Godpa and Godma

Tiger Log:-
Age:-

If you've ever watched 'The Godfather', you'll remember Marlon Brando as this huge, imposing, cigar-chewing, kingpin of the Italian mafia, who is about as forgiving as a bed of nails. The fact that he weighs about half a tonne only makes him all the more scary.

Well, think polar opposites, and you end up with a fairly accurate picture of Tiger's godfather, Damien.

Yup, Uncle Damien is pretty much one of the nicest guys you would ever be likely to come across - someone who probably mutters an apology under his breath before he swats a housefly. And I should know; I've known the man for a good two decades now. (He's also pretty different from Brando, in that he typically carries about 1.5% body fat on him at any given time.)

Together with his equally genteel wife, Melody, they make a pretty potent Godparent tag-team. Which is a good thing, since two is always better than one when it comes to taming the Tiger.



That the two of them dote on Tiger is not in doubt. But their real contribution - aside from the very important duty of standing in for us should anything untoward ever take place - is in giving us their unvarnished opinion in all we do as parents.

And that's something Tiger's Mama and I attach no small value to.

First Sentence

Tiger Log: March 2005
Age: 23 months

Well, he had been on the cusp of doing it for awhile now, but this morning, he finally did it!

That's right, on this very day, the 26th of March 2005, little Tiger finally managed to string together his first real sentence! And those momentous words were, fortuitously enough: "Jesus, please help me to be a good boy. Amen".

The background to this was that I had taught him, word by word, this little made-up prayer a few days ago. He had tried to recite it on his own a couple times after that, but would normally need some helpful prompting to finish the sentence.

Up to this point, he'd also been able to manage some very short sentences, like "Mama, brush teeth", "Papa, good night", or even "One minute please" (for when he wanted to play just a little longer).

But we certainly weren't expecting anything like we were about to hear this morning.

As it turned out, we were in the car this morning on our way to breakfast, and I thought he looked kind of lonely at the back in his baby-seat. And so - what with it being the Easter weekend and all - I decided to ask him to say the prayer, I'd taight him, just for fun.

Me: "Tiger, why don't you say a prayer to help you through this day?"

Tiger: "Jee--shus, plis hap me tooo bee ay goood booy. Ah-men!"

And just like that, albeit somewhat haltingly, he'd put together his first whole sentence!

Tiger might not have realised the magnitude of what he'd done, but it was certainly enough to shock the daylights our of his Mama and I.

What else will he have to say from now on, I wonder? Maybe - just maybe - it'll be these words?

Morning Revelry

Tiger Log: -
Age: -

These days, lights out for Tiger usually falls sometime between 9.30pm and 10pm, although his Mama and I have tried in vain to get him to sleep earlier. Rise-and-shine comes - all too early - a little before 7am most times.

Depending on which side of the bed he gets up on, Tiger can either be the most angelic little cherub in the mornings, or the grumpiest grouch since Oscar on Sesame Street.

On those days when he's had a good night's sleep, his eyelids bat open lazily after a few attempts, with a contented smile emerging as he realises that a whole new day of fun lies ahead. For the first five minutes or so, he has this habit of lying virtually motionless in bed, staring wistfully into space as if comtemplating his itinerary for the day. And - probably because he can't write just yet - he'll mutter whole verses of baby gobbledygook to himself just so he remembers what he's planned.

And then, when he's ready, he'll launch into Part 2: waking Papa and Mama. Things start subtly at first. Beginning with whispers which gradually build to insistent yelps, Tiger alternates between calls of "Papa", "Mama" and "Good Morning", relenting only when one of us wakes up to play with him. It's only after a good 10 minutes or so of playful poking, nose-rubbing, hair-pulling and tickling that he'll agree to have some breakfast.



Then, of course, there are the less-than-cheery days. If we're lucky, he simply hauls himself up, slides off the bed, and heads out of the room in search of Aunt Lil for his milk. And if we're not, well, let's just say that the phrase "not a morning person" doesn't even begin to describe it. The grumpy one simply refuses any attempt to coax him to breakfast, swatting us away with well-placed backfists, protesting "No, no, no!"

And no, I haven't got a picture of that to show for just yet.

Going Green

Tiger Log: March 2005
Age: 23 months

Having a garden - however small - is perhaps not the easiest thing in the world when you live in an HDB flat.

Actually, "garden" probably isn't even the right word , since there really isn't a lawn to begin with - just some space which we've "less-than-legally" appropriated along the corridor outside our flat. So, as you can see, our "garden" is actually more a modest collection of potted greenery than anything else, haphazardly arrayed on a wooden display frame.

A couple of days ago, Tiger's mama decided that we'd had enough of passive gardening. It was simply too much of a cop-out, she insisted, to just buy them ready-to-go (from Ikea no less!) and just nurture them along.

And so, armed with the firm belief that green fingers can be cultivated (even in relatively late adulthood), she bodly went about her inaugural DIY planting job. Her first experiment: parsley. With Tiger watching curiously, she proceeded to embed the seeds in soil...



... before watering the mix lightly.



Of course, we haven't been able to be as adventurous indoors, but we've nonetheless attempted to inject some flora in the home as well. Our initial fear was that Tiger, inquisitive as he is, would lay waste to the plants quicker than you could say "deforestation". Thankfully though, he's been quite receptive to them, even volunteering to help water them on occasion.





As for the parsley, here's what they look like after about 4-5 days of TLC.



Not the fastest of growers, to be sure, but Tiger's Mama was ecstatic. "See, I told you they'd grow," she said jubilantly.

I guess she was right. After all, didn't we bring Tiger up from scratch as well?

Along came Baby Raeanne

Tiger Log: Feb 2005
Age: 22 months

I've probably mentioned a couple of times before that opportunities for Tiger to interact and socialise with others in his age group are few and far between.

This has been especially so since we took the doctor's advice to have him stay away from playschool for two months or so, until the kiddy-virus which had plagued him for the past month or so had completely subsided.

So we were pleased as punch when Baby Raeanne (pronounced Raye-Ann) came along for a visit.



Baby Raeanne's Daddy and I go back a long way, back to when we were both discharging our National Service obligations eons ago. It seems like just yesterday that we were a couple of young punks going ga-ga over the babes. All of a sudden, here we were, watching our babies going ga-ga. Who woulda thunk it?



Born in August last year, Baby Raenne is more than a whole year younger than Tiger, although you wouldn't necessarily be able to tell by looking at her. She's certainly a little bigger than most other kids her age, and from what I can tell, a good deal more aware of what's going on around her too. She's got large doe-eyes that remind me of Tiger's in some ways, which narrow into slits whenever she breaks into a smile.

Now, first impressions are everything, they say. And even though Tiger and Baby Raeanne had met before, they hadn't exactly been formally introduced (Baby Rae would either be sleeping, or Tiger in a less than sociable mood).

So this time, we decided to try to help things along a little. After a little perfunctory small talk, we nudged the two little ones closer to each other.

First introductions were tentative to say the least. The two eyed each other with a wary gaze, perhaps wondering if this was yet another infantile attempt by their parents to force a friendship (they were right!).



Tiger was probably the less attentive of the two, his gaze shifting at times to other distractions.



After some time, it seemed like Baby Raeanne had had enough of Tiger's non-commital stance, and promptly decided to initiate some contact of her own. Unfortunately, none of us could tell for sure if it was a loving caress across his cheeks, or a frustrated grasp for attention.



Oh well, it's a start I guess.

Lunar New Year (Part III)

Tiger Log: Feb 2005
Age: 22 months

Not surprisingly, the first stop of our Chinese New Year visiting tour was at Tiger's Great Grandma's. We were the first to arrive that morning, but by lunchtime, Great Grandma's humble 3-room abode was overflowing at the rafters, as more and more relatives piled into the flat.

Here you can see Tiger, his Mama and Lil hamming it up for the camera, while poor Great Grandma makes some last minute phone calls to determine who was coming and who wasn't. (By the way, she had single-handedly whipped up lunch for us all, and was especially concerned to ensure that that no one missed out - whether accidentally or deliberately - on her cuisine.)



I wish I would have been able to snap a picture of the crowd that eventually accumulated, but I was probably too immersed in chatting with my relatives - folks I usually see only on an annual basis.

Here's one that I did manage to capture though, with Aunty Wendy.



An interesting aside here: Said Aunty was a real favourite of mine when I was a boy. In my younger years, she would whisk me off to the now-defunct MPH bookstore at Stamford Place, where I could while away the entire afternoon, before she would then proceed to take me on a shopping spree for clothes and toys. We then lost contact for more than 15 years before serendipitously re-uniting recently. She now claims that Tiger reminds her a lot of myself as a boy, and I'm therefore hoping rather deviously that she'll likewise take Tiger out on weekends every now and then as well...

We also stopped by Aunty Yamei's home a few days later. Aside from the fact that we had inexplicably chosen to drape a Hawaiian beach shirt over him for Chinese New Year, this was also memorable for the fact that Tiger did the honours when it came time to present the Mandarin oranges to Aunty Yamei. He even insisted on toting the little red bag all personally on the way there.



An ex-neighbour of mine and a longtime family friend, Aunty Yamei fawned over Tiger and constantly urged his Mama and I to start working on Tiger version 2. A mother of three herself, she understandably advocated the joys of a 3-child household and constantly urged us to get it over with post-haste, or in her words: "like do-re-mi".



Tiger, meanwhile, was far more concerned with engaging in a little tete-a-tete with Aunty Yamei's pooch, Happy.



There were a few other visits over the next couple of days, but I guess we're not the most prolific when it comes to doing the Chinese New Year rounds. Still, I'd say it was a pretty enjoyable new year season, shortened only when I had to leave for my reservist stint in the Army.

Lunar New Year (Part II)

Tiger Log: Feb 2005
Age: 22 months

Our other reunion dinner was again a low-key affair, and another dine-in experience as well.

This time, it was at our own home, with Tiger's Great Grandma
filling the VIP spot at the table.



Taking pride of place at the centre of the dinner table was a Lunar New Year tradition that goes back a long way on my side of the family. The very aptly named 'Steamboat' - an Asian fondue of sorts - had us all eagerly watering at the mouth, Tiger included.



We'd prepared a truckload of delights all ready to be tossed into the steaming broth: sliced fish, squid, fresh "tang-oh" veggies, liver, fishball, and of course, abalone.

(Incidentally, this was our first reunion dinner experience with an electric Steamboat set. Tiger's Great Grandma had typically insisted on doing things the traditional way, with her ancient charcoal-fuelled kiln and stove. But in the interests of saving her the trouble, we'd opted for the new-fangled option this year instead.)

Tiger, it seemed, was as fascinated with the Steamboat dinner - his first - as he was with the yu-Sheng feast. Unfortunately, he wasn't quite old enough to be able to cook his own food in the boil, but he seemed quite content to watch and play make-believe chef with the "tang-oh" veggies.

Lunar New Year (Part I)

Tiger Log: Feb 2005
Age: 22 months

According to the lunar calendar, this is the year of the Rooster.

As far as horoscopes go, the Rooster symbolises honesty and practicality. (Although it seems to me that no matter which animal horoscope prevails - good luck and prosperity somehow find their way into the prediction for the year ahead.)

Up until this year, though, Chinese New Year was to me, simply an occasion where 5 things would invariably come to pass; namely:

1. We would be having a couple of reunion dinners
2. We would be visiting friends and relatives quite a bit
3. I would be handing out a fair few red packets...
4. ...some of which would end up back in Tiger's pocket
5. I would get a few rounds of Mahjong under my belt.

Oh well, 4 out of 5 ain't bad. Mahjong was initially on the cards, but at the last minute, we felt guilty pulling an all-nighter without Tiger.

It should be obvious by now that the true meaning of Chinese New Year is generally lost on me. Truth be told, I'm not the most traditional of people when it comes to celebrating my Chinese ancestry. Not that I'm not proud of it, mind you; but it's just something I haven't paid quite enough attention to over the years I guess. (Sad, I know.)

So it's understandable that Tiger's Mama - who is as rootsy as they come - is worried that my kantang-ness (a Hokkien colloquillism for potato, or Westernised Chinese) might rub off onto Tiger.

So for this Chinese New Year, I really made an effort to try and get into the spirit.

Heck, we even managed to get Tiger into some traditional Chinese garb, which after some getting used to, he seemed to like.



Reunion dinner at my in-laws' was fun. For some reason, we usually eschew the fancy 10-course extravaganza that restaurants milk the common folk every Chinese New Year, in favour of a simple - but no less hearty - meal at home.

No, for as long as I've known them, my in-laws have faithfully stuck to the "instant" version of yu-sheng (raw fish), that stalwart of all reunion dinners.

You simply tear open the myriad packets of ingredients, along with the sauces and spices, arrange them neatly along the circumference of the plate, and voila! Yummy ready-to-eat yu-sheng in the comfort of your own home.



(Lucky us though, we had abalone (yup, abalone!) in place of raw fish, because Tiger's mum has a tummy which reacts quite violently to the stuff.)

For the record, this was in fact our second Chinese New Year with Tiger around, although thanks to his lazy Papa, last year's affair went undocumented. This year though, he was certainly much better able to take in the experience. The traditional tossing of the yu-sheng, for instance, was something I explained to him a couple of times over. You know, the importance of family , that kind of thing. Here's the family, by the way (sans me, the photographer):



I don't know how much of what I said got through to Tiger, but he seemed to be quite intrigued by the whole process.



In any case, it's an experience I hope he'll be able to remember, even if only because I hope he doesn't turn out to be a Western potato.

Look who's Back!

Tiger Log:-
Age:-

Well, it's been long overdue, but we're finally back!

It must have been close to a month since I last updated this blog - a long long time, I know - but I have my reasons (read: excuses).

First, Tiger's virus re-surfaced yet again since the last post, so we were again kept busy trying to suppress his temperature and sneezing fits. Then, before I knew it, I was whisked off for reservist duties in the Army. For a couple of weeks, I found myself charging up various assorted hills and knolls in jungles that I would otherwise not have even known existed in Singapore.

Needless to say, I wasn't too sad to finally be home once my duties had been discharged. Tiger, I'm told, was constantly cooing "Papa" and telling anyone who'd listen that I was in the "Er-mee".

All that "Er-mee" talk probably got to him, because no sooner had I removed my boots and jockey cap, than he proceeded to claim them for himself.





Believe it or not, I actually felt a little guilty about letting the blog lie fallow for this long. All this blogging must really be growing on me, because in a weird kind of way, not posting made me feel almost as though I was failing to keep up with Tiger's progress.

(That sounded a tad psychotic, didn't it?)

The bottom line, though, is that this blog is finally going to be brought back up to speed.

It's good to be back!

On that Note...

Tiger Log: Feb 2005
Age: 22 months

Lately, it seems like Tiger might be taking a bit of an interest in musical instruments after all (drums not included).

His requests for a tune on the old guitar have gotten a little more frequent, even if they revolve around old standards such as the theme song from Bob the Builder (classic 3-chord rawwk-fest!) and If You're Happy And You Know It (all that clapping of hands and stamping of feet really gets him going).

Tiger's also starting to fancy himself as a bit of a guitar virtuoso, I think. Of course, his playing style might be somewhat unorthodox. As you can tell, it involves the instrument being placed face-up on the ground, guitar pick in one hand strumming away randomly, with no chording to speak of whatsoever.

Well, it's a start I guess.





He's also started humming!

During his bedtime yesterday, I placed him down on his pillow next to me, and started droning out some lullabyes as always. Amazingly, he actually started humming along! But instead of going "Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm", he went "Mi mi mi" over and over again, and with hand gestures to boot!

Okay, so it wasn't exactly in tune, and putting him to bed did take 30 minutes longer than usual, but needless to say, I was tickled pink.