Friday, 30 November 2012

Bringing up baby: artwork 27 Nov 2012

27 November 2012 (c) ^_^ 2012
Medium: paint, hands, card.

Tuesday, 27 November 2012

Bringing up baby: The Cat in the Hat reaction

A few days ago.


Tilly really understood the plot. He was really into it. He was charming.

I'd forgotten the storyline. His reaction reminded me just how exciting it was.

Story time started as an onerous event, with much procrastination on his side. Many other books were skimmed through, to prolong eventual bedtime.

Daddee open the cover of the book. He started reading.

"The sun did not shine.
It was too wet to play.
So we sat in the house
All that cold, cold, wet day."

Tilly was still distracted, fiddling with his toothbrush cover.

Daddee continued as best he could. Then the plot became much more exciting.

The Cat in the Hat!

The fish talks!

The Cat does ambitious things! Oh no! The fish and the cake! The books and the rake!
Oh no! The ship and the books! Tilly could hardly bear to look!
The Cat has a fall! Despair, oh tragedy! Oh that poor ball!

And look at the mess the Cat made in the hall.
Does this stop the Cat? Never; never that.

His onslaught continues, with Thing One and Thing Two, 
But here comes our hero with his marvellous net.
His capture of Things completes the whole set.

And here's more suspense - mother is approaching; 
With the mess encroaching, 
Will our heroes escape without her reproaching?

The Cat! The Cat! The Cat saves the day!
He cleans up his mess, and puts fun away.
Still an unreliable Cat for all that.

Our heroes are safe, and the fish is happy once more 
Swimming peacefully in his glass bowl.

This book has become his book du jour, surpassing Green Eggs and Ham.
Am I sad? Yes. Yes, I am.
He sits through this book, I must say
All patience and eager when the Cat comes to play.
Reading from page one, to the finish.
Which is the best he has yet accomplished.
So I miss his skipping pages, I miss his versions.
Daddee loves he can read a story without diversions.

Monday, 26 November 2012

Thursday, 22 November 2012

Narwhal vs Orca - People rule, and outsourcing drools!

This subject fascinates me. I can't pin down why I am fascinated. It ticks several of my interests.  

This story is about David vs Goliath. It is about community strengths vs corporate structure. It is about people vs design. It is about project management. It is about people management. It is psychology. It is sociology. It is technology. It is about nerve-wracking competition. It is about gaming. It contains role-playing and a DM. It is about preparedness. It is about high performance, and doing things to the best of your ability. 

It is loads of stuff.

It is about People.

In no particular order:

Tech analysis

Marketing analysis

Stats analysis

Journalist analysis

Republican analysis

Disclosure wrt the 2012 USA elections: my opinion is - ultimately the message carried the day. 

Not the candidates. Not the technology. If people weren't motivated enough to vote, then they didn't vote. If they didn't vote, then it's because of the message. 

Wednesday, 21 November 2012

Bringing up baby: 20 November 2012 2am

2am, 20 November 2012: Daddee wears Tilly-scarf (c) ^_^ 2012

Tuesday, 20 November 2012

Bringing up baby: 18 November 2012

Multitasking Tilly: watching swings, and climbing net. (c) ^_^ 2012

I'm getting better at calling Tilly "Tilly".

Yesterday was a cold cold wet day. Today was a windy wet windy day.

The best part was after Tiily's nap. He nursed to help him fall asleep for his nap - he was unmanageable for unknown reasons prior to nap. Sigh. Anyhow he napped.

When he awoke, it he ate his lunch very well - boiled wontons with macaroni and peas, and soup, and grapefruit. He played very well afterwards on his trike. He had a nappy change, and then we were off.

I grabbed his going-out bag, and then grabbed our wind jackets. And then returned for the old towel (in case the swing etc needed drying/cleaning off). Tilly walked a lot of the way, being carried for 100m or so. Or less.

We were the only ones there at the playground! Score! Swingtime4ever!

It was a lovely time. It must have been at least 30 mins of swinging. And then other people started turning up. I was trepiditious on his behalf. Would he have to give up his swing?

The first little girl was quite a bit older, and used the bigger swing. The little boy and his sister were having eats with their mother. The second little girl preferred the slide. Yay, Atilla!

We swung for a while longer. Then I asked if he wanted to do something else, like climb the blue net. He said 'yes'.

He disembarked, but he diverted to another part of the playground. He utilised his observation skills for a while, watching other people use his swing.

He made a token attempt at climbing. But everything around him was so distracting. He couldn't target himself vertically.

He decided he'd prefer to sit and snack and watch.

He took his box of raisins and went for a walkabout. It was most pleasurable for me to watch him explore his environment.

He wandered away, he trudged up the small slope to the trees, he stomped in the long grass and twigs and leaves, he sat down, he trudged around the back to reach me on the park bench, he grinned, and continued on his circuit again. Occasionally he would stop, take stock of the Play around him, laugh, and carry on.

He stood and watched the playground play. He shuffled-walked backwards as his wont. He had to re-balance himself when he reached the edge of the pavement. He tried shuffle-walk on the grass and twigs.

He finished his box of raisins. I asked him to throw it into the rubbish bin. He made his way there. He turned and looked at me. I mimed 'throw in the bin'. Apparently my mime looked like 'Play with the Box'.

He used the box in his play and exploration.

He threw the box. Several times. Then he used the box as...I don't know what. He dug with it, I guess. But it didn't dig very well. He played Car with it? But it didn't roll at all.

So he just held it in his hand, and used it to interact with the bark of the playground, digging into it.

He did this all over the playground, from the blue slide to the baby swing, to the steps to the yellow slide.

He became more fascinated by the "big!" branch. He left his box on the ground and started using the big branch to dig into the bark. I picked up the box, for later disposal.

He dug here, he dug there, then he dropped the branch and began searching for his box. He was delighted when I pulled it out of my pocket.

He played with it again, digging it into the bark in the playground, slowly moving towards the edge. He found another stick, and dropped the box in the bark, and used the stick for digging and drawing lines. I didn't pick up the box. He drew the stick in a wide circle. Then he discarded the stick. He asked me for the box. I pointed it out to him.

He picked up the box and began digging ever closer to the playground's raised edge. He climbed over the edge to dig the box into the bark which had fallen on the grass out of the playground.

Not sure what happened next.

The box was abandoned in favour of other explorations; Plant physiology - buttercup flowers, petals, stalk, twigs and leaves, "big!" tree and the lichen on its trunk.

Dadee surprised us, and we joined him on his stroll to the liquor shop. On the way home, it began to rain in earnest so we got home as soon as we could.

Today Tilly played WiiPlay for the first time. Cow Riding. I have hopes he may achieve with this.

Monday, 19 November 2012

Friday, 16 November 2012

Bringing up baby: 16 November 2012

Tilly arrived home, courtesy of Ah Gong. For a brief moment he had been left alone, in the car, with the engine running, and unbuckled. I must warn Ah Gong not to let that happen again. My imagination fails to envision anything good from a repeat situation.

Tilly promptly wanted to go out again. Daddee had said it was too late for Tilly to be out. Tilly manoeuvred his way out the door and onto the steps. He refused to answer me when I asked him if he wanted to go out.

I must remember this trick of his, where he doesn't reply and does what he wants. I've been the recipient of this many times - such as when he wanted to read a book before going grocery shopping. 

I suppose I do it to him, when he demands something from me I can't give, and I do what I want.

I picked him up, and told him that as he hadn't said 'yes' to my question, he was going into the house. He protested abundantly. I asked him the question again, and he answered "Yes."

So we - as a family - arranged it so I accompanied Tilly on his expedition. He was very very good. We had to turn back to get my phone, and he was quite understanding.

He and I sauntered down the shared driveway. We meandered to the neighbour's flowers. I explained to Tilly that he couldn't pick *those* flowers as it was someone else's garden. He unhanded the stalk and walked away.

We sauntered some more along the road. He saw some more flowers. But they had closed up, and gone to sleep for the night. We saw a bumble bee, having dinner before going to bed.

We walked again, hand in hand. 

Tilly wanted to go to the curb. I decided this quiet time was a good time to reinforce road rules. 

No playing by the curb. 

He was fascinated by the tree on the other side. I asked whether he wanted to climb the tree. He said yes, but didn't make the move to cross the road. I asked if he wanted to be picked up to cross the road, and he agreed. 

We had a nice time there. 

"Big!" he remarked of the tree. "Big!" (I love his exclamations.)

"Big!" "Big!"

Then he had enough and we returned to the first side and continued the route. I still wasn't sure how far we'd be going.

Naive me. By this time the playground was visible. 

"Tree!" Tilly coyly declaims. Uh huh, right. You are fascinated by the trees at the playground...what a coincidence!

Well, why not? I brought him to the tree on the hillock at the playground. He played along with the script, with a show of interest in the leaves in his hand. 

His head turned toward the swing at the first opportunity.

He sat in the swing for a very long time. For a bit he wanted companionship in the other swing, and I complied. Then I just kept him swinging. 

We discussed cars, the colour of cars, and colours in general. Black, silver, blue, dark blue. I reminded him about the time, that people were going home, having dinner and going to bed.

He stopped swinging after a while, and wanted some quiet time to investigate the metal safety chain belt. 

Then he looked up, "Horse!" 

This idea fixed in his head, he was content to leave the swing and go home. On our way, he didn't mention the cat, and I pointed out the cars. Quite a surprising number were red, or Hondas. 

We arrived home. He wanted to watch the Wizard of Horse. This was refused. He began to have a tantrum.

I can't recall how this was staved off. The cow milk bottle, I think, and being held by Mummee.

The bedtime routine ensued. We paraded upstairs. He with his milk bottle and cap; me with him, my large bowl and tissue box and his giraffe; Daddee with my half-finished mug of tea.

Tonight Daddee was Parent Du Jour. Only he could read stories to Tilly.

Tilly did get what he wanted: cat, Popple(tm), kea, giraffe, teddy bear, rocking horse, woollen blanket, horse scarf, house slippers, Mummee patting him to sleep, Daddee singing him to sleep.

We got what we wanted: a sleeping baby.

Thursday, 15 November 2012

Bringing up baby: I love Tilly.

There are so many things I love about Tilly. Here's some.
  • I love it that he communicates new things to me. Like that he prefers to be called Tilly, than how I call him, Atilla.
  • I love his soft skin.
  • I love his soft hair.
  • I love his gentle touch, checking to see if I'm awake.
  • I love watching him at play.
  • I love his grin, his smile.
  • I loved his curls. *sigh*
  • I love his book reading. I'm sitting on the ground, he places a book or two in my hands, and turns around and backs up into my lap, trusting my lap will be there for his little butt to sit on.
  • I love his book reading. He sits quietly reading a book to himself. "cat" "dog" "bird" "zebra" "大象 [dà xiàng]" "giraffe" "鯊魚 [shā yú]" "horse" "boat"
  • I love how he gets so excited by the things I am blase about, like Wii resort, or Wii Fit 2.
  • I love how he loves loves loves swinging on the playground swings. He has to use each swing. Even when there are four. Or more.
  • I loved how he rode his trike, when his legs weren't long enough to stretch to the ground. I love how he rides his trike, now his legs are long enough to stretch to the ground.
  • I love how he tries to include his favourite things on this trike ride, like me.
  • I love how he likes his Trunkie rides with Daddee.
  • I loved his awkward throws, when his arms and hands and visual acuity didn't balance out sufficiently and he threw close to his feet. I love his practiced throws, now his arms, hands, visual acuity allows him to more accurately judge his target a fair distance away.
  • I loved his gummy grin. I love his toothy smile.
  • I loved how he combined sign language and single word speech to communicate to me. I love how he uses two word speech to communicate with me.
  • I love playing with him.
  • I love how he thinks he's hiding things from me, by the expedience of sitting on them. No matter that I can see the red material of his hat spread out under him. Yeah, that only works in Play Mode, not when I'm in Momma Mode.
  • I love how he knows how to clean up his own mess. I love that he's learning how to clean up messes. I find great pleasure-peace-humour-satisfaction when I see him using adult-sized cleaning items - a big broom, a dustpan and brush, cleaning cloth - cleaning up real messes. It's the disparity in size of the the item, and the user. And the wonder that he's so wonderful.
  • I love his routines. I love how his routines give him pleasure - like having a beloved blanket, or scarf, cover his legs at bedtime story time. Like his holding Giraffe, or Teddy Bear, or Bear, while sitting on my lap watching a dvd.
  • I love how he draws.
  • I'm loving how he most times nowdays peacably allows me to detain him to 'clean hands' before he wanders away from the dining table.
  • I love how he imitates Daddee and me, and any other behaviour he thinks is fun to emulate. Like Brush Hair.
  • I love how he gets along with his friends at day care.
  • I love how he slurp slurps his soup, or any liquid from a spoon, or from a bowl. The sound is disgustingly bad table manners, but he's not yet two and he's having fun.
  • I love his language acquisition. I'm convinced he knows at least 90% more than he's saying. I'm 80% sure spelling out our frequently used words, e.g. b a t h, isn't much of a code for much longer.
  • I love his enthusiastic language acquisition. His passion for "fart" is a sign to behold. His headlong embrace of the practice of "falling" would make a good YouTube video, except he stops when the camera is looking. He's still very fond of "fiworks".
  • I love how he plays with Daddee. Like the little piggies going wee wee wee.
  • I love how he can calm himself down, from a tantrum.
  • I love watching him feed himself. It's best when someone else does the cleaning up.
  • I love how he likes climbing in the playground. I love he likes the sandpit. I love he likes painting.
  • I love his dancing.
  • I love how he likes cooking.
  • I love how he looks when he's sleeping peacefully.
  • I love how he plays with me.

Wednesday, 14 November 2012

Life: 14 November 2012

I've struck by this debilitating cold since Monday afternoon.

I'm stuck with this blocked nose and consequent headache. Bath didn't work. Drink didn't work. Gonna try sleep again.

I was much better today.

Atilla woke us up. He woke me up by gently touching me, and then greeting me with his delightful smile.

He became whiny after that, when several things didn't go his own way.

Oh, and he prefers the name "Tilly" than Atilla.

Grand parents collected Tilly from daycare, and looked after him while I got dinner. I ate, he didn't .

Next I gave him a bath. Getting to that stage was a right performance.

But things went well after that.

Bath, play in bath, then naked play in bed, then Daddee came home, and Tilly got dressed and so forth.

Tuesday, 13 November 2012

Life: meanderings 11 November 2012

It's been another odd week, and weekend.

The only I can recall about last week is Guy Fawkes night.

I think the rest of the week went well, personal-wise. Work was hectic for two days with unexpected events, and the remaining time was catch-up.

We did do playground at least once during the week, when the weather and timing was just right: not too windy, not too late, not too wet. "Swing!" is Atilla's favourite activity.

Atilla did brush his teeth a couple of nights, and flossed one night. By 'brush teeth' I mean he chews his toothbrush bristles and sucks off the toothpaste. Occasionally he may brush his tongue. He keeps refusing me to help him brush teeth. I am become philosophical.

His last canine is coming out this week. He's grouchier than last week.

This weekend didn't live up to expectations. Sigh.

Atilla didn't get to enjoy a family bath. He did enjoy the hotel room and being on the 11th floor. The room's window overlooked a major road, and so there were plenty of buses to get him excited. The vertical blind was fun for him to hide behind, while I quietly had anxiety about the blind's cord as I hadn't thought to tie it up above his reach.

He didn't enjoy breakfast galette. I sat relieved in my chair when Dadee finally took him on a stroll. Atilla had deliberately spilled the remainder of his fluffy onto the table, necessitating a second clean up.


Any how. That's over.


I was responsible for scratch lunch, and scratch dinner on Saturday. Atilla enjoyed mu-ushing the couscous. Less enthusiastic about the eating.

I was responsible for scratch dinner on Sunday. Atilla enjoyed picking up his food and identifying the ingredients. Less enthusiastic about eating.


We went to Sylvia Park, and we made a beeline to see the horse at National Bank.

Atilla was diverted from it at times, but always returned to the horse. He gazes at it happily, and strokes the image and points at it and grins widely and asks to be picked up to stroke the horse on its nose.

He didn't want to leave.

Unfortunately the bank had already thrown out all its paraphanalia with the Lloyds horse logo, and so it became very difficult to persuade Atilla to say good-bye to the horse on a permanent basis.

I dread to imagine how he'll behave when they take away the horse image. We'd go wandering around the shopping centre seeking the horse, I guess. Sigh.


Atilla asked about fireworks again tonight, during Brush Teeth. He lived with his disappointment.