A Walk In The Park

We survived the challenge on Monday. When I suggested the outing, I had my own skeptic mindset and obstacle to wrestle over. A day in the Singapore Zoo could have been better, or the Night Safari and the Underwater world which we had both conquered triumphantly lugging our gears of baby ration and pampers mercenary.

But we went ahead anyway. However I was still skeptical behind the wheel driving towards the Singapore Botanic Gardens. It would have been so much more interesting catching rabbits and chasing tigers at the zoo with all the animal shows and gigantic elephant poo, but a day in the garden?

I imagine myself rattling to our baby daughter, “Wow Angel, look, its a green leafy tree with barks and brunches”, “Wow baby, another green leafy tree, and this one's got a darker shade of green”, “Hey over here, another tree, wow, also green in color, wow, isn't that cute darling? Wow”.

She may be a baby with a little brain but she's no push over. You show her the same trick twice she'll make an effort to feign interest. You conjure a similar trick one more time and her face will suggest you are insulting her intelligence. And believe me, it makes you look really stupid.

The way it turned out for the three of us, it was a walk in the park, and literally too. It was a splendid day at the biggest park in Singapore. Angel enjoyed herself tremendously although we were sweating like 3 fat pigs in this outdoor event. Spanning across 32 hectares of land, the garden had its root back in early 1822 when it was established as a “Botanical and Experimental Garden” at the Fort Canning Park. But it was only in 1859 that the piece of 32 hectare landscape granted its birth as the Singapore Botanic Garden. Today it is a prized tourist attraction in our tiny island of Singapore.

I hope I had the history correct because I am too lazy to google its proper origin. But you guys get the idea lah, it is a park, a solid great park, made up of er... lots of green stuff. Ok, now that we get that introduction part over let's move on to the pictorial segment of this post.

I wanted this post to be of a photography kind of post, with lots of well taken angled pics sprawling everywhere, but apparently my photography skills never improved since my NAFA days when I had to borrow fellow classmates' shoots to hand up for assignment. Also, armed with an idiot camera and pressing on the “auto” mode at every shot, I guess as much no photography awards will be given. So I ended up with much color tweaking in the Photoshop software which hopefully disguised my lack in photography shoots. But since I had already spilled the beans that I sucked in photography, I do hope everyone will still enjoy with us on our little journey in the garden of ...er... lots of green leafy trees.



Angel's absolutely cute smile!



Angel's cutie pose.



Angel's mummy pulling off a smooch.



Daddy time, hooray!!



Against the backdrop of the Bandstand, known as the “Gazebo”.



Angel in her pram by the Symphony Lake.



Mummy and Angel.



Angel's on the park bench.



Nothing, I put this in to show that the park is not all packed with green leafs.



Daddy time again! Woohoo!!!

Pain

The pain is more than I can bear for the past 4 days. What started out as a normal day last Thursday turn out to be a hellish trip of fucking lower back pain all through the bloody weekend. I could hardly walk. I am surprise at my own threshold, I beared it all through Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, and now I am at the fucking point of breaking.

3.40 am in the morning, Monday today. The pain is overpowering, I woke up in the middle of the night feeling sorry for myself. And I haven’t felt this sorry for years. I always thought only wimps feel sorry for themselves, apparently I have recruited myself in the army of sorry sods. I sighed and resigned to the fate of 2 slipped discs bowing low to human structural degeneration.

I have done all I could to keep myself healthy and fit. At least 4 times a week I would waddle in the swimming pool and once a week visit to the neighbourhood stadium. I also make regular visits to my physiotherapy centre and ensured that I keep myself mobile all the time, less idling and more activity is what I need according to every damn doctor and therapists I have consulted.

I really have done my best. But I walked like a waddling duck with a 10kg dumbell tied to its feet for the past 4 days and felt like an apologic dog whenever my daughter cried for me. This is the worst weekend for me, and the only days of my life that I hadn’t make my daughter very happy. I cannot carry her like I always did, and it is breaking my heart. I am serious, my walking speed made me a member of the snail community due to the extruded discs pressing on my nerves sending pain signals to my brain. I felt like shit.

It doesn’t help either that I am currently limping with my right arthritic knee that is equally pissing me off like a pregnant woman feeling the need to visit the toilet every 10 freaking minutes. This weekend had been nothing but shit, elephant pile stacks of shit that comes in tonnes! DAMN!! Chee Bye!!! Nah Beh!!

Ok, I think I am done. I am done complaining and whining in the true essence of a qualified wimp. Let me try to get myself some sleep. Apologies to those of you who have read until the final words of this post, an unconstructive post made up of complains and swear of a pain ridden ordinary chap.

Damn, I am feeling sorry for myself again.

Sorry guys. At least I made it to 2 post entries this month.

hmmmm...

Riding Out The Challenge With My Wife.

I am facing a blank screen trying to type sense of things lately.
Good, now that I had typed the first sentence and currently on my second, I’ll try keeping it going. You see, truth is, I haven’t got much I really want to express on my blog lately. Life is gel of baby sitting, work, meals with dad and mum, in-laws, my routine runs and laps in the pool, and that’s it. My social life pretty sucked these days, so you won’t see any wild party pics in this blog anytime soon. Plus, with my age catching up, I kinda feel like I am out of the social circle made up of young people in their skinny jeans and hip hairdo (I know, not wise to mention anything about hairstyle especially after my ‘Rooster Tale’ post), and I am beginning to feel a little bit of an ‘uncle’ myself. By that I mean feeling a little old, but not old age walking stick clutching old, just... matured old. If you know what I mean.

The problem is, I don’t totally feel comfortable heading into that direction at times. The thought of my screaming kids running wild along shopping aisles while the missus prowl ed the shelves of yet another ‘Toys R us’ or ‘Kiddy Palace’ store is enough to further lengthen another wrinkle across my forehead, and at some point in time the scenario will present itself. There are no two ways about it, kids are still kids, they will misbehave no matter how well taught they are.

The challenge has already begun.

Because Angel is ten months old and a little over, she has a bigger brain now I presume. And that little brain has started to extend it’s capability beyond feeding her information to demand milk and the things that little babies do. That little brain demands that she must grab one of those yellow Paddington bears hanging down from the ceiling of the ‘Guardian Pharmacy’ store. Failing which will trigger a signal that would entail a loud wail from her mouth or something on the line of breaking the weak dad’s heart.

With a sigh, I enlisted the help of a patient service staff who duly took down one of the stuffed bears. The crying and complaining stop, just like magic. I am sure if you ask David Copperfield or Chris Angel to teleport the Statue of Liberty or float in the air they would perform the act like eating cake. But they won’t stand a chance against good old Paddinton bear when it comes to making babies stop crying. This is the sort of thing that is hard, parenting, it’s deep knowledge. Because I have to decide against swiping my credit card or simply putting the bear back to where it belonged. I almost chose the former, but the missus had the good foresight to put the toy back.

She was right and I was wrong, I supposed. If my little girl start to cry and demand her way through all the time, my future would no doubt be the aforementioned, screaming kids along ‘Toys R Us’ alleys and overlapped wrinkles that would shame my neighbour’s bulldog. The curve is steeper than I imagine. Logic vs emotion, which would you choose? When it comes to soap opera Korean dvd serials, the missus wins hands down in the emotion department, you need to slay a tree or present a carton of soft tissue papers to pacify her. But when the real situation such as the abovementioned presents upon itself, trust the missus to play the logic card. Amazing split personality she has. She could be the perfect subject for any psychotherapist.

But seriously, she’s the perfect mum. When it comes to situations like this, she’s the better decision maker. I have no doubt she would also be the better discipline master as well. I, on the other hand gets bullied by my little princess more often than not. Picture this, the feel of warm and tiny palms running down your cheeks, your daughter looks intimately godly at you as she was stroking your cheeks, soooooo sweet... and while you are still savoring the loveliness, you heard a sudden smack, before you knew it the little bugger had drop a slap on your face. By the time you had come to, she’s already facing the opposite direction in her own high, smiling and chuckling away. She does have a knack for pulling off stunts like this.

That would be my little Angel for you currently. A big baby who has started to develope her own opinions, and already picking up her first few steps (with assistance of course). Despite her growth developments, she’s still a tiny baby at heart who is ever so glued to her weak dad. Walk away from her without carrying her when I returned home from work and I am asking for trouble, for she would cry and break my wretched heart. I am cursed for life, willingly.

There is an irony here. The future is coming and I have to embrace it, the aniticipation of learning more things in life and seeing your children grow up is exciting. But at the same time, it also meant I am leaving a lot of things behind, such as my carefree frame of mind which I tremendously enjoy when I was a younger me. Instead, I have to learn to grow up faster than my daughter would, and guide her well in her own path of bright future.

But my first course of action is to go up the mountain and learn from the great master. The one that is emotionally more logical than her husband.

Thank you May, my wife and a great mother, I can’t do this without you.