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.