Unsolved Mysteries Part II

The red-haired woman remains a mystery.

Although you folks could not help us arrive at a confident conclusion previously, we trust you may be able to help us do so this time.

Once and for all, we would like to know, who does Hannah look like?

Cast your votes, NOW!

Option 1

Option 2

Option 3

And just to make sure you get to make a side-by-side comparison, here's the young lady:

Official voting closes in a week's time. So please say your money's worth now, OR, forever hold your peace.

Perhaps then, at last I will have hard statistics to quote when people ask about who Hannah resembles most...

"Oh, a recent internet poll reveals a 66% lean towards Mommy. Yes, definitely a 'Mommy' look."

How nice.

Malachi: Sins of the Priesthood Part 1

That rather long title comes from my latest sermon, preached on Sunday 23rd September. It is part 2 in a 7-part series.

You can access it HERE, or click on the link in the right-hand panel -->

I am preaching part 3 this coming Sunday.

Who is she???

There is obviously a limited to kind of spiritual input parents can provide for their 13 month old baby. But we do make it a habit to read Hannah a story from her 'Children's Bible' and then read a couple of prayers together each night before she sleeps.

We have been using "A Little Child's First Prayers" given by a friend, Mag, for quite a few months now.




On the last page is the 'Doxology':

Praise God from whom all blessings flow.
Praise Him, all creatures here below.
Praise Him above, you heavenly host,
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.






We quite often sing this to Hannah, who rewards us with a round of applause at the end.

But she has another habit. She likes to point to one person in the picture, and make a lot of noise. Every time we turn to this page, she will home in on the same lady.




















We are rather perplexed as to who Hannah thinks she is pointing at. Could it be Daddy, with his red (but very short) hair? Could it be Mummy, with her long (but very black) hair? Could it be someone else?

We welcome your verdict! You know where the comment button is...

Merdeka!

Call it writer's block, call it stress, call it whatever.

It's been a long time since I left an entry here, and our nation's 50th Independence (Merdeka) Day seem the best topic to talk about, since the nation's patriotic spirit is currently running at an all time high.

Well, not quite so in our household.

There seems to be too much our plates to chew. So much to handle and so little time. Despite having been in a new department for the last month, incidents still occur to remind me that I am still, the new kid on the block. More about that another time.

Yesterday was a historic day for our nation - we celebrated 50 years of independence from the British colonial rule. Events were organised throughout the country in commemoration of this special day. This weekend was to be a time of joyous celebration.

One little snag though.

Chris was back at work this morning, bright and early, post Merdeka celebrations (not that we did anything significant). Tomorrow, I will be labouring well over 24 hours in the beloved Aceh-like Male Medical wards. What was to have been a long bank-holiday weekend will instead be a dreadful, unsynchronised work week.

I reckon poor Hannah gets a little confused. She doesn't know when to expect Mummy or Daddy to be at home. No wonder she often says "bye-bye" to me out of the blue, as though expecting another disappearing act from me. How heart-wrenching.

Grouses aside, I must admit that the Merdeka celebrations always had a special place in my heart. I remember as a little child I would rush down early Merdeka morning to catch the annual parades live on television. Secretly I longed to be part of those colourful formations and be among those proud marching students.

So, what DID we do for Merdeka?

Well, we had a leisurely breakfast at our local dim sum shop, and proceeded to mingle with the MILLIONS at Mid-Valley Mega mall. Even after we had done all we had planned, we were forced to retreat back into the shopping mall when we discovered a horrendous standstill traffic jam in the parking lot at lunch hour.

Later in the evening, we met up with old university friends back from England and met their little cross-cultural darling for the first time. We would have posted some pictures, but ah, we seem to have stopped taking pictures since Hannah's triumph (been there, done that!), and discovered a little too late that our camera was out of battery power.

To cut a long story short, we found ourselves in front of the TV at the end of a long day, somewhat dreading the working weekend ahead of us. After immersing ourselves briefly in the dramatic life of Jack Bauer (24), we found ourselves surfing the channels and ending up with ... the Merdeka parade.

In spite of himself, Chris had to admit it was an impressive display that kept us watching till the end. In fact, here are some snapshots of the day.

Commentators have much to say about the progress of the country over the last 50 years, both positive and negative. Everything said and done, it is no doubt difficult to attain racial harmony and unity in a country as diverse as Malaysia. This young country has struggled to become what it is today, and rightly deserves to be proud of what has been acheived.

Happy 50th Birthday Malaysia.

When Children Ask Questions

This is Chris's latest sermon (preached this morning) on Deuteronomy 6. Find out what Moses instructed parents to say when their children ask questions similar to 'Why do we go to church?' 'Why do we study the Bible?' and 'Why do Christians have to follow all these rules?'

You can click HERE or on the link in the right-hand pane to listen to/download the sermon in MP3 format.

Oops!... I did it again.

The next baby/parent magazine to come our way was "Mother & Baby" (Cindy subscribes to this one. Well, it is 'Your favourite pregnancy, baby & toddler mag.'). After retrieving the August 2007 issue from our letter-box, as ususal we had a quick flick through the pages...

...and, being so hot on the heels of her recent media success, we didn't think for a moment that Hannah might have done it again. But when we saw page 94, there was no mistaking the cheeky face that greeted us.

A very pleasant surprise! This time, Hannah clinched first place. The only slight disappointment is that the magazine failed to print Hannah's name and age on the photo. Well, she might not be made famous by this media exposure, but we are sure proud of you Hannah.

Here's looking at you, babe!

Finally!

While perusing the Baby/Parent magazines on sale today, we picked up the August 2007 issue of Parenthood (Well, it is 'Your No.1 Baby Magazine', afterall.)

And then, while waiting to pay for it, we flicked through the pages, until...

Could it be???

We took another, closer look:



Yes, it was true! Hannah was officially "A Happy Baby", her parents were finally over their 'our baby isn't cute enough to win competitions' complex and the Wylie household needn't worry about buying disposable diapers again for a while. Hurrah!

Gasping for Air

I dislike farewells.

I dislike major changes.

I dislike chaos.

This past week has seen a major upheaval in my career. I packed my bags and left my 'home' for the last 3 years and moved on to something not entirely different, but significantly so. Nothing could have prepared me for the 'cultural shock' I am experiencing now.

Yes, I have finally secured my release from the Anaesthesia department and moved back to my 'first love', General Medicine. Whatever plans I had years ago when I first stepped into the world of Anaesthesia had derailed, and only now am I back on track.

Or am I?

No one will fault me for having occasional doubts, especially in this precarious time of transition. After all, having been in the sterile and often well-controlled world of Anaesthesia, I am now expected to stay afloat in the roaring chaos of our medical wards. A friend who had volunteered in the aftermath of the Aceh Tsunami disaster often had this to say of his experience:

" Oh, it wasn't that bad. It was something like our general medical wards."


I dislike farewells.

I was spoilt. Among those I miss most are my staff, who count among the best and most efficient in the hospital. Of course that would be expected of Intensive Care Unit and theatre staff, who are expected to deliver quick and expert services in times of crisis. Every verbal and written order would be carried out as soon as possible, every suspicious order (related to bad handwriting) clarified and rectified with expert tact.

I learnt much from my nurses - from professional skills to compassion for patients. Not only did they help in daily work such as interpreting ECGs (and tactfully suggesting what could be done!), but also demonstrated the finer points of breaking bad news to relatives. I remember a certain ICU nurse who would painstakingly comb and tie up female patients' hair in cheery ponytails whether they were conscious or not!

I spent endless hours gossiping and chatting with my colleagues over endless cups of coffee and glorious home-cooked food (brought in by the night staff) during those long long nights of work. We knew who was in a new relationship or in a bitter divorce; we talked about the intern who owned a bright red Porsche; we moaned about our pay but rejoiced with the recent pay-hike announcement. Most of all, we talked about our families - most of my staff know Hannah by name!

Leaving such a wonderful working relationship nurtured over the last few years was difficult. Saying goodbye in an appropriate manner was even more difficult. The Malays have a beautiful practice accompanying farewells - that of requesting the forgiveness of fellow colleagues for any wrongdoings or misunderstandings in the past. A potential tear-jerker if you ask me.


I dislike major changes.

Well, getting married, then pregnant and being a mother are major life events as it is. Having a major shift in my career is another. Where previously I could cruise along in my work, I now find myself akin to a fish out of water, ill-equipped to handle situations thrown my way.

Where previously I could call out my staff by name, now I would not recognise one even if they were to stand beside me in the lift. All sense of familiarity and security has been thrown out of the window.


I dislike chaos.

Anaesthetists are meticulous people. They try to anticipate problems before they occur and often prefer to err on the side of caution. Even in the midst of a crisis, there is always a plan, always some sense of control.

Call it a baptism of fire. I have been assigned to the ward with the notorious reputation of having one of the highest BOR (bed occupancy rate) in the hospital. Where cubicles were originally designed for an occupancy of 6, I found double the number of patients in mine one fine morning.

Patients are wheeled or pushed in in a steady stream throughout the day (and night). Even if we appear to be bursting in our seams, no patient can be turned away.

Chaos rules.

There is no growth without challenge, and there is no challenge without change

- Warren Wiersbe

My learning curve will be a steep one. In the mean time, it will be longer working hours and a daily struggle finding satisfaction with my standard of work.

Hopefully it won't be too long before I find the stream and start swimming again.

First Birthday

With all the media hype surrounding environment consciousness, Hannah has gone ahead and left a huge carbon footprint. Not satisfied with just one, this little girl ended up with TWO birthday parties, generating a massive amount of waste. At least guests had to car pool for her 2nd party (due to stringent security requirements) and we did try to recycle all the cardboard and wrapping paper from her presents.

Since we are still recovering from all that partying, we have decided to allow the pictures to speak for themselves:

http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/Hannahjuenwylie/HannahSFirstBirthday

We continue to be thankful to God for our little daughter, and all the loving family and friends surrounding and supporting us.

A year on, we still wonder how anyone can ever be adequately prepared for parenthood. We realise how we've changed - our threshold for noise, dirt and general chaos has risen considerably; our multi-tasking skills have improved immensely and our conversations with colleagues at work are inevitably about ... Hannah.

Happy First Birthday darling Hannah

Too Close for Comfort

It's official.

We are now known as "Hannah's Daddy" and "Hannah's Mummy". I thought that only happened when kids started going to school and teachers refer to the parents in that manner.

Let me explain. A typical incident would be something like this:

Our happy little family decides to drop by the local hypermarket (yes, that's how rampant these stores are now!) to pick up a few things for dinner. As we innocently browse through the cheese section, Hannah gets a greeting from a total stranger. Well, at least a stranger in our eyes.

The over-friendly lady pinches Hannah's cheeks, comments on her lovely eyes and tries to get her little 3-year-old grandaughter to wave to Hannah, all the time speaking in an animated high-pitched voice. Her pregnant daughter smiles but maintains a comfortable distance, probably realising how unnerving it is for parents to have such an invasion of privacy!

Little children have limited memories, and that little girl obviously didn't remember their supposed meeting several days ago at the bank. Our excited stranger-friend quickly explains that the two girls had become instant friends while waiting for Hannah's grandparents to sort out a bit of banking.

Where was my mother or mother-in-law? In her excitement, she probably didn't realise that Chris was not likely to have a Chinese mother. Anyway, a question like that was more acceptable than an incredulous, "are YOU the mother?".

We gave a polite answer, grabbed a tub of yoghurt and excused ourselves. Now, we were more aware of several salesgirls trying to make eye contact, some even calling out to Hannah with unusual familiarity. We quickly paid for our purchases, slightly unsettled by the attention.

"So, she's your daughter!"

Despite trying to ignore that comment, eventually I had to turn to face the lady who was making repeated attempts at starting a conversation. It turned out to be the Ice Cream Lady, located strategically at the exit of the hypermarket. Apparently she had noticed Hannah with her grandparents before.

By the time we got home, we were sufficiently relaxed to laugh about the whole experience. Hannah's grandparents validated the bank story, but could not recall ever meeting an Ice Cream Lady.

Obviously, Hannah has been going places with her Gong Gong and Po Po. Supermarket runs probably take a lot longer than before with the amount of socialising that must be taking place.

This leads us to a few question:


If Hannah is so cute, why hasn't she won any photo contests? We have come to the conclusion that there are way too many babies cuter than her.


Are we being too obsessive about strangers keeping their distance? Obviously her grandparents have been making more friends than her parents (who have a policy of being aloof to strangers).


Will this ever stop? Call us ungrateful or over-sensitive, but we'd appreciate an outing to the supermarket or a meal out without having to be vigilant about strangers coming up to pinch Hannah's cheeks.


How often do children get kidnapped in public places? Ah, the ultimate irrational fear of all (new) parents.



Unfortunately, Hannah's proud grandparents thrive in this sort of attention (as all grandparents do!). As long as we go to the same places to shop or eat, Hannah's likely to meet people who know her better than we would like.


Shouldn't we be receiving free ice cream samples at the very least?

Holiday

We're back from a few days' holiday in Bukit Tinggi. "Where?" I hear you ask. Think Medieval France. Think narrow cobbled streets and wobbly wood-beamed buildings. Think fountains and wishing wells. And then think 3000 feet above sea-level in a Malaysian rain-forest. That's Bukit Tinggi. If it still defies imagination, please click on the pic below to see a rather OTT collection of holiday snap-shots.

Holiday in Bukit Tinggi 2007

Highlights of the holiday (for Chris, anyway) were:
* the cool weather (think 20-25 degrees C. Yes, that's cool)
* the privacy - and not just in our suite. The whole resort was almost a ghost town on our first night.
* the reasonably authentic Italian food (ironically, we didn't eat any French food)
* the quality 'family-time' that we enjoyed.
* complete control of the TV.
* the sofa to loaf on (despite having a crater in the middle)
* the feeling of not being even remotely near a big city (although it only takes about 45 minutes to drive there from the northern outskirts of KL)

For Hannah, it was a chance to cool off, to see lots of God's creation, to bathe in a full-sized bath and to learn some new vocabulary. The new words had nothing to do with the surroundings and everything to do with Mummy and Daddy repeatedly reading her books out loud. She definitely got her tongue around "bear" and "dog", and Mummy swears she also said "kangeroo." Well, if she did, we are still waiting for her to repeat that one. Anyway, these are in addition to "daddy", "papa" and "mum-mum" (which might mean 'Mummy' but more likely means 'I'm starving - feed me NOW!')

Well, now we are back in KL. Chris goes back to work on Thursday, Cindy is already on call. Oh, and the TV is no longer ours. Life goes on...

Dead Men Walking

One of my greatest regrets of working in the Anaesthesia department is the lack of follow up.

In other words, I hardly know what happpens to the patient after they leave my care. Surely, the greatest satisfaction one can have is to see someone brave through a stormy illness and step out to greet the sunny skies.

The majority of our patients are seen in the intensive care unit or the operating theatres. You can be well assured that none of these patients are allowed to WALK out, much less be discharged from the hospital!

Yet, God has a way of throwing a few 'sunbursts' along the way.

One evening, after a particularly tiring day, I stared blankly at the parking lot while lining up to pay for my purchases in the hospital shop. Silently, I was resenting the long queue that was obstructing my planned quick exit from work. As I turned to study the people in the long queue, I could not help but notice a young man.

He must be a young punk.

You know, they are the sort who dress up like hip-hop artiste wannabes, sunglasses and all even if it's so dark they can't see beyond their fingers. He had a jumper with a hood pulled over his head, knee length shorts with worn-out sneakers. Then I noticed something else - he was thin, abnormally, heart-wrenchingly thin.

Oh wait a minute... I know this guy...

I could hardly suppress a smile when I finally recognised him. Short of calling out his name, I tried to catch his eye, but he was obviously trying to remain as anonymous as possible.

Gary* was a young hairdresser admitted to ICU for severe complications after several cycles of chemotherapy. I had seen him in the ward, brought him into ICU, saw him deteriorate into a coma and wondered many times if he would survive the ordeal. Following that I was rotated out of ICU duties and, like many other patients, didn't know the continuation of his story.

Seeing him stride out of the shop, arm full of junk food, was probably the highlight of my week!

On another occassion, our ICU team was headed to the hospital canteen for a quick morning break. As we stepped into the canteen, we were stopped by a hospital attendant who worked in our department. He shook our hands and introduced us to his father - another patient who had a miraculous recovery.

Months earlier, Ali's* father was involved in a car accident that left him with several fractures and a huge clot in his brain. The neurosurgeons did their best to clear the clot, but the initial clinical signs were bad and we concurred that he had a slim chance to recover from his coma. As expected, he deteriorated further and the family was called in and kept updated about his progress. Somehow, Ali's father hung on precariously, but remained in a coma.

The family was so thankful for what little signs of life he had, and the tireless efforts of the ICU staff that they bought us lunch packets one day as a sign of their appreciation. Again, I was finishing my ICU rotation, but quietly signed off the chances of this unfortunate man.

Imagine my surprise and delight, to not only see Ali's father again, but to see him walk unaided into the hospital compound months later for his clinic follow-up.

Such patients are refreshing rays of sunlight through the thick, overcast clouds that often hang over our ICU patients. Most have lives hung precariously over the edge of life and death. Daily, our ICU staff toils to tip the scales in their favour. Often it just doesn't seem to be worth the effort.

These 'sunbursts' makes it all worthwhile.


*not real names

Shooting Hannah

I must say it felt kind of weird taking a 10 month old baby to a photo shop to have her picture taken. But Hannah didn't behave according to her young age - throughout the photo shoot, she was perfectly composed and cooperative, perched on a stool (while Po-Po and Daddy held her tight just out of shot) not making a single noise.

Why did we do it? Well, Hannah needs a passport. That's right, her own passport. She can't be added to Mummy or Daddy's passports, she has to have her own. With a picture. Goodness knows how she is going to convince immigration of her identity when they look at her photo in 5 year's time, but we will worry about that later. The important thing is we get a passport ready for (God willing) Hannah's big trip to England in December.

I must say I am quite pleased with the results. The BIG blackish bruise on the left side of her forehead was conveniently covered by her wild fringe. Her two bottom teeth can just been seen through her vague smile. She looks quite grown up (for a 10 month old!) in her wistful pose.

And she did such a good job of charming the young lady serving us that we got a couple of 'touched up' photos for free. I think they are intended for us to enter more competitions. Well, the lady showed us all kinds of fancy effects and borders (none of which really grabbed us) but eventually we settled on the 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' design in commemoration of Hannah's favourite song.



Angelic, isn't she?

Shangri - La

If you happen to be in KL, more specifically the Bukit Bintang area, this weekend, it may do you good to listen to this bit of advice.

While strolling through the shopping malls or crowded pedestrian walkways, if you happen to experience chest discomfort, difficulty breathing or any uncomfortable physical sensation, you may want to head over to the Shangri - La.

Evidently, we are not talking about the mythical Himalayan utopia, but the classy hotel nestled in the heart of the glitzy Bukit Bintang.

After all, hundreds of healthcare staff, including the leading Intensivists of this country, as well as several from Australia, Hong Kong, Ireland, the USA and Singapore are convening at the venue for a weekend conference.

It was quite a sight seeing tourists clad casually in shorts and sandles studying maps under electronic signboards with flashing messages such as: Haemodynamics - Sabah Room

Why do I think you might be even remotely interested in something like this? Who knows. Perhaps there'll be something more exciting in our next blog.

(We can't be talking about Hannah all the time)

* Latest Web Album Photos *

It's been about 3 months since we uploaded photos to Hannah's Web Album. But now I've got a bit of time on my hands (3 1/2 weeks, to be precise). Here is the link to the latest pictures:

Hannah at 8-10 months

And remember the photos are quite high definition, so perfect for downloading/printing if you are so inclined.

A winning photo?

Just decided to blog this 'cos it's my favourite photo of Hannah right now. She can be really adorable at times.

Here she is showing off three tricks - standing by herself (she can pull herself up using just about anything more than a few inches high) and waving. The third trick is not quite captured in this shot. You can probably make out that she is standing next to our Hi-Fi. Well, she has already located the volume control which she enjoys fiddling with when her music is playing (or when Mummy and Daddy are watching a DVD).

Now I entitled this "A winning photo?" because we have resurrected our photo competition hopes with this one, along with a couple of other cute shots. Hey, Pampers don't grow on trees, y'know. I mean, it's about time Hannah started paying her way in life...

P.S. Anyone know any Mother/Baby magazine editors?!

Father's Day

...or as Han said in church today, an 'afterthought' to Mother's Day!

Well, Hannah didn't forget her Daddy today. Chris got a rather handy book, in preparation for our new apartment (should be ready by early 2008 - click here for a link to an old blog on the apartment). In case you can't make out the title in the picture, it is "Home Improvement 101" (from Black & Decker, no less!)

So the gauntlet has been thrown down, it would seem, for Daddy to ensure the new apartment is inhabitable. But as Chris happily pointed out to his wife, to avoid any hint of sexism, most of the pictures in the book are of women wielding spanners, screwdrivers, drills and the like. Even the front cover features a woman with a paint roller. Ah, yes. Equality of the sexes. Let's not forget that when we get our new apartment. ;-)

Ok, let's finish this one with a call to all 'Fathers' reading this - post a comment with YOUR Father's Day gift and we'll see if we can spot any trends...

Sermon Update: I have mananged to upload the latest sermon to Archive.org, so now you can download a smaller (20MB) file or even just listen to it by online streaming (just like all my other sermons). Here is the link, and the link on the right-hand panel has been updated too:

http://www.archive.org/details/Leviticus19

Recordings from church

Here are two different types of recordings with very different content matter!

The first is some video footage of Hannah, recorded by our friend Eddy. Very sweet. For those of you who haven't seen Hannah in the flesh, you will get to see Hannah doing a bit of crawling and standing.



The second is Chris's latest sermon. The title is "Standards for Holy Living" and it looks at Leviticus 19 to see what it says to us today. Click here to download, OR go to the 'Sermons' section of the blog on the right-hand side.

Unfortunately my previous method of uploading audio files didn't work this time, so I'm temporarily using a free service called Badongo - it means you have to download a 40MB file, with no other options! My file will also be deleted in a few weeks' time. :-(

Hannah's F I R S T

F

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Well, it wasn’t quite as dramatic, but you can be assured it got my adrenaline pumping. After getting over the initial panic, logic and common sense kicked in and I convinced myself that Hannah was alright.

Immediately, my next thought was : how embarrassing, how could I ever have allowed that to happen? What kind of Mummy am I?!



For the last month or so, Hannah’s motor skills have developed exponentially, leaving poor Gong Gong and Po Po utterly exhausted and eager to hand over this clumsy bundle of activity to her parents by the evening.

She graduated from sitting up unsupported to crawling, turning, climbing and walking with support in a matter of weeks. We had to lower her cot, add cot bumpers and purchase a playpen to keep the young lady from injuring herself. Above all, we followed a fellow blogger’s advice and started teaching her the meaning of … NO. After all, it made more sense to teach her to obey a command (mainly to stay away from danger), rather than childproof the entire house (which is impossible).

Hannah seemed to be making quite a headway in this, often stopping her enthusiastic crawl whenever she hears a stern NO. Perhaps we became a little over-confident.

One morning, I was reading her some nursery rhymes and she started getting up to her usual tricks. She flipped, turned, crawled, rolled and moved steadily towards the edge of the bed, which is perhaps two feet from the hard ground. Rather than line the bed edge with pillows, we had previously decided to stop her with verbal commands, which had worked up to now.

You can guess what happened next.

Somewhere in the middle of “twinkle twinkle little star”, our little darling tucked her head, turned over and rolled off the edge of the bed onto the floor.

It took a split second for it to sink in.

All at once my heart rate tripled and Hannah’s inconsolable wails pierced the air. I was certain that picture of her casually rolling off my bed would play in my mind over and over again, each time amplifying to nightmarish proportions.

Despite managing severe head injuries at work on a regular basis , checking my own baby over proved more difficult than expected. I toyed with the idea of visiting a paediatrician, but finally convinced myself that it was just a bad bump. A quick look at several websites gave me more reassurance, but ultimately it was Po Po's cool reaction that made me feel better all at once.

"Hannah's a tough girl. You should have seen your brother. He's fallen off the walker AND the bed and knocked his head so many times as a baby."

Indeed, a quick check with my colleagues at work later in the day revealed a simple truth. 3 out of 4 babies seem to tumble from elevated surfaces at least once in their lifetime, as though this is a rite of passage.

Anyway, Hannah seems to have graduated from the "School of Hard Knocks" with flying colours. A week on, she suffers no ill effects from the incident and has progressed further in her plight for independence.

"Mummy, see, no hands!" seem to be her latest war cry, and Daddy has counted a full 20 seconds of Hannah standing alone unsupported.

What a relief.

Caught in a moment

 

This gorgeous photo was taken by TP, a good friend from Church. Thanks for making Hannah look so angelic, TP!

Happy Mother's Day!

First of all, for our UK readers, you ought to know that Malaysia doesn't follow the UK date for Mother's Day. I don't know why, but they follow the US 'Second Sunday in May' date - which was yesterday.

So it was Cindy's first Mother's Day. I think she was a bit sceptical about whether Hannah would remember, or indeed come up with anything to mark this special occasion. As it turned out, Hannah did rather well:

Not only did she give Mummy a cute book entitled "101 Secrets A Cool Mom Knows" (note the Americanism in the book's title!)...

...but Hannah also managed to buy a lovely bunch of red roses, which arrived a day early.

Finally, Hannah spared a thought for Po-Po, too. The flowers are from Po-Po's daughter and Son-in-law, but Hannah happily gave Po-Po a winsome smile as her photo companion.

All in all, a big "Well done" to Hannah.

Now, dearest daughter, what can you manage for Father's Day?

monkey business

Ever wondered what fun you could have with a dart-throwing monkey?! Well even if you hadn't, I bet you are wondering now :-)

So why not try this game I stumbled across the other day. In the meantime, we will try to find something else to blog about...

Bloons

The True Tastebud Test!

So far, Hannah has proven herself to be a gastronomic guzzler. She has not refused anything we have fed her... although it has taken a couple of tries to convince her of certain foods (most recently, cauliflower). She has taken to egg yolks and chicken porridge quite happily.


So we decided to put her to the ultimate test today...






She tried the King of Fruits...



DURIAN!






So what do you think? She liked it? Hated it? Spat it across the room? Finished a whole one by herself? Keep scrolling -->








Looking good!

But is it finger-lickin' good?

Hmm, not too sure about this...

Ok, let's try another approach. Have a good lick of a durian stone, instead of Daddy's finger!

Ok, this might work.

Yes! Keep it coming! Bring it on!

So there you have it: the Queen of Eating conquers the King of Fruits

Spring Cleaning

It was another busy weekend.

Cindy spent the weekend renewing her CPR certification while Chris worked a full Saturday teaching the same lesson three times!

An unexpected spurt of energy on Sunday afternoon saw both of us clearing out our cupboards and storing away some of our mess. Chris discovered old clothes (and how much he has grown since then) and recycled bags of unwanted teaching materials. Cindy, on the other hand, was delighted to find that she had shrunk sufficiently to store away ALL her post-pregnancy and maternity clothes.

The weighing machine doesn't lie, yet Cindy failed the acid test - her wedding gown!

Naturally, we ended up digging through old pictures and looking at our wedding pictures and scrapbook. Although it has only been 3 years, everything seems to have moved on and changed. Certainly, we can't imagine how life would be like without Hannah!

Our not-so-young flower girl has since hit puberty and would probably cringe at this picture...

A picture paints a thousand words...

(Hint: Chinese Wedding Tea Ceremony)

Unfortunately, we don't have time to pen a thousand words at this sitting. If you can hear little Hannah squealing and screaming in the background you'd understand why. Probably one of the most memorable moments at our wedding, we can safely say that the not-so-subtly-hinted desires have been fulfilled:

If you are still clueless, click here

Good news: Web albums supports video clips!

Wild Hannah Video - Click Here!

In between blogs, take a moment to enjoy a few recent shots of Hannah when she was 7 months old.

By the way, she turned 8 months yesterday!

Hannah at 7 months

Weaning Hannah - the basics

After the last blog by Mr Knightrider-wannabe, this one is going to take a 180-degree turn and move into...

... our kitchen.

By popular demand, we are responding to a very common query by friends and strangers alike when they see Hannah: "What do you feed her?"

In this age where we are drummed with the concept of 'you are what you eat', most assume that Hannah's fair and rosy complexion must be due to a secret ingredient mixed into her daily feeds. Never mind that Hannah is half an English rose, and naturally looks different from the typical Malaysian baby.

So, you have been warned. If you have absolutely no interest in what goes into a baby's mouth, and think that this mother is slightly looney to post pictures of common kitchen appliances, then surf on to another website.

We have been careful to follow official recommendations in weaning our daughter. The reason is simple. Not only has Hannah inherited half of Daddy's looks, she has also inherited his family history of allergies - food allergies, hay fever, asthma, skin allergies etc. So if you wonder why we have been so fussy with her food choices, then wonder no more. We simply want Hannah to have the best start in life possible.

Making baby food is simple and easy. We've used this over and over again:




Baby food jars are notoriously expensive and contain high amounts of preservatives that can't be too good for a baby's young tummy. We've taken to preparing our own food , storing it in ice cubes (one cube = one ounce) and storing it in our freezer. When required, we take out one to two cubes of fruit/vegetable, mix it with two cubes of expressed milk, a small amount of cereal/rice/oats and ta daa, we have one healthy, tasty baby meal ready.

Doesn't that take up a lot of time?

Not really. Writing this blog is probably more time consuming. Weekends are the best time to prepare the food cubes. Or in my case, any day when I am post-call.

In fact, looking at the kaleidoscope of colours in the freezer is pretty rewarding. Let's see, we have: Sweet potato, carrots, green peas, mango, apples, pears, pumpkin, bannanas, plums and avocado in view.

But, what if you travel?

These frozen food cubes travel surprisingly well. We've brought them to Port Dickson, and as far as Penang. I suppose if you're used to handling frozen / chilled expressed milk, this is no different.

If fact, since Hannah loves to eat with the family, we have made it a habit to bring her food along when we go out for simple meals. Never mind that she gets comments like "Yucks, what's that green stuff she's eating?". She laps it all up and even asks for more at times!

It is beyond the scope of this blog to talk about what and when to feed your baby. Here are some sites to check out if you'd like to know more about recommended feeding schedules and baby food recipes that are tried and tested:

http://askdrsears.com/html/3/T030100.asp

http://www.wholesomebabyfood.com/

For a more local perspective, check this helpful book :

"When and What to Feed My Baby" by Mrs. Gill

Cooking for Hannah has been a joy. It has also been a way for us to reclaim some territory (the kitchen) that we've lost to Po Po since she moved in.

Our culinary skills must be of a decent standard. After all, the proof is in the pudding:

Have we answered your question?

The of the Proton SAGA


I am relieved to finally be able to write this blog. That's because I acually have a Proton SAGA to speak about, as opposed to one supposedly ordered but not materialised.

So what is a Proton SAGA?

It's a car. Chris decided 5 years of Malaysian public transport was enough, and we came to the conclusion we could spare enough money to get a second car (Cindy depends on her car to get to work in Klang every day - approximately a 25km journey one way). We chose Proton because, being a local company, their cars are cheap to buy and cheap to maintain. We chose the SAGA because it was the cheapest! It also has a 1.3 litre engine, so it isn't going to guzzle petrol.

So Proton make cheap cars... but are they any good?

Well, Proton (like other developing-country car manufacturers - think Daewoo, Korea) have cunningly made a living out of rebadging someone else's cars. Namely Mitsubishi. Now they DO make their own models. And did you know Proton actually owns that marvellous British automotive company 'Lotus'? Anyway, despite having a range of brand new models, they still get away with rebadging increasingly old Mitsubishis.

Ok, so what exactly is...or was... the Proton SAGA?

It is a 1983 Mitsubishi Lancer (yep, almost as old as me! Well, almost...). A fine car in it's day. And still fit for the roads today.

Nice. And why do you call this blog the "Saga" of the proton SAGA?

Well, that is what I'm getting to. You see, after some deliberation, Cindy and I decided to settle for the Proton SAGA. We found a dealer just round the corner from where we stay - very convenient, so we were feeling good. The salesman was helpful and seemed professional. All was looking good.

Then we wondered if these salesmen couldn't offer a bit of an incentive to buy their cars. So we asked around and managed to squeeze a meager discount out of a couple of salesmen. We reasoned that the car was already cheap, so we couldn't expect much discount anyway, yet it was still a bit disappointing. We went back to the first guy that we liked and asked him what he could do. He laughed (evil cackle?!) and assured us he could "do better than that." Thus, buoyed up with confidence we went to see him again.

This time, we went armed with credit card and cheque book. We felt we could just about pay for the car in cash and avoid any more bank loans (both of us really dislike loans except when absolutely necessary). Well, maybe it was a rush of euphoria at finally getting my own set of wheels, but we did a silly thing. We wrote a cheque for the full amount and went home, expecting a car in less than 2 weeks time.

Later we reflected on our situation. We paid a LARGE sum of money and went home with nothing! Not even a receipt, since their finance office was closed by the time we made the payment. What were we thinking?

The next day Chris got a faxed copy of the receipt. A few days later, feeling increasingly uneasy, we called our friendly salesman to find out when the car was coming. We were told the colour we wanted was not in stock. Could take two weeks more. Maybe three. Can't promise anything.

Gulp. Money paid. No car. What could we do?

When I got home that day, my Father-in-law thrust the newspaper in my face. There was a new ad from Proton. They were promoting the Proton SAGA in celebration of Malaysia's 50 years of independence...with a 25% discount. That was it. I suddenly felt completely cheated - although I really only had myself to blame for being so naive.

After much deliberation of our options (including going straight to Proton HQ to beg for mercy!!!), my Father-in-law agreed to see our salesman the next day. Well, he was also very unsure of how to approach this issue. So he prayed. Of course, he didn't want to get nasty and he hoped the salesman would be reasonable. He asked our Heavenly Father to make the way smooth for a decent resolution. He was an example to me since I was hardly able to sleep due to the issue, let alone commit it in prayer to God.

And what was the resolution?

My Father-in-law first asked for the original receipt (of which we only had a faxed copy prior to this) and then - Praise the LORD - the salesman himself said "oh, and by the way uncle Proton is now offering a discount on the SAGA, so we will be issuing you a refund for the difference once the car is registered." That's right - because he couldn't get his hands on a car earlier, he hadn't registered it so he still had the money. By the time he would get a car, the new price would be in effect!

I called him that evening to tell him we were willing to change our colour preference - if the offer was for a limited time, we might have missed it by the time he found our first choice. We went for black. Sporty, yes. Sleek, yes. But hot in a country like Malaysia. But I figured with the savings from the discount we could invest in a bit of window tinting to keep the heat down.

It took another week after that phone call to get this: