Diamonds are forever...

Or, are they?

For when i buy something, i expect it to last FOREVER. Now, i understand why things do not. i remember when i was pregnant with our first child, i would drop mugs after mugs because i could not handle the passing and receiving from one hand to the other. That was when it dawned unto me why shops selling bowls and plates continue to find (perhaps THE SAME) customers buying them. And if i get something expensive, like a teeny weeny one above, i'll lose it....

Yesterday, we went down to Sony station to enquire if they sell the battery for our camera -we bought it when we were preparing to receive a newborn into our lives a little four years earlier. To our (mine, actually!) delight, the salesperson said that the normal life of a battery is one and a half years to two and a half years. For us to have been able to use it for four years, we have done well in outrunning its lifespan.

The kid is coming up so i can't write more. ...i just want to say that we decided on trying to get another battery instead of a new camera 'cos it just doesn’t make sense competing for a new thing that comes out every six months. i believe that life is about creating beautiful memories but i don’t want a memory that is based on material gains. It is boring, superficial, and quite meaningless –to be honest, our beautiful memories should be of things intangible and things that promote the human spirit.

I have been thinking of you all and I wish you a Blessed Christmas here ‘cos I know I can’t send a handwritten one out in time.
Love and God Bless, jeanne anne hsi . Weng Zhifeng (another year older)

Cayla . Jia-Rui (1-year)
Zoe . Jia-Qi (4-years)
HanPin (older than jeanne)

A Rhyme for Christmas with the little ones: (use your fingers)
This little king went for a holiday,
This little king bore the gifts,
This little king had a great feast.
And these two little ones represent YOU
And ME sharing the gifts of Christmas: Peace, Joy, Care, Time, Space, Beautiful Memories of our time together: the messages of Emmanuel.

comfort . discomfort

Cont'd:
My husband thinks that giving that packet of tissue won't work because
1. How do you tell a person to spit "correctly"?
2. I might get punched.

He finds complaining to the NEA (National Environment Agency) and making them take action against those who spit in public thoughtlessly more effective.

But the big picture is not my style. I guess i really have to get out of my comfort zone if i really want to see some change. Perhaps i'll do a little of both. jeanne

are we part of the solution?

spit, spitting, spat

Oh gosh, i just can't stand it when it happens so fast... and right in front of you. And off they go.

I'm like: How do you respond, when a foreign worker spits in front of you, on the floor - in the coffeeshop, on the road - upon which you tread?

i thought and thought and thought. Perhaps i'll give them a card that says: "Please do NOT spit, Keep Singapore clean." Hmm, too preachy. i hate that.

Then, i came up an idea: i'll give him a packet of tissue paper. (My imagined corny thought: i'll flash a huge smiley face card in front of my face, should i be really shy). The packet of tissue paper would have a card with an appropriate slogan like: "Please spit into something" or "Please spit wisely".

i might write to an MP who's now battling with all these problems with the acceptance of foreign workers into their neighbourhood.. perhaps i can begin with that neighbourhood that embraces them (can't remember which estate but it's definately not serangoon gardens).


AND - by the way, i spit too. jeanne

Les Miserables (to be cont'd)

Monseigneur Charles François-Bienvenu Myriel
Saintly bishop whose compassionate treatment causes the reformation of the ex-convict Valjean. He is also called "M. Bienvenu."

Channeling our negative energies

I was just thinking to myself that this P that I talked about, in my last blog, is driving me nuts with its (gender secured) insecurities and neediness. I acknowledge that ALL human beings feel insecure from time to time but if it were ALL the time, I can go a little bonkers. So, in my desperation, I picture myself creating a piece of art – with NUTS. It was so good, I thought it FUNNY and IMAGINED it so beautiful that I really feel that I should try doing it. jeanne anne hsi

ps/ if you ever feel intimidated by something/ someone, IMAGINE (Eg. a mad dog barking –when your lecturer/ boss is scolding you- or something really crazy… you might just surprise yourself with your calmness)

Great Expectations

“People become angry with each other when there are expectations that are not met”, said Fr Radice.

To add on to that, I find that when there are expectations, it gives rise to disappointment when it is not fulfilled. It is better to go into something with open mindedness. One good example I had was when I attended an Inter-Religious-Faith-Training Program. People from all over Asia attended. At feedback time, some were disappointed because the Buddhist monastery that was selected for the program was not run-down enough. It had proper toilet facilities and dormitories to accommodate the participants. It would be impossible to keep someone happy all the time, not to say cater to the needs of everyone.


On a personal note, I have had a hard time making someone happy. If it is not this, it is that. And then, I thought perhaps I should spend even more time and make even more efforts to fulfill that person’s needs. And then what? I realized that even by doing so, there would be other things that this person would gripe about. I cannot. I just can’t. And I can’t even share about it with P. Would I be expecting this person not to have expectations from me? And it would be hard, for this person to hear it, coming from me. I hope someone tells P about it. Having said that, the best thing is for ME (for change always begin with oneself) to learn how to deal with all these. There was a time I feel guilty (guilt is a really, really destructive emotion) for not “fulfilling my promises” (Hey, I didn’t even make a promise, I say it in all earnest but there are circumstances that came up) and I still do, this guilt feeling being so much a part of my personality. But I have a new prescribed mantra: “I have already done my best”, which I chant quietly to myself instead of getting angry and ramming the car with the kids in it.

I used to be so depressed about this particular thing, I thought only in P’s death, I would feel relived AND only in my death, I would not have to deal with P anymore. Right now, I am saying it as a-matter-of-factly. I think I am doing better and spinning in slower circles. And the fact that I am able to reflect about it instead of ranting it. jeanne anne hsi

What I want for Chinese New Year…

Is: for my breasts to stop leaking! Pathetic, AND, not at all funny if you were me. Consider this: your other breast leaks milk through the pad, the bra, your top, flows right through continuously down onto the bed sheet, through the mattress protector and INTO the mattress (which is the final straw). Honestly, I feel so helpless!

God, does it mean I can no longer go out (and feed the baby anywhere under the big blue sky)? There was once I was breastfeeding (hmm, discreetly) in Church and when I had a chance to look down- to my horror of horrors - my other side was all wet! How embarrassing!

If there’s a device I wish for its invention for this century, it would be a breast milk stopper.

I’m tired. Tired of this routine of a 5-min bath (nice and clean; ps/for myself, not the baby), then feed her and she throws up (the pediatrician calls this a reflux) her 2 to 3 cupfuls of feed all over me OR the other breast leaks. I can’t even stand my own smell! I must not forget to mention the shooting poo - the deadliest, all which warrants another 5-min bath.

I think: bathing is not the solution. The PROBLEM is: I can’t stop the other breast from leaking.

If I’m running out of time for my 101th bath of the day, or running out of clean clothes to even bother, I just GO. Which means, proceed without a bath. That’s when i stand 10 feet away when I speak to the teacher, the parent, a male friend, a not-so-close friend, a stranger. And when that somebody wants to get up close to have a peek at the baby, I claim : She smells! And ... Of Course they don’t mind. And I have to explain it’s the smelly type of smell, which is a sneaky way of turning to someone in the lift and be the first to say, “Did YOU just fart?” when you just did.

I’m not convinced there is a foolproof solution for this leaking business. I just hope the day will never come for someone running up to me saying, “Excuse me miss, your milk is leaking!” and, it isn’t from my shopping bag of milk cartons. jeanne anne hsi