Lunch with girl friends

There were 4 of us, and we ate enough to feed 8 at Kho Kho Nara today.  I enjoy meeting up with this motley group of mummies because as all women do when we gather, we talk about anything under the sun (family, work, our children and then some....) and I walk away from lunch with a lighter heart and heavier stomach. *grin*

4 years and a bit ago, all of us went onto the internet to find other mums with children that were due to be born in July.  Now we have ready dates for ourselves and our children :)

Parenting sans a voice

One would think that the boys will be running amok through the home, since both the Husband and I have lost our voices.  That has not happened.  Both the Husband and I believe very strongly that the boys are our responsibility to grow into people that we are proud to present to the world.  Like plants, the little boys need care and love (and food! their stomach capacities seem to be boundless, yes even at ages 4 and 2, ingesting any kind of non-green food 24/7), as well as a judicious pruning of wayward branches that stunt their growth.

This morning, the Husband quelled Medium Boy's request for one more Oreo cookie with a single finger and a firm 'No', after Medium Boy had stated his case for just one more cookie.  The Husband's gesture made me chuckle inwardly.

Last night, I broke up Medium Boy's and Small Boy's fight by whispering 'Come here and sit with me' while I cuddled them while humming softly.  Definitely much easier to hum than sing with a sore throat :)
Methinks all the boys need is to be listened to, and to be held.

We think sometimes that poverty is only being hungry, naked and homeless. The poverty of being unwanted, unloved and uncared for is the greatest poverty. We must start in our own homes to remedy this kind of poverty. - Mother Teresa

Sore throats all around

When I have a sore throat, my physical voice is gone.  The bridge that I use to communicate with my family is suddenly clogged up.  And I feel far away from the Husband, Medium Boy and Small Boy.

The Husband is having a sore throat too.  Hence we limit our words to each other to the barest minimum, and I understand less of him this week.  Sore throat, begone!!

Why Medium Boy is called Medium Boy

In life and in parenting, the days are long but the years are short.

Today I decided to start a blog to capture my boys' growing up years.  Small Boy is 2 years 4 months old.  Medium Boy - I will explain why I call him Medium Boy later - is 4 years 1 month old.

One evening last year, Medium Boy declared that his didi was a small boy.  What does that make you and papa, I asked him.  Papa is Big Boy and I am Medium Boy, he declared proudly.  Ah well, so Medium Boy he is then.