Hello, I blog!
I share all my sporadic and toilet thoughts in here, because I am random like that.
How to stop a kid from crying
Just imagine you’re in a public place. Doesn’t matter if the place is quiet or noisy to begin with. Nearby, you spot a couple with a really young child no more than three years old. For some reason or another, the kid suddenly starts bawling at the top of his/her little lungs while the parents struggle to control the kid (but in vain).
Grarrr, when will the kid just shut the fuck up already? Most of us would think.
Well, one of my best friends has this theory of how to get kids to quieten down. Kids often yell, scream and cry for attention. Positive attention, she says. They want to be mollycoddled by the parents, and basically have the parents fall to their knees coaxing the life out of them just to get them to stop crying.
And when the parents actually give in, they are reinforcing the behaviour. In future, the kids will resort to making one hell of a noise to get what they want because … well, it worked before, didn’t it?
So, she says, what if we gave them attention that is contrary to what they want instead?
She continues. The next time you see a kid crying, look in their generation, point and laugh. She assured me that so far, this has had a 100% success rate for her.
This evening, I decided to put her theory to the test.
While queuing at a restaurant, this kiddo standing nearby suddenly began bawling loudly. The mayhem lasted for a good two minutes and showed no signs of slowing down. The younger cousin and I were trying our darnedest best to hold a decent conversation but it was hard when every sentence was punctuated with an even louder wail.
In a mixture of exasperation and bemusement, I decided to share my friend’s theory to the younger cousin.
“So you see, my friend has this theory. Next time, when you see some kid crying somewhere and the parents can’t seem to calm them down, you should just start laughing at the kid.”
That was when I did a live demonstration – on that kid.
Imagine me looking straight into the kiddo’s eyes and laughing. Not a loud, MUAHAHA kind of laugh – but a slightly muted version of that. Well, I was trying this for the first time, so I wasn’t quite sure about err … how the parents will take to it.
And damn, it worked.
The kid clammed up instantly and looked straight at me. Big wide, innocent eyes. As if wondering “waiiiiiiii is this girl laughing at me?”
And it was back to blissful silence.
Awesome. My friend is such a genius.
Caveat: I doubt the parents were very pleased, though – because the kid’s dad was constantly shooting me disapproving looks after that. In response, I returned him a look that was meant to say well, it seems like I can control your kid better than you. (;
Possibly Gran’s most interesting birthday
My grandmother turned 88 today.
After a huge dinner with the rest of the extended family – including my 9 uncles and aunts with their spouses, children (my cousins) and their children’s children (err, quite a number of my cousins have their own families too) – we gathered around a row of tables for the mandatory (out of tune) birthday song and cake.
And that was when the drama began.
Little Luke – my older cousin’s three-year old son – bounced happily on my grandmother’s lap, clapping and waving his hands around wildly while the rest of the members of the new generation (more of my cousins’ kids – comprising another three-year old boy, two one-year old girls and one eight-year old dude) looked on.
Till now, I can’t get over how noisy little kids can be. They look so cute and innocent in small, bite-sized packages, until they open their mouths and … OH. MY. GOODNESS.
Oh yeah, I digressed.
Little Luke eventually couldn’t hold back the sight of the huge cream-filled cake in front of him, leaned forward and glomped down an entire mouthful of strawberry cream straight off the cake.
The response from the rest of the extended family looking on was a mixture of surprised yelps and some laughter. Little Luke, obviously pleased with the response he got, flashed a cream-smothered grin and proceeded to bend over the cake for a second mouthful.
My older cousin eventually responded (where was she the first time round?!) by running forward and grabbing the little fellow before he could attempt a third round. But alas, attempting to restrain Little Luke was a major struggle. Even with her firm grip on Luke, the latter had still managed to brush the tip of his tongue against the cake for his third helping of cream.
The extended family had eventually decide to ignore the little cream-obsessed monster and launched into an off-tune version of ‘Happy Birthday’, followed by a shower of saliva spray as members of the new generation (the little kids) blew out the candles.
Little Luke continued to bounce around on my grandmother’s lap, clapping his hands happily and flashing his (still cream-filled) grin at everyone around.
In the midst of the din around, my grandmother suddenly gave a yell. This was soon followed by another yell, and finally an extended call of distress.
Some of us dashed over, only to spot a huge wet patch of I-don’t-know-what on her right pant leg. Some of the sliminess was dripping off Little Luke’s right arm. Puke? We didn’t know. Little Luke was still happily bouncing around on my grandmother’s left leg while my grandmother continued to whine.
A few seconds later, Little Luke flashed another grin. This time, his grin was peppered with a mixture of strawberry cream and some remnants of puke. Plus, the stench was beginning to diffuse around the room like wildfire.
I could no longer see up-close what was going on at the scene because by then, I had already backed up at least twenty-feet away from the source of that offending stench (Little Luke and my grandmother’s soaked pant leg). Geez, I totally hated the stench of puke.
The birthday lady and the little puking machine were quickly escorted to the toilets for a quick clean-up while the waiters at the restaurant took the cake away for slicing.
Considering Little Luke’s close proximity to the cake, nobody actually knows whether he had puked on the cake or not. But from the looks of it, everyone is assuming he did because everyone was suddenly so reluctant to eat the cake after that.
Me? I didn’t touch a single slice.
Um, Happy Birthday to my Grandmother anyway.
And what’s an extended family gathering without some drama?
Cousins united (among the din of kids)
Gee, it’s been such a long time since the four of us took a proper photo together. (Okay, I lied. Our last photo had been early this year – but this is the first one in a long time where all of us look decent.)
Sticking together since young – the awesome foursome.
Clockwise from top left: David, me, Jeremiah, Matthias.
I look really tiny here.
The above was taken during a double celebration within my extended family – my uncle’s birthday, and the 1st birthday of his second grandson.
As usual, I came face to face with so many people I didn’t know. But then again, since when do we attend a large family gathering and not find any faces we don’t recognize?
Apart from the usual members of my extended family who meet on a regular basis – there were vast amounts of people from what I call, “the other extended family” – namely, the extended family of my cousin’s wife.
Kids, kids, everywhere
Boy, “the other extended family” really did know how to reproduce! Look at all the KIDS.
They ran around the living room, screaming their lungs out, shoving toy guns and all sorts of thingamajigs all over the place. They fought over balloons. They pushed each other. They threw themselves on the floor and kicked and screamed.
One kid crawled under my legs while I was seated – which made me jump up and yelp.
And another stepped on Jeremiah’s foot – which was recuperating in a huge cast after a recent operation. (Props to him for not jumping and yelping, though.)
And boy. Not only are they rowdy kids – they’re a bunch of smart alec rowdy kids.
There was one occasion where I shouted (to make myself heard over the din) at them to play outside the house instead of around the living room where plates and cups are precariously stacked, and the adults struggling to watch television.
The response I got?
“YOU WANT US TO PLAY ON THE ROAD AND GET KNOCKED DOWN AND DIE, IS IT?”
– Kid in the orange sleeveless tee.
?!?!?!
Pfffffft, never heard of the garden and the backyard, is it?
More babies on the way?
I received news that a cousin (J) is expecting her second child. (Which makes the fifth kiddo from the fourth generation on the way.) I’ve another expecting cousin as well – although I’ve learnt of her pregnancy much, much earlier.
And it seems that my reactions towards each pregnancy are becoming more and more varied.
Eight years ago, when I received news that my first nephew is on his way, my response was an enthusiastic “Oh my gosh, that’s fantastic!”
Two years ago, upon learning about my upcoming second nephew, my response was a mere “Mmmmmph!”
Last year, when I learnt that the third nephew was coming along, my response was a sharp squeak – “Another boy?!?”
A couple of months ago when I learnt that another cousin is pregnant with her second child (in two years), I reacted with a … “WHAT?!? You mean they’re so bored they have no other form of entertainment at night?!?”
And after tonight’s news? I leaned towards my mum and whispered “Whose condom broke?” Needless to say, my speechless mum couldn’t garner any response.
Later on, J confessed that she decided to have a second child because Little Joshua (her first child, now seven years old) wanted her to.
I immediately had mental images of Little Joshua approaching both parents and asking – “Mummy, Daddy! Can you two have sex? Pleeeeeease?” and couldn’t stop cracking up after that. Hehehehe.
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