Papa's Big Day

Yesterday was Papa's birthday.

And, as every year, he took the day off work. Papa has a very stressful job so the boys and I had planned a nice breakfast followed by them going to school and then Papa and I having a nice lunch together and then taking the boys out for burgers (a treat) in the evening before KC has his drama lesson - with the impossibly cheerful drama teacher.

However, things are really stressful at work for Papa at the moment so he threw a spanner into our carefully planned morning by announcing that he wanted to get some work finished so he could enjoy the rest of the day.

The boys were a bit disappointed but I told them we could give presents and cards later when Papa had his cake (which I hadn't actually made yet). So KC went and gave Papa a hug and kiss and wished him Happy Birthday by performing a birthday dance he had been practising (it was very sweet). Then he went off to school.

TJ then decided that he wanted to wish Papa a happy birthday - so he went into the sitting room where Papa was working and saw that the lamp was on - TJ knows that Papa hates wasting electricity so he duly switched the lamp off at the main switch by the wall.

It was then that I saw the colour drain out of Papa's face as he stared at his laptop... TJ had turned off the internet router... Papa whispered, "I've lost eveything" as TJ cried, "Happy Birthday!!!!!" and jumped onto Papa's head.

Papa was now turning a shade of crimson so I decided that it might be best if TJ and I went to school early. TJ took the hint and we were at school before the gates even opened. Then I took the dog for a long, long walk before going home to see if Papa was ok - and had managed to finish off the rest of his work.

I came back and Papa decided we were going out and as it was his day he didn't want to do any of the things I had planned... like looking for a new family car (boring) or going to Ikea (also dull) - I know it not exactly birthday mayhem but how often do I have Papa to myself without the kids? - and taking the boys to either of those places is hell - last time we went to a car showroom KC set off loads of car alarms - he was trying all the car doors to see if he could sit behind the wheel - even the ones of cars that were not for sale. And Ikea - well, that's a nightmare - TJ climbed into a cupboard once to see if he could find Narnia (I blame my Mum for letting them watch the movies). It took us ages to find him and when we did he popped out shouting 'But I've only been gone a few seconds!..... much to the 'delight' of the store staff.

Still, it was Papa's day so we did what he loves - we went shopping for clothes! Clothes for him - not baby gap, or kiddy Next, or Junior John Lewis - No, proper grown up stores where people talk to you and not to your children. Proper stores where you get time to try on clothes without little boys shouting that they are bored or pulling the arms off a mannequin... that's happened...

For just one afternoon we were proper adults again - shopping, lunching and going to the toilet without having little ones running behind you playing with hand dryers whilst you try to 'go'...

Being a parent means you never take the little things in life for granted...

But it was lovely to go out as a family that evening and just eat junk food and then watch Papa blow out the candles on the enormous banana and walnut cake I made for him... its his favourite!

Food, Glorious, Food?

This morning opened ominously...

It began like this... Papa turned over in bed and said, "you won't be offended if I say something, will you?"

As soon as your partner says that you know you are going to be massively upset... 

"Go on," I replied.

"Promise you won't get offended."

"Just say it!" I said.

"Ok, but erm... Are you planning on losing weight?" 

I was now bloody offended... But couldn't show it... 

"Of course I am," I replied... And then rolled over to begin my morning filled with self loathing and bitterness about the young beautiful me that no longer existed... It was enough to make me reach for a bacon roll... I didn't, I made a full English breakfast instead... 

This obsession with food all began with Nigel Slater and his daily tv show about cooking with whatever is left in your fridge... By Friday he was showing us the delicious baguette stuffed with left over lamb and almonds and whatever fancy stuff he had in his well stocked fridge. I kind of lost it with the tv... And when Papa came in from work it was to see me standing with the fridge door open shouting, 'look at my fridge! Show me what bloody delicacy you can make from that..." I was revealing to Nigel the entire contents of our fridge which consisted of a half eaten tub of Philadelphia cheese (with chives) and a bottle of wine.

Obviously Nigel Slater doesn't live with two small gannets, I mean children, who simply vacuum everything that isolated in front of them!

So Papa ordered a take away while I opened the wine. I always think fish and chips should be washed down with a good Sauvignon...

Yesterday was The Saturday Supermarket run... And I was going to stock up my fridge fully for the entire week, just as Nigel suggests.... It was a lot of fun planning meals for the entire week and shopping fully prepared, without running the risk of throwing stuff into the trolley just because the kids 'absolutely need it' or its their 'favourite!'

How the hell did you spend £200!" Said Papa at the till... Mind you he was clutching a Superman dress up outfit and a computer game... Never take children shopping on a Saturday with an easily swayed Papa... "It's the cost of food," I told him, ignoring his extra purchases...

Obviously, it's all my fault....  I am eating too much and spending too much money... So the idea of my diet will serve two functions... A thinner, less angry me and a reduced food bill.... 

Until then I shall practice my "of course I'm not offended' face..... 

Coming Home...

That's how it feels coming back to Singapore... Especially when we see our lovely friends. We have a lot of people to catch up with and started today with a friend I made on my first day working in Singapore back in 1999. She is now married, to another great friend, and have two adorable children, one of whom is in love with our son.... We shall ensure their betrothal by the end of the trip. More friends to meet tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow... Great fun!

After a lovely afternoon, in which we persuaded our friends to take our washing home with them (they have a maid!) we decided to do some shopping. KC needed summer pyjamas, as the onesie he brought with him is just too hot in evenings where the temperature does not fall below 25c. Papa also decided he needed a new T-shirt, so we went to a few stores and he finally found one he liked... And today he learned the lesson that all Caucasians learn very early on... Singapore does not cater for British 'physiques'! ( unless you are small and skinny, of course).

When we lived here Papa used to laugh when I came home after a days shopping in a state of depression. Here I was a large size ( even when I was skinny)... It was even more depressing when you walk into a shop and the assistants would scream 'no large sizes!' And usher you out of the door.... Being Caucasian in Asia stops being fun when clothes shopping... I'm sure it's even worse for the ladies!

To be honest, one thing I have noticed is that Singaporeans do seem to be getting bigger, obviously affluence does affect size as people eat out more and fast food outlets are now everywhere. But today, Papa understood my depression when shopping. He went into a local store (that also has branches in the UK). In the UK he is sized as a medium... Which is fine. But today he went into the same store to fine he was an XL! He was so shocked that he simply threw the clothes back and stormed out of the shop. I ran after him and reminded him that this was Singapore and therefore they were Asian sizes... He looked at me disparagingly, "Asian sizes... Asian sizes!" He repeated himself for dramatic effect before a drawn out pause... "I am bloody Asian!" Words failed me.... But inside I was smiling!

Later that evening we decided to go out for a quick dinner and as it was getting late we popped into a local zchinese restaurant chain. God and  cheap as Papa puts it. All was going well until the waitress decided she needed to know more about our family. As I took TJ to the toilet I came back to find Paoa and the waitress having a 'heated' discussion in Chinese, with KC sitting there. The gist of it was that she wanted to know where the boys' mother was. When Pap told her they didn't have one she seemed confused and then asked if they were his children and if he had married an 'Ang moh' calmly, Papa had told her that the boys were adopted, by us... she didn't seem able to accept this and started to argue with Papa about same sex adoption and her belief that it was wrong. It was at this point that I came back. This seemed to make her angrier. As did my trying to calm everything down.

The waitress then threw the cutlery down and said she couldn't serve us. Her senior turn came over and Papa started to tell her what had happened. She then served us herself whilst the other waitress sat in the corner glaring at us. It didn't make for a comfortable evening out but at least the boys were unaware. We left quietly and I ensured we had a late night drink to calm everyone down... the boys had an ice cream... ice cream at 10pm in the heat of the tropical night is great fun!

Maybe Singapore isn't quite ready for a gay family just yet.

Breakfast Cereal....

What is going on this morning?

For the past two weeks TJ has insisted on only eating one type of cereal - Weetabix - that's it. Nothing else, just Weetabox... Until today. Today he took one look at the golden Wheaty goodness in his bowl and said, 'I hate that - I wanted Shreddies!' Yet, only a few weeks ago I was called by his teacher at school as TJ had been crying all morning, the reason? He hated Shreddies... I kid you not!

Now food and TJ has always been a difficult mix - TJ has a disorder which makes swallowing and therefore, eating quite a chore for him, so we never force him to eat and sometimes meals can take a long time - up to two hours! However, TJ is also incredibly stubborn and once he decides he doesn't like something or doesn't want to do anything then it can be a nightmare. This morning was obviously going to be one of those days.

It didn't help that last night, while KC was at drama with the impossibly cheerful drama teacher, TJ had to come shopping with me. Like most parents I bribe my children around the supermarket. My favourite reply to 'What do I get if I'm good?' has always been, 'A happy Daddy!' Last night that wasn't working. Last night TJ pulled out all the stops - instead of the usual whinging and whining his way around the store - which just infuriates me and we end up falling out, he did the reverse. He was helpful! Firstly, I nearly fell into the trolley in shock and then I found I quite enjoyed this new shopping experience. He got the eggs for me, ran ahead to get the bread and even waited patiently while I queued for cheese. We got to the check out and he helped with the bags and then sat quietly on a bench whilst I packed. 'What a good boy,' the lady of the check out remarked. 'Yes,' I repleid, 'but I know he is plotting something.' The lady looked at me with disgust as if to ask how I could possibly doubt this little blonde angel, who by now was sitting directly under a spotlight and was backlit - so he did look slightly heavenly. We went to leave when TJ quietly said, 'Oh the toys are over there, I wonder if they have a football toy?' Ah - now the reality. As anyone will tell you (especially Papa) I am the pushover in our family. 'Ok, lets go and look at them,' I said.

But once again TJ fooled me. Instead of going for the most expensive thing on the shelf, as expected, he pulled out a little silver 'Roy of the Rovers' novelty trophy mug. 'I think I would like this,' he said. I looked at the price, a final reduction to £2 - result. 'Ok,' I said, ' thats fine, you've been really good today so I can let you have that.' 'Hooray!' he shouted, 'Now Arsenal finally have a trophy!' The man next to us nearly fell over laughing....

Of course, that led to repercussions in the car. As soon as KC got in - completely hyper after an hour with the impossibly cheerful teacher - the first thing he said was, 'What did I get?'

'You got a drama lesson,' I told her. He thought about this and burst into tears -'I dont' get anything, TJ gets everything, you hate me and you love him more...' etc etc. I was trying to drive so I said, 'KC take a look at the price tag, what does it say?'

She stopped crying, 'It says the number 2,' she replied. 'Right,' I said, 'Then you can have your £2 pocket money when we get home, ok?'

'Good,' she said, 'because I want a CD.' I think someone will be learning the value of money very soon.