Monday, 28 April 2014

Photo evidence of my (and Sinagpore's) existence


What do you mean, where have I been?  I’ve been HERE -  “Here” being the vortex which mothers of many children fall into when all those children suddenly, all at once, DEMAND attention and love and other unattainable things.  

A thousand years ago, back when I was toying with the notion of having a third kid (and thought I had a say in such matters), I canvassed opinion on Should I Do It from every single woman I met who had Already Done It.* Opinions varied – sort of.  Not one person said Do Not Do it (except for my sister who, with the honesty you only get from family, shrieked:  Are you fucking mad? You can barely cope with two!)  The closest to this I got from anyone else was an email warning from a dear friend that “three is chaotic, there is NO TIME FOR ANYTHING.”

Anyway, she was right.  Not that I didn’t believe her or anything, but three is chaotic.  And that’s with full time help. 

So.  Because I have no time for anything (other than driving the length and breadth of this island several times a day, school meetings, day-dreams in which I take the head of the little shit at school who is bullying the Boy and RIP IT OFF HIS SHOULDERS, gym classes, more gym classes*, swimming lessons, dance classes and – Christ Alive – flute classes) I present the latest in my photographic series of:

Singapore:  A Very Strange Place Indeed



I love this.  In case you can't read it, its says "Packed with goodness to pamper your baby", followed by a list of the "goodness". I don't know about your children, but there's little more mine like than to be pampered with a bit of Propylene Glycol or Methylparaben.  And you should see their little faces light up when I break out the Cetyl Pyridinium Chloride.


Mothers!  Do you need A Treat of Love?  Then get yourself some lemon dishwashing soap! Because nothing is as treatful, or as full of love, as a bottle of soapy citrussy chemicals by your kitchen sink.  (Apart, of course, from the implied suggestion that the washing up is all for you alone to do. Happy Mother's Day!) 


Technically, there's nothing amusing about this.  Meat is meat, right? If you're going to eat the usual stuff, then you shouldn't stop and take photos of the more unusual.  But... well, it's not everyday that you see crocodile meat killing time beside the frozen prawns in local your supermarket.

These last two are for the more puerile amongst you.  Happy sniggering, Beavises. 



(And one last one for Helen: 

Honestly, I think you'd have to be certified to open a kids spa.)

(*I consequently put it out of my head, as Something To Think About Another Time.  5 minutes later it happened, without any thinking on my part at all.)
(**Neither of these gym classes are my own, I should point out. )

9 comments:

  1. Hahahahahahaha. More of these please. I love them.

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    1. Just for you. My reaction was, naturally - are you f*cking kidding me?? But no, it's not a
      joke. PEOPLE SPEND MONEY ON THIS.
      (argh, cannot attach it here. will stick it in the blog above)

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  2. Jen Hochschild29 April 2014 04:08

    I guess I'm slightly relieved that life in Singapore with 3 kids doesn't sound easier than life in SF with 3 kids! I have an idea - you and me, on a beach somewhere while Lenny and the Man handle 6 on their own. Please don't pass out laughing right now at the thought -you have your kids to watch. Miss you guys!!

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    1. Oh Jen. You should know better than to make a woman who has gone through 3 pregnancies laugh...

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  3. I could do with some Cetyl Pyridinium Chloride right now! Glad the weekly shop is still providing such gems!

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    1. Walking into a supermarket here is like going back to 1977: The music; the styles; the food prices; the food (processed shite is BIG here). The baby wipes are good to chew on, however.

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  4. In the unlikely event you were ever wondering, four kids means no time for ANYTHING EVER and more relentless driving to sports than could ever be believed, and I am telling you, as one parent to another, DO NOT DO IT. Lovely to read you again, had been wondering whether you had simply melted in the heat.

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    1. Oh dear lady, you are my heroine. (A heroine I NEVER EVER will be emulating - my ob gyn and his zippo lighter took care of that...) I cannot fathom what your days must be like. Do you get up at 4am so that you can have a shower in peace? I actually locked myself in my bedroom yesterday so I could send an email, and it took 10 minutes, what with the banging and the shouting (theirs) and the shouting back (mine) and the tears (all of ours). If I had 4 I think I would just have to leave home, Dick Whittington Style.

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  5. Mainly I go to work, despite spending almost all my earnings on childcare. At work I can drink coffee, and use the bathroom at will. It's worth it. I do have to finish early though, as otherwise I can't collect everyone for ballet soccer basketball tutoring etc etc and cook dinner somehow. The late afternoons and evenings are hellish. But I figure if I didn't work they would still be hellish in much the same way. So I continue. Did I mention they are all boys under ten? No? Well, you see how a means of escape is mandatory.

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