Paper factory

My life has shifted downstairs.  Until Saturday 4pm with the arrival of B, a lot of our life took place in the family room which is a sort of landing between the master bedroom and the other two bedrooms.  It houses the computers, desks, the piano, cellos, viola, and armchair, a rocking chair and 5 bookcases.  Yes I was allowed to buy one more. Just one more.  With an extension.

Despite B being the most obedient well mannered member of this family, she's not allowed upstairs as she's biologically incapable of keeping her fur to herself, and we're trying to keep the sleeping areas fur free.  She's awfully good about this.  On the first day we told her to stay and wait at the bottom of the stairs, and stay and wait she did.  When it sounded too much fun and exciting upstairs she finally let out a yelp to remind us of her presence.

So now many of our activities have shifted downstairs.  For the first time in years we're using the living room, not only when we have guests.  We're doing the old fashioned thing of sitting on the arm chairs and reading a book before bed, instead of internetting.  The kids do their reading there instead of in bed, and the music practice has been transformed into daily recitals for the dog.  It's not a bad thing.  B likes our company and quietly nods off to sleep and grunts when we switch the light off and go up to bed.  At 6am as we descend the stairs it's a lunacy of happiness as she greets us each.

Today I decided to bring down my in tray to sort out and to work a little on some chinese.  I managed to read one text more or less (had to look up a few very basic words!).  What a paper factory it is again.  We've been sorting and throwing and organizing and still the table is yet to be cleared.  We have guarantees and instructions from the early 90's.  It's not so much that I have a problem throwing them out, the problem is finding the time and energy to sort through them to throw them out.  Our last big sort out a few weekends ago resulted in 6 black bags going out the door.  And when we do throw out, suddenly it's the one thing that is needed (eg. Ikea instructions for less than handy handymen putting a bed together in a hurry).  For good measure my daughter was given her 3 baby boxes (make those big boxes from when she was a baby) and school files for the last 5 years and told to keep only the best. Even she weakened after a few hours of this.  My son's stuff is just piled in piles.  He has cupboards with potential in his room, 5 metres floor to ceiling.  We may never have to sort and then could just close the door quietly when we leave and forget about it all.

Does anyone else get the "flylady" emails... they exhaust me, but occasionally in a queue I use them as last resort reading.  The philosophy is pretty spot on.  Set a timer for 15 minutes and tackle one spot.  One day I may be a domestic goddess and justify my expensive accounting education with a spotless house and everything filed and thrown out at 5 yearly rotating intervals.

And then I'll be in a position to blog about the stitching on my Tods for Grit.

Bottom line, what's better - me organized, or me blogging and getting out to take photos and experience experiences to blog about?

Two truths and a lie

God knows why, but my son has taken to insisting I play this with him every day. I hate that game / ice- breaker, whatever it is meant to be. It seems I've been on the receiving end of 47 lies and one truth at the moment. Our helper started last week. I cannot be unfair and say it's an unmitigated disaster, but it's not good.

I had my meditation session this morning. I was press ganging myself into compassion towards her and self flagellation for my impatience and shortness. Facts of the matter, her Englsh is appalling - a fact I noted on the interview notes and my husband poo poo'd. She said she could cook and follow a recipe. She can't. Ditto use a dishwasher and washing machine. and the kids haven't taken to her at all.

I wrote down all the routines and schedules in detail. I'm now even wondering about her reading level.

And the man of the house, who had been patiently training her is on his silent retreat, and me the horrid bitch tai tai is not finding this nurturing role to my liking. Kids, yes, dog, yes (well she's the least bother and most disciplined), but helper no. This wasn't what I was looking for.

And I feel so bad. I should have listened to my instincts. but then id have had no helper at all. not easy in this household. And it's so bloody unfair here. She gets docked for the agency fee. Not that it's an issue, I'd reimburse her for that. But it's more the anticipation and dashed hopes of such a person.

What is plan B? keep her and send her on expensive training courses? Keep her and try and get a replacement like my ex-Helpers aunt? Keep looking? Give it time and compassion?

The worst. She's just what I don't want. She has this hang dog kicked dog demeanor. So she doesn't ask any questions. And then she fouls up and I get cross. I ask her to do something, she doesn't do it, doesn't know how but also doesn't tell she hasn't or doesn't know how. then it all comes out at the last and most inopportune moment. oh I feel like such a bad person! I never thought I'd be moaning on about Helpers. how low can you go?

Isn't it wonderful?

For a child who struggles to put thoughts on paper with pen, my son has a remarkably good turn of phrase when he's speaking.  This morning we took B (the dog) for a walk at the MacRitchie reservoir.  Her discipline and listening was sorely tested as we got out of the carpark and walked past a troop of monkeys, and one of them (I guess and adult male) came lunging at her in great aggression.  But she listened and just kept on walking, although my son was having puppies in panic.  The deal is that I keep the leash on public roads with cars, in car parks and until we get to a 'safe' area and he gives it back to me if there are any situations (horses, other large dogs, water she may want to jump into).  He's been pretty good with this so far.

We walked one way, but weren't allowed in the Nature reserve, so went towards the kayaking.  Where we saw a large group of red shirt clad elderly doing their dancing to music on the pier.  "Isn't it wonderful" says the little one "that there is a space like this in nature for the poor and elderly to enjoy their dancing and exercise? "

I agreed it was.  I'm glad he notices these things and also realizes his privilege and doesn't take it too much for granted.

The other day my husband and I went to the Whampoa wet market to have a look.  We walked past many hawkers stalls and saw all sorts of appetizing things.   We had to comment if you lived in the HDB flats nearby, or the elderly home, there'd be little reason to have a kitchen or do much shopping as you could probably pop down for your meals, and get a lot more besides, like a game of chess or go and companionship.

We were enticed by this stall which offered 2 veg, rice and 1 meat for S$2.50.  It tasted pretty good too.  They had other combinations as well and mineral water was an optional S$0.30.

Isn't it wonderful that there is the contrast.  The previous week we'd been to Jaan, where the waiter's X were stuck so far up their Y they could barely bear to speak to the patrons in normal English. But the food was pretty good and the view, well, interesting. I suppose it's pretty much as good as one can get as far as views are concerned in SG.  Not that a view of Suntec and the funny casino thing perched on top of two towers is what I consider to be a wonderful view! I recon that by the end of the meal and the expensive bottled water we were probably S$250 lighter.  Which is horses for courses as far as executive lunches are concerned.

the worms, I forgot the worms ...

In all the hoopla about the dog and the hamster and the fish I forgot the worms!  We are now also the proud container holders of 5kg of worms for our compost recycling.  There is a really nifty little start-up company here in SG who can help you on your way whether you live big or small or even want to do something at your school - and he even delivers on a Sunday.  AND is excellent with explanations to kids!

go forth and multiply

The boy had been promised a dog, as you may remember.  We were looking at a beautiful Golden Retriever, but alas, he'd been neglected for most of his 4 years and had not been trained.  The lady who was looking after him temporarily, wisely decided that he'd be better off with a family with more experience with dogs.  It was a blow to my son of course.  He wanted a dog, and he wanted it NOW.  Likewise, we decided against the dogs we saw at the SPCA, a lovely little Jack Russell - but prone to possessiveness (no good for play dates), and several very barky dogs with unknown parentage and behavioral traits.

Then I saw an ad for 2 labradors.  The owners were moving to a flat, here in SG dogs are very strictly controlled.  Landed properties are limited to 3 dogs.  If you're in a flat or condo, only 1 dog.  And if it's a HDB apartment, you're only allowed one of 62 breeds, all of which are small dogs.  Unfortunately, as many experts point out, small yappy, energetic,  aggressive dogs can be worse in communal living than large placid dogs.  But that's besides the point.  Still it's a lot better than Hong Kong where it seems that there are no restrictions whatsoever.

Following up on the ad, the owners and their little boy came around with the dog, and what a beauty.  The other had been adopted already, so it was just one, not two (more on that later).  She's 8 years old and the most obedient 8 year old this mum has ever managed to come across.  Obeys all commands first time round - a real eye opener for children in this household who shall remain nameless.  Oh, I'm not supposed to say owner, I think the PC term is now carer.  What a nice family.  They'd brought her up with positive reinforcement only and spent most of the afternoon going through her daily routine and how they'd trained her with us.

Listening to him I had to smile.  It was all you strive to do with children.  It was all about keeping positive. Not saying "no" not repeating yourself.  Not shouting, not getting angry.  It was about consistency and repetition and praise and lots of cuddles.  About very occasional treats, but your approval and happiness being the main prize.  And boy has it paid off big time for them with this dog (and us).  It's been especially interesting watching the kids in this.  Particularly my son, who wants to be the main dog contact point.

And it's been extremely cringeworthy for me.  Because how does he go about with the dog - well, tape recorder!!!  I hear him talking to her and trying to coax and cajole her just the way I go about things with him.  And boy oh boy, it's playback time.  And then you hear how you've slipped up along the way.  The repeating, the saying no, the commanding instead of encouraging, the instructions instead of praise.  All those hours of Suzuki, all those parenting books and courses and it takes a dog and a boy for a good look in the mirror.

Luckily one is never too old to learn, and kids and dogs are very forgiving and understanding.

In the period while we were thinking and looking for a dog, we bought my son some fish as a sort of consolation  prize.  His sister had got her replacement hamster from the SPCA, and she was being rather possessive about restricting his access.  He's a boy that needs cuddles - to give and to receive.  He was delighted with the fish.   But unfortunately my husband made a little mistake with connecting the aerator in the tank and the next morning we'd gone from 4 fish to 1 with the others little carcasses on the top of the filter.  Yuck.  That afternoon back to the fish shop, where very kindly the attendant gave him 3 new fish, explained to dad how to set it up properly and they just had to pay the price difference. Different fish, easier to take care of.  So imagine the delight the next morning when we discovered that the fat goldfish had in fact a whole lot of eggs in her, eggs which had hatched out 4 little baby fish by the next morning!  What joy in the household.

Back to the dog.  Unfortunately her younger brother was given back to the family, as the new adopters couldn't handle him properly.  Which I find strange if he's anything like our darling.  So we've said we'll see how things go with B (our dog) for the week, and research things and then consider taking in the brother as well.  I'm not sure if that's a good or bad idea.  A friend who was here for lunch yesterday day and has had years of Labrador experience said not such a good idea as they constantly fight to sort out the alpha issue, every year again...  anyone else have comments?

Of course my daughter is now jealous of the dog, particularly as my son is restricting access to her.  So she wants a second dog that can be hers.  He was told that the first month is really important for the bonding, so he needs to be the one feeding and grooming her.  So he hates any of us doing any of that.  Of course the dog is absolutely not stupid as to who is the boss around in the house, and if my husband is around she defers instantly to him... so I have my son telling dad, "no, stop, don't say anything to her, don't move.  Don't come near"  He is a lot more relaxed now, the first day he couldn't leave her side and wanted to be active with her all the time.  Now he's started learning she's just as happy just sitting next to him as he does his reading, and that she loves listening to his viola practice.   Early days!