Need a camera

Last weekend Fab and I played tag-team parenting. Basically we both took turns having 2 hour naps and playing with Sophie. We both have been busy at work and desperately needed some shut-eye.

Maybe Daddies are good for something after all.

Even though he lets our daugter play with water on the balcony with no hat, no sunscreen and no clothes, but wearing the biggest ever mega-watt grin.

We really need to get a camera. I need to record these precious moments if not they go by simply far too quickly. My tiny little raisin has turned into a 10 kg toddler. How the hell did that happen?

I see a green sea turtle

Mum look at the turtle!
Originally uploaded by vacheorange

Being a diver and a hippie chick mama, I bought Panda Bear Panda Bear What do you see for Sophie.

It's never to early...

Resistance is Futile

I had a breakfast seminar this morning not far from Fabien's office, so I dropped in to have coffee with him. We passed by Rouge Baiser and I could...not...resist... delicate hand sewn linen trousers for Sophie. The website does not do justice to their stuff. They use pure gazillion-thread-count cotton with delicate chic little motif embriodery. But for my husband's restraining gaze I would have bought the shop.

Parenthood has awakened the hitherto dormant shopping beast.

In other news.

Does anyone want to help post Sophie a pair of shoes? I cannot find her good shoes here. Which is ironic because they seem to be all made in China. But those available for the local market seem to be very heavy and not ideal for first-walkers. We'd love a pair of pediped and I will trade you some Rouge Baiser clothes for them!

Not all bad

Yesterday I was depressed with sick kid and sick husband. But there are always little silver linings as long as you look for them.

I love my job I love my boss. I worked from home for part of today, and by 4pm, Sophie seemed well and active enough for me to take her to a Kindermusik trial class.

I cannot stop raving about Karen's music class. Small class size, short class, and (most importantly) a wonderfully enthusiastic teacher who does does ASL signing together with the class as well...

Sophie (and mummy!) loved it so much that we signed up for all the once a week classes in the summer. The only problem is to figure out who to take her to class. The whole class is conducted in English, and I think the aiyi is going to have a problem.

Does that mean I have to hire someone else to take her to class?!!

Augh

Disease and Pestilence have made their way into our household.

Fabien brought back some sniffles, headache and the runs. In the incubation time that he has been happily spending time with her, GUESS how long it took for him to infect our lovely daughter?

Of course, this has to happen in a week when I am busy at work and have to work from home to care for my sick husband and sick kid.

Faster than an electronic affidavit, Stronger than a stupid ol' virus, it's a bird, it's a plane, it's Super Mummy !!!

Who are you anyway?

Most of my Singaporean friends will have experience some variation of this kind of conversation . My American friends Gina and Shilpa probably get some permutation of it.

The views of the lovely Taiwanese transplant in Melbourne strike a chord with me somehow, even though she's talking of entirely different places. It's more the feeling that gets me.

What I really wonder is what the HECK Sophie will say when people ask about the identity of our Franco-Singaporean daughter, born in Moncalieri and raised (thus far!) in Turin and Beijing. Her little friend Julius will be able to give her a bunch of pointers. Actually Sophie will also be able to have this discussion with Cat and her mum Fioleta .

She's in good company though. I hired a lovely Canadian Chinese girl (here for Summer) to come play with her twice a week, sing song in English (albeit Canadian English - but who's cares?), sign and do a bit of baby gym. And tommorrow morning I will interview a Tahitian girl who will come to speak to Sophie in French with a New Caledonian accent. We'll see how that one goes, but so far so good.

The 3 strings story

I was a little hurt some time ago when one of my friends told me (quite honestly!) that she doesn't want to read this blog because she's gets jealous of my "perfect" life with husband, job and baby. I was hurt because it seemed a little like rejection, and then I reflected a little, and in her honour I dedicate this post.

I blog for a variety of reasons - getting to know people, allowing them to see into our lives, keeping up with old friends, and as a kind of record for myself for all of life's beautiful gifts. Which doesn't mean that crap doesn't happen. Of course it does. But I just see no point in blogging about it. Sure, that's one dimensional, and there is a great deal of things that bug me which fretting about won't help. Like the times when Fab and I miss each other so much that when he phones we get into a fight because of his crazy job. Ilike the thoughts I have of my grandfather dying of cancer in Singapore. And of course the general stress I feel about leaving my only child at home to the care of people who are (in effect) total strangers.

There is a this urban legend about Itzhak Perlman playing a concerto after snapping a string in his violin. Even if the story isn't true, it still appeals to the sentimental streak in all of us. Which is what I want to remember in the midst of any negativity which we have in our lives. Speak to me inner earth goddess!!

Help Wanted

People have been responding to the job ad I placed online.

I am running interviews this weekend, but some of the candidates look very promising, so I am looking forward to it, and I hope Sophie is too.

I cannot believe I have descended to the level where I am going to pay people to play with my daughter, but I console myself that it is a temporary situation untill she goes to school.

and sometimes it is the little things

I begin to realise that it is not always the grand gestures and the big presents that touch me. Sometimes it really is the little things that I love. And also that learning to let go and forgive can sometimes be alot easier in theory. That sometimes forever is not really a measurement of time but a state of mind.



On this day 2 years ago, at a quiet little church in northern france, we got married (again!). And time has just slipped away like bubbles on a gentle breeze - can you spot those bubbles in the photo? Why did you get married? What are you looking for in your (potential) lifetime partner?

For me, marriage is a public acknowledgement of a private emotion. And each time we celebrate our wedding anniversary, we celebrate the fact that we still love each other, even when we (occasionally!) want to wring the neck of our spouse.

How fast time flies

One thing I like about living at a temperate lattitude is that the seasons remind you that time marches steadily forward. The other thing is that photos don't lie even if your memory fades.

This photo above is the view from the window outside Sophie's room when there was a freak snow-storm in March. Just when you think it is safe to start wearing spring clothes...

And this great view (one of my favourite non-Sophie pictures taken in this house) is from our balcony in May.


And in case you thought this would be a Sophie-free post this is the infanta one year ago on this day...


I really should take more photos but our digital camera has given up the ghost. So I am just doing some reasearch into which replacement camera I should get.

Does anyone have some recommendations?

Going to be a good weekend

Fabien comes back home tonight! I am actually quite excited about it. I sometimes think that with him being away for so long, it gives us both a chance to miss each other. And yet carry on with our own lives.

Missing somebody doesn't really mean that you stay at home and mope. I think there is an element of that, but an incredibly private one. My guilty pleasure is reading Joan Didion "The Year of Magical Thinking".

For the most part, we live life without each other, and I think for us, that is a groovy kind of love. Because you are not dependant on somebody, you know you both don't NEED each other, but you have freely chosen to be together. For me that's an important element to say you are in love.

I'll leave you with a phone exerpt from one of our more private conversations:

"how can you be sure of anything for the rest of your life?"

"I am sure of what I promised, and I promised to love you for the rest of my life. Even on some days when I want to kill you."

"that is so sweeet"

"shut up"