Dear Aidan,
 |
| Merry Christmas, Ma |
It's December! December is Mama's favourite month because December means Christmas. Even for a Muslim-dominated country like Malaysia, December always finds shops and shopping malls decked up in the prettiest Christmas trimmings. The loveliest hymns and solemnities also take place in Church this season. We've already taken you gift-hunting with Grandpa, Grandma Uncle Brian and Aunty Angeline. But knowing Mama, there'll be at least one or two more trips before we manage to get everybody's presents.
 |
| The floor's inviting me to walk, Ma |
This month, Mama started you on steamed cod fish and chicken. You seem fine as a pheasant when they're mixed into your rice cereal. But 'mild protestations' would be an understatement to describe your reaction to these 'meats' being directly spoon-fed into your mouth. (We really need to work on that banshee shriek of yours.) Maybe it's the taste. Maybe it's the texture. Maybe it's both. But don't hate me if I keep cooking that stuff for you to try. Protein's the engine for colossal feats requiring muscle mass. You know, climbing and getting up to general mischief?
 |
| You wouldn't be Santa would you? |
Meanwhile, you're on a near milk strike again. Water's a no-fly zone save for a few sips. And broccoli and carrots aren't as welcome inside your mouth as they used to be. Bananas, apples and pears are still good to go, though. And you're always eyeing Papa and Mama's rice.
It's great that you're showing interest in adult food. It's not so great that you can be discerning this tiny. Is it possible for a 10-month-old to be fussy? Does a cat meow?
You're eager to try walking now and will smile at anyone who'll help you to your feet. This means Kung-kung's usually the willing victim. Being able to latch yourself onto helpful furniture makes you happy, too. It's early, son, but we understand your impatience. Plus action isn't action till it makes you sweaty, right? I suppose it was only a matter of time before we officially embarked on Suicide Watch.
 |
Let's go to Disneyland
Putting up the tree this year turned out to be a bit of an anti-climatic event. Mama was clearly delusional thinking you'd be as excited as I'd be. The whole affair meant nothing to you beyond a lick-and-taste opportunity. So yes, you much preferred tasting the baubles and eating glitter to passing them on to us to hang on the tree.
|
Word-wise, we were surprised to hear you say 'bee'. At least that's what it sounded like to us. Maybe you were just grunting. For books, we started reading
Mel and Croc together. You're still too little to sit through an entire story but you like the pictures and Mama's making it easier by simplifying the tale.
 |
| A...for abysmally void of reality? |
 |
| Er, tinge of raspberry with a grimy, metallic aftertaste |
 |
| Em, crusty, crunchy...crappy |
Story telling time now brings you an additional Sandra Boynton classic, The Barnyard Dance. When Mama and Papa act out the rhyme, you look more bewildered than bedazzled. We must seriously look into our entertaining talents.
 |
| This one's where Papa and Mama go nuts |
