Heads Underwater

It has been almost 3 months now, since the missus ventured south to the Victorious City. It has been a rough ride, for the daughter, who misses her mother greatly. I have done what I can to divert her, but there are times that I fail utterly. It is not in me to coddle my child, and my methods of teaching tend towards the draconian. The old ways have always worked, in my opinion when it comes to schoolwork, and my daughter has only helped to reinforce this.

But when it comes to physical activity, I am not so confident. Those who know me know that I am not, by any generous definition, a sporty person. So it was with some reluctance that I agreed to teach my daughter to swim.

I had tried this before, mind you. The sprog was happy enough to splash in the shallow pools, and to clamber on my back to 'ride the whale' as I did my laps. But she appeared to have an abject fear of getting water in her eyes and holding her breath underwater. So much so that I had largely given up on her swimming before she became an adult.

For some reason, the topic of swimming came up over the weekend, just before the National Celebrations. And I found myself promising to bring her down to splash in the water once again. She thoroughly enjoyed that, but went on to ask me to teach her again. I warned her that it was going to be frightening at times, and reminded her that my teaching methods usually involved a bit of trauma. But she persisted, so I agreed.

To my surprise, she was more receptive to what I told her, and actually put some effort into her kicking. It took me a good while before she was willing to try holding her own nose and looking underwater, goggles on, of course. Then she was doing it sans hands. That was some motivation, I have to admit. So I committed to teaching her more in the coming months. Soon, I hope, she will be able to pull herself along by dint of her own strength.

In the meanwhile, here was something that she could boast about to her mother, when the missus returns on Friday night.

Someone Like You

This song from Adele:

"Someone Like You"

I heard
That you're settled down
That you
Found a girl
And you're
Married now

I heard
That your dreams came true.
Guess she gave you things
I didn't give to you

Old friend
Why are you so shy?
Ain't like you to hold back
Or hide from the light

I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it.
I had hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
That for me it isn't over

Never mind
I'll find someone like you
I wish nothing but the best for you too
"Don't forget me," I begged
"I'll remember," you said
"Sometimes it lasts in love
But sometimes it hurts instead."
Sometimes it lasts in love
But sometimes it hurts instead,
Yeah.

You know how the time flies
Only yesterday
It was the time of our lives
We were born and raised
In a summer haze
Bound by the surprise
Of our glory days

I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it.
I had hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
That for me it isn't over.

Never mind
I'll find someone like you
I wish nothing but the best for you too
"Don't forget me," I begged
"I'll remember," you said
"Sometimes it lasts in love
But sometimes it hurts instead."

Nothing compares
No worries or cares
Regrets and mistakes
They are memories made.
Who would have known
How bittersweet this would taste?

Never mind
I'll find someone like you
I wish nothing but the best for you too
"Don't forget me," I begged
"I'll remember," you said
"Sometimes it lasts in love
But sometimes it hurts instead"

Never mind
I'll find someone like you
I wish nothing but the best for you too
"Don't forget me," I begged
"I'll remember," you said
"Sometimes it lasts in love
But sometimes it hurts instead"

Sometimes it lasts in love
But sometimes it hurts instead

Felt as if she ripped my heart out and left it bleeding on the ground.

Wow!

Mandarin Rampant

For many, the weekend is a time to recharge, to recover from the work week’s mental or physical drain. Some sleep in, ignoring the rigid cycles that define their work life. Others pack their schedules full. Most spend their Saturdays and Sundays with their families, forging deeper bonds. Yet others indulge in their passions and activities, which lift them up spiritually or psychologically.

For me, there is no choice in the matter. With the missus out of town for work, I have been left to take care of my daughter. The situation does not allow for much relaxing, sleeping, or any activity that does not involve bringing a seven-year-old along for the ride. And since her school teachers have indicated that her Mandarin is less than stellar, and wished to put her in a remedial class, I have had additional duties piled upon my plate.

Honestly, my wife’s Mandarin sucks. She is barely able to converse on a kindergarten/lower primary level. And she has difficulty reading even the Mandarin section of the daily free tabloid. I sometimes wonder how she managed to survive in China, Hong Kong and Taiwan, those years that she was outstation there.

It stands to reason, therefore, that I be assigned the task to teach my daughter the intricacies of Mandarin. Unfortunately, I know only the methods by which I myself had been taught. By ‘unfortunately’, I mean unfortunately for my daughter:

It was a harsher time when I was a student. The teachers do not mollycoddle their pupils as they do these days. Punishments were swift and merciless. My knuckles were not permanently damaged, and I can still sit on my arse, so I suppose it can be survived. So I am going back to these ‘tried & true’ methods – writing, recitation, repetition. And a swift whack when her attention wavers.

The results have been promising so far: she received 42/50 for the first ‘Ting Xie’ and full marks for the second. Now all I have to do is to keep her sufficiently motivated. All the praises heaped upon her by both her grandmothers help.

As does the promise of a new tech-toy. Like me, the daughter’s a gadget freak : )

Swift and Pink

The missus had something to say about my driving playlist recently. I had purchased Taylor Swift's Fearless and Speak Now CDs, as well as Pink's greatest hits. And I've been cycling through these three for days on end. Apparently, my wife wonders at my sudden change, from what used to be a predominantly gothic & symphonic rock playlist.

Quite honestly, I don't really know how this came to be. Pink's lyrics are biting and harsh, despite her catchy melodies. Taylor Swift's music seem saccharine sweet, but there are some songs that hide a dark side, a bitter pill that lurks among the innocent-looking lyrics. White Horse, in particular, is a tale of betrayal. Not quite the sort of song that one expects from the one who sang Love Story.

I think I'll throw Avril Lavigne into the mix next. Black Star ...

School Daze Again

Well, it has been six months since I last worried about the sprog's progress in school. I suppose it is appropriate, given my work, to do a mid-year review. So here it is:

1. She is not the shortest in her class. (she missed that honour by a hair.)

2. She is rather good at math, although she does not check her answers and therefore loses points in careless mistakes.

3. Her mandarin is passable, though the teacher had mentioned on two or more occasions that her spoken mother-tongue has a rather western twang to it, if and when she deigns to use the language in conversation. My fault, I suppose. I really must make her watch more local chinese dramas.

4. Her english is ... This one is hard to judge. She speaks well and fluently, and her ability to answer questions is undisputed. However, she is very lazy when it comes to those open-ended questions. Her answers are usually too short and lacks completeness to score the full marks. Offhand, I'd say that she is just too lazy to copy out the 'whole' answer. Oh, well.

5. She still persists in eating far too little. I have attempted to rectify this by tempting her with scrumptious chocolate cake and delicious bak kwa, along with other goodies. However, with such matters, a longer period of assessment shall be necessary. I shall need to keep track of this.

6. The teachers have agreed that my daughter is a very helpful person, who likes to assist the teachers and her fellow students. Apparently, she regularly helps to move the chairs and tables around when needed, volunteers to collect papers for handing up to the teachers, and other such duties. She has also confessed that she was rather disappointed at being passed over for the class monitress job - due to her lack of inches, which prevents her from cleaning the top of the whiteboard. (I promptly exploited this to coax her to eat more and grow taller).

7. More astonishing is the fact that she has declared that her goal is to become a prefect! Goodness gracious! Where did she get this from? The missus and I have both avoided public office our whole lives! Is this a way of the Fates getting back at us? Sigh.

Apart from this, the little girl has persisted in her love of the colour green, boy cartoons like Ben Ten and Generator Rex, and a preference for jeans over dresses. However, just this saturday past, she suddenly cosied up to me and asked for a Hello Kitty hairband. Ah yes! The princess syndrome finally kicks in!

Heh heh heh.

December Will Be Magic Again

I travelled North this morning, just as the sun rose over the City. It was a mission that no one else desired, to tell the truth. But someone needed to represent the interests of my Order at the Confluence of the Rivers, so I had be chosen. Of course, the true work does not begin until tomorrow morning, and I have had the larger part of the day to prepare myself, and to visit the sights, such as they were.

The journey itself was pleasant enough, and a part of me wished to see the Muddy River Valley again. The last time I had visited that place was shortly before I was we'd, and I was curious to see how much it had changed.

Well, the changes were many. Indeed, it now greatly resembles the City that I call home.yet, there were differences aplenty; enough to make me miss the land of my birth. And my family.

Graduation

My daughter has graduated from Kindergarden 2. A small step, perhaps, in the whole of her scholastic life, but the first one. To be sure, I felt a deep sense of pride when I saw her up on stage that night of the 25th. Of course, in her usual close-lipped manner, she gave my missus and I no warning that she would be the first to walk across the boards that night. And so left the pair of us scrambling to get our cameras out. Sigh. Well, the footage is short, but at least we have it.

There was a concert following the ceremony, and both the daughter's grandmothers were in attendance. She seemed to enjoy herself, doing the dance thing, and I suppose that was the most important. The missus and I recorded both her numbers (two cameras, independent filming, slightly different angles) and ordered officail DVD as well. Hmmm. That was what we did for her K1 concert too, I recall. Not that I saw much of the official version - the daughter didn't have enough close-up screen time, in my biased opinion.

But now that the deed is done, I find myself worrying about other matters, as most parents do. Primary school is very different from Kindergarden, and I am fraught, wondering if she can adapt. She is small for her age, and there is the constant worry that she will be picked on by bigger girls. At least, there are no boys in a convent school. But after a conversation with a friend of mine yesterday, that leads to another set of possibilities in my mind .... Sigh.

I guess we'll just have to wait and see.