At 4 months, adorable as you are, has begun to earn a fair share of spankings. Going through the rites of hair shaving and dressing up in the slightly undersized customary costume (a heirloom from Dadie) was no mean feat. I could only get a single clear shot of before you start brawling in your walker. Around this time I began to intensified my coaching of the single utterance "mumie". You started teething but contrary to all the horror stories of midnight crying fits other mothers used to tell me, I was barely aware of your little molars sprouting within your rosy cheeks. You could hold your own milk bottle and you faithfully stuck to your formula, progressing from Enfalac to Enfapro. You had ceased to regurgitate milk 7 times in between feeds and you enjoyed your Nestle rice powder gruel. You were such a Dadie's boy, capitalising on every chance you have to wrangle favours of all sorts from him. Young as you are, you knew Dadie never would have the heart to deny you of anything or blame you for any of your mischiefs. Mumie is much sterner stuff and definitely a lesser bundle of fun.
At 5 to 7 months you had almost outgrown your bathtub. Still, you were unable to stand for your showers. You were always drooling, and the front of your little shirt was always wet. You smelt so bad! But it was a scent I so dearly loved. Dadie would so often look at your pictures and exclaim:"I fear from my son's looks, he'll grow up to become a genius!" Very often then you would try to enunciate the word "Ma-gie", and your semi-toothless grins were priceless. Your choice of games and toys were exceptional, deriving most of your joys fiddling with my handphone, ignoring the host of rattles, musical instruments, balls and such. You had a morbid fear of soft toys and generally, anything with fur on it. I attempted to give you an early start in education, by introducing you to the alphabet chart which I put up against a low shelf, to make it accessible to you. The plan was duely thwarted within the day, when you insisted in plucking it off to wipe the floor with. You were so fond of chewing on your pacifier, I had to get you a new one every so often. I would have weaned you off if not for the protests of your ridiculously doting Ah-Mah.
You were truly more beautiful by the day. You were such a pleasure to watch and you brought joy to many. You became a familiar face within the neighbourhood which many look forward to see. From the auntie at the porridge stall, to the uncle at the bakery, you were such a sweetheart to all of them that Mumie would receive little treats and extras very often in her marketing. Mumie seldom brought you very far but you enjoyed all the "gai-gai" trips to the marketplace just a few blocks away from home. It was a chore maneuvering your bulky stroller along the narrow alley ways and it always hurt my back to carry you in the stroller up and down stairs. But still, it was so little to do for you.
From 8 months till your first birthday, it was a trying period of time. How could Mumie not be anxious when other babies had begun to take their 1st steps already? Mumie could only fend off those pressing questions of concern and feign an air of confidence that did not quite reach my heart. I read intensively on toddlers' intellectual and physical growth stages and was reaffirmed repeatedly that every child develop at a different pace. Still, it did little to curb the slight twinge that ran through Mumie's gut every time I saw another younger baby stood on two feet. I know I should have the ultimate faith in your eventual success, I should not doubt or hold reservations as to the abilities of my wonder boy. But in time to come, Mumie has learnt from other mummies, that trepidation and foreboding are natural extensions of a mother's love. Stories of infant mortality strike fear easily and many were the nights when I would place a hand over your heart to assure myself you were still with me. You are such a lavish gift to one as insignificant as me, I dread the day destiny might realises its mistake and undo this miracle.
Your first steps occurred between 9-10 months and by your 1st birthday, you owned your first pair of shoes, even though you were yet to be a proficient walking toddler. Following the tradition of most Chinese families, we conducted "Dor Zhei" for you. We placed a pen, a pair of scissors, a calculator and a fried chicken drumstick some 1 metre in front of you and fully anticipated you to make a beeline for the drumstick for you were such a little glutton then. To our surprise, you crawled at incredible speed and grabbed the pen instead. Ah Mah and Ah Goong were of course beside themselves with delight, as it signifies your future endeavours to be of the scholarly type. Coincidentally, Mumie picked the same item 25 years ago! No doubt you seem to have second thoughts and tried to grad a few more items as well, you allowed Mumie to capture a few shots of you holding on to the pen. It was truly priceless. Your 1st birthday bash was held at Hotel Redevous where many aunties and uncles took turns stuffing you with ice-cream and other delicacies. You certainly enjoyed being the centre of attention but the party lasted past your bedtime, and you were sleeping like a little log by the time we were home. You slept through your entire wipe down and nappy change!
Some 2-3 months after your birthday, after much encouragement and goading from Ah Mah and Ah Goong, one day at the void deck, after watching a younger baby girl totter past you, you suddenly decided you are ready for your first unsupported step. You told Ah Goong, through more mimickings than speech, to release you from the stroller, and bravely completed 3 brave unguided steps. Henceforth, you were always eager to show us your baby steps. I seldom saw you stumble, your earliest steps were smooth and sure. If was as if you had a late start to ensure that you would get it right the 1st time. I wanted very much then, to ask you if you were afriad to fall. Did you not believe that Mumie would always be there to catch you and wait for you? Or was it your way of telling Mumie you wish to be an independent little boy?You absolutely hated cutting your hair as a baby all the way till you were 3 years old. Hair cutting is a chore which Dadie and Mumie would put off till someone mistakes you for a little girl. We seldom bring you to the same hair-dresser twice as it was such an embarassment. You would refuse to sit in the chair or allow them to put a wrap around you. Their attempts to pacify you with candy never works and your wailings tend to make them nervous. Many of them usually politely request we bring you elsewhere on the next visits. Finally we found a hairdresser who was an expert with difficult toddlers and a good match for you. To your dismay, you realise your tantrums had little effect on her, neither could you wriggle your way out of her iron grip. Still, it was heartwrenching at times to hear you sobbing your little heart out in the hair-dressing chair. Very soon, you grew a little sharper. You would avoid taking the path that lead to the hair dressing salon altogether and would either run away or put up a colossal tug-of-war with Mumie. Dadie worked around this problem by buying a hair-dressing kit. To my surprise, you were only too willing to have your hair cut by Dadie. It caused you much discomfort as Dadie was not too handy with the shaver , and even though he did not injure you in any way, there were times you whimpered in pain. Your hair was rather badly cut on that occasion, with uneven patches. Still, when you look at yourself in the mirror, you pronounced yourself "handsome" and insisted you had "fun". Mumie mopped the floor several times for a good 2 hours and Dadie had not voluteered his hair-dressing services ever since.
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