Dim Sum Mum - Tess' Little Pieces

III - all creatures great and small

after a few days, it was time to name kitten. she still wasn't coming to us, but we heard her prowling around at night. i was concerned...she was feral...would she, could she ever love us? the morning i woke up and found a dead cockroach and its entrails on the sofa (which is definitely off the beaten track for a cockroach), i knew she was fond of us. she was a quick learner, the litter pan was being used by both cats.

had we used up our genius naming abilities with dark and mysterious olivia? we hoped not. kitten would do for now.

what wouldn't do, was the ROI we were getting. charles was at work each day and i was still unemployed. everyone else i knew was employed. i wandered around exploring the city each morning, dropping off resumes, but then would come home. i was hearing the same thing, "no one is hiring right before the handover. wait and see." i couldn't do temp work because i didn't have a work visa. at home, after washing the dishes and making the bed, there wasn't much to do.

the televisions two english speaking channels were laughable, i had read every thing i wanted to from charles' book shelf, the flat was spotless....i wanted entertainment. and company. cats hiding under the bed and computer were not going to cut the mustard.

olivia, from her spot under the bed was tough to grab, but kitten wasn't, if you approached her from behind. but i could sit on the floor and talk with kitten. and so i did. hour after hour, day after day. or i would read the paper (1.50canadian, a daily luxury i afforded myself) sitting on the chair looking up at her. and after three days or so, kitten responded to my dialogue with a mew. two days later, olivia emerged from under the bed DURING DAYLIGHT HOURS. she and kitten had a detente, there was never any fighting between them. slowly slowly it was all coming together.

our families, began getting letters from us. my mum recalls being so excited to see photos...and then disappointed that they were only of a cat and a kitten. ONLY? what on earth did she mean? charles and i forked over precious dollars to call home, and spent the entire conversation trying to coax olivia out from under the bed so she would meow, and coaxing a little mew out of kitten. they tried telling us nicely WE DON"T CARE ABOUT THE ANIMALS ... WE CARE ABOUT YOU...but we couldn't believe they possibly meant it. not care about the cats!!!

kitten was being tamed with a rapidity that stunned me. olivia never became a mother figure to her, but they got along very well, and soon were both sleeping on our bed. she was just so grateful for every single thing we did for her.

in chinese, thank you is translated into xia xia. (shia shia). charles and i had met over capilano college's intranet system. (cc). xia xia, CC. cee-cee she became.

we lived through fleas, conjucitivitis, nail clipping, all those fun things. and olivia was charles' girl. she would jump on the bed, knead his chest, and collapse on top of him, or the paper he was trying to read. she loved his lap. she didn't ignore me, but it is as if she knew he had given her that second chance. olivia loved the taste of ben gay or other muscle rubs, of garlic, salad dressings and would lick the stuff off charles' back when his old injury started to bother him.

and xia xia was my cat. i held her tail when she was washing herself so ensure that she got a good grip, i would follow her down the hallway so she could get a drink of water from the tap, we had a spoon sleeping arrangement that worked for us. i slept on my side and she would curl behind my knees, or by my tummy. she didn't drink using her tongue, she would get her paw wet and then lick off her paw. she spent a lot of time drinking. she would run to the door when she heard my voice outside it, she would respond to my monologues about when we would ever get pregnant with a series of small meows.

but she always retained a slightly wild side. she climbed up curtains, at times she had a shrill throaty meow, and she hated visitors. hated them. when the doorbell rang or a knock would sound, she would race to the bedroom and burrow under the duvet, eyes wild until the bad people had gone. if our bedroom door was shut, she would slide into closets, and i would see sharp scared eyes glinting back at me hours later, when i went to find her. she could be lured out of hiding with tuna juice, most of the time.

if it was a delivery man at the door, or a repair worker, she would get petrified. during those times, i would lie on the bed, stroking the lump on the duvet, telling her how much she was loved, how safe she was.

after four years (and roughly $50,000US in drs fees and medicines), we got pregnant with sebastian. no change in our relationship with the cats, we didn't flinch when we found olivia asleep in the crib charles had so lovingly prepared, she thought it was a cat sized bed placed tantalisingly in the sunshine for her benefit, i'm sure. of course we're going to keep them when people asked if the cats would stay or go. it wasn't even an issue.

the night i went into labour, cee cee stayed with me all night long. i didn't even know i was in labour, but cee cee did. i went into the bathroom, let cee drink from the tap, and after she drank, she jumped out of the tub and came and sat at my foot. she followed me from room to room, sat beside me as i tried to finish the story i had due that day, sat beside the computer monitor as i msn'ed with my sister, who declared, WHAT ARE YOU DOING UP? ARE YOU IN LABOUR? YOU ARE IN LABOUR!

it was cee cee that my brother and i tried to get to smell my underpants. i didn't know if my water had broken or if i had weed myself. i asked my brother to smell my underpants and he refused. but he suggested that cee cee smell them, since cats hate the smell of urine. she gave them one sniff then walked back over to me.

it was cee cee who stayed in the kitchen with me while i made sandwiches, and who trotted from room to room while i tried to wake up charles and pack the last minute items. after i informed charles that there was NOT time to go to the office to get his camera and that we were going to the hospital NOW, it was cee cee i picked up and cuddled one last time.

and then everything changed with the arrival of sebastian.

but my love for cee cee didn't. if anything, it was enhanced. this little cat didn't want anything from me except for love. she wasn't making my breasts sore and cracked and painful. no, she was purring with her mouth slightly open in that way she had, luring me to bed to get some rest. she was chewing my hair as she slept at the nape of my neck, or by my tummy. i would give her tummy, gently stroking the spotted stomach, until my tired hands fell still.

she taught me a lesson. all she wanted was to love me. and while i hadn't a clue if i could do this mothering gig, i knew i could love my cat. i knew that what i would always remember about this cat is how much she loved me. and i realised, that is what i wanted my child to remember about me. i could do this mothering bit...i did love my bald delightful baby, and for now, in those early days, that was enough.

tomorrow i promise will be the last cat dedicated post for a while.

part 2

the day after we brought the kitten home, we trudged back to the rspca on hong kong side for "olive's" second interview. we left kitten where we left her, and put a litter box and sand on our shopping list.

this wasn't an ordinary day, this was the day that TWO incidents occurred that made me realise not only that i was going to marry the man they call magnificent, but that i really really wanted to.

olive was sitting in her cage pretty much looking the same as we had left her. dark and mysterious all right. her age, unknown, but the kid who worked there figured that she was in between 3-5 years old.

beau charles dropped down to chat with her, and olive gave a mew. we had been very careful to look not only at the cats featured at eye level, but at the lower rows of cages. who knows where our cat would be?

remember a few weeks ago i posted about crack goes my heart? and a few paragraphs above i posted about the two incidents that made me realise i would marry charles? here's the first.

beau charles turned to me, his face all passionate and earnest and said, "tess, i know we wanted to adopt two kittens, but you know what? everyone wants to adopt a kitten. i want to give this cat a second chance, a chance for a great life."  crack.

he asked the kid to let olive out of her cage, and once he picked her up, she lay her head on his shoulder and made, as my love decribed it, "a little goat sound". done deal.

we shelled out more money that we didn't have for olive's various ailments and processing fees, made a donation to the rspca, and then left. while the kitten had been quiet, this cat shrieked the entire way home. she shrieked in the lobby, in the lift, and in particular, when we opened the cat door and introduced her to her new home. she took one look at our 480 square foot flat of paradise, and zoomed underneath the bed, where she remained for the next four days.

beau charles and i went out to get the litter and box. it was heavy to carry back. i remember that. i remember it was a hot july day, and our arms were heavy and we were so happy with our babies. except one thing was niggling me about this olive....what was it....ah yes.

"charles, about your cat."

"our cat. yes?"

"there is a problem with her name."

"you understand that i'm not following you."

"i can't call her olive."

"i know. she isn't an olive, is she. dark and mysterious isn't olive. olive is something you eat on your pizza and i can barely tolerate. i'm glad i didn't let my distaste of olives stand in the way of choosing what is, you will agree, the perfect cat."

hard to say, what with her being under the bed and all, but whatever.

we decided it was too confusing for olive to have a new house and a new name. yet olive did not do this cat justice. what to do, what to do....bingo.

"charles, i know what we will do."

"one of the reasons i love you!"

"her name is olivia."

"olivia. regal, gracious, perfect."

and it did suit her. still does, actually.

back home in our flat, charles set up the litter pan and i took the cat toys we hadn't been able NOT to buy out of their cellophane packaging. the newly christened olivia had no interest in the litter pan, and we weren't too worried about her having accidents, but this little terror, who last night had rustled around the flat and had weed on the floor.

and then the second incident occured. my sweet charles took the little trembling kitten from her perch atop the hard drive, and carried her to the litter pan. he gently reached for her paw and stroked it through the litter, repeating the process several times.

crack went my heart. if he was so gentle and compassionate with animals, what would he be like with our children? and suddenly for the first time in my life, i wanted to know.

olivia had a new name and a new lease on life, and i knew i one day wanted the name mummy, and to bring life into this world.

all things bright and beautiful

let's go to yellowknife.

first, put on your mittens, second pair of WARM socks, sorel boots, parkas, and scarves. for yellowknife is usually COLD.

don't worry, i'll wait.

okay, so here we are, in yellowknife. but 2005 doesn't suit our needs, we need to go back to 1980. sebastian made a spaceship the other day in the playroom that can double nicely as a timetravelling machine, in you go.

so here we are in 1980. we're in the basement of our church, although you are wise to keep your coats on. see over there in the corner? the girl with the dorothy hamill haircut and the pinstripe jeans? teeth suggesting a retainer will be worn in a few years? what else is noteworthy about this girl? oh, she's yelling in church!

i don't believe you! she's red faced, yes, angry indeed. but why?

hang on, i'm sure we'll find out.

animals DO go to heaven! they have to! i don't care if they don't have souls...they DO go to heaven!

your teeth are chattering, let's leave yellowknife and the cold.

i remember that sunday very well. i was eventually asked to leave the sunday school class and wait for my mother by the stairs because i wouldn't drop the topic of animals whereabouts in heaven.

i still believe, that animals will be in heaven.

not a lot of Biblical backup on this one, and quite a few naysayers. animals don't have souls, it has only been in the last 200 years that animals were loved. previously, they were food or workers. or they were being worshipped, and God wouldn't want any of that going on in heaven anyway. of course, does that mean every animal is in heaven, or just loved pets? is that fair to the fruit fly? who knows, definitely not me.

and truly, i do believe that when we get to heaven IT WONT MATTER if the animals are there.i know this, but i still believe they will be there. i do i do i do.

why?

1. God knows our love for our pets

2. a pet can love with a purity that God encourages

3. we often love our pets in an unconditional way, a better way, than we love our friends

there are lots of other reasons, but they are mainly emotional. these are my reasons. i suppose a theologian could come and bash me to pieces, but at the end of the day, they either will be in heaven, or they won't.

and i think they will.

i have always been a bit of a cat whisperer, and when charles and i moved to hong kong, we adopted two cats. there were two rscpas in the city, and charles and i visited both of them, in order to make sure that we didn't miss out on the cats we were meant to have. we would have loved to have a dog, but didn't feel we had the space. dogs need space and we had 480 square feet of living space.

we visited the first spca, conveniently located on hong kong island, not too far from us. we looked at some, but only one caught our eye. charles' really. she was a dark tabby (i do like tabbies) named olive. i didn't like the name, but charles was really impressed with the cat. she's dark and mysterious, he pronounced. we had seen ourselves adopting feral kittens, so the concept of adopting at least three year old olive was a stretch. we didn't commit ourselves, instead the next day we headed over to the kowloon island rspca. a ferry ride and bus ride and taxi ride away.

we walked into the rspca, and passed through the area where the dogs were, and shuddered at the smells and the dogs obvious despair. i hate visiting animal shelters because of the despair and the knowledge that these animals don't have long in this world. the smell is tough too, antiseptic not covering up the smell of waste and food.

into the cattery we walked. and there were several cats there who grabbed our attentions, but we were drawn to a cage filled with kittens. one kitten in particular. also a tabby, with a spotted stomach, which is a prerequisite for me. the wee thing was batting at sibling's tails until it got tired, and then went and laid down. when we leaned down to look at the cage, it backed up and hid in the corner.

all kittens are adorable, but i had no interest in any of the kittens except for this one. i asked to hold it (the second interview, as my hr inclined beau called it).  it was a girl. placed in my hands the kitten stayed there for half a beat, and just as i was bringing her in for a cuddle, jumped five feet to the floor and tried to squirm between cages.

that's the kitten i want. i informed beau charles.

offer her the job right now, then, he responded, because we don't want to come back here. and i want to go back and have a follow up interview with the other cat.

we paid for the cat and the flea shampoo (we weren't sure if the employees were saying this kitten had fleas or not) and a few toys. then we placed the kitten in a box and took it into the sunshine. even though we were poor, we decided the kitten had had enough excitement...we would take a taxi all the way home.

the kitten had an interesting background, she and her siblings were found in a box at one of hong kong's neatest temples. she had personality, this cat.

as we approached pu nam do (bonham road) we remembered that cats were not allowed in our building, and before smuggling the kitten into the lobby and lift, we cautioned it, shhhh...be quiet! she didn't say a word.

and upon arriving at our flat, she ran under the desk and stayed there for three days, perched on top of the hard drive, which was nice and warm.

more tomorrow.

how sweet the sound

i have occasionally referred to my almost 91 year old gran...who came to visit us in the okanagan valley this past summer, who is using crest whitening strips, who loves jasper and his bright blue eyes.

but there was another gran..my dad's mum. florence. grandma. who also lived a long life.

when i lived in vancouver in 1996/97, i maybe visited grandma, who was in a long term care residence there four times. i was working like a dog, didn't have a car, all sorts of excuses. but i did see her after the spring semester had started, and confessed that i had met someone different. she was sleeping, but it felt good to tell someone about this overwhelming, wonderful new love, yes, that wasn't too strong a word for it. i thought i loved someone i had never met. was that possible. even worse, he was married.

by the time i was getting married, grandma was blind in both eyes, and the one time i visited her in 1998, she didn't have much memory of who i was. but for the few minutes she was awake, she was so pleasant to me, even though she didn't know me. as with so many older people, her memory of her childhood was precise and crisp, so she started to tell me a story about her days in rossland.

i made a final trip back to vancouver in the spring before my wedding, and went to visit grandma with pam and mum. she seemed to be asleep.

we were holding her hands and telling her about our lives, pam married, me about to be married, when all of a sudden, remembering grandma's excellent long term memory and her lifelong involvement in the salvation army, i told pam and mum that we were going to sing a song. and i launched into

amazing grace, how sweet the sound

that saved a wretch like me!

i once was lost, but now i'm found

was blind, but now i see

and we were stumbling into the second verse, when grandmas lips began moving, and her voice, which i hadn't heard for years, singing that declaring verse,

through many dangers, toils and fears

we have already come

she remembered it. she could hear us! she could respond!

pam and i had tears pouring down our faces, while mum, who probably has the best voice of us all, kept soldiering on with grandma...

and from there, we sang holy holy holy, onward Christian soldiers (grandma knew the words to that one better than we did), praise God from whom all blessings flow, and as many old-time hymns that we could recall. and our tears continued as grandma sang them all. who knows what she was thinking, if in her mind she was trussed up in her cape and hat and suit, convincing sinners, won't you come? or if her mind was simply recalling words from her salad days.

but they were words that had given her hope and joy over the years. those were the words coming from her mouth, not despair!

with our goodbye, we sang again amazing grace. as the final verse started, we wiped our wet, black rivered of mascara faces and finished

when we've been there ten thousand years

bright shining as the sun!

we've no less days, to sing God's praise

then when we first begun

we had had our miracle. we kissed grandma, we left. a few months later, my beautiful wedding bouquet, the centrepieces, were sent to my gran's room. my bouquet was filled with ivy, strands of blackberries, freesia, lilies, pansies and smelt glorious.

she died the next year.

i miss grandma sometimes, her unique outlook and her appreciation of the small things. grandma has been on my mind lately, as i recently read somewhere that in an effort to heighten your appreciation of something you have been among for years, talk about it as if you were describing it to a blind person. so i do. even if i am just walking along alone in the outdoors that grandma loved so much.

i have experienced so many miracles. but this day in 1999 was the first time i can remember watching one up close. and with all miracles, you can try to explain it away, but instead, you eventually just have to realise you have been given a gift. and accept it.   

bathed in love

yesterday afternoon right before we headed down to the playground with "team caldwell", magnificent touched my arm and said, "i will make you a bath tonight."

this isn't a heavily coded language. it is his love language. magnificent loves ambience and loves creating a romantic bath. he also knows that i love baths, but for a variety of reasons, i am a shower woman.

the reasons?

1) i hate the feel our bathtub's chippy paint leaves on my bottom. my modus operandi when bathing is to begin with shampooing my hair, then dry my hands on a conveniently nearby towel, leave in a conditioner while reading a glossy mag, and only when the bathwater gets uncomfortably cool, reluctantly drain the tub while shave legs and pits, and then have a refreshing coolish shower as a final rinse.

2) baths take a long time to clean up from

3) our bathtub is too small. i like full immersion baths and hate having bent cold knees sticking out of the tub. i like all over warm.

charles knows all this, knows i have had maybe five baths in the four years we have been in our flat, yet he planned around my persnicketiness. he kept the door shut while running the bath, so that steam filled the small room. he lit candles and placed a small table he had dragged to the edge of the tub so i could dry my hands and place my magazine on the edge when it came time to rinse off. he called me in and promised he would clean up everything, handed me O magazine and waltzed off, claiming he was sweating to death and needed cold air.

what was he talking about? this was perfect? i added some ginger bath bubble.

the water was very hot. i actually read the letters to the editor while standing, to get used to the heat. finally finally, i lowered myself in, did a quick shampoo, rinsed, conditioned, (also did a quick face scrub), then dried off my hands and drank a large glass of cold cold water that mc had also thoughtfully provided, picked up the magazine and read.

vanity fair has been my favourite magazine for a long time, but o is moving right up there. i read every single article, except for the occasional fashion piece. and dr phil, who i sometimes find avoids the question.

one of the articles focused on five women who either stayed with and rejuvenated relationships or got out of them. as magnificent and i approach seven years of marriage, i do admit to wondering if he is getting the seven year itch. i don't think i am ... with the end of infertility i like to think i got rid of those unhappy feelings. it's hard when your husband works so much to wonder what is distraction caused by work, obligations, family, church, friends and world events, and what is distraction caused by overlooking.

i don't think he is going through the seven year itch. i think he is busy. but i know he is magnificent.

the articles continued and i kept reading until i had to face the inevitable uncomfortable truth, the water was a mere lukewarm. and what's this..ah yes, a hair on my arm was standing up, protesting the cold. my knees, which had been so contented above the water enjoying the heated sauna like air, were also complaining.

clunk went the magazine

tzing went the shower curtain

galump went the bath plug, as i tugged the chain with my toes and removed the seal

a semi cold brisk shower, and TUBGATE2005 was over.

i climbed out and in very un-tess like behaviour, cleaned up from my tub. it took magnificent 45 minutes to create TUBGATE, and me 10 minutes to clear up from it.

then i went outside, and found my husband snoozing. i thanked him and he mumbled, "okay", and that was that. i then ate dinner, and went to sleep, all awash with love.

rainy days and sundays

today the rain started pouring just as we were leaving the flat to catch the taxi that would take us to church.

mila and i cordoned off the triumverate underneath the carpark while sebastian and charles soaked themselves trying to flag us a taxi. after a few wet minutes, they hailed the taxi, jumped in and came back to the car park to pick us all up. mila sat up front with the driver, charles held jasper, i sat in the middle with one girl in each arm, and sebastian sat beside me. traffic was bad, and the run off from the umbrellas was dripping on to my much loved shell encrusted beige sandals, but we got to church in plenty of time.

mila took an umbrella and jasper, and ran up the 20 or so steps that lead to the entrance to the church, and then across the courtyard into the blessed building. i could have waited for charles, but decided to go for it. sporting my look of one girl per arm, i dashed up the steps, noting that my sandals were submerged in water, and as luck would have it, dale arrived with an umbrella. he had seen mila arrive, figured there would be more babies arriving, and came down to help out.

soon the triplets were in the creche along with denby's twins (no, it's not a multiples only creche, it just seemed like it), and charles, sebastian and i were saying hello, and oh it was so good to be back. all the people i wanted to hug were there.

then the bells rang, and it was time to enter the sanctuary. this last weekend, many of the church leaders gathered for a prayerful retreat. and my goodness, were the results of their closeness, petitions and requests to and of God reflected in the sermon, which i believe veered quite from the original path.

being a person who loves music but has a not so lovely voice, music often brings me to tears. classical music reminds me of my grandad, show tunes remind me of frugal blake, and today's praise selections reminded me of God's grace and His gifts to us. the joy of his blessings were reflected on the praise team's faces, and it was electric. a short excellent message, communion, more powerufl meaningful songs.

and afterwards, we stepped into the rain , with the hugs of friends still pressing into my shoulders.

i was so happy and at peace.

not two minutes later, i was screaming at sebastian. he was unhappy because his father was sitting in the front of the taxi, and burst into unreasonable sobs and tears. all the love and joy i had felt gave way to the less glorifying of God version of tess. i (probably) overreacted...i wanted to feel this happy joyful glow all day long, and real life had intervened. and i snapped and shrewed down caine road until i distracted my unreasonable child by singing songs about sebastian riding in planes that i made up as the taxi metre ticked off the miles.

i don't know what it is about singing and fretful souls. but it worked, on me and on sebastian, and i am grateful. i'm not proud of how i reacted to sebastian's (infuriating, i have to emphasise how infuriating he was) actions, but what counts is that i got the better of MYSELF, and stopped the crying, and my anger.

it is almost 4pm, down to the playground we go.

park & shop & put back

this morning magnificent and i were awoken at the relatively rude hour of 6.15am. jj was sporting a 20 pound nappy and needed to express his anguish. his sisters (muses?) took up the lament and soon sebastian was awake as well.

once breakfast was underway for the triumverate, mc decided to go for a run and i offered to take sebastian for a walk to the area where magchar would finish his run. it was a lovely misty morning, not oppressively humid like the last few have been, and even though he would have preferred it if his dad was taking him, seb thought the walk would be fun.

the skies looked ominous, so we took his little umbrella and were off. we had a fun walk, and stopped to look at snails and discuss how their shells protect them and are their houses as well. we splashed in puddles and discussed how water is sometimes found underneath bridges.

at one point sebastian got rather wet and afterwards decided he wanted to be carried. i declined the offer. soon we were on flat and paved terrain, and we stopped to look at a chained fence and discuss why it was locked. a light rain began and i snapped open seb's little umbrella, but we didn't use it for long and the drizzle ceased almost immediately.

some dogs were being walked and after asking permission and letting the doggies smell his hand, sebastian petted them. he also held a leash, which made him feel very important, apparently. then a sweaty magnificent ran to us, and we walked to look at the koi fish and turtles in the reservior. we named all the turtles then headed back home.

after a small breakfast on the terrace, we decided to get groceries. our vehicle's radiator split last night so our activity options for the day were severely reduced. we compiled a quick grocery list, grabbed all the kids, reminded sebastian to do one last wee-wee, headed outside, hailed a taxi, and were off to our local grocers, park & shop.

it was less hassle than we would have thought, mainly because we didnt bring diaper bags. we figured any emergency supplies we needed could be purchased at park and shop, so we got lazy. once there, we greeted the ladies at the cashier, who have all been there a while and know our family, and put jj, cee cee and lu-lu (when did my family come to this?) in one cart while sebastian opted to run alongside, get ready for this, his grocery cart wielding dad. surprised?

taking the babies out can be a mixed blessing at times. one "better you than me" can irritate me. but today everyone we ran into was so pleasant, it was just a joy to be out. i didn't have to say, "better full hands than empty ones" ONCE.

however, my hands are not the only full ones. the babies are enjoying being able to lean out of the cart and pluck at random items that take their interest. at one point when i paused to look at toothbrushes, jasper took the opportunity to grab a box of tampons (slimfit) from the shelf and start chewing on the corner of the box. thank goodness they are individually wrapped in plastic containers. carys was extra active (and refused to sit down i should add) and showed a fondness for household cleaning items, while sela started squealing when she saw the bananas and grabbed on to the bin they were displayed in.

sebastian was very good, he only asked for one thing: a book with mr incredible on the cover. i explained to him that the book was in chinese and he decided he didn't need it anymore.

not having a car at our disposal was no worry, we had a good family saturday. hopefully our luck will last over the weekend.

yes hello, i am the girl who fell asleep last night at 6pm. who meant to blog but the mattress wouldn't let me move.

had a small moral dilemma last night: after a three way consultation that did not involve the underpaid mummy mediator, the babies declared themselves ready for the day at 2.30am. they declared this loudly.

i KNOW in my heart of hearts that they were not hungry (having witnessed the dinners they consumed...fish pie, their favourite, followed by yoghurt, cheese and grapes), and that if left alone, they would stop crying and commence sleeping. and sebastian would not stir, of that i was also certain.

while this crying to sleep plan worked when the babies were accustimising themselves to the 15 hour time difference in canada, back in hong kong it isn't so easy. why? because we are in a flat and we have neighbours below us.

i had to get the wailing triumverate out of bed because i knew my neighbours (who sleep in the room directly below jj, sela, carys and sebastian) were sleeping. or trying to. as one does at 2.30am on a thursday morning. it would shut them up in the short term, but not in the long run. however, i had to, so i did.

the babies played around for what seemed to be forever and i didn't feed them. while travelling we got into the habit of throwing  biscuits at them whenever they began whinging, and they definitely are in need of more variety in their diets. but i refrained from cheese cubes, grapes, carrots, and all the other finger foods.

i have often wondered why sela sucks her thumb. carys did for a bit, but no longer does. she rests her thumb outside her mouth when going to sleep, but the thumb doesn't touch the mouth. whereas sela, with her voraciousness, consumes the thumb. but last night i learned again that God is the fine tuner of details. at 4am sela was walking around, and she put her thumb in her mouth.

sela only puts her thumb in her mouth when she is tired.

it was 4am but even i could apply the nearly forgotten philosophy 205 class..

sela only puts her thumb in her mouth when she is tired

her thumb is in her mouth

she must be tired.

so i picked her up and threw her into bed.

she did not cry.

i followed with carys and jasper.

they cried.

but only for two minutes.

sebastian slept through the night and woke up this morning declaring that he wasn't tired and hadn't had breakfast. he ate cheerios on the terrace with his mummy and daddy, then we prayed for the new school year and he got dressed in his uniform. unforunately, the bus company gave us the wrong information, and we arrived downstairs camera in hand to find the bus had been waiting for five minutes. not a great start to the year? who cares. sebastian had a wonderful first day and that is what counts.

i didn't cry, but i did have to swallow a few times when i went downstairs to pick him up and saw him mouthing the words "hi mummy!" as our eyes met. the great big smile on his face. i am a far second in his affections to daddy, but he is showing his love for me. little man.

finally...a few months ago we occasionally were calling carys "blue blue" because of her eyes. that was shortened to lulu, which we still occasionally call her. we stopped because two ladies told me that it wasn't a great nickname because lulu has no resemblance to carys' name.

did the duke resemble john wayne's name?