Dim Sum Mum - Tess' Little Pieces

firstly, sorry for one week of silence....i couldn't access my typepad account. like that's a hassle i need.

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call me when you have free time.

i have a friend who does not particularly enjoy spending time with children. i don't take offense to that, it's not just my children she doesn't enjoy spending time with, it's everyone's. before i had children i wasn't overly eager to spend time with them either, i suppose.

it gets a little difficult, because i am always declining her invitations to events. or i will suggest we go out for a walk (which she enjoys), and i suggest we go early. but she doesn't "do" early, says we have to go later, and i say i need to be back for the 11.45 bus. oh, so we aren't doing it at all, she says. maybe in five years.

scheduling with people who don't want to be around children is difficult for me because i do like being around children, and i have plenty of children i want and need to spend time with.

afternoons aren't so good, because i am usually with the triumverate, or taking sebastian to an activity. i would be happy to invite her over to have a coffee as we strolled through the playground, yet the one time we tried that was a huge failure.

you're the busiest person i know! she cries, when i decline yet another invitation.

and i suppose it must seem that way, but the thing is she doesn't like being with me when i am around the children. and she doesn't like my traditional get away time, from 8am-10am, after seb gets on the bus and the babies are having their 8.45-10am nap. that's my window, but she doesn't like it. fair enough, but i am trying.

last weekend charles was away, and i made plans to have dinner with steph, whose husband was in america. my friend called halfway through the week and said,

so i was thinking i would come over and see the kids on friday night.

this surprised me. see the kids? her? but unfortunately,

friday won't be good. we are going to a party and won't be getting home until 6.30pm or so. then it will be bathtime, and hopefully bed soon after.

so? i'll come over later and we can go out.

oh, well that's not good either.

you have plans?

i do.

well why did you bother giving me the song and dance about the party if you had plans for friday evening?

because you said you wanted to come and see them, not go out.

we have these conversations, and i think they are equally frustrating for each of us. i generally love spending time with her, but my windows of child-free opportunities are few, and there are a lot of people i want to be catching up with.

there is also the problem that i reserve nights for just mc and me. i also reserve movies. my friend and i love seeing movies, and she gets irked when i say, sorry, i reserved that one for magnificent. i probably would be.

and to be fair, the art gallery openings that she so enjoys are not my preferred events to attend anymore. i have been out of the scene for a while, and would know no-one, and would be sitting there like a little meatball. not my preferred idea of fun.

but it frustrates me, because this is a long and cherished friendship, and i feel i am letting her down. being consumed by the mummy-train, a hormone hostage.

i am disappointed, yet i recognise this is not just my problem.

i am going to call her right now and suggest a dinner for the next time mc is away.

any other ideas?

massages in bangkok run from sublime to supremely painful. price does not affect which end of the spectrum your experience will fall into.

our friday night massages were fantastic. for the price (200 baht per hour...app $5us) you can't expect massage tables, so we told the masseurs to go easy on our backs and just focus on feet, legs and arms. they obeyed our instructions fabulously. when i was laying down, my masseur placed her knees on my feet and ground them around....it was dee-vine.

last night poor mc didn't have such a great experience...he almost faked a charley horse just to get out of there.

we had a good night though, we went to the night market and browsed around. the number of knockoff dvd stalls has increased 2000 per cent since i was last at that market in 2002. (magcharles actually visited that market in 1990..but claims there were no booming beta stalls there. let's believe him.) at one point, mc and i were at one of those tables and i felt something land on my foot.

oh crap a rat! i thought.

and for some reason, i did not scream, or shake my foot...instead i looked down and almost melted with relief when i realised it was only a kitten. if looks had anything to do with it, a direct descendant from the heavily male cat insolently grooming himself a few stalls down.

after the night market we wanted to hit the silom district. Although there is a night market in silom/patpong, the quality of goods tends not to be as high in this area, and we were pretty shopped out. our taxi driver thought we said patpong, which is where the live action shows are. nothing like getting an eyeful while just watching the doors open and close!

mc and i still had indian and a massage on the agenda so we didn't want to get too caught up. instead, we were looking for a nike shop, so mc could get a running singlet. i had seen a very cute size small one in hong kong, "how's my running? call 1-800-run-nike" and wanted to get it for him in his size.

we didn't find it, but we did find several suitable ones. then it was time to hit boots to get charles' beloved KING OF SHAVES products.

by the time our massages were over, it was well into the morning and our curry place was closed, so we took the boat back to the hotel and ordered room service and watched something's gotta give.

this morning we raced around: haircuts, massages, stall shopping, the long anticipated curry, and then we lay by the pool. finally it was time to depart. and here we are, at don muang international.

it has been a great weekend. we have spoken with sebastian every day, and hearing  him say to lita when she reports to him that his mummy is on the phone,

my mummy?

creates another crack in my heart. we went to a birthday party on saturday. thursday before i left he dictated the card to me and it went like this...

i hope you have fun being one. i hope you like playing on the playground. i am glad you are my friend. i hope you have a chocolate cake.

and it was. sebastian was thrilled, and by the party's end, very full.

Bumrungraduate

The other day I was reading to Sebastian. He was sitting on my lap, my legs were stretched out in front of me. About halfway through GREEN EGGS AND HAM, Sebastian got up to pull sela off the toyshelf, which she is learning to climb. Then he had to yank off carys, none too gently I might add. Safety restored to the playroom, the triumphant self-appointed sheriff headed back to my lap but before he settled down again, he looked at my legs and said, “not like that mummy!” my legs were crossed now, and he explained that he wanted my “legs out like this!” and he pulled them into a straight position.

We were on our fourth book, and my knees needed a break from the straight out position. I explained this to Sebastian then inquired as to why he didn’t want my legs crossed. His response? To point to two stray hairs on my I kid you not freshly shaven legs and exclaim, “I don’t want the scratchy bit touching me!”

I do not like them when we read
I do not like them after I’ve weed
I do not like those hairs so funny
I do not like them, oh my mummy!

Magnificent and I are in Bangkok this weekend, a combination of hassle and pleasure. We flew out late Thursday evening. We spent the first night at the Bumrungrad hospital’s BH Suites and the next morning, following 12 hours of fasting, headed to the outpatient clinic for the comprehensive health check ups. We had our eyes checked, every single blood level checked, “poopers and wee wee” analysis, charles had a stress test, I had an biopsy on my arm, an EKG, a mammogram and smear and ovarian ultrasound…we were worked over. At first, we were lulled into a false sense of security…dentist complimenting me on my cavity and filling free teeth, my eyesight. But around the time of the mammogram and ultrasound of my internal organs I got concerned. The tech was taking too long on one area. Way too long. When she called in the doctor, I knew something was wrong. Okay, but was it ABNORMAL or was it BAD? By the time the mammogram was finished and the doctor insisted the tech re-take some of the images so she could better “see past this dense mass” I was panicking. I had finished my book, and that was not a good thing because my mind could dwell on what might have been found.

I got as far as planning how my friends could help make the deceased me “real” for my children (having gone through where we would go if I needed treatment, who I didn’t want coming to my memorial and musing as to what sort of people would get my organs, and if there really is evidence of people with organ transplants taking on some of the characteristics of the donors…) and it was time to meet with the doctor to discuss the results.

I won’t make you wait as long as I did…I have an abnormally enlarged spleen (BAD), but there is no apparent reason for it. Ie: no mass. (GOOD).  But I need to keep an eye on that. The mammogram came back as negative, and I need to be very diligent. (I have accepted magcharles’ offer to help with the BSE’s). and interestingly enough, I have no resistance to hepatitis b. I have been vaccinated for hepb before, but need to do that again.

Last but not least, I tripled the scale on the thyroid test. I have always sort of known that I have a thyroid problem…being constantly cold was the big tip off. Even in Bangkok streets in the heat of day, I wear a jumper. For years I didn’t do anything about it for the relatively weak reason that I didn’t want any other health things on my plate. Epilepsy was enough, thank you very much. Doctors, MORE medications? Thanks but no thanks. I could handle the weight gain and coldness, tyvm.

I might do something about my thyroid now. Now that I’ve had the official test and it’s a proven fact it seems that I ought to. Or maybe I am ready to be smarter now. playing the waiting game yesterday while waiting for our results made me promise I was going to be better to my body.  Money where your mouth is, and all that.

After leaving the hospital, I immediately forgot to be grateful to be alive and healthy, and was cursing at our cab driver as he ignored our instructions. Anyway, we are now at the Peninsula, enjoying two days of decadence before heading back tomorrow evening. This is a gracious  hotel (www.peninsula.com) , and we love it here. MC loves their spring rolls and pool, while I love the televisions in the bathtub. Last night I watched just about the entire movie “love actually” while soaking, despite having to keep the area of my arm that had been biopsied dry. It was divine. And right now we are sitting poolside with only the last spring roll on the plate daring to come between us.

Back to the thyroid….the dr said that a common side effect is hair loss. Well according to my son, there is too much hair on my legs. SO there we go, a faux diagnosis and one less medication/set of appointments for me, or at least a reason to procrastinate making the appointment.

body for life, or lives

apparently as we age we should not curse baldness, tennis elbow, wrinkles or gravity obedient body parts. instead, we need to be positive, grateful to our bodies for the years of service it has given us. the example i was given: thank your little toe for being so good to you and holding up your weight so well (hold on, are you suggesting i am fat?).

that's true, you never appareciate teeth until the throbbing toothache subsides, or the hangnail is finally gone. everyone knows that.

but on another, ah yes, so much deeper level, have you ever congratulated your body for it's versatility?

these days, arms for me are a shortage. not enough for my children, let alone for other uses. so i have assigned other body parts to compensate.

thank you nose for being just pointy enough to fit nicely into the elevator lift button. when my arms are full of groceries and children, instead of putting anything down, you step right in there, nose, and push in the up button.

thank you teeth for so gamely holding grocery bags, extra nappies, ties, cloths. in the early days, right after watching THE ARISTOCATS, you even held carys by the top of her onesie as i transported her from change table to bed.

thank you toes for being trainable and dextrous enough to slide papers, empty plates, laundry, books and cups over to magnificent's side of the bed, or lift a bunch of grapes and deposit them on my lap, or to magnificents side of the bed when my arms were full of sleeping babies and i needed a new position or something to eat.

thank you chin for holding in jasper's soother back in the days when he was dependent on one but ironically kept pulling it out. i would have a girl in each arm and no way of preventing the terror of the wayward soother. chin did double duty - propping the soother in, and preventing renegade jj hands from finding and pulling at it.

thank you knee for acting as a sebastian entertainer while my hands were occupied and i couldnot get up because i was feeding three babies. knee either bounced sebastian up and down, or was a bridge that required a special password before it would move up and let the train driver through.

we won't win the 2005 yummy mummy body contest, but my goodness, we would do well in the multitasking competition.

techno teens

the sub species of teen that has evolved with technology astounds me.

some things never change. when we were teens, magnificent and i could not wait to get out of the house and hang out with friends. after changing outfits (depending if their parents saw them before they escaped out the door), begging for coin, charles would scamper off to be with his posse. (my friends usually came to my place, my parents had an open door policy for which i was/am very grateful).

and where-ever we were, we would talk with our friends, or listen to music, or even, study on occasion. but interaction was involved. no one would wander off alone unless they wanted their ex-boyfriend to follow them and hopefully ask them to "go around" again.

cut to today's teens. they get together, but there is no face to face interaction. they are all too busy sending text messages with someone who ISN"T there at the time. or if they actually do get talking to someone who possibly has carpal tunnel and can't be texting away, if they receive a message with barely an excuse me, they turn away to commence communicating with the absent friend. what is the purpose of being together if you are just going to zone off with someone else? does this seem anti social? do those teens ever want to shake their friends and say, "hey i am right here?"

i suppose this is evolution...i can remember my dad's arm coming around the corner to turn up the dimmer switch whenever the lights got too low and asking, "what's the point in this "hanging around" if all you are going to do is listen to michael jackson?" but at least we were zoned out together. when charles went to the arcade (i wasn't allowed to go), the kids focused on their own games, but at least their friends were around to offer assistance on where pac man could find the oranges and cherries? is text the millenium equivalent to pong and lp's? or even call waiting?

is this ignoring those you are with to talk with those you aren't some sort of symbolism for the state of relationships today? if we aren't guilty of pulling the text trick, are we ignoring our spouses, children, and friends for the remote, the bottle, the book, or???  i don't know, i just find it creepy these silent groups of congregated kids.

today when on the computer kids converse with five friends at a time on their instant messenger systems. by converation i mean:

hey

hey. wht r u dng?

nthing. u?

nah. lol. rotflmao.

brb.

and then going on to the next converation which is eerily similar.

i met my husband on line, but when i was out with friends, i didn't carry on conversations with him.

back the text-teens...even when surily occupying street corners (so that people crossing the intersections need to walk past the corner in order to step up on to the sidewalk), you see them, bent heads and flying fingers texting away. or maybe even graduating to talking on their mobiles. instead of to the person next to them. some of them can rip themselves away from their conversations to shout rude things to people walking by, but it is clearly a sacrifice for them. kids, where are your voices?

if i were a teen, i probably would be doing the same thing. and thinking the old lechers in their 30's were old whiskery trouts who didn't get it.

and they're right. i don't.

those of you who have been with us when we have dined out know we operate on a schedule that would make the folks at ALIAS proud. team leaders magnificent and tess have separate tasks, to ensure the operation runs successfully and smoothly, and a variety of just in case (JIC) moves that can be implemented whenever a plan veers slightly off course. here is how we generally run it.....

call ahead and make a reservation. yes, i said three high chairs. thank you.

when you walk into the restaurant, let people know by your smiles and walk (even though you are carrying either jasper and the nappy bag or sela and carys) that you are confident your kids will not ruin everyone else's dining experience.

when you arrive at the table, move the high chairs away from the table before putting the kids into them. have a packet of wipes in your back pocket incase the highchairs have grungy bits that need to be taken care of. with the kids slightly away from the table, they can't slide the flatware off the table while you are clipping them into relative stillness and submission. smile at the couple and their two children next to you and confirm the triplet status. our preferred seating configuration is a table for six with the adults in the middle. that could change, but for right now it works.

once kids are immobile, clear the table of any excess. flatware, toothpicks, hot sauce, salt, pepper (i can always get the good cracked pepper from the waiter) later on, the little containers that holds the sugars and sweet and low. don't tempt fate...keep every single napkin.

magnificent selects a crayon and draws a few roads and intersections, an airport, a bus stop and a schoool on the paper in front of sebastian, while tess pulls out the mini bus we brought from home. seb enters creative land.

when the waiter arrives with water, pull out sippy cups and fill the cups with that water. promptly remove the glasses.  ask the waiter to bring a breadbasket and to send over whoever is taking our order. agree with the americans that have just been seated next to you that one more and we have a basketball team.

remove bibs from the nappie bag and clip on to each child. wipe down their hands with antiseptic wipes.

order food that can be easily and quickly taken away, just in case. ask that the chips come on a separate plate as the fish fingers and the chicken nuggets. ask that the kids food come as soon as it is ready. refuse sebastian's request that mummy sing the red plane song. sing the song when sebastian is going into the plane and to toronto to see mycousingalen and then he will go to hong kong and then to edmonton. you sing that song mummy.

fish the crayon out of sela's mouth. dip fingers in water, and shove them in sela's mouth looking for any residual crayon.

congratulate jasper for pulling the paper tablecloth.

give babies something to drink.

pull carys' finger out of her ear.

roll eyes in relief when bread basket comes and rip the bread into small pieces, deliver it to outstretched and gleeful hands. ask the waiter to remove the butter. cross examine sebastian as to whether he can finish an entire piece of bread. i'm a big boy!

request that people dont try and lift them the babies out of the highchairs while taking pictures.

when food arrives, don't let the waiters place it infront of the children. you and mc divide up the plates, cutting the fish/chicken into small pieces, covering the chips with a (clean?) napkin and placing them in the middle of the table, where small fingers cannot reach them.

blow on food, making babies believe this will really help it cool faster. transfer all the deep fried protein on to one plate and give the waiter the other plates. the motto: reduce, reuse, recycle. (that would be the straw that sebastian dropped that i bent down and retrieved and calmly handed back to him.)

give triumverate members four pieces of cooled chicken on a mini plate.

give sela and jasper some water.

turn to carys, who is red and choking. look at her plate and realise she has all four pieces of chicken in her mouth..unless...a quick check under the table confirms none of the pieces have been dropped. she's coughing and bending towards you, tears and snot pouring down her face. doing that deep cough.

don't freak out, but in a low voice so no one who is watching (and that is everyone, they've been watching you pretty much since you arrived) can over hear, request some water.

mentally determine what you are going to do if she vomits. what has she eaten in the last while. could the napkin i hold underneath her chin contain everything? she's had a lot of water so it would be hard to tell. if it is a projectile vomit, do i want to take the full force on my own self (therefore saving my reuben), or not?

keep wiping her nose, removing all the bits that are coming flying out each time she gives a deep cough, wave hands around so observers can see my clean hands and the light clear napkin and know she hasn't vomitted.

finally, pocket the small vomit, fold the napkin into eighths, offer daugher water. only offer her one bit of chicken at a time. little lu-lu.

tell sebastian how much it was appreciated that he stayed calm and didn't shriek while carys was sick.

on pretense of asking for more something, summon waiter over and hand him the napkin and request the bill. this is key. request the bill long before you need to leave.

continue eating. only when you are convinced that all three are ready for chips, do you bring out the chips. no child of mine wants to finish their vegetables when their siblings are tucking into chips. to kill time between deep friend protein and deep fried carbohydrate, you can offer yet more bread.

accept the bits of chicken and chip your children are offering you, a sure sign their appetites are on the wane. say, oh thank you, and pretend to nibble on the food, rolling your eyes and still holding their hand. put the food back on the plate.

realise that we are actually talking and relatively relaxed. smile and thank the couple that compliment you on how good your kids are actually being. realise that once the fab four are out of highchairs it will be a completely different story. offer credit card and frequent diner card to waiter.

get the doggy bag. tell sebastian we are so proud of him and he was a pleasure to be with this afternoon.

push away highchairs, unclip children, lift one into arms, lift another into arms, smile at fellow diners who are looking at you with some relief and appreciation, and exit. let children run around downstairs right before the parking lot. ignore sela's loud cries of anger when you pick her up for the final journey to the deepest car park. buckle everyone in. congratulate yourself.

today something neat happened, just as we reached our "tot yacht", a car veered near us, obviously waiting for our spot. they saw charles and i bending over open doors (putting kids into car seats), and beside us, sebastian holding sela's hand wtih one of his own, while he also touched the side of the car. charles then put sebastian into his car seat, while i took care of sela. wtih the last snap, i pulled out of the car, straightened my back and pulled down my shirt, and as i was opening my own door, the driver (they had been waiting for five minutes now) rolled down his window and asked, "do you have more than just twins?" i responded, "triplets and a four year old!"

this guy, in his porche carerra, tooted his horn and started applauding me. way to go, mum! he shouted...taking your whole family out!

and instead of buckling myself into my seat, i got out, and took a bow. 

whazza dim sum mum?

a few months after starting this blog, i changed its name from "tesspeak" to "dim sum mum".

the other day i added my blog to a multiples blog list and someone emailed me asking:

"I do not want to seem ignorant because I like your blog, but why did you change the name? Do you want to explore more about the Chinese culture instead of having triplets?"

good question, and here is the answer.

the literal definition of dim sum is: "to touch your heart"

dim sum, served in "little pieces", consists of a wide variety of tastes and experiences.

dim sum are tiny presents. for the unfamiliar, they can be an overload of the senses.

the dim sum atmosphere is joyous and leisurely, usually consisting of groups of friends, and families. talking always accompanies dim sum!

my dim sums have touched my heart. they are not all uniform, they come in a variety of shapes and are each different. when we are all together, it is noisy, joyous, and a wonderful time to catch up and share. and yes, just as a dim sum novice can be overwhelmed by the carts rolling past, the hand gestures, the steaming pots and noise, unless you are used to four children under four, our family can be overwhelming too the first time you encounter us.

tiny presents. little bits that have touched my heart. each different. i am the dim sum mum.

now that i have cleared that up...

for the next time you venture out for dim sum (or yum cha as it is also known), here are some suggestions on what to order, courtesy of mcharles and myself and wandering spoon.

Shrimp dumplings (har gau) Tender, semi-translucent dough pleated in a distinctive half-moon shape around a shrimp filling and then steamed.

Pork dumplings (siu mai) Small, round steamed dumplings with a juicy, gingery pork and shrimp filling peeking though the gathers of a thin wrapper. Another benchmark for dim sum teahouses.

Potstickers (wor tip or gau ji) These familiar steamed and pan-seared appetizers are heartier than most other dim sum dumplings. They have a thicker dough enclosing a pork and shrimp filling.

Chive dumplings (gau choi gau) Flat and round, with a chewy dough thin enough to reveal a delicate green color on top and seared to a crisp on the other side. One variation includes scallops.  really good with

Steamed buns with roast pork (char siu bau) Soft, fluffy white rolls filled with morsels of sweet, red-glazed roast pork. these two (chive and steamed buns) are possibly my faves.

Baked buns with roast pork (guk char siu bau) Roast pork enclosed in a yeasted dough and baked golden brown. not as good, but the sesame seeds sprinkled atop them are lovely.

Curried beef crescents (gah li au so) Miniature turnovers with extremely flaky dough and a curried beef filling, it is thought this little bit is from western china.

anything with taro!

Spring rolls (chun geun) if they offer the vietnamese style of steamed and cold versus deep fried, i would select those, however the deep fried chinese spring rolls are classic. i prefer the vegetarian version with bamboo shoots and water chestnuts, and mushrooms, but pork and shrimp are offered as well.

some people prefer rice balls, glutinous rice or congee, but we like the more westernized "fried rice" for our carb contribution.

Lotus leaf rice packets (law mai gai) During steaming, the leaves of the lotus plant infuse their delicate flavor and aroma into a filling of glutinous rice studded with a variety of ingredients including chicken, roast pork, Chinese sausage, peanuts, and black mushrooms. 

pam - what was the dim sum that we had in shenzhen? i remember it was spectacular. i want to say squash but i think i am wrong????

Shrimp dumplings (har gau) Tender, semi-translucent dough pleated in a distinctive half-moon shape around a shrimp filling and then steamed. Dedicated dim sum diners judge a teahouse by the quality of its har gau.

we always order chinese greens in garlic...for those whose chopstick skills aren't 101 per cent excellent we find the smaller choy sum to be nice and manageable. remember, it is not bad etiquette to lift your bowl up to your chin when eating.

and don't leave out the sauces!not just the soy...try the vinegar! especially with the chives bit.

Now, while some people prefer custard tarts for dessert, i am an advocate of chilled mango pudding with chunks of mango littered about, topped with unsweetened heavy milk.

ode to kmm

when i was four i met one of my lifelong best friends.

marie lived next door to me. she was a grade older than me, so after school, if neither of us had friends over, we would play together. she had the COOLEST playhouse ever...it had RUNNING WATER and was TWO STORIES HIGH.

we moved when i was 10. three years later, when it was time for me to make my annual exodus from yellowknife (i would get infections and fevers from black fly bites), my mum asked marie's mum if i could come and stay. marie's incredible Christian parents said, of course.

(just like they said of course when my parents wanted to take their first holiday together since we had been born. marie's parents stepped in and invited pam, graeme and i to stay at their house for two weeks. they even took in our dog! i remember every night marie's mum made our dog a baked potatoe for dinner, with sour cream and onions and probably bacon bits as well.)

marie and i had a great summer. we did a lot of laughing and talking about beaus and being skittish teens, nothing serious...fun and food. west edmonton mall had recently opened, and we were mall rats, going to galaxy land and not having to pay for the rides because marie was so cute that the ride operators let us all ride for free.

the next summer, marie got a part time job. fortunately it was at an ice cream shop. and then the next summer, at mcdonalds. and then she was old enough for retail. each summer was a little different...took us a little closer to "growing up". each summer had a different cast of styles, songs, expressions, hangouts and boys. i can still remember them.

and then i turned 17 and my parents said i needed to start working as well. fair enough. the next summer i was in edmonton, upgrading.

over those four summers, we had maybe two serious talks. but pushed reality and unpleasantness away very quickly. she didn't ask about epilepsy or my family, and i was glad. it was all about endless summer nights, tanning with baby oil, sleeping in the trailer (and having neighbours chasing away the boys that came knocking on the trailer windows), and being young.

at times, i wanted to ask her questions. to really get to know her. but i didn't. asking questions might reveal how insecure i was. marie seemd to have an existence from a book...glossy blonde hair, cool second hand car her dad had fixed up for her, the entire collection of bobbsey twin books in the bookshelf, a piece of paper stuck to the fridge that read:

the three steps to success

1. start strong

2. keep going

3. finish well

during the university years, there wasn't a lot of contact. occasional phone calls became irregular calls.

i saw marie when she was the maid of honour at her sister's wedding. my mum and i agree that marie's sister was one of the most beautiful brides we had ever seen. almost as overwhelming was marie, who had tears coursing down her face the entire ceremony. one of the deepest exchanges we had shared came when she told me afterwards, "Everything is changing".

a while later, she met someone. and from the sound of her voice when we talked, i knew he was important. she sounded different than she had a year ago. they became engaged. she was ready for change.

huge surprise, she invited me to be a bridesmaid. i had teased her about it, but didn't think she would ask me. so when she did, i was delighted and accepted immediately. i stayed at marie's parents house with marie the night before the wedding. it felt incredibly special to be there. they had always treated me as family.

the next morning, i watched my friend transform herself into a bride, and later that day, a wife.

i was transforming too, and i had to leave the reception early to catch a plane to montreal for an interview that would take me to vancouver, to an asian pacific management course. i passed the interview, and was off to vancouver, and a short while later...hong kong.

marie didn't have internet, magnificent and i had no money, so there was little communication.

but when i got engaged, and was choosing bridesmaids, i immediately thought of marie, who was pregnant...with twins!!!!

i was looking at an online wedding advisory and the site advised that so not to put undue pressure on the person, ask them for a lesser role. if they say yes, then say, "great! wanted you to be a bridesmaid but didn't want to pressure you."

she was due in october, the wedding was 31 july...she declined. fair enough.  and in october, delivered two divine girls.

somewhere down the line, after marriage, our discussions took on a serious level. when i saw her as an exhausted new mum. when she saw me as an exhausted new mum. she started it. told me how tough parenting was. it surprised me. marie...my cheerful, confident friend? daunted? i hope i said the right things. i don't remember if i did. but i could see our friendship was changing. and we were both ready for it.

the next time we met, sebastian was about four months old. i dropped him at marie's parents place during a whirlwind trip to canada, we hired a professional sitter to look after all three kids, and we went shopping. we did shop, but we also talked. five hours of sharing, laughing, and, confiding. real emotions. we were passed the, "i am really worried that i look fat in this", to which the other would respond, "well, i am really worried that i should have bought both colours of this skirt" stage.

i can be standing at the cash register at cinnabon (we still eat and shop when together...we have it down to a science...two small meals and one snack over a 10 hour period), look at marie and see the girl she was, the woman she is. she hasn't changed that much externally. but internally...

life has changed us.

love has changed us.

God has changed us.

learning has changed us.

it is a joy to be with marie. especially since our time together is short, we treasure it. we are both happy and know we are blessed. so we can talk about trials and how we solve them, multiples issues, marriage issues and anecdotes. all the while knowing this is a person i have known and laughed with for over 30 years. she knew me then, she knows me now. we know each other's issues, and insecurities. there is history, there is future. there is a depth to this friendship, an honesty, that makes me free to share. i dont' blindly adore marie like i used to, time has given me confidence, instead of trying to be like her, i am happy being me, so she now can see the real me i was too insecure to show all those years ago.

this last visit, where a salesperson asked if we were sisters, i told marie how much she meant to me. how i walk away from our visits happy, reminded of how lucky i am, and how good it is to be honest and share with her. she said, "i know".

it is no wonder that carys' middle name is marie. and may both my daughters, as well as c&e know the beauty of long term friendships.

the music mum

music is a big part of our life. events increase in entertainment, lessen in irritation, and are committed to memory when put to song.

being an internet romance, magnificent and i dreamed about our first kiss for months. so when it FINALLY happened, and was not technicolour perfect, we made it into a song. (never fear, the second one was paint peeling fantastic.)

and when we kiss

we never miss

except the first time

we hit the half line

but that's okay

we kiss today

and get it right

when olivia went through her i hate xia xia phase, mc and i drowned out the screams with this carpenters inspired tune.

why does xiaxia suddenly appear

whenever olivia, is near?

she can't tell

olivia chooses hell

to being close to her

(laaa la la la la...close to her)

our wedding day, charles surprised me by handing out new words to one of our two wedding songs: leaving on a jet plane. (the other was dream a little dream of me). in the song he detailed places we had travelled, threw in our pathetically few hong kong expressions, along with vintage magnificent chuck phrases.

a few months after our wedding my gran was in a shop and heard "leaving on a jet plane" and she had to stop and tell the shop assistant that the song was in her granddaughter's wedding. music is like that. hearing a song takes you back to that time, and the emotions of it.

there was no infertility song, because there aren't really a lot of words that rhyme with:

my year is divided into 12 chances to get pregnant oh wait only six since my ovaries are procrastinators and i can't go to mexico to my dad's 60th birthday party because i can't afford to celebrate with the family because we are paying for the ivf and we never plan ahead because we are hoping that we will be pregnant and cant take the holiday we can't afford anyway and all my friends seem to be getting pregnant on their honeymoons and think i want to hear how terrible being pregnant is.

my period is never late

and i don't ovulate

was about as far as i got.

when i finally did find out i was pregnant, charles and i were 13 time zones apart. i couldn't think of a good enough song, but i did come up with a poem, and that's how he learned of impending fatherhood. i was thinking of another song at the time,

every time i try to tell you the words just come out wrong

so i have to say i love you, in a song.

it's not such a surprise that i sing to the kids a lot.

"i like the way you're cleaning up

i like how carys is cleaning up

picking up the planes and cars

because we're done with the blocks!"

i have a song for each of my children. sebastian and i sing his together, with him finishing the last word of each line. in the playroom i have to sing the triumverate's favourite songs three times, especially crowd favourites like "head and shoulders knees and toes", "the grand old duke of york" and "wind the bobbin up". every time i finish a song i pick one child off my lap and make room for the next who is fighting off a sibling and trying to land on my lap. we're our own moving circle of life.

i am certain that in years to come i will not be singing to the posse nearly as often as i do. when i do make up impromptu songs about their day, they will not be amused.

someone snapped sela's bra

not so ha ha ha

jasper's voice is cracking fast

seb's zip is at half mast

carys' new boyfriend won't last

mum, if you can't be cool, could you at least be quiet? everyone thinks you are so weird singing all the time. and like, your voice is, like, hashing.

and i will stop singing. because you can't sing and sigh simultaneously.

but i will say, defiantly, "you used to love it when i sang to you. you would all fight, even you sebastian, to sit on my lap when i sang to you."

but i will remember their songs, just like i remember the songs of life passed by. and years from now, when i am walking past a playground and hear "you are my sunshine", the thin veneer of moisture covering my eye will be enough to make me think the young mother sitting on the grass is me, singing away to the so loved little people who put the tunes in my heart.

multiple musings

in the past 10 days, several people have nicely or not so nicely drawn my attention to the following.

1) calling jasper, sela and carys by a collective name aka: the triumverate is bad for their self esteem. they will grow up thinking they are not individuals and appreciated for their unique talents and all i see them as are "the triplets".

2) i have no right to complain about the attention THE TRIUMVERATE get if i dress them alike. dressing alike BEGS people to pay attention.

3) making them share a bedroom is not a good thing, limits their individuality, they won't be able to sleep alone ever, they are co-dependent.

my responses to you all:

1) so does this mean i need to refer to my parents as "my mum and dad"? i TREAT my kids as individuals and i don't really think it matters what i call them, as long as i say it with love. would you ever say this to a person who didn't have multiples and referred to her children as "my kids"? i don't think so. calm down your tiny hormones.

2) if i throw jasper in a dress, i think you're on to something. until that day, you don't have a leg to stand on. i dress my girls alike NOT for the attention, rather because:

a) 100 years ago i was a girl, and i had a sister. we took great delight in informing my mother that the other sister always got to wear the nicer clothes. (of course, my mother should have cocked an eyebrow and said, "well tess, since you wear all her hand me downs, take comfort in the fact that once the outfit is faded, ripped and mended, you will be wearing it!) i don't need that hassle. i dress them alike, so in years to come they can both submit identical "you dressed us in crap clothes" petitions and i can light them and use them to burn the portion of the will that leaves any money to them.

my girlfriend steph dresses her four boys all alike and they aren't multiples. no one says she's in it for the attention.

b) when i am shopping for clothes, what am i supposed to do? buy one set of leggings that were va-voom cool, and then a second that i don't really like as much, but hey, i need more? and then when i am dressing them wonder, well, who should wear the outfit i don't like? NO INDEED. i don't need that hassle. i am neurotic enough about my parenting skills without extra ammunition.

c) identical outfits...easier to keep track of kids.

d) i'm guessing no matter what they are wearing, seeing four kids clumped together in a shopping cart, on a four seater tricycle, or seeing both parents carrying two children gets attention.

3) so in order to develop their ability to sleep alone (which does ensure they won't be having meaningless sexual relations in college just to get someone to stay the night...thanks for looking out for them), i should let someone sleep in a closet? or outside? we don't have a plethora of bedrooms in the house and maybe i should wait until the trio are out of cots until i put them in bunkbeds. i could be wrong.

sebastian makes up little stories in bed and talks out loud. nothing wrong with his creativity. and besides, in years to come, can you imagine the excuses they will come up with as to why they can provide proof that they absolutely did NOT make that disgusting smell, it was the sibling next to them?

i don't recall anyone critiquing my parenting skills (or lack thereof) when there was just sebastian. and believe me, it was not because i was doing such a perfect job.

do people think with multiples i need multiple opinions?