before we leave 2014!

I love Lego!

In order

1.


2.


3.


Christmas produces way too much clutter. But the spirit of praying, of being good, of being kind is still there, in earnest.

unwrapped

it's a very commercialised Christmas in these shores. the hubby dug deep in the gifts provisions. of course, it's not like it's a new car. we both lack the license to drive and I would need high-powered contact lenses, as I'm hindered by my poor eyesight. but presents are presents and they would rock (!), as I expect them to be, let's wait for Christmas Day. the ones with his family are done. was I disappointed with the scarf? the thing is I'm that important, my sweet little daughter is the key to happiness. and she's quite prudent in her dealings with wrappings. let's see, pink dress? yes, please.

wrapped in blues

I felt so down while I was occupied with wrapping presents and signing cards the past few days. I didn't know whether it was because of the cold or the season just pulls me down due to too much commerce. Until now I have no cards to display in the allotted slot. Maybe the pseudo smiles in the corridor are enough to lift the gloom. Who knows, days pass us by without us noticing. I've hosted a get together where everybody knows everybody, which is fun.

I've discovered crochet. I've yet to polish my baking and cooking techniques. I don't cook that much yet but it's damn good amazing to consume what one has prepared. I read the papers daily. I've observed cultures and behaviours. I view social media with a bit of derision. Mostly, I just want my toddler to go to bed early.

the toddler phase

Now that it's December, the prams are upon us. Too many prams in the shopping centre just today at midday, as I was in a rush to procure presents for kids in my circle.

On Friday, (minus the pram), I brought my toddler to the centre, hoping she would behave. We were made to vanish while her dad was dusting and hoovering. It was a nightmare, my sweet two year old couldn't yet comprehend the concept of "no touch, no screams, just look." This phase of "lying on the floor" in protest when she doesn't get what she wants is not amusing. Nor is her screaming non-stop. For the screeching noise, I got dagger looks in the bus.

Children grow up as DR (who's DR?) pointed out to me in September (childcare issues, wth?). But this page and the paragraph above is for keeps, as next time next year she'll be more prudent and won't just choose all the pink dresses in her wardrobe.