A MOM'S LIFE - Delia Ephron

Take your plate into the kitchen, please.

Take it downstairs when you go.

Don’t leave it there.

Take it upstairs.

Is that yours?

Don’t hit your brother.

I’m talking to you.

Just a minute, please. Can’t you see I’m talking?


I said, don’t interrupt.

What are you doing out of bed?

Go back to bed.

What do you mean, there’s nothing to do?

Go outside.

Read a book.

Turn it down.

Get off the phone.

Tell your friend you’ll call her back.

Right now.

Hello. No, she’s not home.

She’ll call you when she gets home.

Take a jacket. Take a sweater.

Take one anyway.

Someone left his shoes in front of the TV.

Get the toys out of the hall.

Get the toys out of the bathtub.

Get the toys off the stairs.

Do you realize that could kill someone?

Hurry up.

Hurry up. Everyone’s waiting.

I will count to ten and then we’re going without you.

Did you go to the bathroom?

If you don’t go, you’re not going.

I mean it.

Why didn’t you go before we left?

Can you hold it?

What’s going on back there?

Stop it.

I said, stop it!

I don’t want to hear about it.

Stop it or I’m taking you home right now.

That’s it. We’re going home.

Give me a kiss.

I need a hug.

Make your bed.

Clean up your room.

Set the table.

I need you to set the table.

Don’t tell me it’s not your turn.

Please move your chair up to the table.

Sit up.

Just try a little. You don’t have to eat the whole thing.

Stop playing and eat.

Would you watch what you’re doing?

Move your glass. It’s too close to the edge.

Watch it.

More what?

More please. That’s better.

Just eat one bite of salad.

You don’t always get what you want. That’s life.

Don’t argue with me. I’m not discussing this anymore.

Go to your room.

No, ten minutes are not up.

One more minute.

How many times have I told you, don’t do that.

Where did the cookies go?

Eat the old fruit before you eat the new fruit.

I’m not giving you mushrooms.

I’ve taken all the mushrooms out, see?

Is your homework done?

Stop yelling. If you want to ask me something, come here.

STOP YELLING.
IF YOU WANT TO ASK ME SOMETHING, COME HERE!

I’ll think about it.

Not now.

Ask your father.

We’ll see.

Don’t sit so close to the television.

It’s bad for your eyes.

Calm down.

Calm down and start over.

Is that the truth?

Fasten your seat belt.

Did everyone fasten their seat belts?

I’m sorry that’s the rule.

I’m sorry, that’s the rule.

I'm sorry, that's the rule!

Brevity...

Brevity....

def: shortness of time or duration; briefness: the brevity of human life

Did you realised how quickly this weekend went by? Mum came by on Sunday, made her a long black, chatted over leftover mooncakes. We browsed old magazines with mouth-watering recipes and discussed how she thought making green curry was as easy as ABC. Mum has been harping I should learn some of her signature dishes and gets pretty disturbed that I have not taken an interest in learning how to cook our all-time favourite dishes. I showed her recently taken pictures of her grandchildren at school, their achievements and how they were doing in school. We later had dinner, shared a plate of mee goreng with her and sipped teh-chinno. It was a moment I cherished. Time, whisked away every second, never to return.

To make a point, you yearn for a fun packed weekend as the work week had just been plain weary, all you needed is to have some interesting read by the pool, about lifestyles, motoring, cooking, food reviews or what a sommelier's last meal would be. Morbid. Then, on the front page of Sunday Times, reporting a hit and run accident in London causing an premature end to a young life all of 20. Not an ordinary girl she was, she was an exceptionally bright young lady pursuing medicine in Cambridge, a darling and star student that would do Singapore very proud. Probably a top notch surgeon after she graduates with top class honours. Nope, it was not meant to be. Wrong place, wrong time. She is dead. That gets you thinking A LOT. Brevity of life. Period.

I lost a classmate in 2006 to cancer. We met when when we were 14. Full of zest for life. She literally pranced while the little bells attached to her purse jingled as she walks. Her parents are food stall owners but in our 21 years of friendship, she never once brought us there to sample what her parents sold for a livelihood. Their daily takings that would eventually see her complete her university education in Singapore and then an all expense paid Europe trip as a reward. She should have been more proud of them than anything else that mattered to her. Among the five of us in our clique, she was the only one that made it to university. We knew she could go very far. As commerce was her strength, she worked for a local bank after graduation. She shared a Mercedes coupe with her husband. That was their baby. With her condition, she could never conceive. Not that she wanted to, as she is widely travelled, having children on tow, milk bottles and diapers would dampen (pun not intended) any trip. She wasn’t ready. The months preceding her departure, her husband continued piling her with overseas trips. She maintained normalcy, shopped for wigs, went for facials, and I remembered our last meal together with another close buddy. “Hey girls, when I am gone, you two must continue this makan thing ok, there’ll only be the two of you.” About a month later she didn’t know who we were. Brevity, she left us prematurely at 35. I was with her a day before she passed. I couldn’t understand life and why she wasn’t lucid anymore. I wanted to shake her so badly as I wanted her to know I was there to see her. Morphine was her only comfort. We took our leave reluctantly as her husband needed more time with her than us. But we knew that was the last we will see of her. Ironically, her husband remarried that same year. He gave us a whole new meaning to “move on in life”. I couldn’t fathom the logic and I obviously cannot count. I am side-tracking here, but its rather disturbing.

Why do I kiss my boys before they go to bed each night? God's agenda has and will always be a mystery. Kiss and make up, never go to bed feeling resentful over someone. Tomorrow may never come. Have you ever notice how lovely your babies are they are asleep. They are the most beautiful creatures. So serene, so innocent. God forbid, don’t ever take them away from me. That’s also why I tell them I love them forever and ever amen. Two and a half months ago, I received a rude call on a weekend informing me a student from my the school I worked at fell six floors from his apartment. But I just saw the boy on Friday? He was only ten and what was going to happen to his twin? They were inseparable and how would his mum feel? I cannot imagine a mother losing a child and I refuse to understand. The only word that came to mind was WHY? It was the saddest weekend ever. The twins were always playing “guess who am I” with me at the office during snack time. Pure and innocent. Taken with such cruel abruptness. No more guessing games and I don’t even know what to say to the remaining twin except for an uncomfortable hello. I miss the boy. I miss seeing them together.

Do not fret the small things. Make the trip to see your friends, relatives, visit mum and dad. You don’t need a reason to see them. Wanting to see them is already a reason. Life isn't a drama series, predictable and always at the same time and channel. Embrace the real time, the here and now. That is what matters. Procrastination gets you nowhere, only regrets.

You will reap a more meaningful life if you consider the fragility of life and its brevity. I have to stop now as I need to go tell me boys something….

You Don't Bring Me Flowers....

Last week at the office, there were flowers everywhere. Valentine's Day is still months away and I was wondering what's with the men sending flowers to their wives at work and they all seem to want to outdo one other. To a point, I suspected the ladies buy themselves flowers, just to get at each other. They then went on to publish their gorgeous bouquets on Facebook for all to see. Honestly, I envied them to death. The flowers just screams I LOVE YOU AND I DON'T MIND SPENDING $80 ON A PERISHABLE JUST TO MAKE YOUR DAY. Flowers just have this effect. I couldn't help but felt a little jealous and so did a few of my other colleagues who are shamelessly asking their boyfriends to buy them flowers like NOW! Being a sour grape, I nudged one of them on Facebook, asking them what was the occasion? If it wasn't a birthday or an anniversary, then it could only mean one thing. THE MEN ARE GUILTY. But having once owned a flower shop, there are 1001 reasons to buy flowers. But I can also now conclude that there will be some men who will be more romantic than others, or your own spouse.

I will kill the next person who thinks white men are more romantic than our local Chinese men. But I sometimes blame the ladies for being a scrooge or maybe we are a more practical lot and we know money are hard earned and one should never waste them on things that wouldn't last. And so the men took it literally. So they would tell their men not to buy them flowers yet they all become green-eyed monsters when the secretary gets a bunch of striking red roses that adorn her desk for 3 days before they turn brown and floppy. Some men are just born to romance. They have a way to make the girls go weak and some girls just falls hopelessly in love, and get haplessly hurt when things go wrong. Although I wouldn't mind getting flowers on a dull day at work, I think I would be too stunned to get flowers that I'd be attention deficit and would just gawk at the flowers and not get back on task. But I think if I'd ever get a bunch, it'll probably be a sorry bouquet cuz my husband and I are past that stage. We don't need such outward declaration of love. Making me a cup of coffee, buying the weekend papers, sending me to work on a rainy day does it for me. The honeymoon is over but we are now going on a long haul.

I told my husband before we got married, Love Me As A Package. You can't pick and choose. I wasn't pimply, I had an ok face, I wasn't too short, too tall, but too bad I don't have Cameron Diaz legs or Scarlett Johansson's bosoms. Take it or leave it. I also accepted him for who he was. A Mr Nice Guy, an ok face, wasn't too short nor too tall, no six packs or a Calvin Klein underwear model wannabe. Personality and sense of humour goes a longer way. Someone told me to invest more time with my spouse than my children. Radical but I think this person has a point. Once our parental duties diminish, you are going to be stuck with this person till death do us part. People generally scratch the surface of things. Oh look at Mr Jones, so romantic, always this and that. But is Mr Jones the kind that would take your mother out. Be thankful your man loves your mum like his own. How he treats his mum and yours, he will love you just the same. Just look around, there's some truth. But there's a thin line bewteen loving your mum and being tied to her apron string. Subtle difference but we all know that can be catastrophic. I have boys and I know I want to be tied to my boys for as long as I live. We just have to know when to let go.

Do we marry our soulmates, one will never know till the very end. My parents are always on each other's nerves, yet they are together for over 40 years. They have gotten used to each other habits, good and bad. Mum tells me Dad drives her crazy, I would reply to her that that was the very reason she chose to marry him!!! I will continue to pick my husband's dirty socks, rearrange his wardrobe cuz he will continue to pull his favourite tee-shirt from the bottom of the pile and messes up. He will disapprovingly put my towel back on the bathroom towel rack, remove the shells from prawns so my fingers remain clean, rescue me from bus stops during heavy downpours cuz I hate carrying umbrellas. Nobody does it better than the one we marry. Its simply loving unconditionally.

Nevermind if you don't bring me flowers, just bring back a tub of ice cream on the way back from the petrol station. The next time you wish to surprise your spouse, cook her a meal instead. Poor culinary skills? Go to a hawker centre western food joint, take away and rearrange your chicken chop on your own plate, steal some tea lights from her stash, bingo, you got your instant DIY for cheats. If you really need flowers, a single 60 cents stalk from the market has the same effect as a $60 bouquet. Or even better, give her a foot rub, hold her so close and tell her how much you love her. Who needs flowers?

...Happy belated Anniversary dear, btw you owe me 13 stalks....one for each year we have been married...