I had intended to have a water birth for my second child.  I diligently attended private ante-natal classes with DH to prepare for the birth.  I had even engaged in a Doula for support (see link for definition - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doula).

But it was not meant to be…..

10 days before delivery

“Alamak babe, got cramps lah, hope its not surges …” This was uttered while in the midst of reading the Sunday papers and sipping my decaffeinated iced mocha at Starbucks outside Pacific Plaza.

One of the few things that I do to develop DS's potential is that I have enrolled him in aesthetics based enrichment classes. Personally, I do not see the need to enroll him in academic based classes as he is so young and at this point of time, and I am more concerned about nurturing his mind, 'creative juices'and instilling a good sense of value system.

He attends Art and Music classes, which he enjoys tremendously and refuses to stop. He is so enthusiastic that his music teacher suggested that he is ready for group keyboard lessons. To me, his enthusiasm is more priceless than anything else. At home, we come up with our own band and play 'rojak' music using his daddy's guitar, djimbe, some musical instruments (from yamaha) I managed to obtain from a forummer here.

NOTE:  This Q and A format has been adapted from Suzanne Choo's and Robert Yeo's 'Sharpening The Senses.'  The text used here is  Animal Farm.

Question: Based on your understanding of the Battle of the Cowshed, what was Snowball’s role in it?

(i) The Introduction

It is advisable to start your answer with a statement that answers the question and states your standpoint.

I agree that different children progress/develope differently.

I started 'psyching' DS when he was 18 mths.  Actually on hindsight, I should have started earlier, when he was able to sit ard 6 mths or so (as per advised by my mom as there would be less resistance encountered), but I didn't want to rush into this. Then, when I felt he was ready, I would talk and show him how 'big people' went to the bathroom to pee pee.  And from the time training started, he began to wear underwear. He was initially resistant when I brought him to the small potty, but I never pushed him.  I left him alone for some time, then tried again at designated times like after he woke up, after breakfast etc ....

But somehow, the children's potty never appealed to him.  He was only able to pee once, thats it.

Then I switched to him pee-ing in the shower area.  He seemed to be comfortable with that.  Then gradually, he graduated to the big potty (with the child seat attached).

There are many underlying issues when someone goes around cutting/mutilating themselves. I used to teach in an all-girls' school. These were my personal observations and experiences:

1. If they were cutting themselves in areas where the scars can be seen for eg on the wrists or palms, then its highly probable that they want to be 'caught' cuz its a way for them to cry out for attention for their suffering.

2. Then there are others who will mutilate their upper arms or their chests where the scars won't be that visible. Most of them use a razor. They usually start off by experimenting and depending on their threshhold of pain initially, it might start of with a superficial cut and as they become bolder, the cuts increase in number and depth.

I am a novice baker. I can cook relatively well but have always shied away from baking. Maybe as opposed to cooking, where you can let your imagination run wild and and come up with your own inventive dish, baking I feel, is more inflexible ie the measurements must be accurate, the mixture must be stirred until to a certain texture etc ... (again I reiterate that I am a novice baker).

I hired a plumber to help me restore an old farmhouse, and after he had just finished a rough first day on the job, a flat tyre made him lose an hour of work, his electric drill quit and his ancient one-ton truck refused to start. While I drove him home, he sat in stony silence.

On arriving he invited me in to meet his family. As we walked towards the front door, he paused briefly at a tree, touching the tips of the tree. When opening the door he underwent an amazing transformation.

His tanned face was wreathed in smiles and he hugged his two small children and gave them a kiss. Afterward he walked me to the car. We passed the tree and my curiosity got the better of me. I asked him about what I had seen him do earlier.