Caitlin’s English has been pretty good all her almost-7-years life. Thanks mostly to us speaking to her with it, TV and the kiddie movies, and also to an extent the podcasts and online games she plays (no, not those you are thinking- these are just the simple Disney ones / online-extensions of the TV-channel programs).

So when she was here in Melbourne and whenever we went out, I’d try and get her to speak to some people- such as asking for directions, ordering food, etc.

She was apprehensive.

I guess she is aware that she is in another country, in a place where English is generally the first language of the locals.

As a parent I have kinda been conscious to not highlight too much to my kids the difference between people. Sure, in her studies they are already taught the differences between races- Yes, seriously. But I guess Grandma has also been “prepping” her for her journey here, that perhaps she may not be able to understand the Aussie accent, and maybe even that she should learn to speak proper English.

I may be wrong, but I think if Grandma had in fact been doing this, it may have had an adverse effect- the apprehension in Caitlin now.

She clearly did not want to interact. Sure she may not have been as brave in KL but I think she was especially apprehensive here. At one time we were in a local hypermart store and she wanted to check out some toys. I asked her to ask the staff where the toy section is. She blatantly did not want to try. She even offered me: “I don’t understand what they are talking about!”

Back home after shopping, in trying to ease her worries, I thought of this: Since their arrival I had left the TV on ABC’s kids channel. Here they air as much local content as possible. I asked her a simple question: “Do you know and understand what the real people (and sometimes the animated characters) are saying?”

Her answer was a quick and simple Yes.

“So then who said you don’t understand Australian English?”

Tina Fey’s prayer for her daughter

First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her
When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels.

What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.

“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.

Source: Bossypants

Caitlin is of a certain intellect already. We “connect” as we talk about stuff- and we can do that just by sitting down, in the car, at the table, and lately, over the internet on Skype. In fact with this latest medium, we also type messages to each other whilst I coach her on spelling them

Caleb however, is not at that level of intellect yet. We don’t “talk” per se- we play together. Though he understands stuff that is being said to him, he is still distracted by physical, tangible, more touch-sensory perception of the world and people around him than about to sit down and talk.

And so, he doesn’t miss me, not as much as his jie-jie does.

This was evident tonight. I got a message on my iPhone’s chat program from Caitlin, asking me to get on Skype to videochat, peppered with emoticons that she has recently taken to giggle at

And so we did, like usual, hearing and seeing each other on screen.

While talking to Caitlin and Hot Mummee for a while I saw Caleb in the background of the video chat. HM asked him to come talk to Daddee.

He didn’t want to.

I don’t blame him. There is no fun, at his level of intellect, to talk to Daddee in a window in the computer screen. There is no play involved like how it was with physical-Daddee; like how I’d play with his toys with him, kick the ball around with him, goof around with him.

I have said before that he will grow to not know his Daddee if we don’t hurry along our plans. This is perhaps the first step down that path.

I don’t have much time left.

I have studied, lived and worked in Australia before. I grew up in Malaysia, and spent my developing late-teen years here.

In individualistic ways, I am a minority. Having obtained secondary and tertiary education here and having worked on both shores put me a unique position- of outlook, experience, cultural and language backgrounds. These are perhaps the qualities that past immigration policies stressed on when they look at multicultural policies and also during attempts to address the skills shortage and its ageing population, in the competitive (now comparative?) global markets.

But I am not getting into politics here.

I can therefore speak a few languages and Chinese dialects as a result- I always tell people that one of the “given” advantages of an ethnic Chinese growing up in an Asian city is that one would automatically pick up at least one dialect. In KL it is the widely spoken Cantonese, Penang would be the local flavour of Hokkien, Malacca would be Mandarin, etc., without actually needing to attend a vernacular school (but which I did- thanks mum In Singapore ethnic kids are required to also take on their respective mother-tongue as a language subject, on top of English.

But as you have rightly guessed, I am now wondering what my children will be like when they are growing up here, eventually.

In a lot of ways, I don’t want them to be “typical”. Not using myself as a model, I do wish for them to be upstanding unique citizens. I know all parents want these for their kids too, but if you take me and HM in this context- we are different in the local context; and I am looking at this in an optimistic light.

But what about the kids? They are still young, and will still be when they move here and be just another “product” of the local system.

Of course, this is almost-literally two sides of the same coin: They too would be a product of that system over there.

So then we come back to the original question: Am I doing the right thing for the kids? Am I doing this for selfish reasons of my own preference for wanting to live here, and thus “dragging” them along without the maturity and knowledge to offer their own opinions and preference too?

At this stage I can only offer that what will shape them to be un-typical would be our methods and values in raising them in the local environment. Yes I am generalising here, but I would wonder how many (“young”? parents out there have the kinds of background that HM and I have? A few, but not many, I would think.

And if I sound arrogant, I am not. I am looking out for my kids given what tools I have for this job.

Games, or apps for that matter, usually get updated by the developers. Either to add in new features, bug fixes, to be more updated; in particular with games, new scenes or characters would be added. With the zoo game that Caitlin plays, I have seen new animals and rangers being added when they are updated.

So now that I am away from home I have removed most of the games that were on the iPhone. For that matter I have also removed some of the security features- there were a few times when Caleb had unintentionally deleted my apps and info; he didn’t know better, of course.

So now when I check for updates of my apps, some of these installed games would indicate that there are updates available.

I don’t update them now.

And I kinda feel guilty, and sad.

Guilty because, even though they are games- I only install educational games or at least non-violent games; they do teach something to the kids. Hand-eye coordination, math games, basic strategies (the zoo management game), or simply interacting with “tools” that will become even bigger parts of their adult lives compared to us now. Guilty because I have taken away this opportunity/”toy” away from them.

And sad. I miss them.

In my dream I could recall real-life memories of skyping with my kids. I could recall the blurry image of them in the chat window, how I could still make out Caitlin’s missing two front teeth.

Then, still in that dream and with that “knowledge” or memory, I approached the Caitlin in my dream.

She was already a grown teenager, my height, bearing a full set of adult teeth. She was also dressed in her school uniform. She didn’t speak, just smiled lots.

Typical of my dreams (that I could at least remember) I was running around a lot, asking what’s-this/what’s-going-on questions. Particularly (mainly because I didn’t see anyone else) asking Hot Mummee this. She nonchalantly ignored me/my questions, went about her usual staring at her laptop. I recall I kept saying “But she was always only this tall”, holding my hand to my sternum, palm down. In the dream I even asked HM if Caitlin had even gone through puberty yet.

Cut to another scene; you know how dreams are.

There was me, the current-sized Caleb, and one other character in the foreground. We were near an open window.

Caleb proceeded to swiftly walk-climb to the open window, and fell out!

I peered out over the ledge; it was only a ground floor window, and he was faced down in a drain.

Cut to the next scene I was already outside. I picked him up, and sat him on the ledge of a flowerbox wall next to the drain. He was sobbing quietly. “Where ouch-ouch?” I asked, brushing dirt off his body. He points to a few joints here and there.

Then I woke up.

They say you can really only remember the last dream you had just before waking, forgetting the earlier dreams you have had from your whole sleep.

I think there are obvious underlying themes here, in my current conscious state of mind.. :-/

Caitlin has completed her pre-school. How it only seemed like yesterday, when she started with them 3 years ago now; and she will be starting primary schooling- Standard (or year) 1 come January 2011.

She’s been attending their orientation for the last 3 weeks; at the good suggestion from the vernacular Mandarin-based school. I still chuckle at the suggestion-letter, stating that it has been their experience that kids these days are more well versed in non-Mandarin language (especially English for kids today, they said) and find starting school in Chinese medium very tough going. I have seen this myself even some 15 years ago now with my nieces and nephews, with their parents saying their teachers were commenting how their kids would space-out in class, due to non-comprehending what was going on and thus getting bored.

Lucky for us, we had enrolled Caitlin in Chinese medium at the last 2 years of this preschool, which has helped tremendously. From what I can tell she has handled this orientation quite well. I think she will do fine when school starts. It’s when they start getting serious that I worry if she can cope with the workload.

Caleb’s vocabulary has improved tremendously this year too. It’s only in the last few months that he has started articulating his words more audibly. That’s not to say it is as good as Caitlin’s when she was his age, but at least for me I can understand him better now. Only now that he has started sharing his thoughts, that we realised that he is actually also quite a keen observer- noting road directions and asking why we aren’t going to a known destination because it’s a different road we are on. His hand eye coordination is definitely way better than Caitlin’s, although both seem to do quite well when it comes to console-type games. On this last one, they are true synonyms of “What latest technology?” (I read about a report with the interviewer, in commenting on how fast tech is moving, asked what kids thought about the “latest technologies”.) The “oldest” tech that these guys are still using may well be the DVD player. No wait, Hot Mummee’s recording of anime still uses the old VCR; at least they are still exposed to “tapes”

I suppose Caitlin demonstrates that girls do grow up (mature) faster. She’s been playing this game on managing a zoo quite well, with me giving some guidance (not that I am a finance / budget guru!) on saving for the future (of buying more land (zoo expansion), new animals and other zoo facilities. As compared to Caleb, Caleb still does not always comprehend the reasonings we give him on why he can / cannot do certain things. I also watched some doco about how or when kids start showing empathy…. Now that I think about it, he could just be cunning in pretending he doesn’t understand this and gets away with it “because he’s still little”!

One big thing that we are still grappling with is that they both must learn to share. Their constant arguments and almost-physical fights are a real worry and annoyance for all concerned. From what I hear and understand about maturity, this is something to “look forward to” for more years to come…

Caitlin has just turned 6, and Caleb will turn 3 in January 2011.

Boys mature slower than girls. This is quite evident; individual personalities and characters aside.

When Hot Mummee was pregnant the first time, I had quietly wished that our first one would a boy. This isn’t a tightly-held preference, just thought it’d be good to have a big brother to the rest of the brood. Of course when Caitlin was born, I love her just the same.

And as she grew, we’ve been enjoying her growing years and all the usual toddler antics that you know comes with children. A lot of fun and treasured memories there

Now that we have Caleb with us too, and with the 3 year gap, I find myself quite often comparing the kids. Not in bad ways of why-cant’-you-be-like-Caitlin complaints, just the wonders-of-human and how everyone is different types of observations.

Most recent of these are how when Caitlin was Caleb’s age now, she was already very independent. I had modified her cot so that she was already getting in and out of her “bed” by herself- how I enjoyed watching her little cute toddler body climb limb over one another in her mini pyjamas with the bed. She was also toilet trained very early. I remember giving her praises in the mornings when I changed her to find her diapers dry. These days I am still reprimanding Caleb when he pees in his pants. I do sing praises too when he urgently tells me he needs to pee, and, while on the toilet seat he would exclaim “No piak-piak right dad?” (No spanking right dad?)

So with Caitlin- girls, generally growing faster, I find myself noting that even with the 3 year gap that it is beyond that “measure” in terms of the gap between these 2 monkeys: That they are more than 3 years apart in terms of intellect, skills, maturity, etc. Though I correct myself in that Caleb is a lot more advanced even for his own age with his motor skills in the sports department. He’s still a happy-go-lucky kid while his jie-jie has already entered the age of moodiness. She is also starting to enjoy older things, sometimes citing “so booriiing” statements typical of older kids on younger ones.

So then I started wondering what things would be like if indeed we had a boy first, and then a girl. Would the “gap” be smaller than 3 years, in terms of their maturity? Would they actually get along better than present differences, because they are possibly closer in maturity levels?

They said I have a good swing, only it lacked the whip of the wrist, that my swing is too rounded and even. Otherwise, I do “feel” it too that the swing is not-bad

I think I can now justifiable use that on Caleb.

Earlier this year, probably not long after his 2nd birthday, we were already kicking a miniature basketball around inside the house. Caitlin, by comparison, sometimes still misses kicking the stationary ball, let alone decide which direction the ball will roll!

Caleb has always been able to center the ball, in terms of placing it squarely infront of him, and then actually kicking it straight to me. Not a bad feat for a kid his age; even my older brother (who is quite athletic himself during his day!) says so.

This morning, while waiting for lunch to be ready, we were again kicking the ball around in the living room. I decided instead of the usual to-and-froing, that I’d mark him soccer style.

Ball steals left and right, getting him to dodge in the same directions half a second later only to find the ball missing, and chasing after Daddee who is dribbling the ball away. Mind you for a 2.5 year old this is all new tricks for him to see and observe. At least it was all giggles and not cries of having the ball marked and stolen from him.

A short 10 minutes or so later old-man Daddee already had to sit down. But what does he find Caleb doing?

He is actually dribbling soccer-style behind the ball! The kid’s actually picked it up from just 10 minutes before!

Granted the living room isn’t very big, but he’s managed consistently to maintain just behind the ball, toe-tapping it 2-3 times as he ran after it before reaching the end of the living room, reposition, and start again the opposite direction!

Maybe I should expose him to golf next, and let him turn pro! Nothing wrong with soccer, just that as a professional career golf is a lot longer! This Daddee can be his manager and go on tour with him!

Oh, and yes- those are still his water-proof training pants!

It’s not because she is my daughter, my own offspring. But this trait does make me rather secretly proud of her; that my own kid has this trait that I don’t think I had- have even, as an adult.

Already from the very early days of starting school she has exhibited a sense of steadiness by marching off to a duty expected of her. I am not talking about expectations of a child, I am talking about going off to face or attend to something unfamiliar.

From day one till now, she is my daughter in the car on the way to school. Upon reaching the school, she switches into- I might even call it- a “professional” mode. All serious and “business-like”. I always get out the car with her too, get her bag from the boot, and help her put it on on her side of the car. We’d then hug, where I’d say something like have a good day; see you tonite, etc. She’d be in her mode already: “Bye Daddee..” and turn to walk off towards the doors of the school, away from me, pony tail swinging side to side, without any need to look back toward me.

Personal time is over, time for the other face- the business face.

So far that’s been true. From the first day at school, first day at her extra curricular classes, her home tuition, going up to the waitress or distant relative asking for something. Okay maybe not so much those latter parts, but she does still go ahead majority of the time as we insist she does, when she is the one with a need (greeting her elders voluntarily, is another matter- of courtesy and manners

I am writing this as I wait for her to finish her art class; an extra-curricular activity which she enjoys. I did the same upon reaching the venue. “Bye Daddee” and off she went, going about getting things started (looking for her pad, getting and laying out old newspapers on the table).

I like it. It somewhat shows she is not needy, she knows (hopefully) that there is a difference between play and work, a time to be serious and a time to not be; at least in public in these contexts. I don’t think she is embarrassed to be seen hugging me (to then cut it short), but the above.

Wait till she is reaching her teens, I hear you say. Yes I know

I can’t say professionally I am of that “calibre”. I hope when her time(s) comes she will not be as wobbly-kneed as I sometimes still am when I’m about to meet some important people, for work or social

This was from Caitlin’s doctor’s set

Not that we minded the idea. Back then we only loathed about what the likely quality of basic amenities would be like. After all, there were stories of toilets with no doors, toilets with no toilets but a hole in the ground. Somehow it never eventuated.

Through the years, the kids (my nephews and nieces) grew, and my parents have also continued keeping in contact with his relatives (well, they are mine too). They too have made visit(s?) here (but I was away studying/living in Adelaide at the time). A recent idea my dad had was to contribute toward a memorial of his ancestors, to keep the roots alive.

Recently, that idea came to fruition. And what better timing to also time the visit to the completed site with bringing the family there as well.

We had spent the week leading to, and including Christmas Day 2009, in Xiamen China. Xiamen city is only about 2-3 hours bus ride to the village, so it isn’t like a real trek too deep into China (please mind my poor knowledge of Chinese geography). That has worked out quite well all this time for my parents, making it easy for them to visit our relatives all these years.

My dad organised a tour group for this visit- which was actually just us, the whole 29 of us! It was a fun time for all as there were no outsiders and we were as our usual silly-carefree selves

I can’t say there was a sense of belonging, personally. After all, we were all born in and grew up in Malaysia. As a father I reckon my dad feels some form of achievement in finally bringing his own children together to see his birthplace, to see where we are from, his and our roots, connect with some distant blood relatives, and his contribution back to the community when he left with his father to seek, and found, a better life in distant shores. He had done well for himself with very humble beginnings, and by extension my generation (and later) are now a lot better off comparatively.

Take away the brick houses beside and behind this structure, and you have the house in which my father was born.

My grandfather built this house in the ’60′s apparently after the ethnic unrest in Indonesia, fearing the same for Malaya/Malaysia, with intention to bring everyone back to China to live in this bigger house.

This is (almost) everyone, infront of the “shrine” cum community hall that my dad funded and built

For Caitlin, at 5 years old I don’t think this will be a lasting impression. Ideologies of family ties is too mature for her. She will remember the some of the places we visited, and the fun with the cousins. She probably won’t remember how cold it was; she may remember what she wore; but she’s worn that same jacket before elsewhere.

One thing I’ve been saying to people who asked what I thought about my first visit to China is: “We were on the bus, driving through very long tunnels, to emerge to drive on long bridges.” I was rather awed by the landscape- it’s one thing to read about it and watch it on tv, but it’s another to see the natural landscape: mountains and valleys. Also, the technology deployed in this developing country is actually also more advanced than Malaysia. Tunnels bored through these mountains; long tunnels, and impressive world class bridges to carry you further. The highways are also multi-tiered, criss-crossing each other at higher and higher levels.

It is a big big country, there are uneven developments everywhere. I personally only saw 3 beggars on the street, only in Xiamen city; 2 of whom are disabled, the 3rd looked able-bodied but with a toddler probably 2-3 years old.

More pictures here:

• My brother’s photo collection on flickr
• Mine

My parents are moving to a new gated community along with my two older brothers. What is significant; I guess not just for me, is that our parents have been living in this house since 1984, when it was renovated, and since 1975 on that same plot of land.

Yes, a lot of memories surrounding this house.

• I learned how to cycle there
• I chilled at the kitchen’s breakfast counter watching the A-Team/Airwolf when mum was teaching yoga upstairs
• The same breakfast counter I had cereals before school
• The same house where our beloved Alsation grew up and grew old and died
• All the kids had their wedding ceremonies there
• All the Chinese new years
• Nieces and nephews’ first steps
• I had a birthday party there where my high school crush came
• It was home when I returned for holidays whilst studying in Australia
• It was home.

Anyway

I was there last weekend helping pack my accumulated junk since teenage years. Caitlin came along too; Caleb didn’t because of the impending mess that comes with moving. Naturally she questioned EVERYTHING she saw. She saw the birthday cards from high school girl-friends. She saw some of my obsolete computer hardware. She saw some of my cassettes of 80′s pop music (to avoid embarrassment I wont cite who they were!)

Today I wasn’t there for the “official” move (according to the Chinese lunar calendar today is a good day). But this weekend will likely be the last time i get to set foot in that house when the trucks ferry off the last remaining personal items.

I took this shot of Caitlin helping remove and sort out some really old photos from a 50+ years old album, of my parents’ dating days, and also baby pics of my older siblings!

Father’s Day isn’t really a big thing in my own family, but it is a little bigger in Hot Mummee’s (not a major thing, just bigger than mine).

Since we usually spend our weekends at my parents’ place (my kids rarely get to see them during the week), today we had dinner at HM’s with steamed and fried crab, along with some other yummy foods. But the highlight was a inhouse photo session earlier in the afternoon at my parents’.

I think I have shared before that my older brother has been bitten by the photography bug since just before Caleb was born, which means it’s been about 18-19 months now that he’s really been into photography. He’s taken a lot great shots while professing that he’s still got lots to learn. He’s also shared before that he should have started this hobby years ago, cos he’s lost all those opportune times of shooting his own kids as they were growing.

So, whenever the opportunity arises, he’d like to help me shoot my kids; since I don’t have the (finances!) gear that really snaps really good photos. He’s also been investing in flashes, and have started experimenting with mood-creations by playing with the different lighting conditions.

Such was this afternoon’s highlight. HM was out at the hair salon, the helper was at our places doing the weekly clean, and I was left doing all of: Looking after the 2 kids, help directing Caitlin in the photo shoots, holding the (remote) camera flashes or reflectors to get good light, making sure Caleb wasn’t in the way / in the shots / annoying his uncle, and getting fed!

These are two of what he’s taken. I have the rest put away as timeless treasures now.

That sewing machine, mum had only mentioned this afternoon that one of the mechanisms had lasted over 50 years, before it needed replacing, and the new part didn’t even last a year. The same was for the “belt” that is attached from the foot pedal, that turns that wheel you see, which drives the sewing needle.

Yes, she’s had that for over 50 years. Her mum had taught her how to sew, and my mum’s first “job” was actually sewing, when she was only reaching her early teens (she didn’t go on to secondary school).

The first pair I got before we had kids. It’s rather fancy in that it’s a wire framed one and therefore rather fragile. The second pair I got probably 2 years ago, from a golf shop. It’s the polarised type, for rough use like driving and walking about. It’s cheap-ish, under RM100. Personally I prefer the polarised ones because it’s actually a lot clearer and more “contrast” in AV speak, if I can even describe it this way.

Recently the second pair cracked at the frame above the lens (no it’s not in 2 pieces, bottom part of frame is still holding it together). It’s likely due to wear and tear- I do after all put it on the top of my head often. I super-glued it, and it was okay till a few days ago when I heard the same snap at the same place, and on top of my head too

So I found myself contemplating a new pair, while still “preserving” the first wire-frame pair. I can’t really say why other than the fact that it’s too fragile for my regular use. Okay, I do subscribe to retail therapy too!

Caitlin is at the age now where she is asking for stuff. Stuff that she sees on tv, while shopping, stuff that her peers in school has. Sometimes it’s new things, sometimes it’s new things of stuff she already has, justifying it by saying her younger brother can have the hand-me-down. Only last night she said she would like a new doll, the one that poops (!) I asked what about her current one. She says Caleb can have that one. She probably learned about hand me downs when, among other things, she’s seen and knows that Caleb wears her older pj’s, especially when we joke about her/his pink ones!

So, when I have the chance and when she brings it up, I explain to her that there are things we don’t always need, or need new ones of. Trying to teach her the concept of trade-offs, that if you save now you may be able to afford something else later, or that if you spend it now, you’d have less of “money” left for other possibly more important things.

99% of the time she accepts the explanation. We do get her new things when we feel like she needs a pamper or that something indeed does replacing. Lucky for us so far she is quite easy to please. So long as it’s a new something, she is happy- examples are new toothbrush or toothpaste! Or even a doorgift from some conference I attended, or a McD toy.

Anyway.

So while the rough-use pair of sunglasses is sitting at home waiting for me to retry and stick back together, I took out the wire-frame to wear while driving. 4year olds are actually quite observant creatures. While I quipped when the second pair cracked, she knew and suggested i glue it back together. She also knew I did so, and that I was waiting for it to dry.

So when she saw the wire-frame, she asked where it came from. I had to tell her that I owned 2 pairs.

If she was smarter or older, I would have left myself open to a trap of “How come you have 2 (of the same thing)?? Daddee???”

I can’t remember how I got out of that one, but I didn’t have to justify myself. I think she had just accepted it- lucky for me.

So now, I know I can’t go get myself another pair- spend money like I used to before marriage and kids. Before, because these are not big ticket things, I wouldn’t really hesitate much. but now, because as all parents know, we are constantly being watched as examples, I know I gotta practise what I preach.

How have you been teaching your kids about money?