So we had Caitlin first before we had Caleb. It’s a 3 year 2 months gap between them.

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?

That’s a description I had heard my bothers describe of me earlier, when i was fooling around and followed them to the driving range one evening.

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!

I do. At my 5 year old daughter.

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

Brain? Heart? Plastic?

This was from Caitlin’s doctor’s set

My dad’s talked about this since the early 90′s: Of bringing the whole extended family for a visit to his hometown (more like village).

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

This, and last week, were quite significant for me.

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!

How did I spend it?

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).

I have always had 2 pairs of sunglasses. They both live in my car, naturally, for driving.

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?

I wonder if this happens in other cultures / countries.

Taken from today’s The Star list of popular articles.

Sex affair just to spite parents
By ANDREW SAGAYAM

KUALA LUMPUR: More underage girls are having sex to get back at their parents for neglecting them.

This startling information was revealed by police who said that the girls had initially claimed they were raped but later admitted to have consented to sex with their boyfriends.

Statistics compiled since 2005 showed that the number of girls below 16 years old who are sexually active has been increasing every year.

The study also revealed that an alarming 60% of girls between the ages of 13 and 15 had sex because they “wanted revenge” on their parents. Sex with a girl aged under 16 is classified as statutory rape under the Penal Code.

The girls, largely from urban areas, confessed that they had befriended men as they were angry with their parents for subjecting them to emotional and physical “abuse”.

While some had sex with men just to get back at their parents, others were coerced into it by the very men they had turned to for solace, said Asst Comm Suguram Bibi Munshi Deen, head of the Sexual Abuse and Children’s Division at Bukit Aman.

Noting that teen rape had risen since 2005, she said that the victims – mostly from cities and major towns in Selangor, Johor and Kedah – usually ended up pregnant.

“We are not pointing a finger or exposing the private lives of families but the public must realise what is happening,” said ACP Suguram Bibi.

“Children, teenagers and youths are our future leaders and we as adults, parents or guardians must guide and instil in them right and proper values.”

Statistics from 2005 to 2008 showed 75% of the rape victims were below 18 years old and at least 60% of the girls were below 16. Boys below 18 made up between 8.4% and 13.6% of the “rapists”.

The study also showed that teenagers got bored easily, craved attention or wanted the freedom to express themselves.

ACP Suguram Bibi said parents should educate sons to respect the opposite sex and not take advantage of them.

“We also found that some boys were challenged by their peers and forced to commit sex acts to prove that he was one of the gang and to stop being ridiculed.”

She advised parents to understand the law better and welcomed inquiries from anyone on investigation procedures in sexual assault cases.

While I have always thought and advocated being your (my) children’s good friends rather than being too much of a parent to them, I do recall coming across an article not that long ago saying that befriending one’s child is (still) not a good idea.

I can’t remember the reasons, but I think it was something like: with parenting comes more discipline (than being friends).

Okay, let’s just say then that it should be a mix of the two, that it’s still parenting but that the kids should still feel they can trust me enough to confide in me, that they won’t worry about being implicated / reprimanded for approaching me.

I am of this position because I wasn’t really “friends” with my own parents. Don’t get me wrong they are good parents; just that I felt I couldn’t confide in them. And now that I am a parent and would like to be involved with what my kids do, I want to be involved, at least in the know, of their thought process and patterns, and at least be in the position to be able to advise them of decisions.

What do you put in place when your kids are growing (in whatever age bracket) for both boys and girls in the family?

From all my previous boasts about how Caitlin never looked back since starting school, I was suddenly defeated when I heard her utter these words this week. This being only the 3rd week of school this year.

This is her second year of schooling. The whole of last year was pretty much trouble free, sans the to-be-expected comments raised during parent-teacher meetings about how noisy or chatty Caitlin can be in class! Except for a few incidents, she had generally enjoyed school, the teachers and friends.

I think she first said this to me on Wednesday night, but not really “a real issue” type of urgency. It was the first I had heard of it, but thought I had managed to convince her to go anyway, thinking perhaps it was just grumpiness due to lack of sleep in the mornings.

She did offer something in this conversation. She said something about not liking Teacher Ann and Teacher Rachel coming in and out of the classroom. Teacher Rachel is the home teacher. They’d be swapping / changing over teachers between subjects, but Teacher Ann would be teaching English (and I think Bahasa) whilst Teacher Rachel would cover everything else.

Then she said it again on Thursday night, sounding a little more urgent. This conversation was a little challenging, she was just refusing to agree to go. Offers of seeing friends at school, new things to learn, etc, didn’t seem to go down at all.

Friday morning came and it got more urgent. She was pleading not wanting to go. I think it was when I was beside her blow-drying my hair (don’t laugh- drying after a shower, not styling, okay?) while she was getting her hair pleated by our domestic helper that she said something about Teacher Ann scolded her, being fierce, don’t know how to do the English, lizard and library.

Piecing it together, she started not liking school because of Teacher Ann. Apparently Teacher Ann’s style is that of loud and fierce, which I guess Caitlin isn’t used to.

Friday morning in car I said to Caitlin that I’d speak to Teacher Rachel. I tried being careful not letting Caitlin get the impression that I was going to change anything- kids should get used to “fierce” teachers, especially with our plans for her to attend Chinese school (notorious for such teachers), and also that the should be put into stressful environs to learn how to deal with it.

Stopped the car, helped her exit the car, and went to see Teacher Rachel, who is on duty to greet the kids at the road. Caitlin hung around, making sure I did talk to Teacher Rachel.

In Mandarin we chatted. I asked if there was anything in class that may contribute towards Caitlin’s hesitation to attend school- a bully perhaps, a fierce teacher. Initially she shared that she too felt a similar sentiment from earlier in the week; there was a few times at the teacher-change over that Caitlin went to her and asked to go home. I asked what Teacher Ann’s style was, again being careful not to criticise; which I wasn’t- I just needed to ascertain the cause of her hesitation. Teacher Rachel then thought and offered a “you know you could be right” answer. I reiterated that I wasn’t asking teachers to change their styles; I just wanted to know if that was the only factor.

The lesson for me? That what I read about kids generally avoiding something has all to do with some bad (ongoing) experience from it. The challenge is trying to “pry” it out of them, to get to the source of it.

The following is the picture I was taking, when I was talking to Caitlin about indecently exposing oneself and being aware of molestations.

Looking and touching the burn site now, it feels almost like regular skin. I still don’t probe it very much, fearing that it may still be tender for her and inadvertently hurting her. But as far as I can tell she is okay now. There is still a small speck of scab, but it is not much bigger than what you’d get from scratching a mozzie bite.

Upon closer inspection there are small areas that do look slightly “more severe” in that it has a slightly lighter pigmentation, with a very light tinge of gloss- typical of scar from a cut.

So now the whole area is looking like this.

And I reckon it is time to look into the various creams, gels, applications, etc, that are available on the market as treatment for reducing visible scarring.

The above link to Wikipedia also included a list of treatments, with Mederma list at the top. It had this description:

Mederma- Contains allium cepa, and many other ingredients, i used it on cheek piercings that started to go crazy, it cleared them up, so in the case of piercings mederma definetly works and is way cheaper than other methods.

It would probably also be the cheapest from Guardian pharmacy’s shelves too, seeing as the other ones I saw there were in forms of patches of wrong sizes (too small).

Based on the photo, think I can start looking at these treatments?

A girl’s entitled to wearing mini skirts proudly!

Spotted this blog post / photo and agreed whole-heartedly with the comment….

“That of all the heaps of congratulations our new president will get today, as a father, nothing will probably mean more to him than this.”

AP photo by Susan Walsh from www.chicagotribune.com

Now there’s a title that will get the spam bots excited!

Last night, I was going to photo-document Caitlin’s thigh’s healing, to capture the pink patch now that all the brown dried skin has fallen off, to share with you here. I had already taken a shot of when those bits were just starting to fall off.

In that first photo session, I had asked her to put her hand where it was (in that shot mentioned above). While going to take this second shot, we were on the bed and she was a little cheeky wanting to lie down; effectively she couldn’t reach / place her hand strategically as instructed.

I asked her to sit up, put her hand where it would cover the bits; mentioning that it’s rude to take photos of one’s private parts.

“Private … what?”

“Private parts”, implying the bits.

She contemplated for a while. She already knows the implications of the bits, in that she does get quite squirmy about whom she allows to help her wash them. She only didn’t know how to refer to the concept of the private parts.

This morning in the car ride to school, not surprisingly she brings up a conversation she had from some time back. This time it was from our chat last night.

“Praaaiiiiii… what did you call it again, Daddee?”

“Private parts.”

I don’t know why I continued further after reiterating the “rudeness” of being photographed: That if anyone touches her private parts also, to tell Daddee.

Specifically, I said only Mummee, Daddee, both Grandma’s, Dr Pixie, and our domestic helper are allowed to touch her private parts, and even then it was only to help her wash her bits. Dr Pixie is an exception, cos she’s a doctor- she’s allowed to touch because she is helping look after us.

I am pretty sure she got it. I am also pretty sure she will even repeat this to, say, her (female) teachers, if they were to try and help her wash up after a visit; but which she tells me they don’t (help) anyway.

She did also ask what I’d do with the people who did touch her private parts. Trust a 4 year old to probe further! Other than beating the crap out of them, I decided to only offer that I’d tell the police. She asked further; but we kinda agreed that somehow the perpetrator would be visiting the police station with me somewhat voluntarily!

I hadn’t planned on broaching this subject this early; I hadn’t thought about it actually. But since it came up, and that she was likely to be able to comprehend anyways; which she did, I think this topic went down well.

Don’t you think?

At school only this week; Monday (blues) in fact.
Grandma and Hot Mummee dropped by to settle some issues with Caitlin’s schooling.

The school had suggested we check out a neighbouring suburb’s franchise which is offering the Pre-2 Chinese medium, that we could transfer Caitlin to that school if we choose to.

After “spying” on that school / class and knowing that they still conversed in English in that class (whereas the present one they speak in Mandarin fully), the two ladies decided to let Caitlin remain.

After informing the principal of the decision, the two ladies were in the vicinity of Caitlin’s ongoing class.

Hot Mummee’s remark to me that night was something like this:
“.. she’s actually quite disciplined…”
“.. she saw us from the class, and only smiled and waved a little wave. She didn’t run out crying “I want Mummee…” or anything like that ..”
“.. she was even behaving when the class was let out to wash their hands; not recess time yet. It was only on Grandma’s insistence that she came over for a hug, and one for Mummee too..”

Reminds me of her first day at school. Walked straight in. Never looked back.

Recent scalding accident
Despite the I-can-only-imagine pain from the accident, she’s actually been quite steady about the whole thing. Sure, she was sobby on the same night, being “banished” from her usual arrangement to sleep in the other room / bed cos of the medication / cream (we did keep her company). But she didn’t really complain.

The next days she was very conscious of the burn site, heeding our advise to watch our for small accidents that may rupture the blister. She had to wear only shorts, folding up the right leg to keep it exposed / uncovered, being very careful when going to the toilet. She walks with a limp, right hand holding up the folded shorts; which we are not sure if it’s put on or that it does sting from the impact of foot / leg connecting with the ground. In any case it was quite amusing / cute / heart wrenching to see this.

Other than these physical quirkiness, she was / is her usual happy-go-lucky self.

Update on the scald site
This morning after she was ready for school, I applied the SSD again. This is the second time she exclaimed it was ticklish rather than painful; I think the first ticklish time was last night but she still say it hurt.

It also felt harder, like soft scabby, under the pad of my finger. Meaning the site is no longer raw. Which to me is good news.

There are a few things in life that you kinda expect to happen to you; and when you are a parent- to your children.

You expect them to fall down once a while.
You expect them to get hurt once a while.
You expect them to get a bump on the head, a cut there, a bruise here.

But you don’t expect them to be scalded.

At dinner tonite, Grandma was serving up dinner. Caitlin was seated already next to me, at the far side of the table against the doorway into the dining area. Grandma was coming in with bowls of hot soup. She makes them really hot. She reached forward to put a bowl down infront of Caitlin for her, and it slipped out of her hand, away from her, towards Caitlin.

Without really thinking I made the mistake of trying to sweep away the soup from her lap; thinking to remove the hot element from skin.
Grandma comes in to carry her off the wet seat.
I went to get some cloth- anything, to wet with cold water to put over the area.
Grandma says NO.
By which time Mummee was rushing down after hearing the scream. She was shouting DO NOT GET ICE.
My wet cloth was ignored. I could see some peeled skin. It looks like what it’d be like a few days after being sunburnt.
Mummee came with toothpaste, and we all started to spread it over the area.
Caitlin starts to settle.

The old school Chinese old wives way was NOT to encourage quick contraction after a hot expansion. My basic first aid was ignored. We then remembered some ointment bought from China by either grandparents, which had quickly healed the assistant’s hands during the sideshow (more like freakshow) demo, where he applied the ointment immediately after grasping red hot iron bar- don’t ask.

4-5 hours later we are back at our apartment, our regular routine, ready for bed. Mummee’s gentle dabs removed the toothpaste ready for another application of Chinese ointment. Cleared, we could see the damage. Blisters. Multiple of them. Bigger and smaller than peanuts. And the roll of broken skin.

I called Dr Pixie to ask what else we could do other than to air it. She said to go get sulphur silver diazine. It would help with the burn, and it is also antiseptic.

In the conversation I related the whole ordeal, whether it was likely to scar- YES. Provided the blisters aren’t popped during this whole time. but definitely there will be different pigmentation during / after healing.

But I made the worst mistake. I effectively already removed some skin when I swept her lap. It would be those area that is guaranteed to scar; don’t even talk about popping the blisters, I had already effectively done that.

I went to the only 24 hours pharmacy I could think of- Pantai Hospital, not too far from here. Got 60g of the cream, at RM12.40. They call is Flamazine

She is sleeping now with Mummee.

In the coming days these are what I am anticipating:
- her in her school uniform- how do we ensure the area is kept medicated?
- her in her school uniform- how do we ensure she doesn’t get the area accidentally bumped / scraped / pop the blisters?
- her in regular clothes- to remove them to go pee? Who’s gonna help her removal?
- her in bed- same precautions as above?

I feel like shit. I feel much worse actually.