It's a nice seafood restaurant at Turf City. It's outdoor, facing a golf course. So it's windy and we got to face the sky and green land as we dine. As we were eating half way, Berton, in a tone of amusement and seriousness, said
"Look! The sky is blue!"
We looked at the sky, it's really bluer than usual. It's in a nice royal blue. It's really a nice place.
Bevan and Berton upsets each other every 5 minutes - altenate with toys grabbing, difference in opinion, and fighting. Usually ends with Bevan shouting at Berton, and Berton kicking or pinching Bevan.
But when Berton climbs high, Bevan scolds Berton "Berton it's dangerous, come down!". When someone gives Bevan something, Bevan says "Can I have one for me, one for MY BROTHER?" When Berton wakes up and Bevan is not there, he asks "Where is Gege? I want to fellow (follow) Gege." The love is blossoming. They know they are both "Heng Heng" in mandarin.
Berton sends and picks up Bevan from school. They dance, swim, sleep, and bathe together Sometimes, on extremely good days, they kiss and hug each other.
It's really nice to have someone so close, look rather alike, with the same surname, similar names, with same parents and live in the same house, growing up together. It's a kind of connection that I am glad my children have together.
I blogged about a little girl who is fighting against the cancer monter. I tried not to read the blog because it made me feel so heavy and so sad inside. Tonight I clicked on the URL again, hoping to read good news. It has a bit of good news, but it made me cry really bad reading how her mom explained to her about removing the monster, the pain she went through, and how brave she is.
They now need $500k for treatment, and still short of $200k. Please help again if you can.
There must be something about being 2 years old that parents don't understand.
My 2yo would insist to hold a spoon, a mickey mouse, a toy horse and a toy car, with his right hand left hand right leg left leg, to sleep together. He would sometimes knock his head on my lips, and laugh in the most irresistable bablish way. He had fun, the poor mommy had a broken lip. He would also insist to wear the Hawaian-print shorts to a 5-star hotel, and a bathing towel over his head to birthday party. It's as if he has a PHD in Stubborness.
My little baby has attended play school for 2 terms. He expresses an unusual and distinctive love for guitar, just like how his brother loves construction. It's their signature favourites. The whole family speaks english with a singlish touch, he speaks with american accent, you should listen to him when he says "Look everyone! Mommy carry me now." and "No, not 1. Maybe there's 2 cats?" and "Gege, don't whine, must share."
I used to worry that everyone is not giving attention to Berton. Now Berton has taken over the throne, grandparents bring Berton to restaurants every Monday, feed him the same forbidden junk foods which Bevan enjoyed (Bevan is now trained to say no to the basic junk food like nuts chocolate, occationally). He is the little baby.
I hope he would look a bit more like me slowly. Hey I gave birth to him, but he is the exact replica of his daddy.
Every few days or weeks Bevan has a cough. It's a cough that used to make him vomit at night. We'd seen PD from Thomson Medical, United Square, Forum, KK, all had concluded that even though a simple cough could sometimes develop into Bronchitis, it's really common in young children, Bevan would most likely grow out of it. We should just take care of his environment - avoid pets, dirty aircon, dusty carpet. So far Singulair was the best medicine prescribed. Which is a lung tonic with no side effects. We live with it very well. He no longer vomits when he coughs.
So when he started coughing on Friday, we were all ready to change bedsheets at its worst. However, because Bevan insisted to see a doctor (he quite enjoy chatting with a doctor), and Daddy found him a little more breathless, Daddy brought him to see the KK doctors, which was the only PD working at night.
I waited at home for Daddy and Bevan to come home. I was really shocked when Daddy reported that Bevan was undergoing oxygen tests, blood tests, x-rays, inhaler puffs! I waited confidently at home for the results. And finally got a even more shocking call from Daddy, that Bevan was going to be admitted. The reason - his oxygen index was below 95, even after several puffs. I grew up thinking hospital stay is really serious and not pleasant, I asked the doctor over the phone, could we observe him from home, she said no.
So I rushed to the hospital with all the neccesaties like favourite toy, mickey mouse, smiley ring. When I lied beside Bevan at the hospital the first night while Daddy, who was still in work attire went home, I was still wondering if the doctor was trying to fill up the bed occupancies (I am sorry).
It was really hard for Bevan to sleep well. First he was really excited about sleeping out. Then every hour the nurse came in to check temperature, oxygen, feed medicine, make inhaler puffs. Also, the air-con was definitely too cold. I was shivering, sneezing, cramping on my foldable-bed, comforting Bevan who got woken up too often. And suddenly, the alarm on the oxygen level, which was hooked on Bevan's toe, sounded! The nurse came in, tried to improve Bevan's oxygen index by winding up his bed, changing his sleeping position, still it maintained at 91. I suspected the functionality of the machine and hook it on my own toe, it showed 100. She brought in the oxygen mask! That was when I started to see the point of admission. That was our first night.
Bevan's was much better in the morning. I naively hoped that the doctor would let us discharge during the morning review. I was, like I said, naive. Because of the night report. Daddy took leave to take over the day shift. I got constant updates from Daddy that Bevan's oxygen index was stable at 96 to 100. I took over the night shift again, but in long pants and sweaters. With lesser interference and clear expectations, Bevan slept better on the second night.
In the second morning, Bevan was all ready to go home. Bevan made lots of good nurses friends, who gave him stickers, high-5. He was a really co-operative little patient, who treated the blood test as something exciting and heroic, inhaler as toy, medicine as sweets. The day-and-night-shifts made us the best planning parent partnership. I wouldn't say it's a nice experience, but it made us overall more comprehensive of his condition, and we will surely be more cautious about what to avoid, so as to not go back anymore. It's good to be home.
Today we went to a new restaurant for dinner.
Bevan and Berton upsets each other every 5 minutes - altenate with toys grabbing, difference in opinion, and fighting. Usually ends with Bevan shouting at Berton, and Berton kicking or pinching Bevan.
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