tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48816457208584572572024-03-14T04:32:39.189+08:00Seeing it from a peculiar perspective?!My Explicit WorldDouble Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.comBlogger341125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-20998181808229934922014-05-12T22:12:00.000+08:002014-05-12T22:12:07.811+08:00It's not Rocket or Pocket, it's Croquettes!I have been wanting to make croquettes for my kids for a while, and since I am going out with some friends and their kids today, I thought why not. I will make them and bring them along with me.<br />
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My son asked me what I was doing, I told him, "I am making croquette!" He laughed and couldn't stop teasing me by mispronouncing it deliberately, calling it "rocket" or "pocket".<br />
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If you have children or love potatoes, why not try this yummy recipe - Bacon and Cheese Croquette<br />
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<b><u>Ingredients for 8 croquettes:</u></b><br />
- 5 small potatoes<br />
- 5 slices of bacons<br />
- an onion<br />
- 2 slices of cheese<br />
- 1/2 tsp of salt<br />
- 1 small piece of butter (optional)<br />
- an egg<br />
- some flour (I use gluten-free flour, but you can use normal flour)<br />
- some bread crumbs (I use Japanese bread crumb)<br />
- some vegetable oil for deep frying<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">And here is how you do it! </span></b></div>
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Boil the potatoes until a fork can pass through them.</div>
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While the potatoes are in the pot, use the time to chop up the onion and bacons.</div>
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Fry the bacons. If you are using a non-stick pan, you don't have to use any oil. When the bacons start oozing out oil, add in the onions. Stir fry them until onion is soften and bacons are browned. </div>
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When the potatoes are ready, peel the skins off under running water while the potatoes are hot, the skins will come off quite effortlessly. Then put the potatoes, salt and butter in a large bowl and mash them up.</div>
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Then add in the bacons and onion to the mashed potatoes. Mix them well.</div>
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Divide the potatoes into 8 portions. Take one portion and flatten it onto your palm, add a quarter slice of the cheese in the middle and fold the potato's edges to the middle, so that the cheese is hidden right inside. Then shape the potato into an oval shape.</div>
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Put flour onto a large plate and lay the shaped potato onto the flour to prevent them from sticking onto the plate. Turn the potato over and coat it evenly with flour.</div>
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Next, beat an egg in a wide and shallow bowl or plate and pour the bread crumbs into another similar bowl.</div>
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Dip the flour coated potato into the egg and then coat it with the bread crumbs.</div>
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Make sure the potato is coated evenly with bread crumbs.</div>
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When the oil is hot, gently put in the potato. Do not flip it immediately or it might break into pieces. Wait for the crumbs to harden before flipping the potato over. Use medium to medium high heat, fry for just 2 mins or until it turned deep golden in color.</div>
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Drain the oil off before serving.</div>
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It's good as a snack and perfect with a bottle of beer! I mean, beer if you are an adult. Hehehe...<br />
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You can also make it into a vegetarian style, but replacing the bacons with corns kernels. Or if you prefer meatier version, you can use minced beef instead of bacons. They will taste good anyhow.<br />
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<br />Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-64403021270697346982014-04-30T20:49:00.000+08:002014-05-01T22:41:11.512+08:00Keep Calm and Eat Dessert!Some times work can get pretty crazy. I see some of my co-workers skipping lunch because of stress, I really feel bad for them.<br>
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I don't usually feel stressed up easily, but when I do, I crave for desserts! STRESSED spells backward gives you DESSERTS! I know, that's sinful. So why not make some desserts that is healthier, like this Coconut Mango Pudding with real mangoes and very little sugar.<br>
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<b><u>Ingredients for 5 servings:</u></b><br>
250ml coconut milk (not coconut cream)<br>
1 cup of mango puree (made from ripe mangoes)<br>
2 tsp of gelatin powder<br>
a pinch of salt<br>
1 tbsp of sugar<br>
optional - mint leaves for decoration (I happened to plant some myself. Organic!)<br>
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<b><u>Instructions:</u></b><br>
1. Cut up 2 large mangoes (or 3 small ones).<br>
2. Save some mangoes for decoration later.<br>
3. Put the rest into a food processor and process it until you get a smooth puree.<br>
4. Put coconut milk in a pot, add in the gelatin powder, sugar and salt. Use low heat. Stir to dissolve the gelatin, sugar and salt. Remove from heat before the mixture boil.<br>
5. Mix in the mango puree. Stir thoroughly until the mango puree completely blended with the milk mixture.<br>
6. Pour the mixture through a fine sieve into your pudding containers. I am using wine glasses, but you can use any glass bowls or even plastic cups.<br>
7. Chill for at least 4 hours.<br>
8. Before serving, spoon the cut mangoes cubes onto the pudding and decorate with mint leave if you like.<br>
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This recipe gives you a different mango pudding from the ones you normally get from those Hong Kong cafe. It has a distinct coconut flavour and the color is more like a pale mustard than bright orange (because there is no food coloring added). Enjoy and de-stress!<br>
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<br>Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-6379748419351373972014-03-26T19:52:00.001+08:002014-03-26T22:06:39.806+08:00Cooking Lion's Head Casserole Made Easy<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Firstly, I want to declare that NO LION was ever
harmed or killed for this dish of mine. Why the funny name, Lion's Head
Casserole? It's probably the large meat balls in this dish that resembled
lion's head, while the regular sized meatballs are probably looking like cat's
head beside it. Oh.. whatever.. as long as the dish is tasty who cares about the name. Here are the ingredients:</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><br></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><b><u>INGREDIENTS A</u></b></span><br>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">- 1 pack of minced pork
(I use frozen pork)</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">- 10 to 12 prawns, chopped into small pieces</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">- A handful of finely chopped water chestnuts</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">- 1 egg, lightly beaten</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">- 1 tablespoon of Chinese rice wine (I used nu-er hong, but you could use anything, even brandy)</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">- 1 tablespoon of light soya sauce</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">- 1 tablespoon of sesame oil</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">- 1 teaspoon of sugar (fine type)</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">-1 tablespoon of cornstarch (You'll need another 2 tablespoon set aside for thickening the broth at the end of the cooking)</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><b><u>INGREDIENTS B</u></b></span><br>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">- 2 to 3 tablespoons of oil for frying the meatballs </span><br>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">- About 800 ml of chicken broth (You can get instant one like me if you are lazy) </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSZgpArBctlRO6Rrf58_8AhHgrLgRh3xxtFcHc4QyGrXY2i4QcAA2ga0HxW8acUK2jySb3t3xg1gKTX_7SF-iEBw-cvGk3251QJp8wVTsEiNJBYx7F9H2eb1mzUaJPW-2N7IOdK5BBa70M/s1600/DSC_0121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSZgpArBctlRO6Rrf58_8AhHgrLgRh3xxtFcHc4QyGrXY2i4QcAA2ga0HxW8acUK2jySb3t3xg1gKTX_7SF-iEBw-cvGk3251QJp8wVTsEiNJBYx7F9H2eb1mzUaJPW-2N7IOdK5BBa70M/s1600/DSC_0121.JPG" height="225" width="400"></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">- Half head of Chinese cabbage washed, drained, cut into 2 or 3 sections (Picture above is only half the portion, as I had added the other half before I took this photo)</span><br>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">- Some chopped up garlics (not too finely chopped, you want it big enough to be seen even after cooking)</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>How to cook? Easy</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><b>Preparation:</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">1. In a bowl, combine all of <b>Ingredients A</b> and mix them up with a spoon. Keep the mixture covered and chill in the fridge over night.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">2. The next day, form the pork mixture into large sized meatballs. Dampen your hands with water so the mixture will not stick to your hands when you try to mound them. Flatten the balls slightly, but not too flat like a patty.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">3. Heat the oil in a pan on medium-high heat. When the oil is ready, add the meatballs. Cook until browned on the bottom before flipping it to the other side so that the balls will not break up into pieces. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-JmEzufp7jUdYJEoyfWsjENLfqz_jlUVtk3ipsP48-_Wkja175GYlTvHugOMPNU3H9SgyrYt2omhr9rgQY-enaiD8Koz8A728l__Wnxv4S-aJ_gDoIaByv7MHKhLgWr5abfIOUs96UG91/s1600/DSC_0120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-JmEzufp7jUdYJEoyfWsjENLfqz_jlUVtk3ipsP48-_Wkja175GYlTvHugOMPNU3H9SgyrYt2omhr9rgQY-enaiD8Koz8A728l__Wnxv4S-aJ_gDoIaByv7MHKhLgWr5abfIOUs96UG91/s1600/DSC_0120.JPG" height="400" width="225"></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">4. When the meatballs are done, lift them off the pan and put them aside. Bring half the chicken broth to boil in a large pot. Add just half of your Chinese cabbage (especially the stem parts) and the garlics, cook until the cabbage soften up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">5. Add the meatballs, reduce the heat and top up the rest of the Chinese cabbage and broth, covering the meatballs. Simmer for at least 35 minutes with half-covered lid. I like to keep it simmered longer so that the cabbage melts in my mouth when I eat. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMIo2Hl6y6lGgoFQPJofENlaKyXN-e2uqDePP5hVD_FAmCjgK9haIQDaIDrVvoT-eV8UXT6qjtlR2DItlnF88Gz_sdGPPrigJVVO8Hb-t9ANlYYkY2tdwYiW1cgG6pdNdnnb4x_LlUl6Ko/s1600/DSC_0124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMIo2Hl6y6lGgoFQPJofENlaKyXN-e2uqDePP5hVD_FAmCjgK9haIQDaIDrVvoT-eV8UXT6qjtlR2DItlnF88Gz_sdGPPrigJVVO8Hb-t9ANlYYkY2tdwYiW1cgG6pdNdnnb4x_LlUl6Ko/s1600/DSC_0124.JPG" height="225" width="400"></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">6. Thicken the broth with cornstarch.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">7. Serve hot with some plain rice. Yumms!! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyMk9FC7Cb2og4o38wK7wMb4wkS7stsmNR9gWZdn1uO9Kf_OXg5JkRIOVMyHrAEbFcJjkoMF3_wPU1o5OcsKmLewI7esEKMmraLQiBowLZh1rP5w97XLFT3HsrL34B2WiJLgYWJFhCUXaY/s1600/DSC_0128.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyMk9FC7Cb2og4o38wK7wMb4wkS7stsmNR9gWZdn1uO9Kf_OXg5JkRIOVMyHrAEbFcJjkoMF3_wPU1o5OcsKmLewI7esEKMmraLQiBowLZh1rP5w97XLFT3HsrL34B2WiJLgYWJFhCUXaY/s1600/DSC_0128.JPG" height="225" width="400"></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Happy eating the lion, without really killing one. </span></div>
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Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-13377268787009886962014-02-03T16:02:00.000+08:002014-05-02T11:45:55.559+08:00Choco Bananas with Chocolate Bits Muffins<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This recipe is too good, and too easy, not to share. I guarantee your kid/s and/ or even yourself would love them! I could stop eating them, even though I am not really a fan of bananas.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIUbKOfHMyW9pODfWN7CM9aDdQ87s9FxTEUBUIkNj1r4pKl1DG-2Cc9UmY4JTxLoD5FZDJzL2W5Ak48eTeysc308j0L2rcXbGU9Ioolt-t40A0ygMDGgrzWeLTwNrbLdFRtaCB3RGndnSy/s1600/Capture.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIUbKOfHMyW9pODfWN7CM9aDdQ87s9FxTEUBUIkNj1r4pKl1DG-2Cc9UmY4JTxLoD5FZDJzL2W5Ak48eTeysc308j0L2rcXbGU9Ioolt-t40A0ygMDGgrzWeLTwNrbLdFRtaCB3RGndnSy/s1600/Capture.JPG" height="177" width="320" /></a></div>
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<u><b>Ingredients:</b></u></div>
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120g of self-raising flour (20g to be mixed into the chocolates)</div>
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100 g of sugar</div>
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1 pinch of salt</div>
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2 1/2 tsp of cocoa powder (unsweetened)</div>
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2 eggs</div>
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2 large overly ripe bananas</div>
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1 tsp of vanilla essence</div>
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55g of butter (melted and cool to room temperature)</div>
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50g of chocolate chips or chopped up chocolate mixed with 20g of flour (so that the chocolate would not sink to the bottom of the muffins when you bake them)</div>
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<b><u>Steps (super easy, I am not kidding you)</u></b></div>
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WET MIXTURE</div>
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-Mash the banana up with a fork (My 6 YO daughter helped me with that)</div>
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-Crack 2 eggs into the mashed banana and whisk the mixture</div>
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-Pour in the melted butter and the vanilla essence, whisk to mix well</div>
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DRY MIXTURE</div>
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-Mix the flour, salt and sugar together</div>
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-Pour in half of the wet mixture and fold in the dry mixture, then the other half, mix well</div>
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-Sift in the cocoa powder and them fold it in</div>
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-Pour in the chocolates and fold those in as well</div>
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<br /></div>
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-Put them into muffin cups and bake at 280 degree for 20 minutes. Done!</div>
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I used gluten-free self-raising flour and margarine, but you could use the normal flour and butter just the same. For chocolates, I had some leftover Lindt Swiss Thins, you could replace it with any chocolate chips, however a good quality chocolate would give you a better overall taste.</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Happy Baking!</span></b></div>
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Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-43505568076222546462014-01-29T20:30:00.001+08:002023-06-13T16:13:11.088+08:00Hello 2014, sorry I am lateI realized that I hadn't been blogging for a while.. ok.. a long while. Let's just say.. I got tired. Many things had happened towards the end of 2013. Don't get me wrong, it was still an awesome year. I got a new role at work, my baby girl was starting formal education, amidst those, there had been death and illnesses.<br />
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Then, I had gone away to be on my own for a short time. Away from my kids, my home, my husband, my job. It was my necessary recharge, a time for me to be me, and not just the role I play - a wife, a mother or a salaried employee. A time to sleep and eat at whenever I want, however I want. A time to wake up to peace and quiet, instead of the noise from my alarm clock or the chaos my children create. A time to stay in bed for as long I wanted or to stay out the whole day, knowing I don't have to come back to anyone who is waiting.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixP2CebOoBIuGSp3C5mjmykTGS_Lx7-pMzmqVeaIMew4YXZIrQ2R9F0p_2-tOiQ2Uu9AsuKzi4LGqb-58xRyEOgQPCUtjR0yMigfjE2LJBYukjNwAv9FCve_E3f3Ol88labPGCvuv6I9-5/s1600/Capture.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixP2CebOoBIuGSp3C5mjmykTGS_Lx7-pMzmqVeaIMew4YXZIrQ2R9F0p_2-tOiQ2Uu9AsuKzi4LGqb-58xRyEOgQPCUtjR0yMigfjE2LJBYukjNwAv9FCve_E3f3Ol88labPGCvuv6I9-5/s1600/Capture.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSqCRf-ZFgQgtoFIF9oMbNeus4KnN6PM7sbXfw1PJtdKrKXLw9Oh4czy-jrruHUioffVD1FZ4M8nNI6ZDhCxL9J4ULtpckNsjSnl3MH_WFBDiTQkMpQ_8utwFDJyW4DmnWJtUopOOUk6QT/s1600/Capture2.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSqCRf-ZFgQgtoFIF9oMbNeus4KnN6PM7sbXfw1PJtdKrKXLw9Oh4czy-jrruHUioffVD1FZ4M8nNI6ZDhCxL9J4ULtpckNsjSnl3MH_WFBDiTQkMpQ_8utwFDJyW4DmnWJtUopOOUk6QT/s1600/Capture2.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Seoul is beautiful, but freezing. I loved my trip, but I missed my family. After more than 12 days of travelling (5 days in Japan for business), I finally came home. They say, "Resting is for a longer journey." I think they must be right.<br />
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Am I ready for 2014? I don't know, what I do know is, the year ahead would be more challenging than the last.<br />
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Happy New Year. Happy Lunar New Year. I really mean it, because I, too, need it - Have a really happy 2014!<br />
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<br />Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-60576206904054647782013-12-26T11:42:00.000+08:002014-05-02T11:46:38.164+08:00Christmas Shopping at Johor Premium OutletI was there early in the morning with my family on Christmas Eve, the shops opened at around 10am. We were very lucky that the weather was really good because the outlet is quite big and lots of walking to be done. And we were there to buy Christmas presents for each other (my hubby and I) as well as presents for our kids.<br />
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If you expect to find luxurious branded goods here, you might even go home empty-handed. There are just a few big and famous brands like Armani, DKNY, Burberry, Coach, Guy Laroche, Hugo Boss, Polo Ralph Lauren and Calvin Klein. Only Burberry and Coach carry more bags while the rest mostly carry apparels. I usually won't spend so much on branded clothes because I prefer spending the same amount of money buying several pieces of merchandise instead. And I dumped/ give away the clothes in my wardrobe very frequently to make space for new ones.<br />
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You will find lots of mid to low priced brands like Cotton-on, Soda, G2000, Hang-Ten, Vincci, Padini, Topshop etc. And also some sports brand like Adidas, Puma, Nike, Rip Curl, etc. But seriously, you don't have to travel all the way to Johor Premium Outlet to buy these brands which have sales a few times a year in the malls. And not forgetting, we have IMM in Singapore, which houses many outlet stores too, although, the prices might not be as competitive.<br />
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Some stores that we visited were having additional discounts for multiple pieces purchase. Like Polo Ralph Lauren and Adidas, which gave up to 30% further discounts, so it was very worthwhile. The Polo dress that my hubby bought for my 6YO girl cost nothing more than SGD$40 and the Adidas sport suit for my 4YO son was just around SGD$25!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH0B2GgBAiynAMac4rIPHPmzNsj0wU5G7vXNO_2RFJw24bfomEhngVAqJiLzYPASVNuyG3fayCxsB1nmPaxpdqYGn9PTAoqbz12cA3-tWTX8Ulia0PnsvKb6WJiD5Hrs-gHY-La0ZO8bx9/s1600/DSC_0024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH0B2GgBAiynAMac4rIPHPmzNsj0wU5G7vXNO_2RFJw24bfomEhngVAqJiLzYPASVNuyG3fayCxsB1nmPaxpdqYGn9PTAoqbz12cA3-tWTX8Ulia0PnsvKb6WJiD5Hrs-gHY-La0ZO8bx9/s640/DSC_0024.JPG" height="640" width="360" /></a></div>
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<i>Nearly bought this jacket for my son, he looked so smart in it, but then again this fella already has two similar jackets at home. Which boy, his age, needs so many jackets?!</i></div>
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For myself, I didn't find that many things which appealed to me, maybe I have a lot of bags, shoes, clothes and stuff at home to begin with, but my hubby really wanted to get something for me for Christmas. In the end, I finally laid my eyes upon a winter jacket from Calvin Klein that was on a further 60% discount and I needed one for my trip to Seoul next month.<br />
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We spent almost 6 hours there (plus we had our lunch at the over-priced Kampachi Japanese Restaurant), we left the place with a few more bags than I initially expected. My two very cranky and exhausted kids were just glad that we were done shopping, they can't wait for us to check-in to Traders Hotels for our Christmas staycation!<br />
<br />Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-14071426320168167592013-11-24T23:06:00.001+08:002013-11-25T00:34:23.441+08:00Son over DaughterThere are times when I would secretly prefer having son over daughter. Today, happens to be one of those.<br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCis3zQQzbHlPvg31wRbTt-0eaayEyNPd83FSraU9A0anGOYTyw3myIZc8Widb8AFuCxh9EiRrZrC5nwlm8u4Yy341y7GVNv5zRbVOJTIhwmKaEKVqpgORgiR8PYgQfMMwMk6URtXRfuOA/s1600/DSC_0177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCis3zQQzbHlPvg31wRbTt-0eaayEyNPd83FSraU9A0anGOYTyw3myIZc8Widb8AFuCxh9EiRrZrC5nwlm8u4Yy341y7GVNv5zRbVOJTIhwmKaEKVqpgORgiR8PYgQfMMwMk6URtXRfuOA/s400/DSC_0177.JPG" width="270"></a></div>
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I know it is making me sound like a real asshole for saying that; as though I came from the ancient era where boys were once treasured, and girls were trashed. But before you judge me, or let the feminists burn me alive, let me put things into perspectives.<br>
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We had a normal Sunday morning, where my helper would bring my two kids to the playground (within our condo's compound) while I stayed in bed for as long as I possibly can. Then my kids came home and talked about the great time they had with their friends at the playground. They cleaned themselves up, had lunch, my son showered.. and up until this point, our Sunday was as uneventful as any Sunday.<br>
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Then, it was my daughter's turn to shower. She went in briefly and came out of the bathroom, then she turned our world upside down when she told us her private part was bleeding!<br>
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She can't be menstruating, she isn't even six! I screamed in my head.<br>
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I laid her down and checked her and was shocked to find a cut on her delicate part, near her <i>you-know-where</i>. I asked her how she got the cut, she told me she fell down at the playground. I checked the rest of her body and couldn't find any bruises or cuts anywhere else. Panic infested me at that instant.<br>
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We (hubby and I) decided to bring her to the GP near our house. After a short wait, I got into the consultation room with my daughter, I told the GP what I had found on her private area, he listened and looked thoughtful. The male GP barely examined my shrieking daughter, who was bleeding and was in pain. Then he told me awkwardly that he didn't find her bleeding wound consistent with injury that would have resulted from a simple fall. He tried to probe about our family background with so much uneasiness exhibiting all over his face, he was making me super nervous. Finally, he let it out.<br>
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He told me, he wouldn't charge us the consultation fee, because his clinic wasn't equip with any sexual assault diagnostic kit, he suggested that we make a trip to a hospital instead.<br>
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SEXUAL ASSAULT!!! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???<br>
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I had wanted to throw up, but I didn't. I composed myself, exit the GP's office. I got my husband, but didn't tell him what the GP told me, but made him drove us straight to KK Children's and Women's Hospital.<br>
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Throughout the journey, my mind was in a whirlpool. I was fighting those dark thoughts that had gathered like rain clouds over my head.<br>
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I pig-out on a carbo-rich meal; played games on my mobile phone to distract myself, while we waited for our turn to see a doctor. It wasn't long before it was our turn, but the short wait was unbearable for me, and perhaps me alone.<br>
<br>
I told the KK's doctor that our GP had wanted us to be here because he found the cut on my daughter's private part inconsistent with injury that would normally be sustained from a fall. And I just didn't want to go any further. So the doctor checked on her and asked her numerous questions, then the doctor got another more senior doctor to come in.<br>
<br>
After a thorough examination, the senior doctor finally lifted those heavy rocks from my chest when she announced that the cut was most likely to be a straddle injury - injury to the genital area by falling astride a blunt object. There wasn't any signs of sexual abuse.<br>
<br>
It almost felt as though I had died and was brought back to life! And now, I really wanted to slaughter that GP!<br>
<br>
Lesson learnt. Go to a GP only if you wanted to get nothing more than a MC, for other reasons, consult a professional!<br>
<br>
Next, where the hell can I enroll my daughter to a self-defence class, no, better a class that would teach her how to yank out the balls of any men who would dare touch her inappropriately?<br>
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<br>Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-41424909904104306252013-10-28T22:24:00.002+08:002013-10-31T09:19:48.025+08:00Why Family Vacations are ImportantWe had just returned from our much anticipated family vacation not too long ago. We had been planning this since the beginning of the year!<br>
<br>
Family vacation like this never fail to stress me out. Maybe I have too much expectations of myself and my kids. I really should learn to let go and chill out.<br>
<br>
I know some parents are reluctant to bring their children along when they go on a vacation. Some couldn't be bothered because they believe that children would not retain the memories of the trip when they grow up. Some just aren't game enough to take up the challenge to bring along their kids.<br>
<br>
I love my kids (even though they drive me nuts!) and I want to bring them to see the world! Yes, it's going to be a lot of hassle bringing little children around. We did it and will keep doing it, even if it means that I will have sleepless nights days before the trip and will be more tired than a dog during the trip.<br>
<br>
But... look at these.<br>
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Don't you think it's just worth all the troubles seeing their precious smiles?<br>
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It maybe be true that my kids are not going to remember everything that happened during our trip, but I do. The memories are for me, because they are not going to stay little forever. One day, they will become independent and leave home to form their own families, and then all these pictures and memories will be all I have of them, to keep and hold on forever.<br>
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<br>Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-50779280594746067042013-10-26T00:20:00.001+08:002013-10-27T09:19:36.618+08:00SinkingThere are things that I can't and won't ever want to say. Words that would make things fall apart if it was heard... or has it already became pieces?<br />
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I closed my eyes. It's there. I opened my eyes. It's still there. Has it always been there and I just didn't see it coming?<br />
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Denial. Is your name Denial?<br />
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I push them away and tucked them in the deepest corner of my mind. Keep busy, keep working, be distracted, I remind myself times and times over.<br />
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Busy.. distracted.. busy.. distracted.. a short moment of silence later.. it springs right back.<br />
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My thoughts throughout the days spin around like this. Concerned, depressed, uncomfortable, indifferent, nervous, resigned, scared, crushed, relieved, apathetic, pretentious, exasperated, uneasy. In no particular order.<br />
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It's like my emotions are running high on this overworked treadmill. Make it stop. Make it stop already!<br />
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I have to remind myself that the only thing that will remain unchanged, is change itself. Regardless of it being good or bad, nothing is meant to last forever... though it might last a long long time.<br />
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I want to remain emotionless, I don't want to lose that bit of control, because I am quite sure the floor will open up and swallow me into the realm of the irretrievable if I just let myself go.<br />
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Something so beautiful, can also be so morbid. Depends on how you look at it. So what do you choose to see?<br />
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Didn't they always say focus only on the good?<br />
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Focus on the good... Focus on the good... Focus on the good...<br />
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I am freed now. So why am I still sinking?<br />
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<br />Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-82502269577546400092013-10-23T20:03:00.000+08:002013-10-27T09:17:40.501+08:00Bad MomLike most mothers, who started out pure and simple, we just want to be the best mom for our child/ children. You had probably tried to read countless books and articles that you could get your hands on, and had lots of advice on how to raise your children. At the beginning, you were convinced that you're never going down that lane, becoming who your own mother used to be. You are going to be different. To be better.<br />
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Believe me, I was once all that too. Then, in a few years’ time, reality served.<br />
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Too many moments, I found myself doing things that I am too ashamed to admit or raising my voice, saying <i>THE MOST</i> awful things that any good mothers would disapprove of.<br />
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“Shut up and do it because I am your mother!” “Stop it or I will make you regrets this.”<br />
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It was as if I was this third party, seeing this terrible parent who couldn’t control herself whenever she was being challenged. I rolled my eyes at myself and got insanely livid and disgusted for being me.<br />
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At times, my urge to control or just to make a stupid point pushes me back into being a juvenile. Perhaps, I am desperate to put my child in the role of an adult. And for what? To compensate my desire to have made all the wrong things right? Or am I trying to avoid confronting my improbable fear as my children approach the age when I lost that only chance to grow up in a proper family. I don’t know and it frustrates me even further.<br />
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I find it especially hard to analyze battles nowadays; which are the ones to fight, and which are the ones to walk away from. And I just take them all up. Gone were the days when it was just discipline, now being in control is often just the beginning of the path that propels me to issue more threats, let out more screams, and dish out more punishments. These have been emotionally crippling me. Regardless of winning or losing the battles, it made me feel like a complete failure, because I know very well that I had absolutely crossed that line. I had morbidly transformed into the bad mom that I swore I would never become.<br />
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I really don’t need someone to point that out to me because I know it better. And you have no idea how much that guilt is killing me.<br />
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Maybe I shouldn't be too bothered if my children are healthy, well-behaved or if they will perform well in school. Or worry if they will grow up righteous and successful. Perhaps I should simply conform, be like the millions of moms out there; just throw my kids some damn Ipad or gadgets and just get on with life, the easier way out. Or had I just leave my kids to my helper or let myself to heard from time to time, I might have prevented all these menaces. I don't know what's right any more. My intent which started out looking quite noble had took on such an ugly turn.<br />
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Being nine months pregnant and giving birth to my children don’t automatically grant me the know-how to be someone’s mom. And more so, when the balance of being firm and overbearing becomes blurred with the juggling of multiple roles that I wasn’t trained or prepared myself for. And I definitely didn't have the mommy’s qualities bestowed upon me when my children came along. The more I tried to be perfect, the more I struggled.<br />
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You probably think that I am looking for excuses for being who I have become, but you are not me, you have not walked a mile in my shoes.<br />
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So, I hugged my daughter who was lying stiffly in her bed. I cried and I apologized for screwing our life up. There was some hesitance it was almost like she was contemplating my motives because I always get mad when I find them not sleeping. Then suddenly, she threw her arms around me and sobbed, saying, “It’s OK, Mommy. It’s OK, really. I still love you…”<br />
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And this bad mom was forgiven. The uncompromising love, innocence and the magnanimousness of a child that will put any grown-up to shame.<br />
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Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-22907293646921488562013-10-08T23:00:00.001+08:002023-06-13T16:59:57.740+08:00The Forgotten Child<div style="text-align: left;">
"Hey! Long time no see." </div>
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Then we hugged and I shook hands with his children (a son and a daughter). He continued, "Where are you working now?" "How many children do you have? How old are they?"</div>
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I was at a wedding dinner last weekend and conversation like the one above is always very common, you would think. The only thing unusual about it was - the person who was having that conversation with me is my own father.</div>
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Yes. My biological father.</div>
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My parents went their separate ways. I was 8, and nobody told me that my life was going to change forever. </div>
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I was sent to stay with my grandparents and aunts, where I spent the next 14 years growing up without either of my parents by my side.</div>
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While my mom made continuous effort to reconnect with us (my brother and I) during our teenage years, my dad on the other hand, withdrawn himself further and further away from us after forming a second family, with his new wife, completed with a new set of children of their own.</div>
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As far as I can remember, I had never been to my dad's new home or spent a day with him and his new family. I saw lesser and lesser of him, from once a year to once in a few years, then came a day, he stopped visiting me altogether. </div>
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Some 7 years back, I bumped into him when I was pregnant with my first child. I walked up to him and greeted him. He looked completely puzzled then he casually told me I must have mistaken him for somebody else and he walked off. My own dad did not recognized me! I had to call out his full name before he could remember he had another daughter, who was right there, standing in front of him.</div>
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That evening, at the wedding dinner where I met him, he brought along his children. Apart from our overly polite handshakes, we had no interactions whatsoever, because we are not anything, but strangers.</div>
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Her daughter should probably in her mid 20s, looking very polished, refined and elegant, seated right next to him, looking absolutely like a proud daddy's little girl. She was like this delicate orchid, so sheltered, protected, growing in a perfect greenhouse. And I was like some weeds! Fending for myself out there and getting tramped on.</div>
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If I told you, I wasn't feeling bitter that night, I was lying because that girl sitting beside my dad could have been me. But no. I never feel like I ever had a father.</div>
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I never blame my dad for remarrying or for making choices to live life as a wholesome father for my step-siblings. But I just couldn't stop myself from feeling I had been deliberately forgotten and that he had chosen to neglect me, to have nothing to do with me.</div>
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Where were you when I was battling depression? Where were you when I tried to take my own life? Where were you the whole time? Where? I had wanted to scream at him.</div>
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But I didn't. </div>
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As much as I would love to have a father to love me and protect me, I knew it's all over. He WAS my father, but not any more. </div>
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I have grown up. I have moved on. I have no need for a father any more.</div>
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Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-55659323504647555702013-09-17T23:01:00.001+08:002013-09-17T23:01:50.579+08:00Weekly Off Day For MaidsSince the beginning of this year, all foreign domestic helpers whose work permits are issued after 1 Jan 2013 will be entitled weekly off day. However, many employers of these FDH are forking out more money, on top of paying the basic wage and levy, to offer compensation in-lieu instead.<br />
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Many employers believed that weekly off days will create problems, such as their maids mixing around with bad companies, getting into relationships, having unprotected sex, getting knock up or worst, being slaughtered by some Bangla workers.<br />
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I have been hiring domestic helpers (maids, more commonly known) since 2007. How I look at it is - I am just an employer, not my helper's family or friend, so why should I be bothered about how she wants to lead/ruin her life. All I ask is for her to do her work properly, I don't ask any questions about her private life. If she doesn't want to share her life with me, that's fine, because everybody deserves some privacy.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjohWhyphenhyphenEfuDCeQCvxVFZD3T1OVhhnN61Zc5e6xZ4T4eIvjzfolEeRPGnhIXGayKaCn5IWs-_fNwlrclSp2pNCpGmzesOEe9xMn694-TGpLIohSA4thmVlC6SmtuGUHEJxpqyhLn9oix73hY/s1600/DSC_0609.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjohWhyphenhyphenEfuDCeQCvxVFZD3T1OVhhnN61Zc5e6xZ4T4eIvjzfolEeRPGnhIXGayKaCn5IWs-_fNwlrclSp2pNCpGmzesOEe9xMn694-TGpLIohSA4thmVlC6SmtuGUHEJxpqyhLn9oix73hY/s400/DSC_0609.JPG" width="265" /></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Above: My helper, Suparni, on her first day of work with my family, and my daughter.</span></i></div>
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As an employee of a MNC, this is exactly what I would expect from my boss (direct manager) too. If I am incompetent, my boss can fire me, but my boss should not dictate how I live my life, regardless how much he/she is paying me, let alone deny me of off days.<br />
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I don't know about you, but I really don't wish to see my boss's face 24/7 (even though my boss is really awesome), so what's make you think your maid wants to see you 24/7, for up to two years!<br />
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And having said all that, do I give my helper weekly off? You might ask.<br />
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You bet. She gets to have a break from work (and us) every week and she chooses to take Saturday off. I am happy for her to be away, it gives an opportunity to bond with my children (and husband) and to show them that I am not only capable at work, I am also a fantastic domestic goddess!<br />
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<br />Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-68099076206236178172013-08-22T20:00:00.000+08:002013-08-22T20:00:07.318+08:008 Easy Steps to a Tantalizing TiramisuTiramisu has always been one of my favourite dessert. I don't want to just eating it, I want to make it! You should have realized by now, that I am an aspiring domestic goddess!! Perhaps I could be the next Nigella Lawson? Anyway, I had successfully made an ass-kicking tiramisu for my family, so tantalizing, it had completely annihilated my diet plan.<br />
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That day I posted a picture of the tiramisu I made on Instagram and FB and had received request to share the recipe, so here it is...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi43Ls72F4k76FRgn83kk6ruubDnBmsjTz7rwsC6InVUqaqjlmSviftAwVcPpNVwj_xeVXk-5k__VwDCfRfFYp2L98NubqGEeP28rYIxShsrXzzLE6AfRTxa1uHzg7hrmnqN6hswSKgcm5K/s1600/Capture.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi43Ls72F4k76FRgn83kk6ruubDnBmsjTz7rwsC6InVUqaqjlmSviftAwVcPpNVwj_xeVXk-5k__VwDCfRfFYp2L98NubqGEeP28rYIxShsrXzzLE6AfRTxa1uHzg7hrmnqN6hswSKgcm5K/s320/Capture.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><b><u><span style="color: orange;">Ingredients:</span></u></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1) 3 Whole eggs</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2) Mascarpone cheese
- </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">500g</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3) Vanilla extract - 1 tea
spoon</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">4) Gianduia Chocolate Liquor 1 cup <i>(I am not too crazy over coffee, but you could use espresso and rum like most recipes. It's just my personal preference, plus I happened to have a bottle of chocolate liquor sitting on my shelf. Btw, Baileys Irish Cream makes a good substitute too)</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">5) Whipping cream -
200ml</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">6) Unsweetened cocoa powder - 1 and half table spoon <i>(I choose Hershey's cocoa)</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">7) Italian ladyfingers, not the fresh vegetables ok! - About 1
whole pack <i>(I go with the brand Vicenzovo)</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">8) </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">50g white sugar</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><b><u><span style="color: orange;">Instructions:</span></u></b></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Step 1) Whisk egg yolk</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Separate the 3 whole eggs, egg yolks in one bowl, and whites in another. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Whisk the yolks with 25g of sugar in low to medium speed until the mixture become lighter in color and creamy in texture. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Add in 1 teaspoon of
vanilla extract and whisk again in low speed until the mixture is pale and slightly thicker.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Step 2) Fold in the cheese</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Add 500g mascarpone cheese to the mixture and fold it in with a whisk or spatula until you get a smooth mixture.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Step 3) Whisk whipping
cream</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In another mixture bowl, add
200ml of whipping cream whisk in medium speed until the cream become stiff and thick.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Step 4) Whisk egg whites </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Use a clean whisk is very important for whisking the egg whites with 25g of white sugar in low to medium speed until the egg
whites become fluffy and stiff.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Step 5) Mix all 3</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Fold in the whipping cream back, followed by egg whites to the cheese and egg yolk mixture. Mix all
the ingredient well until it resembles a creamy paste.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Step 6) Prepare the ladyfingers</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dip ladyfingers into chocolate liquor, and then lay </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the ladyfingers
at the bottom of deep glass container. (mine is measured 20cm x 19cm x 7cm). After the bottom is laid with a
layer of ladyfingers, add half of the creamy mixture</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.
Repeat the process for the second layer.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Step 7) Cool it</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Put the glass container in the fridge for at least 6 hours. But personally, I feel the tiramisu will taste much better after 1 day in the fridge.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Step 8) Finish up with cocoa powder</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After 6 hours or more, sieve the cocoa powder to the top and your tiramisu is ready!</span></div>
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Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-11755517582855461422013-08-14T20:30:00.000+08:002013-08-18T22:43:28.449+08:00To Market, To Market<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I shop once a week for grocery at Bukit Timah's Fair Price Finest, and had never been to the wet market in the estate where I live, simply because it's inconvenient for car parking, not to mention that wet market in Singapore is really WET! And let's face it, our markets here don't really smell that good either. But I really do enjoy grocery shopping and visiting markets when I was travelling in Japan and Australia.</div>
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Last week, after letting my kids <strike>run amok</strike> discharged their energies at Turf City's Fidgets, we went to Pasar Bella for a couple of hours. A sea of fresh produces, delicious food and some unusual retail products dazzled us, adults and children alike.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGbIAD0t7tRAsizfnYa1yKtJ6CLmAIY_rkVutM81z_shs1QCMvxSIf_MmJJCVBgWjytDt9DPW6G66gr4iPkshnRGIT4MKEPAy9AFmblG77NugIvsf74y2bmIB7cfBhlCNnGd4mZcYi4KhV/s1600/DSCF2579.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGbIAD0t7tRAsizfnYa1yKtJ6CLmAIY_rkVutM81z_shs1QCMvxSIf_MmJJCVBgWjytDt9DPW6G66gr4iPkshnRGIT4MKEPAy9AFmblG77NugIvsf74y2bmIB7cfBhlCNnGd4mZcYi4KhV/s400/DSCF2579.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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It was nearly dinner time, so we headed to the fresh seafood section first. This area reminded me so much of Tsujiki Fish Market in Japan, where seafood is so fresh that they are ALIVE!!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkODtNySQWuBYqE7kQ37xBbDJfgr4armBprOTuw6MJB-mWb8Ae38YOoXJLT2wWduQjgLZ0HPhSQCsJTunGKmuulXEgxp5BmtvAatC1ErxRL1Nu3ug90NKnqdQa0ByKncJLYzfUabUJJbWF/s1600/DSCF2543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkODtNySQWuBYqE7kQ37xBbDJfgr4armBprOTuw6MJB-mWb8Ae38YOoXJLT2wWduQjgLZ0HPhSQCsJTunGKmuulXEgxp5BmtvAatC1ErxRL1Nu3ug90NKnqdQa0ByKncJLYzfUabUJJbWF/s400/DSCF2543.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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These lobsters were still moving! That's just how fresh the seafood here is! Buzzing with lives!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAyGaBOL6qZIbvxC37-Aruk3hIfoVdQEDJ6tKCBLziv3iUaZ9uNKb8fRXFeb1aVJRa_cENcFwVCFgaNEZr-6zBnHorqgbVucSEhLZJlHZ_QSW4UhyFXbbaUw5j8tG6CBCJ-Y6DwntvT9TF/s1600/DSCF2536.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAyGaBOL6qZIbvxC37-Aruk3hIfoVdQEDJ6tKCBLziv3iUaZ9uNKb8fRXFeb1aVJRa_cENcFwVCFgaNEZr-6zBnHorqgbVucSEhLZJlHZ_QSW4UhyFXbbaUw5j8tG6CBCJ-Y6DwntvT9TF/s400/DSCF2536.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk8L8Xt7wg14HUYrD-zPrdOTg5V52NQR39ML0ZRAK_rGMDuL0SSqhP52MBOzQWsJu7aB5ml7D3AGtfGHAAf3suqQd3VIJ0MrSuyEV70TmO2_ghuUzjlBkZ9Db9rvHZ9EFgD0Yd6hMT5F-K/s1600/DSCF2538.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk8L8Xt7wg14HUYrD-zPrdOTg5V52NQR39ML0ZRAK_rGMDuL0SSqhP52MBOzQWsJu7aB5ml7D3AGtfGHAAf3suqQd3VIJ0MrSuyEV70TmO2_ghuUzjlBkZ9Db9rvHZ9EFgD0Yd6hMT5F-K/s400/DSCF2538.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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My hubby and I really love oysters, so when we saw the huge USA Taylor Oysters going at only $5 per piece, we just kept wiping our saliva off our mouths! Sheng Siong was selling oysters, slightly smaller, at $6.90 per piece and we would have to shuck it ourselves, so $5 oyster here is a definite steal!</div>
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Then we ordered some sashimi from Oceans of Seafood and had them sliced and served immediately. The salmon was ordinary, but the swordfish was really thick and juicy! You won't get the cheapest sashimi here, but I bet, it must the one of the freshest, you can get in Singapore.</div>
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After we finished with our oysters and sashimi, our kids were dying of hunger. They can't eat the raw food, so they were rather edgy watching us enjoying our food. We went on to explore the rest of the food stores and came across one selling paella, which looks really really good. My kids refused to go until we bought them a portion of that giant pan of paella.</div>
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While looking for a seat, we passed by a store selling suckling pig. I would have bought some if I hadn't just had suckling pig at my aunt's place a day before. But this piggy looks so tantalizing!<br />
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Look at my cheeky son, doing his personification of the suckling pig. I just love this little guy so much!</div>
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Down the stretch, another store was promoting its crackling pork belly, giving out food samples. My children rushed up and were unembarrassed to ask for some. My gosh, I have raised some of the thickest-skinned kids ever. The crackling pork belly was indeed very tasty, so we ordered some.<br />
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My kids couldn't wait to sink their teeth into their delicious dinner that they had picked out on their own. They enjoyed the food so much that within minutes they had the plates cleaned out!<br />
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There is a store which sell wines and they were also giving out samples to taste, but I was with the kids so I had to give it a miss. Glass bottles and hyper kids, in confined area, is definitely not a good idea.<br />
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After filling up their little tummies, we were able to continue to explore the other side of Pasar Bella, where there are stores selling from organic fruits to fun balloons, all lined up neatly and their products merchandised with so much passion and pride.</div>
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Anybody with young children know that it is almost impossible to shop with kids tugging your clothes' end every few minutes, getting your attention just to show you their latest <i>discoveries. </i>So we were glad to deposit our kids in the TV corner of an organic shop while we continued to indulge ourselves with the sights and scents of Pasar Bella.<br />
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When we were done, we picked up our children and went in search of a good dessert. My daughter was glued to this shop selling pastries and macaroons. But they aren't gluten-free, so I had to convinced her to give up the idea.<br />
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Pasar Bella transported me out of Singapore, I felt as though I was in a different country, where market flavours are bursting with innovations and excitement, like those in Europe or other western countries. Hubby cautioned the sustainability of such a place, where he observed to have many more curious 'one-time' visitors, then loyal, long-term consumers.<br />
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I don't know, maybe he is right, because I will be heading back to my trusted Fair Price Finest for my next grocery shopping trip. But Pasar Bella will always be my<i> once-in-a-while</i> escapade, since I haven't got any chance to go to Europe or USA.<br />
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<strong>PasarBella @The Grandstand Bukit Timah Singapore</strong><br />
200 Turf Club Road<br />
Singapore 287994<br />
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Phone: +65 6887 0077<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">THIS IS NOT A REVIEW OR AN ADVERTORIAL FOR PASAR BELLA.</span></i></div>
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<br />Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-82002465485198310452013-07-31T23:28:00.000+08:002013-07-31T23:28:18.073+08:00My Parenting Styles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My kids are 3.5 and 5.5, and they are really great kids! They love to go to school; I never had any problem with them attending full day childcare from day one. They eat whatever vegetables and fruits gladly, I never had to shove greens down their throats or force them to eat healthily. They shower and brush their own teeth before going to sleep on their own, leaving me time to watch TV or surf net. Every morning, they wake up on their own without the use of alarm clock, regardless of which day it is or where they might be. More than half the time, they are well-behaved and sensible. And all this while we do this without canning, spanking or smacking. Just a little screaming... Ok, some screaming.<br />
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If you are going to comment that I am lucky, well, maybe a little, but you are so going to need an awful lot of luck if you want to have well-behaved children without some form of effective parenting.<br />
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So what's our secret? A magic potion or a charm? No, we didn't do drugs.<br />
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<b>The word is RULES!</b><br />
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I tell my children that every country has their governors and their laws. Well, in this household, I am the governor and I make the rules!<br />
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<i><span style="color: orange;">Rule #1 - Always listen to your parents.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="color: orange;">Rule #2 - You will always follow the daily routine that has been set. Example: Wake up, Clean up, Eat Breakfast etc.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="color: orange;">Rule #3 - Do not use tantrums, threats or violence. They will not get you anywhere or anything. Oh, actually, they do, they get you punishments (time-out).</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="color: orange;">Rule #4 - Meals are to be consumed seated in the dinning room. If you do not want to finish your food, I respect your decision, but no other food will be provided to you until your next meal.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="color: orange;">Rule #5- The use of TV, Internet, Ipad, mobile phones are restricted to a maximum of 1 hour per day as a total. Permission must be obtained. Usage can, and will, be denied subjected to your behaviour.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="color: orange;">Rule #6 - No entertainment of any form can be access until all necessary work are completed.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="color: orange;">Rule #7 - When your parents say "No", you do not seek out another adult. See Rule #1.</span></i><br />
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<b><i><span style="color: orange;">Consequence: You will be punished (with time-out) if you are defiant or when you break the rules deliberately. The length of punishment is varied in accordance to your behaviour. </span></i></b><br />
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I know what you are thinking. With all these rules and punishments, won't my kids be repressed and feeling miserable?<br />
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Well, my kids know that I am strict, my decisions are firm and usual final, and I give in to no nonsense, but above that I love them and I love them hard. They turned out to be well-adjusted, resilient, energetic and happy.<br />
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Don't they ever misbehaved? Yes, of course they do. Come on, they are just kids, they do have their 'moments' at times. Some 'stress-relieving' tantrums had to be thrown, then they just had to be thrown. But the key is to show them that we are consistent and principled and for that, I am very fortunate to have my husband sharing the same vision and parenting goals with me.<br />
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I am nothing close to a Tiger Mom, but I will never allow my kids to demonstrate behaviours suggesting that I am an ineffective parent. All I can say is, I love my children, but I have never been so much of a kid-loving person and I happened to have zero tolerance of kids who behaved as though they are the fucking kings or queens.<br />
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<br />Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-42717967138370189562013-07-09T23:00:00.000+08:002013-07-10T21:41:19.239+08:00It's Who I Marry, Not How I MarryLast Sunday was a special day for my hubby and I; we celebrated our 6th wedding anniversary. Six years isn't exactly a long time, but it is enough for me to know what a lucky bitch I am, to be married to a wonderful man who loves and take good care of me and our family.<br />
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That afternoon, we were out at a relative's wedding luncheon and someone asked him, "Where are you going to celebrate your wedding anniversary later?" He tried to keep everyone in suspense, including me and replied, "Don't know. Maybe some hawker centre." He refused to tell me where we were going even when I told him I need some clues in order to decide what to wear. Well, that was typical of him, always likes giving me surprises, and always succeeds.<br />
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So, when we reached Singapore Flyer, I was half convinced that we were going to have dinner at Singapore Food Trail, which is a food court featuring many Singaporeans favourite hawker dishes.<br />
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Then he led me to the Flyer Lounge and smirked when I asked, "Aren't we going to have my favourite Satay Beehoon, Cuttlefish Kang Kong and Poh Piah?"<br />
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The panoramic view of Marina Bay Sands bathed in the setting sun welcomed us. The lounge access is exclusive, making the whole Sky Dining experience very VIP-like.</div>
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We relaxed and chilled out at the lounge until our dining capsule was ready for express boarding. No queue - how cool!<br />
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We shared the capsules with 3 other couples, but it was still very private compared to having dinner in a restaurant. And not to mention, the view was to die for. But as I thought we were going to eat in the hawker centre, I didn't prepare a camera!<br />
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The food was alright, not quite for the gourmet critic, but very filling. Hubby order lamb for me (he knows I love lamb) and chicken for himself. We dined through two rotations, which was about approximately an hour. It was very romantic and view was truly breathtaking, although this dinner was a bit too pricey - close to $300!<br />
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What present do you get for a man who has everything? I have no idea, so I dedicated my second short <a href="http://myexplicitworld.blogspot.sg/2013/07/my-second-short-story-breathless-love.html"><span style="color: yellow;">story</span></a> to him as our anniversary present. What a brilliant money-saving move! Hahaha... No. I am not that stingy. His present is late; I ordered it quite some days back but and hadn't know that the delivery would take forever.<br />
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In retrospect, we didn't have a big wedding, no customary practices, no grand dinner in a hotel (just a simple ROM reception), but all those are not important to me or us. The fact is - My life just gets more and more awesome each day because of who I marry, not how I marry. And for that, I am eternally grateful already.<br />
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<br />Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-72511268805801444192013-07-07T14:00:00.000+08:002013-07-07T16:35:14.234+08:00My Second Short Story - Breathless Love<span style="color: magenta;">I started writing this story more than two years back but never got to finish it. I finally dug it out and gave it an ending. </span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><br /></span>
<i><span style="color: magenta;">To my hubby, </span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: magenta;">Happy 6th Wedding Anniversary! You give me some of the best moment of my life! I love you!</span></i><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
There was soreness in Kristine’s throat, her mouth was dry,
her body was aching and there seemed to be a percussion playing in her head.
What a horrible hangover, she thought to herself. As her senses slowly aroused,
she became clearly aware of her surrounding and this was not her hotel room.
Kristine shot out of the bed only to realize that she was totally naked. Last
night’s memory came flooding into her head.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Kristine was desperate to get through the mad crowd who turned
up for the Ultra Music Festival; she wanted to get away from Bicentennial Park,
away from Miami, away from USA or perhaps away from this world.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Maybe I am just too old for this funk and punk.” She
thought to herself. As she worked her way towards the beachfront, away from the
roaring music, her tears began to well up. It was this sense of loneliness she
had been so eager to run away from but every time without fail, it will soon be
caught up with her. She must have walked for a long time along the cool sandy
beach, with only the sound of the crashing wave, she knew she had came to the
right place to unleash the grief that had built up inside her for so long. She
bowed her head low and sobbed uncontrollably.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Are you…OK?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kristine was startled by a voice.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The voice quickly apologized, “I am sorry, I must have frightened
you. Erm…. I just want to see that you are alright.” And he handed Kristine his
packet of tissue paper.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kristine looked up, under the pale moonlight, their eyes
met. John’s presence had made Kristine felt surprisingly comforted. Maybe it
was John’s striking Asian look with that all too familiar accent, in a foreign
land. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Maybe you could use this.” said John as he passed over a
bottle of vodka. “And maybe this too.” He continued; patting his upper torso
and his bright smile seemed to have lightened up Kristine’s tension.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kristine smiled weakly as she downed a shot of vodka which
immediately knocked her breathe out. She found her voice and said, “Kristine. My
name is Kristine.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kristine did not recall very much, except John had also
found his way out from the madness of Ultra Music Festival and had been the
most wonderful listener. He had the broadest shoulder and the most muscular
chest Kristine had ever cried on. She remembered John stroking her hair when
Kristine poured out her feelings to this complete stranger, she found solace
in. It was absurd, but this tall, handsome man who came out of nowhere gave her
the sense of security that she had craved so much for.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kristine’s train of thought was suddenly intruded by John’s
presence as he walked in on the naked Kristine “I sorry, I didn’t know you are
awake. I am just going to leave this here.” “Those are clean clothes from
Karen, my housemate. And she also had you cleaned out of your puke last night.
Oh.. In case, you are wondering, I slept on the couch last night.” John shouted
behind the closed bedroom door.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kristine giggled like some high-school girl. She liked John.
If only she was still a carefree young woman. Kristine sighed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kristine led a glamorous life back home in her country. At
the age of 28, she had achieved what many young woman would only dream of. She
was an owner of 5 international high fashion boutiques, an extreme wealthy
socialite who appeared so frequently in magazines for the rich and famous, and
the trophy wife of Ng Beng Lee, the self-made billionaire, who made headlines
some ten years back with his late wife’s controversial suicide.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hey! I made you breakfast. Hope you like eggs and bacons!”
John called out to Kristine from the kitchen, sounding ever so bright and
cheery. Kristine felt her morning had never been better before. “Eat up. After
breakfast, let me see you home, wherever home might be for you.” John winked.
He was so sweet, he melted Kristine’s otherwise frozen heart. “I don’t want to go
home.” Kristine blurted. “I mean, I am not ready to fly back home. I am on a 4
weeks vacation and I just landed yesterday. Why don’t you be my guide?” “Oh,
it’s my honor. This spring break’s vacation job of mine is going to be fun,
definitely better than Karen’s waitressing her ass off in the cafe.” John
flashed his infectious smile.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kristine had the best time of her life in the last ten days,
spending them with John by her side. They went biking in the Valley of the
Butterflies, laid beneath the great willow tree at Denver Park, shared an
ice-cream in sunset, watched movies under the starry nights, danced in the rain
and fell asleep in each other arms in front of the television. Kristine was
living her life now; she had been a lifeless puppet long enough and for the
first time, after so long, she realized she had a beating heart filled with
immense contentment.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a warm summer night; it was almost as hot and humid
as back home. The thought of going home depressed Kristine. John had stripped
to his trunks and jumped right into the tiny swimming pool in the backyard
after he failed to convince Kristine to join him. Kristine was at the kitchen
counter overlooking the pool, sipping red wine sulkily as she watched John
lapping up and down the pool. Suddenly, there were no splashes from the pool.
“John?” Kristine called out. “John!” There was no response. Kristine panicked.
She jumped off her seat and dashed across the kitchen, pushed the door wide
open and there she saw John’s body sinking to the bottom of the pool like a rag
doll. Kristine jumped right into the water and dived in to reach for John only
to have him grabbed her by her legs and popped out of the water together.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What the fuck, John! You are nuts!” screamed Kristine. John
couldn’t stop laughing. “It’s not funny, John. You are making me so mad!”
Kristine began to cry. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh, sweet. I am so sorry. I thought that was the only way I
can get you to come into the water with me. I don’t mean it.” John immediately
apologized and hugged her close to his chest tenderly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kristine’s tears continued to flow. “Hush now. Everything is
alright. I promise I would never do anything like that again.” John tried to
assured her. Kristine buried her head into John and said softly, “I thought I
had lost you there.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
John gently held up Kristine’s face, swept the water off with
his both hands, “I will always be here for you, as long as you want me too,
Kristine.” Their eyes locked, John moved his lips closer to Kristine’s; she
surrendered herself into John’s kiss. Their passion ignited, Kristine felt like
she was on fire, she wriggled out of her wet clothes and their bodies
interlocked as they sank to the bottom of the pool, with their mouths on each
other, John sucked the air out of Kristine as plunged himself into her.
Kristine threw her head backwards and moaned with pleasure, sending ripples
across the calm water. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kristine made love; it was the first time that sex felt so imitate.
She surrendered herself to John who injected life into her. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
************</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kristine had been depressive since she flew back from USA, a
month ago. Not a moment had gone by without her thinking of John. She made a
cruel departure, leaving John while he was still asleep. She had the best
moment of her life in those four short weeks but that was it. And she knew very
well that she didn’t deserved to love and to be loved for she sold her soul a
long time ago, in exchange for a lifetime of luxuries that many would have been
envious of. The majestic bungalow she lived in, her expensive sport car, her
fame and her fortune had cost her, true love.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ng Beng Lee had Kristine’s arms and limbs cuffed to the
poles of their opulent bed, his face was twisted with a lecherous grin as he
bit and squeezed Kristine’s breasts like a ravenous wolf. Kristine just lay
still like a piece of dead meat; her mind wandered off, she tried to imagine it
was John and not the disgusting Ng Beng Lee who was tearing through her
delicate skin.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hey, you slut! Are you sleeping or are you dead.” Ng Beng
Lee slapped her across her cheeks. “This is going to make you scream.” Ng Beng
Lee took out a new toy; it was a dildo in the most enormous size that Kristine
had ever seen. Ng Beng Lee stabbed it deeply into Kristine. “Ahhrrgghh… “Kristine
was greeted by the intense pain; she squirmed pathetically to break free only
to get Ng Beng Lee more excited. “Now, you are awake, bitch!” He jabbed the
dildo into Kristine, picking up speed as he went, making her shrieked with pain
and pleasure.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hot tears flowed out of Kristine’s eyes as she was freed
from the bed. The cuffs had cut into her wrists and her ankles; she tried to limp
slowly towards to bathroom. Ng Beng Lee caught her by her hair and shoved her
face at his manhood. “Clean me.” He commanded. As Kristine kneeled over the
towering Ng Beng Lee, licking him like a dog, he told her meanly, “You better
thank God that I am not sick of fucking you yet. So don’t give me the kind of
face like I owe you something. And my son is returning home this week, like it
or not, you better pretend to be happy.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ng Beng Lee was on the phone when Kristine struggled to get
up on her feet. From a distance, she could hear him speaking to his son’s
doctor; a world class shrink who the rich and famous looked up to. “Thank you for
the past ten years, Dr Gillman. My son would never be well again without you…”
“Serve you right to have sick bastard.” Kristine muttered softly. All Kristine
ever know of Ng Beng Lee’s son, was he left for the States, a very sick child,
and had spent the last ten years in and out of the hospital, receiving multiple
treatments. Kristine wasn’t looking forward to Ng Beng Lee’s son’s return. Like
father, like son, Kristine thought to herself.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kristine spent hours sitting inside the bathtub. She was in
so much pain; she can’t tell if they were physical, mental or emotional.
Memories of John filled her head, she felt extremely tormented. She would give
anything to be with John again, even if it meant her life, she thought to
herself. As she drifted to sleep in the tub she dreamt of being in John’s arm,
tears flowed from her eyes controllably.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It had been more than ten years since Ng Beng Lee sent his
only son away. Ng Beng Lee had always felt a great sense of guilt for his son.
He hated for his son to grow up alone in a faraway land. But it seemed to be
the only right thing to do then, after seeing how damaged his son became after the
death of his mother. The once polite and charming little boy became violent and
dark. He would lock himself up in his darken room for hours, only leaving it
when he had to be taken by force to his psychotherapy sessions. His psychiatrist
diagnosed it as post-traumatic stress disorder, triggering a second
personality, which acted as the coping mechanism for the deeply traumatized boy. Chinese
medium suspected he was possessed and Ng Beng Lee was desperate to save his
only son who had turned into a sinister young boy with a horribly twisted mind.
He knew he had to send his only son away or risk seeing him grew into a monster
- a monster more hideous than himself.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
John Ng, Ng Beng Lee’s only son, the man that Kristine was
growing sick missing, had returned home. Kristine couldn’t believe her luck,
but she wasn’t sure if it was good or bad luck that her perfect man, John, was
his sadistic husband’s son!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When John walked into the house with Ng Beng Lee, Kristine
stood rooted to the ground, she did not know how to respond, and it was all too
shocking for her. She made up an excuse and hurried up the stairs, where she
hid in her room. Her breathe was shallow, her hands were icy cold and her legs
had turned numb. She felt incessantly guilty for making out with her husband’s
own son, but at the same time she was suppressing an incestuous thrill of
seeing John again. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It had been two days since John’s return; Kristine had tried
to stay away from home. She knew she couldn’t do this forever but she hadn’t
thought of a good way to face John, she was ashamed; ashamed to be the wife of
Ng Beng Lee, ashamed of being John’s stepmother whom he never met until now. It
had just past midnight when Kristine returned home from a fundraising party,
instead of heading up to her bedroom, she wandered into the garden, alone.
There she sat herself down and tears started to fall. Under the bright
moonlight, her tears gleamed like jewels. She was indeed a beautiful woman,
despite her detesting life with the obnoxious Ng Beng Lee.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Sweet, are you going to go on avoiding me?” Then Kristine
felt a pair of strong comforting arms embracing her from behind. “Oh, John…”
Kristine felt a gripping pain in her heart and a lumped formed in her throat.
Their eyes met. John grabbed her face with both hands, pulled her to his chest
before pressing his lips over hers. Their tongues possessed each other.
Kristine whispered, “I miss you. I miss you so much.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ng Beng Lee had his blood drained completely off his face,
when he caught his twelve years old son ripping their foreign helper’s blouse
while riding on top on her. A plastic bag was fastened tightly over her head
and her hands were tight up with some cables. “John! Let her go NOW! You are
killing her!” His son looked up, with a demonic pair of eyes. He said it slow, in
a low growling voice; it was a voice Ng Beng Lee wished he had never heard,
“Shut up, you old fuck. I will be careful this time.” Ng Beng Lee found himself
screaming as he jumped up from his sleep. He was soaking in his own
perspiration on a hotel’s bed. His under-aged and pricy prostitute stared at
him with fear written all over her face. Ng Beng Lee ignored her totally. He placed
a palm over his dampened forehead, rubbing it hard as if he was trying to erase
the terrifying image that was coming back to haunt him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kristine and John had been very discreet and were careful
not to be seen together at any part of the house, Ng Beng Lee’s house. They had
managed to keep their secret rendezvous under wrap and had waited for a long
time for Ng Beng Lee to be finally away; he was attending a business conference
in China. Kristine and John had the house to themselves for some nights and
they just could not keep their hands away from each other, from the moment Ng
Beng Lee left. As they cuddled on John’s bed, enjoying each other’s affections,
Kristine asked curiously, “Baby, I heard you were sent to the States for
treatment because you were ill. Have you recovered? What was wrong?” John
turned his face to meet Kristine, there was deep sorrow written all over it and
it broke Kristine’s heart to see him like that. “Baby, you don’t have to tell
me if you don’t want to.” Kristine comforted, stroking his chin lightly. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No. Sweet, it’s good that you know. Ever since my mother
died, I had night terrors. In those nights, I felt as if I was trapped in a small
pitch-dark box and I could only hear the familiar voice of a woman. She seemed
to be talking to someone. Someone, like, her child, I think.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Do you love Mummy? If you do, you will do as I say. Your
name is Don now. Hit me, Don. Harder! Hit me HARDER!” recalled John looking
pale and distressed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Then a mixture of screams and cries would fill me up until
I suffocate. Usually, I would go into an epileptic fit which wiped out some of
my memories before anyone find me unconscious. It was .. Terrifying.” John said
quietly. Kristine held up her finger to John’s lips and stopped him from
continuing. Then she pressed her lips on her finger and gently sliding her
finger away, allowing her soft lips to caress over John’s. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After an intense session of love-making, John withdrawn
himself out of Kristine and then collapsed, breathing heavily on top of
Kristine. “Sweetie, we can’t go on like this. I need you. I need you to be mine.
You.. no. We have to leave my father. Let’s go back to the States, where we
were once happy.” A tear rolled down Kristine’s cheek, she nodded and tightened
her arms around John. She was exhausted but filled with hope; she thought John
would never ask. She had wanted to elope with him, the day they met. They
hugged each other passionately and fell into a deep slumber, naked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kristine stirred; she was lying with her face down, her legs
were tied up. She tried to open her eyes but she was blindfolded. She wanted to
reach for her blindfold only to realize that her hands were bounded by some tapes.
She screamed but could only manage muffed sound, her mouth was taped shut. “On
your knees now” It was a low growling voice of a stranger. “Who? What’s going
on? Where’s John? Is he hurt? No… Stay away from me!” Kristine’s head was spinning;
she felt nausea swept over her. Before she could decide if it was fear for
herself, or for the safety of John, a fist was shoved violently into her
vagina, tearing her apart, followed by slaps raining on her behind and then her
nipples were stung by several swift pinches. She wanted to scream but she
couldn’t. Hot tears were gushing out from her eyes, soaking the blindfold. She
was now on her knees while her ass was being rudely violated; just as she
thought the worst would soon be over, she felt a noose over her head and then
something gripped her throat. She gagged and choked then convulsed as her
assaulter let out a groan, as he finished off his last thrust. Kristine had
passed out cold.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kristine’s mouth was dry and her body was in a lot of pain, and
she was still in restrain. She rubbed the blindfold against the edge of the bed
to free her sight. She was finally able to peep with one eye as the blindfold
flipped slightly above her left brow. The room was dark and silent. “John.
John.” She called out softly and cautiously. Then she spotted John, who was
lying face down on the ground. “John! John, wake up! Are you alright? No,
please. John!” She sobbed hysterically.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
John moaned as he picked himself up from the floor, still
naked, he placed his hands on his temple as if his head was hurting. He blinked
several times and jumped up to his feet when he saw how badly Kristine was
battered and tied up. “What the fuck just happened, baby?” John asked. His face
tormented as he freed Kristine.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kristine was in such a terrible shape, she just couldn’t
stop crying, “I don’t know. I couldn’t see. I woke up and… and….” She couldn’t
bring herself to continue.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I am so sorry,
sweetie. I am …Shit! What the fuck! I thought we fell asleep and then… Fuck! Oh,
my God, I didn’t know, I must have gone into a fit just now.” John pulled
Kristine into his arms and cried. They never left the room for the next couple
of days, only briefly for some food and water, Kristine just wanted to be in
the embrace of John and John wanted her just as much too.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ng Beng Lee stepped into his house and was surprised to find
it so quiet and empty; he walked up the stairs and entered his study. He was
startled when he saw John sitting on his swivel chair, holding a stack of photos
in his hands. “Oh, no!” Ng Beng Lee felt his scalp prickled and goose bumps rose.
“Those photos.. John. Put them away!”<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hi, old fuck!” John spoke, his face contorted with grimace
as he released the photos from his hands, allowing them to litter themselves on
the floor. As he made his slow exit, he paused and stared into Ng Beng Lee’s
eyes. The same pair of cold, murderous eyes from ten years back, they seemed to
pierce straight into Ng Beng Lee’s mind. He swallowed and a chill went down his
spine when he saw John’s twisted lips mouthing the words, “I am back.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After what seemed like forever, Ng Beng Lee composed himself
and bended over to pick up the photos. He brought the photos over to the steel
bin, hovered them over a lighter, setting them ablaze. His late wife in shackles
and cuffs stared back at him from those photos. Then one smaller sized photo
slipped out of his grip and dropped into the burning pile. It was a three years
old John, sitting tall on Ng Beng Lee’s shoulders, looking happy, looking
innocent as can be. Ng Beng Lee started to weep.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At breakfast, Kristine lied to Ng Beng Lee that she had to
help out at the wedding of a business associate and would be staying a night in
the hotel where the dinner would be held. Ng Beng Lee let out a grunt and kept
his eyes on his newspapers. Kristine took the chance and winked at John, who
was trying to hide a smirk. With John, Kristine felt rejuvenated, it was as
though years of ageing had been lifted from her and she was finally able to
feel youthful, even though she was six years older than her young lover. They
went out in the sea, renting yacht, watching the sun set beyond the western
horizon. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“John, don’t ever leave me, please.” pleaded Kristine as
John wrapped his arms around her from behind and placing his chin lightly on
her shoulders. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Never” John assured her, kissing her hair gently.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Baby, we have to think of a way to leave.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Sweet, we will.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The sun must have got to me.” Kristine thought. Her skin
was hot and she felt weak. “Or it could be too much sex.” She suppressed a
giggle. John was asleep beside her; Kristine examined this gorgeous young man
with rock hard abs, glowing black hair and a very sexy face. “I can’t believe I
finally found true love.” She smiled to herself.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Please, Mummy, I am scared. Don is bad; I don’t want to be
Don. No…” Kristine looked warily at John who seemed to be having a nightmare,
talking in his sleep. “My poor baby, losing his mother at such a young age must
have devastated him. Hmm.. I wonder who’s Don.” Kristine thought as she placed
a comforting hug over John who seemed to be in a daze waking up from his all
too familiar nightmare.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Drive slow. Try to reach home fifteen minutes after me. He
should be at home this time of the day.” instructed John. Kristine looked at
him longingly and planted a chaste kiss on his forehead before walking over to
her own Mercedes SLK, a very slick silver car, which she was ready to give up
for the love of her life.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When Kristine pulled up at the driveway, there was a huge
commotion going on. She quickly stepped out of her car only to see two men in
some clinical white uniforms dragging John towards a black SUV. John was
struggling to break free. Ng Beng Lee was standing at the door, with a wretched
expression. Beside him stood a white man who looked like he was in his late
fifties, holding what looked like a syringe and was heading for John. “Do it,
Dr Gillman. Now.” Ng Beng Lee shook his head with despondency.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“John!” shouted Kristine. Her voice was desperate.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
John looked up and saw Kristine. The two men holding John
were momentarily distracted, allowing him to slip from their grips. John
hollered as he ran over to Kristine’s car, “Get in the car. NOW!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The SLK sped off at top speed, leaving Ng Beng Lee chasing
and screaming wildly, “NO!! Stop! Stop the car now!” The car was out of sight
within seconds.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Perhaps it was the chase that had heightened Kristine’s
adrenaline level; she threw herself at John kissing him ferociously after she
had parked her car. All her senses are pricked and she had never felt so
erotic. “Don’t let them separate us, baby. I can’t live without you.” She urged
as they stumbled into the apartment which Kristine had newly bought, with the
lips locked firmly on each other. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
John was quiet. He had not spoken a word throughout the
journey. Maybe he was badly shaken, thought Kristine to herself. Who were those
men? Has Ng Beng Lee found out? There were many questions in her head but she
was not seeking for an answer. Not right now. For now, she had only desire to
make love, passionate love to the man she would die for.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
John suddenly reciprocated her sexual urge in a deviant,
almost brutal way, sticking his tongue far into her mouth, exploring her before
biting her on her lips. Then he reached for her top, ripped off the buttons and
yanked off Kristine’s bra. This had made Kristine more wanton. Secretly,
Kristine had preferred sex a little rougher. “Oh John, you being so kinky!”
Kristine gasped breathlessly. John did not reply, he pushed Kristine face front
onto the sofa and proceeded to tie her arms behind her back with her bra.
Kristine looked on ahead shyly and asked in a whisper, “You like to play? Spank
me, baby!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
John took off his pants and then slides his belt off from
them. He looped his belt over Kristine’s neck slowly, sending Kristine panting
with lust. As he plunged his erected manhood into Kristine, he pulled on both
ends of the belt, denying Kristine of air. Kristine was shocked at first but felt
an orgasmic pleasure built up instantly. She had never felt more aroused than
now. She moaned and groaned as she exploded into waves and waves of
contractions as John continued to slam into her.</div>
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“A<span lang="EN">sphyxiophilia. Your</span> mind-blowing orgasm induced by strangulation.
You love this, don’t you? Now my turn.” John finally spoke, but it didn’t sound
like him, it was as though he was someone else. “The voice, it’s familiar, like
.. That night!” Kristine turned around. It was John alright, but he had so much
evilness in his eyes. Before she could figure out, her neck was compressed too tightly;
she was choking and coughing while she tried to get John to stop. But John
seemed to be in a trance. He was riding Kristine like a jockey on a horse,
pulling mightily on his belt and watching Kristine’s face turned red, and then
purple and then lifeless. He shot his load into the limp body of Kristine. As
he collapsed onto the ground, he moaned breathlessly, “Ahhh... Mummy.”</div>
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************</div>
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Ng Beng Lee dashed through the doors and had straight away known
the suspension bondage had gone terribly wrong. He cut the rope and then frantically
loosened the noose over his wife’s neck with his trembling fingers. As he lay
her naked body down on the floor, he noticed her face had turned purple and her
wide-opened eyes were blood shot. She wasn’t breathing anymore. Ng Beng Lee
yelled at his twelve years old son, “John, what the fuck have you done to Mummy!”</div>
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John replied slowly and impassively, "I am Don, not John." as he
sauntered out of the dungeon of pain and pleasure.</div>
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Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-87394710118080152252013-06-15T22:15:00.002+08:002013-08-18T22:44:07.397+08:00Ritz-Carlton's Legendary Service<div class="entry">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCKdB6WyiyekJk8ANoQMdufddamrL7mXkayhtfo2HPA9iJ_hUjTVWckih4zwuS6akYXyIhM1d01EkmR8C-A2UY8s6DjpQCFRDxli2WZL4wSFGOhtSrsL80Vre4xczFMlvYOB8dx0eHmgO5/s1600/DSC_0718.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCKdB6WyiyekJk8ANoQMdufddamrL7mXkayhtfo2HPA9iJ_hUjTVWckih4zwuS6akYXyIhM1d01EkmR8C-A2UY8s6DjpQCFRDxli2WZL4wSFGOhtSrsL80Vre4xczFMlvYOB8dx0eHmgO5/s400/DSC_0718.JPG" width="262" /></a></div>
I was one of the organizing committee for my company's 2D/1N annual convention and D&D held at Ritz-Carlton this year. To be honest, we didn't have a
good time working with the people assigned to help us make the convention and
D&D a successful one. There were many delays and they weren't seem to have
that initiative and flexibilities I would have expected from this luxurious hotel
which is legendary for its service.<br />
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Anyhow, my company's convention and D&D went on quite well (because we have the most dedicated team of committee *wink*), and so I had no complaints. Sure, I get fruit basket, chocolates and a million-dollar view from my room, but I wasn't "wow" by
the services I received, until I fell ill the next day.<br />
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I was
supposed to be having team-building with my company, but I woke up feeling so sick, I
had to give it a miss. At 12 noon, it was time to check-out, but I could barely get
out of bed, I knew then that this was more than simply a hangover. I phoned the front desk and asked for late check-out as I couldn't as much as make it out of the door of my room. The front desk took a few minutes to check and called me back
shortly, asking with much concern if I needed help or medical assistance and assured me that they
had my room extended until 3 pm.<br />
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I crawled back into bed, feeling very relieved
that I didn't have to check out immediately because I was breaking out in cold sweat whenever I tried to be up on my feet. About 45 minutes later, the door bell
rang, I dragged myself out of bed to open the door, thinking it was my colleague who
had came to check on me, but it turned out to be two of the hotel staff. Mr. Afiq, whom I had
spoke with on the phone earlier regarding the late check-out and an assistant manager, Ms.
Riri; they probably knew I was too weak to join my colleagues for lunch in the restaurant and had brought me some porridge and fruits so that I wouldn't go
hungry. And they also told me to rest well and if needed, they would extend my check-out to a later time.<br />
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Apart from the food, they also brought me a 'Get Well' card signed by both of them, plus many of the staff in the hotel, wishing me speedy recovery in many different
languages, I was very touched by this very thoughtful act. Their kindness had
changed the way I think of the hotel just a day ago.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi38isWcnSItm9wDrrlFU8JrRbkffi270k2-6JF-kHaP0sudcIpHOqD-aPBlSPIDvgU09qbfWfYun-JTKT3s9jbZcHh3Fur6aDkwNKzYdERp96A5kxYSeIFTwWXY5TqhnLPDtb_jAfnyH9C/s1600/DSC_0734.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi38isWcnSItm9wDrrlFU8JrRbkffi270k2-6JF-kHaP0sudcIpHOqD-aPBlSPIDvgU09qbfWfYun-JTKT3s9jbZcHh3Fur6aDkwNKzYdERp96A5kxYSeIFTwWXY5TqhnLPDtb_jAfnyH9C/s400/DSC_0734.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Ritz Carlton might not have the
best people to deal with corporate events, but they certainly have the best
ground staff that care for their guests beyond expectations! And they had truly inspired me to search for opportunities to create unforgettable moments for my customers.<br />
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Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-82831037905862487302013-06-08T00:13:00.002+08:002013-06-08T00:14:47.697+08:00The Good, The Bad and The Terrible Life of a Parent<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I am not the most patient and loving mother out there, and I am also quick-tempered and gets cranky whenever it's the time of the month. Hence, often, there would be clashes of the titans at home, starring myself and my barely 6, going 16, years old daughter.</div>
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In the recent months, my daughter has been pushing my buttons all over the places; by getting distracted when I was trying to teach her spellings, ignoring my instructions, getting herself upset over the most trivial matters, refusing to accept punishment when she misbehaved. I could go on, but I won't want to, because she can be the sweetest and the most adorable creature at times.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj3Gg6x7aO6yLcxxpcq8ia3tRCE9OR_eX1GjBMWRdLXhB3jV5d8bALaVhF999mzXVkNMIR2wjFCyAxUGDSmi9V3sGoEjRqlWtRoMqyI-FlphZlRr3pRfU2YQfapIx_5o_Mq_dz8fQ46O98/s1600/w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj3Gg6x7aO6yLcxxpcq8ia3tRCE9OR_eX1GjBMWRdLXhB3jV5d8bALaVhF999mzXVkNMIR2wjFCyAxUGDSmi9V3sGoEjRqlWtRoMqyI-FlphZlRr3pRfU2YQfapIx_5o_Mq_dz8fQ46O98/s400/w.jpg" width="268" /></a></div>
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Last month, she made me a little book for Mother's Day. I am not the type of mom who keep stuff made by my kids and become all mushy and sentimental. I always tell them to give me money whenever possible. But this little book was special!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCNOGeU8FM5jpTD1sr2mtQQYfsQOmAigSTyT9dR2QbGc3xg3JoPxWIxfmh2YJLQSu8TzRLdnb-5nOTyzpTphPnbOGsjJXgfgDIo7-pFQrerTazOZinshiQBN_gYtTU7jsFNhERipWKltPa/s1600/DSC_0757.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCNOGeU8FM5jpTD1sr2mtQQYfsQOmAigSTyT9dR2QbGc3xg3JoPxWIxfmh2YJLQSu8TzRLdnb-5nOTyzpTphPnbOGsjJXgfgDIo7-pFQrerTazOZinshiQBN_gYtTU7jsFNhERipWKltPa/s640/DSC_0757.JPG" width="436" /></a></div>
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It was written and drawn by my daughter, titled "Ten Things I Love About You!". Actually, I counted, it was lesser. Maybe, she ran out of good things to write about me. Hahaha...<br />
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Here are some very interesting pages.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNLLwtcRLzrUtSPkCCjOaUZCqJLb1C4FQSrkW1OVDjUutB43zpi-8smTN4aq5TBDvFnkj-0rBdC62auDEKA1gfTswLw6MvfNOoORzrk6ZYa_eZpuRVPz6oAH9D2LHn6PIFG53oNOPdV5Sx/s1600/DSC_0761.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNLLwtcRLzrUtSPkCCjOaUZCqJLb1C4FQSrkW1OVDjUutB43zpi-8smTN4aq5TBDvFnkj-0rBdC62auDEKA1gfTswLw6MvfNOoORzrk6ZYa_eZpuRVPz6oAH9D2LHn6PIFG53oNOPdV5Sx/s400/DSC_0761.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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She actually remembered I drove her to KK Hospital in the middle of the night when she had a fever that refused to go away. I almost never let any of my helpers look after my children in the night, and especially when they fall sick. Even though I might have work the next day, my hubby and I will insist to look after our own children. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1J_PFJd1zenmT1SD4adwSa8hFFj65ZPLbUav5SJVZ4pMlW_28pRnoHJ36eloMZXv9bJt2q8fSYNCLDcwdmMSZGnsE8IXqyDgj7IAzdPvZU99925R64lMY9gBGz2tEvoqSeg4mIf0NbCRK/s1600/DSC_0758.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1J_PFJd1zenmT1SD4adwSa8hFFj65ZPLbUav5SJVZ4pMlW_28pRnoHJ36eloMZXv9bJt2q8fSYNCLDcwdmMSZGnsE8IXqyDgj7IAzdPvZU99925R64lMY9gBGz2tEvoqSeg4mIf0NbCRK/s400/DSC_0758.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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I suck at teaching Maths, and most of the academic subjects because I am simply too impatient. But I make it up by imparting moral education to her. When she fights with her brother to be the first one to have her story read, I will ask her, "Is it more important to be first or to be good?". When she gets upset over petty matters, I leave her alone completely, until she calms down, then I ask her, "Did you see that only YOU have the power to control how YOU want to feel?"</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja7ybEqEMQUQ_kIE3_smvHDtCyFhM2TTGiNLGNgYxb-G4f-a8wQb3GVp89HT3R5zd9ksIxlAi4ZOfmFHCmXB9sJG79jPHrEAydDQf0btZ_SmvarblATBMxGMuNZBSvzGC733tZzGXIvkZ2/s1600/DSC_0759.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja7ybEqEMQUQ_kIE3_smvHDtCyFhM2TTGiNLGNgYxb-G4f-a8wQb3GVp89HT3R5zd9ksIxlAi4ZOfmFHCmXB9sJG79jPHrEAydDQf0btZ_SmvarblATBMxGMuNZBSvzGC733tZzGXIvkZ2/s400/DSC_0759.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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When I saw this next page, I choked. I tasted bile in my mouth and my eyes burned. </div>
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There was one day, I was driving her to school and we got into a massive fight, we were screaming at each other in the car. She refused to stop, I couldn't concentrate to drive any further. So I pulled over, and warned her about the possible consequences... but she just got worst and I spiralled totally out of hand. I whacked her across the cheeks. She cried, I cried. <b><span style="font-size: x-large;">It was horrible!</span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfTfA0nUPVIIMrSUCBAEslsvgccvlsocMLYyYCFLB2AhULtOj6PvadG5gB7CagjORcJZtNdOdDMpCdoHPtHMozslvBPV7qGCelibwmnIVP7n8iuGYGzMPUYGevHaRLWCy0OUAxDrAjpDeN/s1600/DSC_0760.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfTfA0nUPVIIMrSUCBAEslsvgccvlsocMLYyYCFLB2AhULtOj6PvadG5gB7CagjORcJZtNdOdDMpCdoHPtHMozslvBPV7qGCelibwmnIVP7n8iuGYGzMPUYGevHaRLWCy0OUAxDrAjpDeN/s400/DSC_0760.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Later that evening, she came home from school and apologized to me. We made up, but I guess, both of us could never forget that terrible day.<br />
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Why do kids have to be such devils at times and angels the next moment? My kids drive me insane sometimes. I admit, it can be extremely exhausting to be a parent, but I can never live a life without my children. Sigh.<br />
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<br />Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-68731172304634108172013-06-04T22:30:00.000+08:002013-06-05T23:24:40.768+08:00My First Sundown Marathon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I was never a runner in my school days; as much as possible, I would try to avoid running during PE lessons. I mean, who wouldn't?! Little did I know, I will pick up running only at the age of 35, and ran my first half-marathon when I am 37! Talk about late-bloomer.</div>
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It has only been barely two years, I have seen myself from almost getting killed by a 800 m run to completing two 10 km race last year with good timing for beginners (under 1 hr 20 mins), so this year to set the mark high, I went for 21 km at the recent Sundown Marathon.</div>
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<a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-NFxFpGV0W7Q/Uayh-8xyViI/AAAAAAAAI10/YvtptSVMY3M/s0/pt2013_06_03_22_01_05.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img height="400" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-NFxFpGV0W7Q/Uayh-8xyViI/AAAAAAAAI10/YvtptSVMY3M/s400/pt2013_06_03_22_01_05.jpg" width="290" /></a></div>
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Running along side of me was my dearest hubby, who kept me company for the first 5 km. During the initial 10 km, I was doing great. My energy level was high and my body was in good condition. The real challenge only kicked in after the 15 km. I had never ran anything past 14 km in my training. I knew it was a bit insane to jump directly for a half-marathon, when I didn't even know what my limit really has been.</div>
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True enough, after the 16 km, my left sole was hurting so much, I had to shift most of my effort to my right. Then not long after, my right leg threatened to give away with occasional, but mild, cramps. I had slowed from a brisk walk to nearly a limp. My mobile phone had long ran out of batt. I had no music, no apps to keep me going. It was truly tough to get moving.</div>
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I kept pushing myself, even though I was beyond exhaustion. Along the route, I saw many runners dropping off like flies; some were sitting down and others had wondered off course. I would never give myself up like them, I told myself as I dragged on.</div>
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At the 18 km mark, I was experiencing so much pain from my back to my pelvis to the soles of my feet, doubts started to set in. </div>
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Why the hell did I sign up for this?! OK. Just this once and never again. It was an agonising 3 km to the finishing.</div>
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<a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-qpoGCYDQ1Go/Uayh_XGNFwI/AAAAAAAAI18/23qIMFpl73o/s0/pt2013_06_03_21_51_51.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img height="400" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-qpoGCYDQ1Go/Uayh_XGNFwI/AAAAAAAAI18/23qIMFpl73o/s400/pt2013_06_03_21_51_51.jpg" width="286" /></a></div>
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After 3hr, 29mins and 32 seconds, I finally crossed the finish line. The feeling was simply awesome. I only had one thing on my mind - I AM FAMISHED! I WANT MEEPOK NOW!</div>
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Would I do this again? </div>
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If you ask me on the day of the race, my answer would have been a very firm NO!</div>
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Ask me now, 4 days after the race - "Hmm... maybe... maybe not..."</div>
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Ask me again 6 months later - Perhaps I might just go crazy again and say "YES!"</div>
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<b><span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">I am not trim, I am not athletic, but hell, I just did a 21 km!</span></b></div>
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Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.10</div>
Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-47125922522401028192013-06-01T19:00:00.000+08:002013-06-01T22:58:40.412+08:00Montigo Resorts - A Second Chance<div class="MsoNormal">
On Boxing Day, Dec 2012, I returned home from Montigo Resorts,
Batam, infuriated by a series of horrendous experiences I received while I was
holidaying at the resorts. I sat down and wrote one of the <a href="http://myexplicitworld.blogspot.sg/2012/12/montigo-resort-when-terrible-is.html">worst review I had ever written </a>on my blog and also on tripadvisor.</div>
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Soon after my review was published, I received emails and
phone calls from the management of Montigo Resorts. Apologies were made and
they had extended an invitation to have me and my family back for a 2D/1N
complimentary stay. Seeing that Montigo Resorts was sincere to make amends and
had valued me as a guest, I told them I will be back, <span lang="EN-SG">however I wasn’t ready to return so soon. As I felt it would only be fair if I gave
myself time to calibrate, so that when I revisit Montigo Resorts, I would be
able to enjoy my stay without prejudice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-SG">Close to
half a year went by, and I was able to put the past behind and give Montigo
Resorts a second chance to impress me and my family. This time, I chose to
return on weekdays, believing that with lower occupancy, there would be no
excuses for their service to be compromised.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-SG">And I must
say, they went out of their ways to accommodate my requests. I had travelled in
from Batam Centre Ferry Terminal instead of Nongsa, where the resorts’ land
transfer is provided. Montigo Resorts made special arrangement for my family to
have land transfer for Batam Centre at no extra cost. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-SG">When we
arrived, I was rather taken back to see the GM of Montigo Resorts, Mr. Aloysius
Michael, himself, making a point to welcome us. Gosh! It made me felt like a
rock star!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-SG">They had
arranged for us to be put up at one of their finest villa, The Spa Villa, where
the villa has an extension to a little cabana with fantastic view of the
sea-front and the resorts’ spa. The cabana was one of the best places in the
villa to chill, unwind and to catch some amazing sunset! My husband and I spent some quiet time, lounging on
the bean bags and listening to the sounds of the night when our children had
turned in.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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I was very
impressed by the little details they put in to delight us – we were given complimentary
wine, fruit baskets, cakes and cookies, and even two stuffed toys for my young
children. There was also a hand-written welcome card by the GM.</div>
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Our villa pool was awesome! It was definitely the favourite place for my kids. They had recently started lessons on swimming, but they still can't swim without some help. My son, the dare-devil of the two, fell in love with jumping into the water. He was tireless, doing his little stunts.</div>
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<span lang="EN-SG">The
services that we experienced during our stay this time was phenomenal. Everything
was prompt and on time. I called up and asked for a kitchen knife to cut a
pineapple I’d brought, I was told they were unable to provide me with a knife,
due to some policy. However, they quickly offered to send someone to pick up my
pineapple to have it cut up at their kitchen instead. Wow! That was an excellent
initiative!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-SG">Everywhere
that we went, when we mentioned our villa unit (we stayed at #100), we were
treated with extra care and the staff seemed to know the profile of us very
well. While we were at the ‘unofficially opened’ Kid’s Club, a staff (we never
met him before) came along to play with my son and he asked about my daughter
(she was playing at the main pool with my helper and husband). Hmm… he must had
already ‘done his homework well’. And the same staff drove us back to our
villa, knowing exactly which villa we were staying. I suspect, there might even
be a picture of me pinned up on their staff notice board, marked “notoriously difficult
guest, handle with care!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-SG">The most euphoric part of this trip was our DIY roof-top BBQ that we had. We brought along some chicken wings that I had marinated back home, beef steaks and lamb kebahs and bought more food at the local supermarket. My super husband bought some moscato at the duty-free to complete our star-lit dinner. After dinner, we lighted up some fabulous Kong-Ming lanterns and sent our wishes up into the sky.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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If my last
trip at Montigo Resorts was hell, this trip must be heaven! Everything was near
to perfection! Yes. It did feel staged, but at least, they had proven to me
that they are capable of providing top-notched services if they want to.</div>
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<span lang="EN-SG">If you enjoy more pictures and less words, check out <a href="http://our-tenderlovingcare.blogspot.sg/2013/05/our-second-trip-to-montigo-resorts-batam.html">my other blog.</a></span><br />
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Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-61177331306114975022013-05-17T23:56:00.001+08:002013-05-20T22:08:32.943+08:00My MomMother's Day is long overdue. I didn't get to celebrate with my mom this year, coz my kids were down with Hand, Foot, Mouth Disease. A few days before Mother's Day, I called my mom on the phone and broke the bad news to her, I apologize to her as I couldn't bring her out for dinner and neither would I want her to come over to my place because my kids were infectious. She comforted me, "No worries, we can always have dinner, any day, as long as the kids are healthy. Go, take good care of them. Mommy will be fine."<br />
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My mom was diagnosed with terminal cancer in 2008, she fought a good battle through chemotherapy, radiation therapy and mastectomy. While she still has cancer, she is trying everything she could to stay health, and fighting to stay alive for her children as well as her grandchildren. Her immunity is weaken by the chemo drugs she is taking, hence I didn't want her to have any chance of catching the dreadful HFMD. The best precautionary measure seemed to be keeping her away from my kids. But we all miss her terribly.<br />
<br />
The last time, I saw her was close to a month ago, I was busy preparing for a business trip, then I was away and when I came back, the kids were unwell. So she insisted to come over to my place earlier and cook dinner for my kids. We absolutely LOVE my mom's cooking. But my Laetitia had not been clear of HFMD yet, so I was worried. I called my mom this afternoon and told her not come, but she assured me that she isn't afraid. She wanted to come and keep my daughter company since she was barred from school for more than a week now, and my mom reckon my daughter would be thrilled to have her around.<br />
<br />
While still on the phone, I confided in my mom about some recent unhappiness I was having with my daughter's impermissible behavior and her unwillingness to comply. My mom listened patiently to my ranting. When I finally ended. She said this to me gently, "Girl, just let it go. Look at Mommy, I used to be worried and get upset easily, then I got cancer and now I realized that a lot of things are not as important as it seemed. Let it go, don't be like me... Anyway, I am going over to your place now. See you later." And she hung up.<br />
<br />
I held on to the phone as a tear rolled down my cheek. Yes. My mom is right, I have to learn to let go.<br />
<br />
Just now, after dinner, she showed me her hands and feet, they were extremely dry, peeling, darken and her nails are falling off! This is one of the many side effects of the chemo drug that she has to withstand. I gave her some <a href="http://myexplicitworld.blogspot.sg/2013/05/review-of-physiogel.html">Physiogel</a> cream to bring home, but it sadden me to know that I can't relieve her of any of the sufferings. This feeling of helplessness is unbearable.<br />
<br />
Many of the friends she made, when she was receiving treatments in KK hospital, had passed on or are in really bad shape now. I don't know how long more I will have my mom around. The morbid thought terrifies me.<br />
<br />
Earlier, I saw a post on FB, it says "I wanna donate my life.". I didn't have a close friendship with this person, but strangely, I left a comment, almost out of sheer desperation.<br />
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"Yes, give it to my mom, she needs it. She wants to see her grandchildren grow up. Thank you."<br />
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Even though, I knew it can NEVER be possible, still, I ask for it - An almost zero % chance that my mom can have the life that someone takes lightly and make good of it, I want it.<br />
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<br />Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-34293802189482866882013-05-15T21:20:00.000+08:002013-05-15T22:04:41.597+08:00Review of PhysiogelMy first encounter with the brand Physiogel when I was pregnant with my first child (about 6 years ago). The skin on my ever-growing belly was so stretched and dry, I was told I must apply some lotion in order to prevent stretch marks. So I tried many brands, including expensive ones like Clarins Stretch Marks Control and cheaper ones like Palmers Cocoa Butter, but they left me itching like a monkey with fleas. My gynaecologist suspected that I might have sensitive skin, so she prescribed Physiogel Lotion for me, and it worked like wonders!<br />
<br />
So I used Physiogel Lotion during my second pregnancy too because I knew it will work perfect for me, just like the first. Although I still get some stretch marks and loose skin, but at the very least, my skin was well hydrated, it didn't itch and I was absolutely confident that Physiogel is safe to use during pregnancy.<br />
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After the births of my children, I stopped buying Physiogel as I thought I didn't need it any longer, until my daughter started showing signs of dry skin and eczema on her limbs when she was four. I tried applying many creams and lotions on her, but didn't see much improvement, so again I turned to Physiogel, and I bought her the Physiogel Cream.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ5M52YkRiV0cVGJDUPMMLoTjfzQK0VExamBKh7qQbV0RU_rXjcusb3vj8dKrRN3_TNpZjr7bkFoL1iO-SriqHpIC79t_0Ng7EBcuWWncQt4M78yv1ucCWwlwf4w7WbVgEwwB1bH-2sWO-/s1600/DSC_0645.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ5M52YkRiV0cVGJDUPMMLoTjfzQK0VExamBKh7qQbV0RU_rXjcusb3vj8dKrRN3_TNpZjr7bkFoL1iO-SriqHpIC79t_0Ng7EBcuWWncQt4M78yv1ucCWwlwf4w7WbVgEwwB1bH-2sWO-/s640/DSC_0645.JPG" width="360" /></a></div>
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So when Physiogel approached me to do a review for three of their products, Physiogel Cream, Lotion and Cleanser, I was more than willing, since I am already so familiar with the Cream and Lotion. But I knew little about the Cleanser.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6NiLieviosPmLnawfqx3cvW_TY7ieAUXweOdxp8U46UT7q8vYkp23RfZ1j5ZtqO0S6LLbJA6AEN_9mz4W7H9eKRl6PzDUZ7ooUu4-30fOx9Z1JbJLlf0wz6uZeldCsNXgGK_717gH3el3/s1600/DSC_0703.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6NiLieviosPmLnawfqx3cvW_TY7ieAUXweOdxp8U46UT7q8vYkp23RfZ1j5ZtqO0S6LLbJA6AEN_9mz4W7H9eKRl6PzDUZ7ooUu4-30fOx9Z1JbJLlf0wz6uZeldCsNXgGK_717gH3el3/s640/DSC_0703.JPG" width="438" /></a></div>
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Physiogel Cleanser turns out to be a hypoallergenic, soap-free (doesn't lather) cleanser that cleanses, soothes and softens, without drying the skin, unlike shower gel or soap. Its non-greasy formula (like a lotion) maintains skin pH balance and is suitable for all skin types, even babies can use it. It can be rinsed off or just tissue off with wipe or cotton wool for delicate skin (like those of the babies).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFNAmY46-FtzTVPOLPqa-scdpfsmJ6YVDoHmfC5sgv2Qquj9PwPULNjQbUQ2_777xctaLq7pzKUUBHQre34rHPlA1K1X7sp1Rb9m3tZkuvo-HJZcHlNLXQnzhjuZ2pe48oU-f9oQuwT3by/s1600/DSC_0705.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFNAmY46-FtzTVPOLPqa-scdpfsmJ6YVDoHmfC5sgv2Qquj9PwPULNjQbUQ2_777xctaLq7pzKUUBHQre34rHPlA1K1X7sp1Rb9m3tZkuvo-HJZcHlNLXQnzhjuZ2pe48oU-f9oQuwT3by/s400/DSC_0705.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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No bubbles, no lather? Is it clean? That was the question I had as well. So I try it on my own before I use it on my kids. I use a black ink pen and made a scribble on my skin. Then I put some Physiogel Cleanser on my skin, and I massage it in circular motion until the ink disappear then I rinsed it all off. It was clean and clear!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKaLbFEFX9CAdraFqCT5Lrn1UjtqQJ4ZEbhSxX1kSdsAtQEZY26DEgEE9uWkFzhMpRmVcugwiauJtAtszamo_1DSBYfEWNQSymXXtTt2JRpKNRhW36zu-5-UAgQwQiefa-Qxp_B54km-sn/s1600/DSC_0706.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKaLbFEFX9CAdraFqCT5Lrn1UjtqQJ4ZEbhSxX1kSdsAtQEZY26DEgEE9uWkFzhMpRmVcugwiauJtAtszamo_1DSBYfEWNQSymXXtTt2JRpKNRhW36zu-5-UAgQwQiefa-Qxp_B54km-sn/s320/DSC_0706.JPG" width="282" /></a></div>
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So I have started using Physiogel Cleanser on my kids for about a month now, and Physiogel Cream faithfully on my daughter's dry limbs. Here are the results:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwfSivtmEqJ0FYQgBCKobvQih-ZnC7IOqsLQjGb6uqPJZlbUg6Jrm7PJJqamYmgg5fQZqOF-3A_cpyVfjlUzwAg2oBen_PjRuDudLgg-X-Rw-cIyQIocc0mZbiCF3Tn6LLl0vcSOwfWqT3/s1600/DSC_0626.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwfSivtmEqJ0FYQgBCKobvQih-ZnC7IOqsLQjGb6uqPJZlbUg6Jrm7PJJqamYmgg5fQZqOF-3A_cpyVfjlUzwAg2oBen_PjRuDudLgg-X-Rw-cIyQIocc0mZbiCF3Tn6LLl0vcSOwfWqT3/s400/DSC_0626.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Before and After</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV9LE1Har9rp9dxwhuK5pJcxeuJjANsXKPgvR_gat6fUkmekp0o_Ok2jrm4Ex3dBw00wgzyAWZAvnIeuTQnLCCMVyFLariKVD-zRwxwNIveTP-QgxouG4dnYtydB6p1Q77-J_t5-DsbAXx/s1600/DSC_0717.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV9LE1Har9rp9dxwhuK5pJcxeuJjANsXKPgvR_gat6fUkmekp0o_Ok2jrm4Ex3dBw00wgzyAWZAvnIeuTQnLCCMVyFLariKVD-zRwxwNIveTP-QgxouG4dnYtydB6p1Q77-J_t5-DsbAXx/s320/DSC_0717.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The skin on the creases of the back of her knees has improved. The dry, thicken patches of skin on her feet has appeared less red and she has been having lesser complains about the itch on her legs.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhft1JSVFaBME26_AA3Y4HxavBkyZxki8TyrsMChCbTUf88nvcL4OJEdRYk8LZSCa4S23RcZ1d7NIhiOm1LFvRmU88VEcZlUsfRpwTC5-TbBgsYqvmIxiGazkoUBXOj6pAGST9Y_-6ki_Q8/s1600/DSC_0716_mr000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhft1JSVFaBME26_AA3Y4HxavBkyZxki8TyrsMChCbTUf88nvcL4OJEdRYk8LZSCa4S23RcZ1d7NIhiOm1LFvRmU88VEcZlUsfRpwTC5-TbBgsYqvmIxiGazkoUBXOj6pAGST9Y_-6ki_Q8/s320/DSC_0716_mr000.jpg" width="193" /></a></div>
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Physiogel is so kind to throw in 3 bottles of 300 ml Physiogel Cleansers for 3 lucky readers residing in Singapore. To get a chance to be one of the three lucky winners, you just need to:<br />
1) Share this post on your Facebook page.<br />
2) Take a screen-shot of your sharing on Facebook<br />
3) Lastly, email me that screen-shot, your name and mailing address to myokiki@yahoo.com.sg<br />
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This give-away will end a week from today, on 22nd May 2013, at 12am. Late submissions will not be considered. Winners will be randomly selected and will be contacted by email on the delivery details. I reserved the right to choose the winners, my decision will be final, dispute will not be entertained. Only for readers with valid Singapore addresses only.<br />
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<img height="400" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-QkoHnW5dQY8/UZNBvahAP5I/AAAAAAAAIf0/1SpXzn-sudA/s400/CYMERA_20130515_160304.jpg" width="225" /><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Disclaimer: This is a sponsored review for the products of Physiogel. The above comments are my experiences when reviewing the complimentary products I received.</span></i><br />
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Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-56224983873356761642013-05-12T14:50:00.000+08:002013-05-12T21:34:14.008+08:00How Do You Live?<span style="font-family: inherit;">Wake up in the morning, get sandwiched in a crowded train, start work, deal with some amazingly stupid people/ situations, ponder over what to eat for lunch, leave work, stuck in the rush hour traffic, reach home, eat whatever that is on the dinning table, if you have kids, you try to bond with them but really, you just want to plant your fat ass in front of the telly, taking in whatever crap that is shown on it because your mind is so drained that it probably couldn't take in anything intellectual anyway, the last thing you feel like doing is shower and then curled up in bed. Next day, you repeat these acts again, while at the same time, you are praying for weekends/ your day off to descend quickly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Finally, weekend/ day off is here, before you can milk it or at least make it seems anywhere close to being productive, it's gone! And the scariest part is - it didn't end here, you have this going on for months, years or decades.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I believe many people can relate to the above. Don't get me wrong, I like stability, and routine suits me quite fine, but having life repeating itself, put me in some auto-pilot mode, before I know it, I'd stopped feeling and when I feel, it was only frustration.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I thought my recent trip to Japan gave me a good break from my monotonous cycle. I was hoping for it to spark off some insight to my repetitious life, it had, but it wasn't enough for me to figure out my own bafflement. Then came this video. <i>(If you are reading this Robyn, thank you.)</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Before you sign this video off as sort of bullshit and believing "this must be some happy dude who didn't understand how crappy my life is", you better know that David Foster Wallace was tormented by years of depression before he finally end it all by taking his own life. It's an irony, I know, but if a sick man can, try as he might, to control his mind, the healthy ones have absolutely no excuses.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">With the media splashing our senses with crimes and corruptions in Malaysia; brought to new heights by the recent election, I couldn't help but ask a Malaysian, why would any decent Malaysian citizens want to continue to live in such a decadent land. She explained that beyond all the madness we read about her country (which to certain extend is true), "Malaysia is still a nice place to live in" - her own words. And I thought I saw twinkles in her eyes when she spoke about her country.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It becomes clear to me - Every cities, every towns, every country, just about any parts of the world, there will NEVER be a perfect place. But we have the ability to exercise the control over what we want to think, and how we want to feel. We only see what we want to see, it's just that simple or is it?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I know, it can never be easy, coz most if us just want to see things negatively most of the time, maybe is the default way we view life. We just have to remind ourselves that our paradigm can be shifted with the right choice of thoughts and we are the master of our own thoughts.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So it's about time to turn off the auto-pilot mode, 'wake up' and take charge, regardless of where or how we live.</span><br />
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Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4881645720858457257.post-56796678477752902302013-05-10T20:40:00.000+08:002013-05-11T13:51:55.318+08:00Japan Solo - Shinjuku, TokyoFor the third and final instalment of my Japan Solo blog post, I will be wrapping it up with a little bit of Shinjuku, Tokyo and some of my deranged rants. (You can find the first two entries of my trip <a href="http://myexplicitworld.blogspot.sg/2013/05/japan-solo-narita.html">here</a> and <a href="http://myexplicitworld.blogspot.sg/2013/05/japan-solo-yokohama.html">here</a>.)<br />
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I am 37, it should be too early for mid-life crisis, I should believe. I have a job which I enjoy, a family to love and to be proud of, I live in one of the most desirable city in Asia, but it hadn't stop me from wondering if I would be better off somewhere else. Some places where I don't have to raise kids in a competitive rat-racing society, where living is about enjoying the moment, at a pace where we can all stop and smell the roses. Where I can sit and watch the sun goes down without feeling the guilt that I had wasted a day being unproductive. Most bizarrely, I wondered if I would be better off living a totally different life from the one I am having right now.<br />
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And with all these questions boggling in my head, I travelled to Shinjuku, Tokyo. Staring at the intimidating Japan subway network, I thought the best solution was to consult the information counter. Perhaps, the lady working at the information counter <strike>wanted to play a prank at me</strike> misunderstood my intention and gave me the wrong direction.<br />
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After more than an hour on the train (Shinjuku is supposed to be only 30 minutes away from Yokohama), Shinjuku was no where to be seen and realizing the scenery of my journey had taken on a more rural landscape, I quickly disembarked. After checking with another station's information counter, I was sure I had been misled.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjejW8fEVMf-lFsfMbLKMqF27axszCVEimbB3nJHCZxkjeabyRDmAyiCioFaCesBdyE2JYWNBBxJahBOo6JWhqunQR5-VQKJGJCCVAaNex2zxzKUofDbR8mE_lJfzM6zzhXYW9ZwUDKuuk9/s1600/DSC_0679.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjejW8fEVMf-lFsfMbLKMqF27axszCVEimbB3nJHCZxkjeabyRDmAyiCioFaCesBdyE2JYWNBBxJahBOo6JWhqunQR5-VQKJGJCCVAaNex2zxzKUofDbR8mE_lJfzM6zzhXYW9ZwUDKuuk9/s400/DSC_0679.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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I went to the correct platform and board the correct train. I had been lost for more than an hour. Now I know why there are plentiful of drinks and food vending machines on the platform, because there will be people like me who was lost, thirsty and hungry!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVX6uosIgOHQUlSmX9Hu_F7Jki0eOsvmSs6OQ2l2N44iaISl9-jv1JzSzgzNKcvfeWOrMrZj1Uh69CoJ4wUMHQVzV71PXE9PE7c65gWOSGIU8Jd0U_Fym7LIUeJC19cmhEtswNcLcy2Fij/s1600/DSCF2478.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVX6uosIgOHQUlSmX9Hu_F7Jki0eOsvmSs6OQ2l2N44iaISl9-jv1JzSzgzNKcvfeWOrMrZj1Uh69CoJ4wUMHQVzV71PXE9PE7c65gWOSGIU8Jd0U_Fym7LIUeJC19cmhEtswNcLcy2Fij/s400/DSCF2478.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Finally, I reached Shinjuku Station, the busiest and the most complicated station recognised by the Guinness World Book of Records.<br />
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Once out of the station, I was greeted by the kaleidoscopic floods of people, cars, building, signboards, etc. I visited some shops and Isetan departmental store for some work-related window shopping and the psychedelic amount of consumables were a little too much for me. I couldn't believe I would say this, but just after three hours in Shinjuku, I felt I had enough. I was overdosed. I desperately wanted to get out, to a place with less congestion.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg7AABkRLRoBdBG0nfuG65d4lSBNzD7djehKuDfCD8xqLyXauzEKSIFFyBCj57sye4UIUzfGU8MGdchnRU6O1fHVGl6yFYmuKBmhrpNsFCXse7M1TmX8L4eAi33uNowGGqCgrnd6kfvSUN/s1600/DSCF2450.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg7AABkRLRoBdBG0nfuG65d4lSBNzD7djehKuDfCD8xqLyXauzEKSIFFyBCj57sye4UIUzfGU8MGdchnRU6O1fHVGl6yFYmuKBmhrpNsFCXse7M1TmX8L4eAi33uNowGGqCgrnd6kfvSUN/s640/DSCF2450.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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It was my last day in Japan. I had prefer the quiet, peaceful town of Narita to the florid city of Shinjuku, for it reminded me too much of my own country. As I reclined into my spacious seat in Business Class, flying back, I thought to myself, "Maybe there really is a place out there, somewhere, that would be perfect for me, but it can never be perfect if I am not surrounded by the love of my family."<br />
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And speaking about perfect, it was perfect time to return. I was missing home; missing the smell of my kids and the warm body of my husband. Although, I hadn't figure out much of my life, it had been a worthwhile trip - a solo trip that I would never forget.<br />
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<br />Double Ls and Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04140600913200087090noreply@blogger.com0