home and design, let's play

three celebrations and an anniversary

This week has been a celebration of exchanging gifts and staying up late. Two best friends were throwing parties for their little ones over the weekend and my dad turned 65, so yep, it’s safe to assume that we were all hyped on way too much birthday cake. Which brought about alot of activities and progress around the house. We have very kind friends who love gardening and offered to help set the palm trees up with an automatic watering system. We are very keen on making this place as much of a garden as we can with this hot weather. We’ve done some research and experimenting, since planting and creating a garden is not that easy. Especially with the price of plants and little trees, you really don’t want to mess up and lose those babies.Much of the experimenting we did was in the vegetable garden. We didn’t plan ahead at all. It was more Georgie throwing seeds in the air and me running after him with tags which blew away the next day. The result is a jungle of pumpkins, cucumbers and tomatoes with some parsley and basil here and there. Oh and two aloe vera plants. But we have been blessed with produce and good ones. Ten years ago papa and I locked lips and that was it. We still celebrate the day every year. We’ve been married for four years but somehow that date doesn’t mean as much as the first kiss. I finally had a good excuse to get papa a Fender acoustic and he finally had a good excuse to get me a turntable. Yay! Pictures to come.My little dude was a dream throughout our busy week. He even jumped in the swimming pool all by himself in front of our very eyes. I almost fainted. He’s really into kicking his legs and holding his breath and jumping into our arms but this was new and it scared me to the point where it has kept me up at nights. I guess it’s part of growing up. Shit. That’s scarier, isn’t it? READ MORE
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montessori at home

Since commencing a never-ending love affair with books on parenting, which began shortly after Georgie refused to sleep or stop crying for hours on end, I have become a fan of the Montessori method. I find it’s preschool activities truly helpful and it’s overall simple approach to everyday life with a child an astounding revelation. Every single activity I have tried with Georgie has been a huge success. Sure, some he finds less interesting, but they all seem to stimulate something in him and I like that. Good control of movement and coordination comes from just handing him a jug of water and a bowl. Sorting coloured buttons and underwear, matching socks and helping around the house are also activities we love to do together, especially in the morning when he’s chirpy and well-rested. And I can’t help but enjoy myself so much. I mean, I get help with the laundry, people! By my two-year old! Just hoping to raise a good man. READ MORE
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Tiger Mother

I sometimes think about the kind of person Georgie will grow up to be. I think about the kind of things he will like to do and if he will be exceptionally good at one thing, talented, successful and focused. I catch myself thinking about these things when he’s talking to me, looking deep into my eyes, willing me to understand what ‘blath’ means. And then I stop. I snap out of it and curse the moment I read the Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. It is, I will dare say, a disturbing yet highly thought-provoking book on parenting. To be more specific, Chinese parenting. Amy Chua, mother of two, tries to apply this strict and anti-Western parenting method while living in the United States with her American husband. She doesn’t believe in sleepovers, school plays, playdates, television and video games and not being the number one student in every subject except gym and drama. Any grade less than A is not acceptable. To establish this, her children are subjected to piano rehearsals while on holiday; their mother tears up two handmade birthday cards disappointed with the lack of effort that has gone into them. Chua explains how different Western parenting is to Chinese with all honesty and rawness. Western parents care about their child’s psyche. Chinese parents do not. They believe their children can be the best, so why settle for mediocrity just because there’s a sleepover involved? They want medals and recognition, they expect obedience and to be made proud. Heartless as Chua’s actions seemed to me I had to take my hat off to her by the end of the book. She has produced two highly successful young women, one of whom has played at Carnegie Hall while the other was accepted (I think) to Julliard. But there’s more to the story than just accomplishment. She devoted endless hours to their cause, rehearsing with them , driving them to classes five hours away and leaving them notes on how to become the best. You just can’t say she didn’t care. Beautifully written letters and essays by her daughters express nothing but love and adoration for their mother, who finally partly surrendered to Western parenting by allowing her youngest, the rebel, to give up the violin and play tennis. They are grateful their mother pushed them to be the best. They apply the thirst they have gained through those tyrannical years to everything they do. READ MORE

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