Could this be Ella?

I stumbled on this cute you tube clip on A Cup of Jo's blog yesterday.

It made me chuckle.  And, it made me think...

Ella has been taking ballet for a year and a half at a local community center.  The instruction is in Cantonese, similar to her local kindergarten.  She loves it.  A few of her friends from school and around Stanley all come together every Saturday for class.  The mummies love it too.  Who wouldn't love a bevy of little four and five year old girls dressed in pink tulle?

As Ella is now in pre-primary ballet, and she's five, she's old enough to do the Royal Academy of Dance examination.  As such, she's had extra practices on Sundays.  Last week, I overheard her teacher working with her on her curtsy.  She had shown me how it was done -- swaying from side to side and pointing her toes, then running up and putting her right foot behind the left, all while holding her skirt -- only a week or so before.  I thought she was doing quite well.  Then I heard the ballet teacher say, what happened to you today Ella?

I had a quick conversation with her to inquire how I might be able to help her at home, and she suggested giving her a CD to copy the music.  She also said that she thought Ella was getting confused with the addition of a new skill to her curtsy, which was causing her to forget to sway.  Ella seemed unhappy that she hadn't done well, so I took her to our school dance room for some extra practice.  This week, the teacher said she'd done better.  Yay!

But, the reality is that Ella has two left feet.  She stumbles on tiny pebbles.  And though she tries, her sense of rhythm isn't exactly on beat.  So I wonder, thinking of Buddy, too.  Buddy LOVES soccer.  All his friends play.  But, getting into it later than the rest of them, his skill is still developing.  I worry about him not making the Tai Tam Tigers next year (he's also on the older end of his class, so must play in the year above his friends).

So I wonder what you mummies out there think.  How far do you encourage your children to pursue activities they love before accepting that perhaps they may not have much success?  I haven't given up on my children, don't get me wrong.  I'm just bracing myself for mending broken hearts if they are rejected.

What would you do?

Our reader

When he's not out on the field playing soccer, or in his room playing legos, we're quite likely to see him snuggled up somewhere (on the couch, in his bed, on the floor, or in some chair) like this.

Nose in a book.

He's ripped through all the Diary of a Wimpy Kid books and is moving onto How to Train Your Dragon books.  I don't think he's quite ready for the Harry Potter books, but it won't be long.  What I love about him reading all these books is to see all the drawings that they inspire.  We have lots of dragons and vikings lately.  And always, a vivid imagination in the things he thinks about and tells us about.  What stories!

And, it's quite a miracle to find him still enough, for long enough, to get a picture of him these days.  So, reading is good for that, too.

Any suggestions for good eight year-old books?

Need a laugh?

I stumbled upon this hilarious blog through Refinery 29 during my nightly browsing last night.  It's called Dead Man Porn: The Most Bangable Dudes in History.

Basically, this woman takes suggestions from readers about hot guys from our history and analyzes their accomplishments, which prove their hotness, in a pie chart (totally tongue-in-cheek).

Like this man, Lewis Powell, a would be assassin, who also also loved to care for sick and stray animals.  What a guy!

Take it or leave it.  It made me laugh.

Budding artists.

Buddy has long been an artist.  He loves to draw, to make his own comics, to capture what he sees around him in pictures.  Ella is also following in his footsteps.  And, I know I've written about this before, I've noticed the evolution of their drawings.  Ella's still mostly into drawing people, where Buddy is into drawing scenes and places.

These days, it's the details that are most interesting.  Buddy's drawings show incredible detail - each leaf on his banyan trees (yes, detail even down to the type of tree--he's doing this at school), the branches, the bricks, the armor.  He draws on such a small scale now, too.

Notice how she put her name in pink.  She always finds a way to use pink.
She's also given the bird some eyelashes.

Ella's details are equally as elaborate.  All the girls she draws (and yes, she mostly draws girls) have this gorgeous curly hair, the eyelashes are long and lush and she's into drawing ears with earrings.  Such a girl.  And always, if she's drawing herself, she draws the sprinkle on her forehead.  It seems like almost daily, she will draw a picture of her with one of her friends and then bring it to school to give to her.  I'm sure this little girl has a drawer full of drawings from Ella by now.

Given their artistic inclinations (and the lack of art being taught at Buddy's school), we enrolled both kids in art classes in Stanley last year.  There, they learn technique, sketching, and painting.  Both eagerly look forward to their art classes and talk enthusiastically about what they're working on.  And, we're starting to get a big collection of their finished products.  I have grand ideas of displaying their artwork in the stairway up to our rooftop (because of all the natural light), but right now the space is being occupied by all of Joey's cans of tomatoes (for his now dormant pizza business).

Ella with her teacher and one of her good friends.

A few weeks ago, the kids' art teacher sent me the sweet pictures you see in this post.  I'll have to photograph some of Buddy's artwork to share, too.  Quite amazing.

Sew many ideas...

On my last two trips to Malaysia, I picked up some sarong fabric.  I've had these sarongs sitting in a bag, waiting to be turned into clothes for over two years.  I had ideas, when I bought them, that they'd make great skirts, or blouses, or something.  

A couple of them are already sewn into sarongs (stitched up ends to be large tubes of material), but that's okay because it's one less step towards being turned into a skirt.  

I've whittled away some of the fabric, and narrowed down my ideas to four projects using these fabrics.  

And, I have special plans for these two.  

The floral batik sarongs are usually for women and the checked fabric is usually designated for men's sarongs. I couldn't pass up either of these because of their vibrant colors.

Now, if only I knew how to sew (more than refastening a button) or knew someone with a sewing machine who could help me.

Grey skies

I found a grey maxi skirt!  No, it's not pleated like the one I've been coveting, but it gives the illusion of pleats because of it unique crushed viscose-like material.  And, the best part of finding this skirt is that I found it in Stanley Market, five minutes from my house.  Gosh, I love Stanley Market!

So, I threw this look together and thought I'd show you.  A little bit inspired by all the street style blogs I've been reading, I decided to throw on my oversized men's cardi, my black fedora-style hat, and some stripes.  And, what you can't see are my tights (it's a drizzly, cold and windy day here today).

Sheltered from the misty weather on my balcony.

It can be so fun getting dressed in the morning when all the pieces fit together as you imagine they do in your head.

By the way, my photographer this time was not my mother, but rather my sweet five-year old daughter Ella, who is always happy to help me with anything.  Especially when it involves posing (if she gets to do it first) and dressing up.  We tried using my SLR camera, but it was too heavy, so she used my blackberry.

She's pretty good, don't you think?

Ella poses so I can show her where to take the picture.

Just look at this face...

...and try not to smile.

You can't!

I think I have the sweetest nephew, ever.

Celebrating little things.

On Tuesday, Buddy came home to tell me that he was receiving a yellow card at school.  My immediate reaction was to wonder whether this was a good thing or a bad thing.  We're deeply invested in Buddy's soccer, so the yellow card analogy there is not a positive one.  Buddy reassured me, however, that his yellow card from school was to recognize his good behaviour on the bus.  He said he would be presented it in morning meeting the next day.  I beamed with pride and told him so, which made him melt into me for a cuddle.

Sure enough, when he arrived home on Wednesday, he had a yellow card along with a certificate of recognition signed by the associate principal himself!  Indeed, Michael had been recognized for good behaviour on the afternoon bus by the bus mother and rewarded by his school.  Michael's teacher, Mr. F, presented it to him with some fanfare that morning.  I could still see how happy Buddy was about this; he was bright as a button.

And, it made me feel good, too.  These days, it seems like more conflict with Buddy.  He argues.  He's opinionated.  He's disagreeable.  And, on any given day, it's a toss up for how I actually handle it.  I wish I could say I didn't let it ruffle my feathers, but more days than not, it does.  I constantly nag him.  About homework, picking up his things, not fighting with his sister, etc.  So, to be able to enjoy this, and to shower him with hugs and kisses and tell him how much it makes me proud, felt good for me.

Yesterday was a long day.  While all our HS students were out on interim trips this week (Joey and my mum included), I was given the job of assisting the emergency contact person with updating the google site for parents and teachers.  It's usually a busy week, but it became even more so when the earthquake in Japan hit yesterday afternoon.  We had three trips located there and my mum was the leader for one of them.  From about 2:30pm yesterday afternoon it was non-stop until I finally went to bed at just after midnight.  I ended up staying at school and working in the office until after 9pm.  I was relieved to talk to my mum at about 4:30pm and we were able to confirm that all trips were fine. ***

It certainly was not the day I expected when I left the house in the morning.  Needless to say, I hardly saw the kids and I missed our usual Friday family movie night, among other things.  When I finally walked in the door last night, Yaya said that Buddy wanted to wait up for me since it wasn't a school night.  He was up reading and waiting so he could see me before going to sleep.

I was glad.  I needed to get a little boy kiss before bed after the day I'd had.  And I was reminded once again, not by a yellow card this time, just what a sweet boy I have.  So I must remember to celebrate him more often.

***It was so busy yesterday that I hadn't had time to really process, for myself, knowing that my mum was over in Japan during this horrific tragedy.  It really dawned on me this morning, when I received her text to say that her plane was getting ready to take off from Nagoya.  One of the students on their trip, whose father is a pilot for Cathay, had flown to Nagoya to fly them home.  When they were welcomed on board, he made a special announcement to specially welcome the HKIS interim group and tell them he was going to take them home safely.  The relief I felt at that moment made me feel weepy and anxious to see her for myself.  She arrived home after lunch and the kids and I spent the rest of the day in her company.

To the maxi.

Skirt, that is.

Okay, sorry.  I'm going to do it again.  I'm going to post pictures of people I don't know wearing things I think are gorgeous.  Really, this isn't a shift in my blog to only discuss fashion.  I just like these big, long skirts.

Here are some that I found most recently on various street style blogs.  Paris is where it's at right now.  Oh, and an older one from London.

Mr. Newton, Paris.

Mr. Newton, Paris.

The Sartorialist, London.

I can't even imagine walking around on the streets in that beautiful black one.  

It's like being a ballerina.  All day. 

Maybe I should just go watch Black Swan and get it over with.  I do actually own two maxi skirts.  One from H&M and the other from Cotton On.  I suppose this means I should pull them out and actually wear them.  Hmmmm.  There's a thought!

Ella's compliment

I'm on my second week without Joe.  

(Don't worry, I did get him back for five days last week).  

We're surviving.

I was lucky enough last night to get out for a girl's movie night to see The King's Speech.  It was fabulous.  I love Colin Firth.

Two weeks ago, I went to see soprano Cecilia Bartoli with my mother.  I had been given tickets by parents of one of my students and thought it would be fun to go with my mum since Joey was in Guam.  It was a bit of a special night, since it was a school night, and it was also the official opening of the Hong Kong Arts Festival.  The parents who gave me tickets were in attendance as special invited guests for the opening.  The father sits on the board.

Anyhow, it was a night to get dressed up, and to enjoy grown up company in the midst of single parenting at home.  It was lovely.

Before I stepped out, Ella sized me up (as she usually does before I go out anywhere) and said, Mummy, you look like a girl from New York!

See?

Considering it was New York Fashion Week, I took that as a huge compliment.  I even had my mum take a picture of the outfit so I could tell my sisters.  Such a sweet daughter I have.  She then gave me the 20 questions about where the dress was from, and what color the lipstick was, and who gave me the earrings, and why I don't wear high high hills etc, etc.

The shifting patterns of sleep.

If you're a parent, you know what I mean when I use this phrase.  I think it's the biggest adjustment of having children; sleeping less.  Quite often it can be a battle.  There's always something that disrupts sleep: nursing, teething, illness, nightmares, bed-sharing.  The list could continue...

Watching our favorite book on bookflix - Chrysanthemum.

The most recent shift in sleep patterns has been Cally's.  Only a few posts ago, I wrote about how she'd slept through most of the night in her own cot rather than coming into our bed in the middle of the night.  Well, as with most things related to sleep, that didn't last long.  She's back to her old ways of getting up (these days by about 11 or 12) and she's into the bed with Joey and I for the night.  I still prefer this to trying to get her back to sleep by sitting in her chair with her (and inevitably falling asleep and spending the better part of my night there).  I think knowing she's our last little one helps Joey and I not get too stressed about this.  She'll sleep in her own bed eventually, and when she finally does, I'll miss these days.

Cally reads along.

But here's the new thing...

In the last two weeks, she's decided that when I put her to sleep, rather than singing to her (and the three lovies - Deary, Mao mao and Etta - and her drink of water) in her chair and snuggling till she drifts off to sleep, she would like to lay in her bed.  It started when Joey was in Guam.  She pointed to the door and said bed!  Thinking she wanted to start her night in our bed, I quickly refocused her and suggested she lay down in her cot.  She liked that idea and quickly settled in with her lovies around her and the banket covering her.  I, of course, was skeptical about if she'd actually go to sleep, but after having a little chat, patting her legs gently and singing our usual night time songs, she did!

Little did I know that two weeks down the road, I'd still be doing the same thing.  Let me recap.  Each night she asks to be put into her bed.  She points to her banket and asks to be tucked in with her lovies (and sometimes a lucky extra joins the gang of three).  She makes sure she has her water and then sits up and pats on her legs to signal me to pat them for her.  Then she proceeds to be very chatty about all her people - Lala seeping, Buddy seeping, Yaya Dodo do home, see mowow, etc - before asking for me to sing Mummy Daddy (what she calls Gundagai, our night time song).  To do all these things, I have to hunch over her cot and lean my head on my hands which I rest on the end of her bed.  Not the most comfortable position, mind you.

Despite looking really tired, I actually am not.

If I miss one of these steps in our new night time ritual, I am sharply reminded.

My sister and I have been having lots of conversations recently about sleep - mostly, when can she expect her son to finally sleep through - I wanted to give her a more uplifting answer, but I told her what my experience was.  I think I said something along the lines of there's always something that disrupts sleep and you'll never sleep quite like you did before you became a parent.  It was cold comfort for an over-wrought, sleep deprived, new mother.  What I should have followed up with was you'll never love the same way as you do once you become a mother and every sacrifice, even less sleep, is totally worth it.