Arrival imminent

Granny and Granddad arrive tomorrow. The last time they were in Hong Kong, I was about 4 months pregnant, and knackered. This time, the boys are just over 18 months old, so a lot has changed! one thing that hasn't changed is our lovely abode, Lei Shit Court, sorry I mean Lei Shun Court. We have just signed a new lease for another two year term, which led us to contemplate our previously slightly nomadic existence.

I think the longest we've lived anywhere was our house in Sawbo, where we lived for 2 1/2 years after we got married. So in no time at all, good ole 6G will be our most permanent home. Isn't that strange? I guess the cost and hassle of moving house with young boys will keep us in one place for a while!

Our rent only went up by 10%, which is very reasonable compared to friends whose rent increased 40%+.

Stones are funny

Look at moi, I'm parenting!

I love this blog. It's called 4 kids, 20 suitcases and a beagle. Today's post struck a chord with me, you might like to take a look.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

Isn't it strange how everything Christmas-related in HK bears lashings of snow? I hear it's the same in Aus. The ever-fascinating Hong Kong Observatory website tells me that the last time it snowed in Hong Kong (I was quite amazed to hear that it ever has!) was back in 1975.

November has begun, and therefore in Starbucks all the cups are red, and all the staff are wearing badges saying "Let's Merry!" Your guess is as good as mine. And while we're on the topic, who wants a Cranberry White Chocolate Mocha?! Minging.

As always at this time of year, I suddenly realise it is November and start looking forward to bonfires and fireworks. Except of course Guy Fawkes Night is totally irrelevant here, and fireworks are illegal.

Count Felix

We had our first experience of Hallowe'en this year. Well, I say first, but somewhere in the dusty recesses of my memory, I think I recall a hallowe'en party at Frederick Mansfield's house...I remember it because our Nanny wouldn't let me go back into the house to get my RSVP because we were already late leaving for school. Anyway, I digress.

Hallowe'en is a big deal here, and I've spent the last two weeks telling everyone that it just doesn't exist in the UK, but Facebook evidence is ruining my credibility. It obviously does exist, and looks to be getting bigger and bigger. Maybe the point is that when we were kids, nobody went trick or treating for Hallowe'en (but it was a great excuse to buy some sweets - "just in case"). Actually we also used to buy a pumpkin to carve up sometimes.

We went to two parties - the first at Kiddy Village in Taikoo Shing The boys tried out their costumes - I was terrified that they'd be super lame, but actually they looked great! Amazing what face paints can do. Tayla came dressed as Elmo, and she was absolutely terrified of the boys...whoops. Aiden was a skeleton, Emma and Helene were a cat and a mouse, and Christopher was superman. We had lots of fun.

The second party was at PIPs, the pre school at Parkview (famed for being the location of a dastardly murder - as fictionalised, sorry I mean recorded in Never Enough, which I read faster than any other book in my life) The school's enormous, and we had a little party in the playground at the back. It was a MOMs party, so there were lots of twins there. It was good, but I think it would be infinitely improved by the addition of a few bottles of champagne. I'll record that in my notes for next year!

The weirdest thing about PIPs is that there's a little plastic playhouse in the corner of the playground, which contains a miniature urinal and a miniature toilet. They're real. Plumbed in. Flushing. Cute or bizarre? I was torn. The boys decided that it would be HILARIOUS to pick up stones, and drop them through the window of the little house. I can only assume that by this time the combination of running around, cupcakes, slides, games and too many kids had made them delirious. Ross took a video, I'll try to get hold of it.

Joh san!

The wheels on the bus

Ready, steady, go!

The boys and friends pegging it around during Millie's not-a-baby-shower baby shower.

Hundreds, teasers and swan dives

I have started doing Pilates again, at Flex in Wong Chuk Hang. IT IS AWESOME. I cannot express how much I love Pilates. I guess it appeals to the disciplinarian ex-ballet student in me. I love proving to myself that I can still do it, after cough cough, erm, two years of nothing, I love seeing that my mind has way more control over my body than I realised, I love pushing myself further than I thought I could go (literally) and most of all I love staring at the ceiling, thinking about breathing, thinking about where my shoulders are, thinking about engaging my abs.

After the class today, the teacher Victoria (who is also awesome - and let me tell you I am super-fussy when it comes to pilates teachers) said she was surprised I hadn't done Pilates for a long time, because I can still do it all, and she said I had excellent physique. That might just be the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me! I don't care what I weigh, I care how I feel. And walking out of those classes I feel taller, stronger and most importantly happier.

Happy 18 months munchkins!

548 days ago, I was on my way from the delivery ward to the maternity ward at The Queen Mary Hospital.  I had Josh with me, but not Felix, he was up in the neo-natal unit for one night, so I had one night of singleton parentism!

We went to the Aberdeen Marina Club this arvo for a playdate, which was lovely. We don't go there often, and every time we do I really notice the big changes in them, how they behave, how they play, and how independent they are. It's a massive, massive relief that they are finally able to clamber around (padded) climbing frames on their own - Josh even managed to climb up and down the stairs unsupervised a few times so that he could slide. I know I'm supposed to supervise them, but that would involve me contorting myself to fit into the kiddy-sized tunnels and twisty turny slides. And frankly, the joy of being able to see them playing independently is so great that it even outweighs my immense guilt at not being within lunging distance of them at all times.

I had a super lovely afternoon yesterday, partly because I was with my BFF, and partly because BFF's helper Nora the Explorer came to help Vergie with the boys while we tai-tai'd. It is fabuloso knowing that there are two people looking after them and they are happy and active, not stuck inside because one person cannot realistically take them out alone.

Another factor in the loveliness was that I saw the boys from a distance for the first time really. Nora and Vergie were playing with them, then they held the boys' hands as they walked home with us. It was a bit weird to see them like that. They are ridiculously cute, and of course I see that every day, but seeing them as a stranger must see them, toddling across Lie Don Doh was a bit of an eye-opener. Maybe I should remove the blinkers more often.

Josh helping a kong kong doing his exercises in Victoria Park

Felix being a vampire

W, X, Y and .....Zed or Zee?

As the boys get bigger and start going to classes with structure, they are often singing the ABC song. Now if you ask me, that song ends "w, x, y and zed, now I know my alphabet..." then something else, I've forgotten the end. But the version that everyone (including britishers) uses here ends "w, x, y and zee, now I know my ABC, next time won't you sing with me."

This seems weird to me - are the boys going to grow up Americanized? Or internationalized? I expect they will say "heaps" instead of "loads", and they "won't have a bar of it" and spell it "vegies" not "veggies" but that's the Aussie influence (they are already addicted to Vegemite and were born on ANZAC day). Now, it won't come as much of a surprise to you all that I am something of a snob, especially when it comes to languages.

Already friends with school-age kids are worrying that they say candy instead of sweets (just to complicate the matter, the Aussie for sweets is lollies) Why do I feel so strongly that I don't want them to say chips instead of crisps? I think it might have something to do with a fear of them being bullied at an English school. But it's deeper than that too, it's always been there. I don't know, just my own little foible I guess.

Here in Hong Kong we have a curious blend of linguistic habits. The old melting-pot metaphor applies here, and I am only referring to the stuff written in the Latin alphabet. 

Of course it's easy to mock names - like the shop called Wankee Sports, or people with names like Purple, Champagne or Buffet. It's also easy to mock the difficulty that Canto speakers have distinguishing between L and R - see you tomollow, la! But it seems like the influence of many different cultures has seeped into common usage here.

Shroff, for example (Parsi for "one who deals with money") is very frequently used; everywhere from a car park attendant's hut to the hospital cashier's desk is called a shroff. A warehouse is a Godown (from the Malay "gudang"). Nullah is used to describe a sort of concrete reinforced gully for rainwater, it's from Hindi and is apparently hardly used anywhere except Hong Kong.

Hong Kong English has many idiosyncrasies, and perhaps the habit that we mock the most is for HKers to say "cannot". Cantonese is such a direct language, made up of simple units, that there is no custom of sugar-coating, as we would in English. No "would you mind" or "I'm afraid not" or "I'd be grateful if". Just CANNOT. And as much as we take the piss, I don't actually get cannotted all that often. It's more of an attitude I guess. 

It's ironic because the answer is so often CAN - yes, I can come and fix your water heater on a Sunday afternoon, yes I can continue to negotiate your flat rental at 10pm on a Friday night, yes I can bring you a keg of beer on a public holiday. Of couse the flip side of that is yes I can dig a massive great hole in the pavement without any protective barriers around it so that you and your ma chai can fall into it!

ps: I just took the boys out with me when I went to get coffee at Pret in Lee Gardens II, and I dressed them in jeans, socks and shoes and jumpers because it was a bit chilly. I explained this to Vergenia, who asked me what the temperature is, so I just looked it up - 25 degrees. Not exactly chilly.

Felix at the Toy Library

Sliding