Family Wedding

My brother Ed, is getting married to his girlfriend, E in May.

With this marriage, we have secured the best surrogate parents, super babysitters for Shane and Alix. This is why they are better versions of Shane and Alix’s real parents.

a)When they go out for dates, they often ask if they can bring Shane along. Why in heavens would a dating couple want to lug a 2 year old, eat at family friendly restaurants, plan their activities around naps, when they are supposed to be on a romantic outing, I don’t know. We just pack the diaper bag - in a hurry.

b)They've spent hours pc-loading the entire Thomas the Tank engine series and Wallace and Gromit series on DVD to entertain them.

c)When E carries Alix in the shopping mall, walking behind, I get jealous…you know those annoying women who post natally, regain their figures in a zip and still manage to look glamourous? E looks just like one of those flat bellied women, casually balancing a baby on her lap.

Imagine that after I lose my post natal weight, I’ll get closer to looking like Gwyneth Paltrow too, carrying Apple. Heh.

d)They have adequate sleep ergo, boundless energy and patience.

e)Generally, they possess a killer set of parenting skills including getting the babies to sit still on their high chairs, entertain them with their favourite videos, cute songs and games and feeding them variety of nutritious food such as freshwater fish which they will specially go marketing for.

After an entire afternoon with Ed and E, Shane comes back looking happy and slightly lost having landed back at reality. It soon becomes apparent that his real parents are boring him. That’s when, I try my best to console him.

“Sorry, its just us, your real parents. The set God gave you. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

petite fleur

on sundays, grandma comes to visit
you shy away, hang on tightly
as if afraid a gust of wind would blow you away

it takes some time for you to warm
then you’re ready
your arms reach out like petals extending to the sun

and she giggles in the sweet fragrance
which is our petite fleur
every sunday, it is the same refrain
take care of petite fleur
hold her tight
protect from harm
she is a gentle-lady

grandma looks at me with lines in her face
tired eyes which tell me that she is fast fading
I can’t bear to look

as if reading my thoughts
she reminds me again to prepare her will
in case she conks off
this I have been putting off

I laugh off her anxiety
as you hang on to me
I hang on to her
as she hangs on to you
our petite fleur

Wheezing

through a kick boxing class, it occurred to me that I’ve never seen so many fat bottoms. However, these fat bottoms are not hiding under long tshirts.

They are in slinky black tights
They are grooving
They are kicking some butt

And you know what? No one I’ve met in gym , even thinks that the roundedness of their butt is a bad thing. Its your womanly right! It’s the real woman in you!

There is nothing as motivating as another woman with a bottom bigger than your own, messaging you on your morning commute to work. “Going to gym today. CU there."

I wanted to run out of a step class because it got too fast but i was stopped on my tracks out by a a fellow fat bottomed chick, marching on a spot telling me that it was ok to catch my breath doing step....just don't quit.

Fat bottoms rule.

Fat Chick Club

I haven’t told you about the latest change in my life. I’ve joined a gym. A ladies fitness club actually.

All Shapes (great name huh?) is located in Joo Chiat. It was previously a gym for muslim ladies who needed a place to exercise. It is also a 5 minute walk from my home so I can slip in there on my way home from work.

I was relatively slim for the first two decades of my life. Then I turned heavier in my twenties - a kilogram for each year. Add five more for each successive pregnancy. I couldn’t shake off the added kilograms without doing anything. Running in the hot humid weather got me all sweaty. So many excuses.

Two weeks ago, I spotted the sign. ‘ALL SHAPES - A fitness club for women by women. Discover the Real Woman in you.’ I took the lift up and emerged into a fitness club. There was a group of very overweight women huffing and puffing to a circuit style of exercise. Every 30 seconds, a voice over a CD player would tell them to go on to the next form of exercise.

The next morning, I turned up for the trial session. I broke a sweat and made it through 30 minutes of continuous exercise.

For the last 2 weeks, I’ve been going almost everyday. The thing is, the ladies in this gym are very committed. They keep my motivation up. They are mostly Malay muslim women in their 30’s, 40’s and 50’s just trying to keep fit and look good.

There is a factor of feel good in this FAT CHICK club. I knew that this was the place when I saw a 100 over kilogram woman smiling while on the treadmill. She had lost over 20 kgs already. The feel good factor I guess, is knowing that others who are heavier and even older than me have made progress, then well, so can I. Among the fellow fat, I don’t feel embarrassed that I am panting after 5 minutes. We all have to start somewhere.

The trainer understands the psychology of shape. While holding my legs up for ab crunches, she remarked

”People do funny things when they put on weight. They wear looser clothes. They hang their head down. They stop buying nice clothes.”

Tick. Tick. Tick. The beads of sweat from my forehead trickled into my eyes causing them to tear.

Giving me a hand so that I could sit up, she looked through my sweaty glasses and gave me a look which almost caused me to choke – that of deep acceptance and belief targeted at me, me, me.

“I am a trainer and interested in results. After a month, you see the same woman coming in here with more confidence. They move better. They wear tighter clothes. They start to flower again.”