I know of enough people around me and around the world afflicted by disability, sickness, death, divorce, financial burden, miscarriage, infertility, or even racial, religious, political and sexual discrimination to understand that there is no one-size-fits-all solution to family creation and management. And if I may say as way of compliment to the Board, I learned how to empathise with all of these people and all these situations through the various children’s books my family regularly bring home to read as bedtime stories to our children, just over the last 4 years alone.
The Blogfather truly believes there exists a capacity in every individual to empathise with all sides in any given issue – religious, atheist, straight, gay, local, foreign, young, old, public servant, private citizen. But that doesn’t mean I would stand blindly with any of these groups.
All The Blogfather is asking is for some love from one of Singapore’s most iconic landmarks. Is that too much to ask? I don’t know. But I’m asking anyway.
At the end of every work day, when I decide to leave at 6pm sharp, I do so knowing I leave a trail of talk behind my back. To some, my leaving on the dot is an inconsiderate act, a disruption of work processes, a disregard for timeliness, even disrespect. This mindset exists not just in my own workplace, but in many organisations around Singapore, if not the world, wherever there exists such things as an “office” or a “work culture”.
A few nights ago, The Wife came out of the bedroom and joined me on the living room sofa after Yvie and the confinement nanny had gone to sleep. It was about 11pm, and I was preparing for bed myself. After a couple of minutes, I heard a dull, rhythmic drilling sound that seemed to … Continue reading Why I Am Reading Breastfeeding Posts
It feels like every day, I see and hear things happening in our home that takes a little bit more of our soul away from us.
I’ve written at length about how stuff like this creates not just unnecessary moral panic but an otherwise irrational fear of anything and anyone that doesn’t reside within the confines of your home. And yet, yesterday someone asked me who does this kind of thing, and why these stories still persist.
I felt this incident deserved a post on its own, not just because it was completely unexpected and downright hilarious at the time, but you sort of get the feeling that the people in the ward are under a lot more stress than they let out.
“Noticed the solution bag attached to my IV had barely emptied since noon. Wasn’t until I received an injection of meds through the plug, and felt a sharp ‘pop’ in my vein before the liquid meds gushed through, that I found out my blood had clotted at the opening of the plug into my vein (the ‘pop’ was the clot coming loose).”
During my hospital stay, I managed to execute an unexpectedly popular microblogging event of my hospital experience (possibly due to my morphine-induced state; and these are all true accounts) on my Facebook profile that had everyone who was reading in stitches. Here are some of the best.
I was warded in hospital last week, and the most taxing part of the whole ordeal was really the fielding of questions when the wife and I decided to announce my hospitalisation. Here are our top 10 questions we feel you should never ask a guy when he gets hospitalised.
Having read the old tales, I will say with some authority that the Brothers Grimm qualify as the 17th century German writer’s equivalent of Quentin Tarantino. I mean, there’s a lot of sex in there! And violence!