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I’ve just returned from taking Lex to yet another specialist appointment – this time a paediatric specialist, who I was told is “the Miracle Man” – someone who could really help us understand what we are dealing with. As far as Miracle People are concerned, I have noticed a lack of specialists who seem to have any idea about the challenges parents face when dealing with a speech delayed child – but that’s another story. After a discussion and examination, he said Lex was neurologically fine, physically strong, and that intensive speech, OT and behavioural therapy are the most important things we can do right now – which is what we are doing. He said the main need is to focus on his speech, and with OT and behavioural therapy we can help him manage his emotions – in particular his frustration when he is not understood or struggling to achieve milestones. So that’s all good and what I’ve known all along. However, I went there today hoping he could help us understand why Lex’s behaviour can change so dramatically for a day, a week or a month. This dramatic change in behaviour (while challenging to deal with and the cause of a lot of problems, especially in the school environment) seems to precede a growth spurt or language development spurt I’ve noticed. The doctor agreed, saying he’s trying to integrate new learnings and abilities, but this can cause a lot of frustration and challenges for a child. The conclusion? Lex needs time and intensive therapy, after which the doctor said he’ll probably catch up in 6-12 months. We see him making amazing progress every day, so we know he’s going to be fine – albeit a pain in our arse at times. At the end of the appointment, he said: “your son is obviously intelligent, curious and maybe a little more active than “normal,” but keep doing what you’re doing, because I expect he will be fine.” Thank you doctor. For once I met a really nice guy who didn’t seem to feel the need to put a label on my son, and who actually listened to what I had to say. However I’ve come back feeling annoyed because I knew this all along and my time is precious. But I also feel vindicated because at least a specialist has supported what I’ve always believed to be the case. Finally I feel frustrated, because I know my son – I deeply know and understand him – but schools and other institutions will only take the advice of a specialist, who may spend a total of 30 minutes with them, providing a prognosis that may or may not be correct, and that is more valid than five years of day-to-day exposure to a child? I appreciate that some parents wear rose coloured glasses where their children are concerned. I’m not one of them. I want him to be OK desperately, but I also want to know what is going on so I can help him in the best possible way, so maybe, just maybe, the parents’ point of view is valid in these scenarios too? There’s a crazy thought huh? As I’ve said before, ALL I can do is believe in Lex and do everything it takes to help him catch up and move a little bit closer to “normal” by societies standards, because then I hope his life can be a little bit smoother. However let me be clear – I definitely don’t want Lex to be “normal” because why would I? I want him to be, in fact I encourage him to be, exceptional, in whatever way his heart desires. But fitting in a little bit sure does make life easier. And so what do we do now? We continue loving, supporting and believing in our son, while also feeling grateful that we can actually afford the therapy he needs right now. My heart goes out to parents dealing with a similar situation without the means to support their children’s additional needs financially. That makes me/us some of the lucky ones. Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

The last few weeks have been pretty shabby, for a lot of reasons, so when I’m feeling low I read and there are a couple of authors I like, because they help me to refocus and get back into the optimistic mindset I always prefer to have out of choice. Sometimes it’s not easy to achieve, sometimes it feels impossible, but I’m pretty determined to always try and get there.  I just think it’s a much nicer place to be. Anyways, one of the authors I enjoy reading is Neale Donald Walsch. He’s written a lot of stuff that has turned my thinking upside down, and he’s made me reconsider the God equation – but in a completely different way to what I was raised with. Don’t worry, I’m not getting back into religion – I’m just constantly pondering what the Universe is all about, never expecting to know, but interested to uncover what I can anyway. And Walsch is one of the few authors in this field who challenges my thinking and puts a spin on God I’ve never considered before. Famous for “Conversations with God,” he has also written a lot of other stuff, and to help shift my thinking this last week I read “When God Steps in, Miracles Happen” – a book I enjoyed a couple of months ago – and there was a passage that really caught my attention this time. “Do we really have all the answers about God? Do we really know who God is, and what God wants, and how God wants it? And are we really sure enough about all of this to kill people who do not agree with us? (And then to say that God has condemned them to everlasting damnation?) “Is it possible, just possible, that there is something we don’t know about all this, the knowing of which could change everything?” I just thought this was a really eloquent way of putting this question to all of us, because one thing I absolutely know for sure – and I don’t know much for sure – is that we sure don’t seem to know too much in the big BIG scheme of things. And with that, I am awaiting a miracle – hurry up and happen already! Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

My third lesson of parenthood is DEFINITELY get yourself a great community around you – because I believe children flourish when raised in a community. I have learnt this lesson the hard way, often completely isolating myself from anything even remotely resembling a community. When Lex first came along, I spent the first six months almost totally alone. At that time, I had two groups of friends. Those without kids, not even close to contemplating my new world, and those well into parenthood with teens, happily moving on from what I was going through every day. Most of my friends were also working fulltime and as life has a way of getting very very full, I was left alone for much of the time. On top of that, with Steve off travelling for business a lot, this alone time was sometimes 24 hours a day, seven days a week – not good for my sanity that’s for sure. In many ways it was my choice. I didn’t want to join mother’s groups, because the idea just didn’t jive with me. Almost certainly a mistake, but there you go. I was also in Singapore, which meant no family network to provide support. As well as this, I was putting a lot of pressure on myself to achieve stuff other than motherhood, so running around having coffees was definitely not in the game plan as it took away potential work time, and lack of achievement meant frustration for me – yeah I was doing a lot of resisting. But probably the most significant reason is I just didn’t want to breast feed in public, so it was easier to stay at home. Since then, we’ve built great communities, and then moved countries, and then moved countries or cities again, all the time having to start from scratch on the community building front. Most of the home responsibility remained with me as well, because Steve has to travel with the sort of work he does – although he has been home this last year, which has been lovely. I have definitely found that the 24 hour a day, seven day a week responsibility for children, without any sort of break – even a decent uninterrupted nights’ sleep – is not healthy for me. So that’s why we decided to come back to Singapore. Here we have an extensive community of people now in the same boat with young families, we have really great friends we can rely on, and we have home help, which frees us up to spend time with our lads, each other, but also to work – something I need. I had already learnt this community lesson though – it just didn’t pan out. You see, about 10 years ago, a great friend (Kirsti) found out she was pregnant and going to be a single Mum. At the time she was living in Melbourne and decided to move to Sydney to start her new life. I asked her why she made this decision at this time in her life, and she said the best community to support her was in Sydney. Most women would never make such a huge decision if they found out they were up the duff and doing it alone, but Kirsti was absolutely right. She does have an amazing community around her in Sydney, everyone loves and supports her and Indi, her beautiful daughter. I know that the life they have built, focused on having a great community around them, has made the single parenthood journey that much easier for my dear friend. She’s a brave woman and I admire her tremendously. As I said, I did take this lesson on board when Kirsti told me long before I had kids, but somewhere along the way, life had a way of sorting itself out and moving me/us around so that community was the last thing we could have, but now it’s time to refocus and make sure it’s what we have – because we all need it. Great community is what being human is all about right? Living in Asia, I regularly feel very envious of the family support my friends’ enjoy. I mean Mums and Dads can go on holidays together? Or they can have a night off kids whenever they want – what a dream! Steve and I have had one night off together in the last five+ years, so we are definitely green with envy when friends’ tell us about their freedom in parenthood. Lucky bastards! With that said, I know it comes with obligations and it’s not always easy having the extended family involved in your lives – so a case of grass is always greener right? I’m not feeling sorry for myself here (well maybe a little), but I have learnt this lesson the hard way – for lots and lots of different reasons – but community, if you’re going to be a parent, get yourself some, in whatever form it takes! Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

My little pudding is four today, and apparently this is the age where things start getting easier? I must admit that I have seen absolutely no evidence of this supposed transition to date, as he is a rambunctious, argumentative know-it-all, but my, oh my, how I LOVE my little man. If I was asked for one word to describe Jax, it would be charming. Jax can charm the socks off the most hardened sceptic, because he has this incredible talent for reaching people and melting their hearts. One of the things I love about him is his ability to relate to men or women. He can hold his own at a ladies tea party, not taking any crap from the bossy girls, or h can be the center of the action in a boy’s wrestling match – usually coming out on top… except with Lex, but that will change. Jax is already a beef cake, and with his mega-rugby thighs in place since birth, he is bound to be one hell of a hunky man, currently estimated to reach about six foot three-four – you know, based on that measurement you do at two and a half? He came in at 93cm. When the lads were little, they got a t-shirt saying “Lock up Your Daughters” and I can say without doubt that when Jax reaches his sexual prime, this might be sage advice for our friends’ with daughters to follow, because he is also incredibly sultry. I mean, how does a little lad already have the “look?” Seriously, he can pulse his eye-balls? I know he’s going to get laid A LOT. Jax has a terrific sense of humour, and has spent hours mastering his funny faces and practising his pick-up lines – all encouraged by his Dad. He is eloquent and determined, yet sensitive. He is Mr. Popular, but takes care of those in need. He is fiercely loyal and you better watch out if you have a go at anyone he’s thrown his towel in with, especially his brother. Jax is quick to learn and doesn’t miss a trick – especially Mummy and Daddy’s swear words… (Hey you try driving in Singapore without swearing!) I can definitely say that Jax is his own man, and that is a great thing to be when you are the second child. He never backs down in a fight, always stands his ground, and while that doesn’t make home life easy when DVD decisions are being made, it is definitely a quality I admire.  Yeah, I definitely admire Jax, I admire both of my little boys. I think they’ve both got amazing qualities that are going to help them succeed in whatever it is they want to do in life, and that’s a wonderful thing to see in your sons. While Lex is a mini-me, Jax is a mini-Steve and I just want to say Happy Happy Birthday to an amazing son. I hope I do great by you as a Mum, providing the right guidance to help you become the magnificent man I know you are destined to be. I think you’re wonderful and I enjoy sharing this life journey with you immensely. You deserve the world my love.   Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

Maybe I’m late to the party on this one, because I’ve just finished “The Slap” by Christos Tsiolkas and it definitely deserves it’s long-listing for the Man Booker Prize and for winning the Commonwealth Writers Prize 2009 for best novel in South-East Asia and South Pacific. A sometimes brutal book, it tells the story of a group of people in Melbourne, through the eyes of eight characters, and the central theme is around a man who slaps a child at a suburban BBQ – except the child isn’t his. In our very-PC world, it was an interesting topic to explore, but there’s so much more to it than that. Apparently the book has created a bit of a stir – but my take-away is it’s a really brave perspective on multi-cultural life in Australia. I lived in Melbourne from 1988-95 and before this I wasn’t “exposed” to that strong “wog” (the now-affectionate Aussie colloquial term for immigrants from the Mediterranean region – think Greeks, Italians, etc..) culture you get in Melbourne. Sure we had some “wog” families around, but they weren’t so dominant or separate when I grew up in Albury Wodonga – maybe it’s changed now? But Christos didn’t just capture the “wog” part of the story beautifully, he also captures being a “foreigner” within Australian culture, the confusion of inherited cultural values within the mix of modern Australian life, the diversity and ignorance around faith, people’s views on atheism, the aboriginal perspective, teenage angst, misogyny, confusion, family loyalty – the good and the bad, being a young gay teenager, getting old, marriage and infidelity, and so much more. It’s mind blowing how broad this book is, but that’s life right? The best thing about the book is he does it through eight central characters – from a teenage boy trying to come to terms with his sexuality, a teenage girl who has had a rather interesting life already, all the way through to Manolis – a 70+ year old Greek grandfather who has seen quite a lot in his time, and is constantly challenged by how values and respect have changed, but who is also pretty pissed off with the way life has played out – in particular the miserable woman he’s married too who holds onto old Greek values which he thinks are bullshit. I was mesmerized by the Authors’ ability to get into each of the characters heads and tell their story from their perspective. I think one of my favorite bits was Richie’s “Big Day Out” on an E (and some) – told as a 1,000+ word review of his total experience, feelings and bliss, all without a full stop in sight. Not bad and as a former “Big Day Outer,” I can say I never had that much fun.    This book is crude, brutal, challenging and honest. It’s funny, mesmerizing, confusing and educational. It’s about life. It’s about people. It’s about everyone’s perspective on stuff and how different we all are, because we all come from backgrounds that no one else understands.  And for all those reasons, I think it’s a very cool book. Australian or not, I can definitely recommend this – especially for those who have, or currently are, living as an ethnic minority, anywhere. Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

If you’ve been reading my blog, you’ll know that my five year old son, Lex, is speech delayed. He is not autistic, he does not have aspergers and he is not ADHD – he is speech delayed. His speech is delayed because when he was born, his tonsils and adenoids grew so quickly, they compressed his ear canals, and his ability to hear was reduced – which means if you cup your hands together and speak into your hands, you’ll have an idea how Lex heard the world. Unfortunately we don’t know how long this went on for or what he missed developmentally, because a speech delayed child isn’t deaf, so when it was finally diagnosed, we rushed him to hospital to have his tonsils and adenoids removed, plus grommets inserted in his ears. That was September 2009. The reason I took him to an ear, nose and throat (ENT) specialist in the first place is because when he really started trying to speak – at around three years, nine months – his tongue was coming out of his mouth, not dissimilar to how I have seen hearing impaired people speak. Until this point, I wasn’t worried about Lex’s speech delay because I knew he was exceptionally intelligent and he was communicating with me all the time – just not with words. The ENT took one look in his ears and said he has compressed ear canals. He also asked about his behaviour – which was quite wild – and said this is typical of a child with these symptoms. He then asked if Lex snored. Yes he has snored since he was born, to which the doctor replied – no child should snore. Since the operation, we’ve moved back to Singapore and Lex has been in speech therapy. His progress is astounding. But he’s not there yet and Lex is extremely frustrated with his inability to communicate and the fact people don’t understand him, which often results in bad behaviour – especially at school. But that is another story. Lex will catch up. We are determined to do everything we can to help him do that, but right now he needs time, patience and love, but he also needs the people in his life to work just that little bit harder to understand what he is saying in whichever way he chooses to communicate. It’s not easy – in fact, it’s downright frustrating – but we know, without question, what we do now will set him up for life. The problem is TOO many people around us are constantly pushing us to have him diagnosed with something else. These people are not specialists – in fact they are often people who have absolutely no idea what they’re talking about. Some people make observations gently, and are not offending us in anyway, but many people are downright rude in their assumptions. Yes, some of Lex’s behaviour is not dissimilar to an autistic child, BUT he is not autistic. He is speech delayed. The problem is, while a LOT of information is circulating around autism, aspergers and ADHD, speech delay and associated behaviour information seems to be lacking. Do a search and let me know if you find anything of value? I didn’t. Based on my understanding (as a mother, not a specialist) a speech delayed child goes two ways – quiet or loud. Lex has gone loud and his behaviour is reflective of that. The good thing about him being loud is everyone knows there is an issue that needs to be fixed, whereas the quiet kids can get lost in the system. So that’s a bonus – we absolutely know to act. When a child is speech delayed they often react with “difficult behaviours” to a situation, and if you’re not paying attention, oftentimes the behaviour is seen as bad or attention seeking. We work very hard to identify what happened before Lex “changes.” It can be a change of circumstances he’s not happy with; being with an adult he isn’t comfortable with; too much noise and chaos; people interfering with him – such as physically guiding him in a direction he doesn’t want to go and having his protests ignored, and so on. We don’t always know, but we do know that certain changes in Lex indicate that something happened and he is not happy about it. Slowly he is telling us what these things are, but we’re not there yet and he’s still at a stage of slipping back into physical, rather than verbal communication more often than not. So a speech delayed child typically acts up because something happened before the “naughty” behaviour and the important thing is identifying what happened. Liz Elks and Henrietta McLachlan published some information somewhere (I was only given a copy of a couple of pages) and they listed out some advice. What is the child communicating? Be aware that the child is probably trying to communicate through his behaviour and look for what he is ‘saying.’ Use positive statements e.g. “Walk in the corridor’ is preferable to “don’t run.” Be aware of your own behaviour How you respond to the child’s behaviour may be aggravating the situation, are you reinforcing the behaviour? Are you part of the problem and so part of the solution? Consider the antecedents (causes) of the behaviour. Does he understand the task? Always check the child has understood what he has been asked to do and ensure that your language is appropriate to the child’s level of understanding. Use structure Reassess the structure being used. Does the child understand it? Is it being used? Stress aggravates! Remember that for most verbal people, communication is harder when they are emotional. This is also true of children with speech delay. The more upset they are, the harder they will find it to use appropriate language and communication, and so the more likely they are to resort to communicating through their behaviour. Strategies based on pleasing others may

The bookshops are closing down, the Mom & Pop bookshops can’t compete with the online retailers, Borders closed in Singapore and elsewhere, and everyone is talking eBooks – Kindle, Nook, iPad…. Things are changing slowly, quickly, imperceptibly and my panic is starting to rise. Please don’t take our bookshops away from us? I love technology. I’ve been involved in the industry since the mid-90s. It’s exciting. We can do things we never dreamed of five years ago, let alone 20 years ago. I’ve rarely resisted technological advancements, with only one exception – I took ages to switch to a digital camera. That was a change I just couldn’t come to terms with, but I got there in the end and I’m glad I did – although digital cameras do not last as long as the old cameras. But changing to ebooks? That is something I really don’t want to do, although if things keep going the way they are, I may have no choice. I love books. I love the way they feel. I love the way they smell. I love mashing them up, folding the pages and sharing a great read with someone else who loves reading the same stuff. I love writing on the pages, circling the great stuff that touches me deeply so I can remember and savour it. I love reading and I want my boys to love it too. While many women enjoy a massage or a facial for relaxation, true bliss for me is spending a few uninterrupted hours in a bookshop – going through all of the sections, reading the back covers, and usually walking out with five books to devour. I don’t want to read a book review online. I don’t want to read a book synopsis online. I want to pick up the book, turn it over, read the back cover, read about the author inside the front cover, read the comments of the critics and then decide if this is one for me. Choosing my books is random. A front cover may grab my attention, the title, or the picture. It may be in the Best Reads section, or a book might fall off the shelf as I walk past. How I choose books is part of the experience of being in a book shop. I also love the people in bookshops. There is every demographic – young, old, male, female, black, white, yellow, red or brown – we’re all there. Some elegant, some shabby, some stressed and some calm. We don’t talk to each other, but our combined love of books is communication enough – it is part of the experience. I am also intrigued by the sorts of people – especially in the Fantasy section. I’ve loved Fantasy for more than 30 years, and I’m always curious about who shares this passion as I watch them peripherally. Sometimes we actually even speak. I can’t do this online. I can’t find random books to pick up. Sure the technology can recommend things to me based on what I’ve read, but I don’t want to read the same types of books – I want to read every type of book, across every genre and I can’t do this in a virtual world. It also hurts my eyes looking at a computer screen all day – I don’t want to have to do it at night as well, or whenever I get enough “downtime” to read. If you’re with me, head down to your local bookshop and spend money. Don’t do it online unless you have to. We need to help keep these businesses alive. I’m worried, I really am. Please don’t take our books away? Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

I just thought he was hot! In December I shared my first lesson of parenting – and there are many many lessons to share – but one I’ve dealt with quite extensively in recent years is “Don’t Fight the Fashion Wars.” This lesson came to light recently when a Dad I know and love was dealing with his little lady insisting on wearing her plastic Disney heels everywhere. He wasn’t happy. My journey down this path started when Lex was three. One day, he decided he wanted to wear his pyjamas ALL the time. To start with I said no mate, time to get dressed. But that determined look I know was all over his little face and so I said, sure, you’re not hurting anyone, why not. His Dad wasn’t as understanding as me initially. The reality is I saw it as Lex expressing his individuality and trying to take control over an aspect of his life – a first conscious step towards independence I’d say. I wasn’t happy about him traipsing around town in his PJs but I decided to respect his decision. Yeah I know, one of those new-age Mums, maybe? Within a week, Lex no longer wanted to wear his PJs and that particular battle was over. Since then, there are certainly occasions when Lex insists on selecting his outfits, but in the majority of cases he’s happy for me to choose as well – as long as some red is in the mix. He knows his mind and is very conscious of how he looks – a quality I love in both of my boys – but by not reacting too strongly and trying to force our ideas on him, we seemed to have ridden that storm successfully.   Jax is almost four and he too is a fashion conscious little man. The challenge with Jax is he’s not consistent. Lex loves red, Jax likes green and blue and orange and red and pink and well, you name it. As such I have not been able to successfully offer him clothing options he is happy with. This can be extremely frustrating because it adds a lot of time to the getting-out-the-bloody-door process – a process I do not enjoy. The additional challenge with the Jaxmeister is he isn’t just fussy about clothes, he’s also fussy about his underwear and shoes, and if we’re swimming, he’s fussy about what bathing suit to wear. When we’re in a rush, it can be tedious, but again, by not fighting the war and taking the time to make sure he’s happy, it is much more peaceful in the house. Like I said, I really do like the fact that my boys care about how they look – it’s something I want them to take into adulthood, and the best way to encourage this is to give them the time and patience to choose whatever they want to wear – even if sometimes it looks bloody horrible. But that’s rare. The best bit – by giving into their need for a little piece of independence, I believe we’re helping them to grow and create some identity at the same time. However, we’re also saving our energy for the times when things really do matter. How they dress is not important and it gives them a victory in their primary growing years. The best bit about the victory? Once they’ve won, they don’t care anymore, so we all win. It’s worked for me. With that I ask – what fight have you decided to give up on? Yours, without the bollocks Andrea PS: I ain’t a rabid Twitter user yet, but if you’re interested, you can follow me on Twitter @withoutbollocks

I’ve enjoyed eight wonderful Chinese New Year celebrations in Singapore – a country where approximately 74 per cent of thepopulation is Chinese. It’s the only time in Singapore when everything goes quiet – I mean the shops actually close for a few days, and that is a big deal in a The Lion City where one of the favourite pastimes (and sports) is shopping. Singaporeans love CNY because it’s a wonderful family tradition, and they get four and a half days off, which everyone takes advantage of – I suggest avoiding Changi Airport and the border crossings into Malaysia during this time – its chaos… Right now, Singapore is decorated red, it’s been dragon-ified, the painful Chinese music is blaring in the supermarkets (sorry it just hurts my ears but so does Christmas music!) and everywhere you go, behold the feast of orange trees and other colourful plants. CNY is a very family oriented time, so we’ve never been invited to celebrate, which has meant it’s really hard to grasp what it’s all about and what it means to the Chinese. Until I moved to Singapore, my main awareness of CNY was my animal sign. I’d spent my life thinking I was a Dog, only later realising that as I was born on the first of January I was, in fact, a Cock – so this dog became a cock later in life. This year I thought I’d ask my Chinese pals, some of whom are married to Ang Mo’s, which literally means red hair according to Wikipedia (welcome back, I missed you), and Ang Mo is a term for Caucasians (aka us white folk) in Singapore. I thought it might be nice to get a perspective of CNY from those in the thick of things. My great friend’s Davina (Singapore) and Jamey (US) have been married about as long as we have. A great couple, when I asked them, Davina said “I think Jamey called it a time for family flagellation. Ouch.” To which Jamey replied “Chinese New Year is a ritual where the older generation pick on the younger generation. For example, why don’t you have a boyfriend/girlfriend, husband/wife, better job, baby, etc…” He suggested I add the wahs and lehs (aka Singlish) in where I see fit, but I’ve never been able to get to grips with the local language, so feel free to add it if you know how… Jamey sent in the gambling picture: “This picture is my favourite from CNY!  Close knit family all around a table – GAMBLING 🙂  This, of course, happens after lots of good food.” A more considered response from Davina: “CNY has changed so much. In our parents time it was really special – the only time in the year they got new clothes and not hand-me-downs. Now for the kids, I don’t think it makes a difference. Sure the money is nice (we’ll get to that – Andrea) but the traditions are gone and another dress doesn’t mean much these days. I miss the tradition of cooking together with Grandma, as well as the stories she used to tell when cooking. We weren’t very big on other traditions like massive spring-cleaning. However, even though my Mum was a committed Christian, we could never sweep the house on day one – even if you broke a glass. You could only pick up the pieces. That was by far the biggest taboo. I love the concept of the Reunion Dinner, which is held on Chinese New Year Eve, but they can be painful…really painful if you don’t get along with the extended family.” So far we have gambling, eating, new clothes, and no sweeping… I will elaborate on the traditions shortly.Eugene (Singapore), is one of the most creative people I’ve ever met and a very dear friend. He told me: “In what is typically a very reserved, conservative and insular society, the Chinese New Year festivities sees us toss it all out the window. It’s our annual ‘coming out’ celebration and we like it big. Twelve days of Christmas? Bah humbug. We have 15 days of over indulgence, loud (literally with fireworks) parties and the occasional family get together. Oh did I mention over-indulgence? I you are visiting people during this time, I suggest bringing a couple of oranges, and a hearty appetite.” He’s right, the Chinese do like to feed you. My experience on that so far – even if you’re not planning on eating, have a plate of food in front of you at all times. The Aunties will not leave you alone. It’s even worse if you’re pregnant. Moving on to my great friends Keith (English/Iraqi) and Cara (Singapore). From Keith: “My parents love Chinese New Year – in fact, this is the third time they will come for it. It’s about making a fresh start, so the idea of buying new clothes is a great way to cement that. Getting together with relatives and friends is always welcome – and more importantly, so is gambling :-)” I am noticing a trend here. “I do like Chinese New Year and appreciate the traditions,” said Cara. “I don’t like them all but some make sense, especially now that we have children. I want my children to know that Chinese New Year is just as important as Christmas. In fact, they should think they are very lucky, as they have so many special occasions to celebrate throughout the year. For CNY, I like the idea of getting everything new, clothes (including underwear!), shoes and bags. We also shop to make sure we have plenty of supplies and food for the 15 days of CNY, and we steer away from dull colours, opting more for red, yellow, orange, and green.”I can guarantee that if Cara is buying new underwear for CNY, it’s going to be gorgeous. Cara used to import French Lingerie into Singapore, and even though she’d look amazing in a pair of big beige panties up to her

Friday night I finally saw “Wicked the Musical” – it’s the first time it’s been on where I’ve lived – yip yah!! What can I say? It was brilliant! All except for the fact we were 45 minutes late due to horrendous Friday night traffic – ahhhhhh. Next time we’ll definitely order a cab, although the long taxi line at the end of the night when one’s feet hurt the most is equally unappealing. Essentially Not too many win-wins with either transport option. The reason I wanted to see Wicked is because when I read the book many years ago, it touched me very deeply. In fact, I’d have to say I found it one of the most profound books I’ve ever read. Some may think that’s a bit weird, because it’s just a fairy tale after all, but let me explain. “The Wizard of Oz” is one of the most enduring stories of our time. Most people know it, love it and happily kick their heels up to its famous tunes. Dorothy is beloved by us all, as is Judy Garland for taking on the role, and the essence of every character is firmly set in our hearts. Would you agree? Bring in Wicked, the story of the Wicked Witch of the West, and now there’s a lot more to the story. Elphalba was a confused young girl, coping with being extremely different in her green-ness or “ugly,” smart and powerful, deeply unfashionable, and she had a very strong sense of justice. As it does, life played its hand, she got pissed off about a lot of injustice in her world, and thus a young girl evolves into a young woman that many people do not understand, and she is judged harshly and victimized. The “Powers” in the World of Oz declare her an outcast when she won’t join their crew, and the public blindly follow and accept her as evil. Ring any bells? When I read the book I couldn’t believe it. I was mesmerized by the possibility of a very different Wicked Witch to the one I thought I always knew. It completely turned everything on its head for me, but it was more than that. For many years before, I was already trying to look at any situation, person or news from different angles. I never wanted to accept one truth on anything, without trying to see if there was another way (or multiple ways) of seeing a situation. I don’t know why I did this, although I think it started when I read an article on the Davidian Cult from Waco, Texas (remember that?) in a natural therapy magazine 10 years before then. This article told that story in a very different way to any I had heard before. It shook me then, as Wicked shook me over a decade later. While it is exhausting to look at the world this way, I have continued to always try and look at everything from alternative viewpoints. I need to do it. I can’t accept anything from a single perspective, because there are always more perspectives, but like I said, it does get exhausting. However, it’s also why I believe no one has the right to judge anyone – EVER. No one has every angle of a person’s story. No one knows why someone behaves as they do in a situation they are in. Heck no one knows why people put themselves into some situations! We think we know, but we never do, and for me, when Gregory McGuire wrote Wicked, he was making a very powerful (yet subtle) statement challenging us to look at the world in a different way. It’s a very political book, but for me it’s about how individuals grow based on the experiences life throws at them. I can also recommend his other books – I think I’ve read most of them. But Wicked remains my favourite. I’m bummed I missed the start of the show, but I was more bummed for Steve, because he missed a lot of the context around her earlier life. I know we’ll go again (I’m thinking of taking Lex next time), but before I do, I have to dust off Wicked and read it again. I loved that book. It changed my life, and it remains a reason I buy it as a gift for so many people – I really do think it’s that powerful. Yours, Without the Bollocks Andrea PS: if you’re holding back on going because you think it’s too expensive, please try and think of it in another way. Live musical theatre provides jobs for tremendously talented people – singers, dancers, musicians, stage designers, costume designers, make-up artists, and more. I love the fact we live in a world where people with these remarkable gifts can be the best they can be while earning a living from it. Please support the arts so amazing people can continue to pursue their passions and give us the gift of their talent. It would be a sad world if these types of experiences disappeared because we no longer made supporting it a priority. It’s not a cheap night out, but it’s always a worthwhile experience – I promise xxxx PPS: If you’re interested, you can follow me on Twitter @withoutbollocks