Wednesday, October 03, 2007
I guess I haven't really talked about my Sunday School kids yet have I?
Haven't really been helping out since the start of the post-common test2 fiasco, but essentially, since last year, I've been helping out at Sunday school. And as with any situation which is equable to managing a stampeding herd of bicorns, there are funny times, hair-pulling times, and times where bith descriptions fit the bill. In the marginal possibility that this blog is still around by the time the persons named in this entry are old enough to stumble across it while surfing the Internet, only initials and numbers will be used to identify them. Let's start off with a short intro. I help out with a class of 20-30 3 year olds who are going on 4. As individual persons, they are bright, funny, sweet, mischievious, lovable and really, really cute. As a group... well, you get the aforementioned stampeding bicorns. Here are some scenarios that I face during the sessions I've had with the class:
On the 20th time I've had to push little inquisitive hands away from a kind of hanging nailed to a side of a cupboard where I sit during sunday school class
Me : What did Aunty Irene say? Don't touch!
Hands are withdrawn. 5 minutes (or maybe seconds) later, the same (or a possibly a different) pair of hands inch towards said cloth.
Me: I. (or C1 or C2 or F), remember what Aunty Irene said? Don't touch!
Once again hands shrink back, possibly due to a slightly 'angrier' tone. Then they inch slowly back again.
Me: No more sweets for you!
Hands are snatched back, and are never seen disturbing wall hanging for the rest of lesson
Scene: Arts and Crafts session. We are making barbells, an activity distantly related to the story of Samson and Delilah. My task: to hand out cardboard tubes that once held either kitchen towels, aluminium foil or toilet paper. Due to a shortage in the longer cardbaord tubes, I've started handing out toilet paper tubes (which are naturally shorter)
W: can I have the long cardboard?
Me: You can't. I don't have anymore. Sorry. See, this one's just as nice
W: But I want the long one! (begins to pout)
Me: But there isn't any more! Never mind. See, you can still make a barbell with the short one
W: But I want the long one! (lips quivering, voice getting whiny)
Me: I'm really sorry, but don't worry. Let me help you wrap your tube. See? It looks so pretty!
W: I WANT THE LONG ONE! (naturally, he starts crying)
Me (to my consience): I want to shake him!
My Consience: You can't!!!
Me: Can I just slap him?
My Consience: He's just a kid!!!
Me: But he's driving me nuts!!!
My consience: But he's just a Kid!!!
Am finally saved by another helper carrying him off to a corner where he is finally consoled and given a long toilet roll tube magicked out of somewhere.
Sunday School is often tiring. In fact, i've been rather amazed at myself and my ability of maitaining a happy, cheery disposition both during and after class. But somehow, I manage to do it. Between crying kids and kids wanting to go to the bathrooms and kids wanting their mums and dads (who are probably relishing that 1.5 kid-free hours) everty Sunday, I still love them all. Maybe it's because they're little people who just need to be hugged and cuddled and shown the ways of the world, and I know they don't know any better. More than that, I've learnt to see their point of view (which, I admit is extremely self-centric and naive). It's made me sorry that a) I've lost their naivete and faith that everything will be taken care of, and b) They'll one daybe like me. It also fills me with a sense of wonder too, that I'm helping to raise these children as members of God's kingdom, and I've realised how huge a resposibility that is. More than that, I've come to love these children, and what they do sometimes just makes the frustration all so worthwhile. When J. comes to sunday school for the first time in his life without having to cry because his mother is abandoning him for the sanctuary, or when F. just suddenly hugs me without any reason, it justmakes me feel glad and happy and touched. I think that's why some teachers just teach for years and years, because they've felt this same way all the time when they see these children grow and blossom.
Nonetheless, never ask me to babysit kids. I will NEVER be available :P
Haven't really been helping out since the start of the post-common test2 fiasco, but essentially, since last year, I've been helping out at Sunday school. And as with any situation which is equable to managing a stampeding herd of bicorns, there are funny times, hair-pulling times, and times where bith descriptions fit the bill. In the marginal possibility that this blog is still around by the time the persons named in this entry are old enough to stumble across it while surfing the Internet, only initials and numbers will be used to identify them. Let's start off with a short intro. I help out with a class of 20-30 3 year olds who are going on 4. As individual persons, they are bright, funny, sweet, mischievious, lovable and really, really cute. As a group... well, you get the aforementioned stampeding bicorns. Here are some scenarios that I face during the sessions I've had with the class:
On the 20th time I've had to push little inquisitive hands away from a kind of hanging nailed to a side of a cupboard where I sit during sunday school class
Me : What did Aunty Irene say? Don't touch!
Hands are withdrawn. 5 minutes (or maybe seconds) later, the same (or a possibly a different) pair of hands inch towards said cloth.
Me: I. (or C1 or C2 or F), remember what Aunty Irene said? Don't touch!
Once again hands shrink back, possibly due to a slightly 'angrier' tone. Then they inch slowly back again.
Me: No more sweets for you!
Hands are snatched back, and are never seen disturbing wall hanging for the rest of lesson
Scene: Arts and Crafts session. We are making barbells, an activity distantly related to the story of Samson and Delilah. My task: to hand out cardboard tubes that once held either kitchen towels, aluminium foil or toilet paper. Due to a shortage in the longer cardbaord tubes, I've started handing out toilet paper tubes (which are naturally shorter)
W: can I have the long cardboard?
Me: You can't. I don't have anymore. Sorry. See, this one's just as nice
W: But I want the long one! (begins to pout)
Me: But there isn't any more! Never mind. See, you can still make a barbell with the short one
W: But I want the long one! (lips quivering, voice getting whiny)
Me: I'm really sorry, but don't worry. Let me help you wrap your tube. See? It looks so pretty!
W: I WANT THE LONG ONE! (naturally, he starts crying)
Me (to my consience): I want to shake him!
My Consience: You can't!!!
Me: Can I just slap him?
My Consience: He's just a kid!!!
Me: But he's driving me nuts!!!
My consience: But he's just a Kid!!!
Am finally saved by another helper carrying him off to a corner where he is finally consoled and given a long toilet roll tube magicked out of somewhere.
Sunday School is often tiring. In fact, i've been rather amazed at myself and my ability of maitaining a happy, cheery disposition both during and after class. But somehow, I manage to do it. Between crying kids and kids wanting to go to the bathrooms and kids wanting their mums and dads (who are probably relishing that 1.5 kid-free hours) everty Sunday, I still love them all. Maybe it's because they're little people who just need to be hugged and cuddled and shown the ways of the world, and I know they don't know any better. More than that, I've learnt to see their point of view (which, I admit is extremely self-centric and naive). It's made me sorry that a) I've lost their naivete and faith that everything will be taken care of, and b) They'll one daybe like me. It also fills me with a sense of wonder too, that I'm helping to raise these children as members of God's kingdom, and I've realised how huge a resposibility that is. More than that, I've come to love these children, and what they do sometimes just makes the frustration all so worthwhile. When J. comes to sunday school for the first time in his life without having to cry because his mother is abandoning him for the sanctuary, or when F. just suddenly hugs me without any reason, it justmakes me feel glad and happy and touched. I think that's why some teachers just teach for years and years, because they've felt this same way all the time when they see these children grow and blossom.
Nonetheless, never ask me to babysit kids. I will NEVER be available :P
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
After much rumination, I have come to the following 2 conclusions:
1. If I am bored this holiday, I am intrinsically screwed
Why: I have to STUDY for common tests!!!!!!!!! After turning down a nice holiday with my parents due to the aforementioned reasons, I can hardly do less than that.
2. Wen Si is narcissistic and missing SG9 too much for her own good
Why: Wen Si a)misses playing bridge in a super stinky and messy room, b) would rather eat pre u sem food with SG9 than have meals(even at the regent) with her parents and c)wants to go back to playing umpteen rounds of T or D with Amanda, Chuan and company.
Why, oh why can't I reverse time???
Life as so much easier last time, in the distant pages of yesteryear....
1. If I am bored this holiday, I am intrinsically screwed
Why: I have to STUDY for common tests!!!!!!!!! After turning down a nice holiday with my parents due to the aforementioned reasons, I can hardly do less than that.
2. Wen Si is narcissistic and missing SG9 too much for her own good
Why: Wen Si a)misses playing bridge in a super stinky and messy room, b) would rather eat pre u sem food with SG9 than have meals(even at the regent) with her parents and c)wants to go back to playing umpteen rounds of T or D with Amanda, Chuan and company.
Why, oh why can't I reverse time???
Life as so much easier last time, in the distant pages of yesteryear....
Saturday, January 13, 2007
IP4 (finally)
It feels good to have juniors who are all younger than I am....
apart from that, I'm just sad that this is our last year of IP. The year of reckoning (A-levels) and the last year we're all going to spend together as a whole cohort. But, as Dot says, it's probably also going to be exciting, cos anything that can happen will happen this year. I'm also sick of school food and have thus lost weight. I haven't really bought any food from the school canteen yet... I'm just so sick of NJ food that I'd rather starve than eat it. I guess JC food is only good for the 2 years that everyone normally spends there. The 'good' part may become merely 'ok' when stretched to 3 years, but at the start of the 4th it's just... bleaaggghhh... School itself is ok, I guess... the looming threat of the A levels being enough of an impetus for me to motivate myself to complete as much of my work on time.
I think this is going to be an interesting year... I have no idea what's going to happen, or what my grades will be like, but I'm going to take stuff as it comes...
apart from that, I'm just sad that this is our last year of IP. The year of reckoning (A-levels) and the last year we're all going to spend together as a whole cohort. But, as Dot says, it's probably also going to be exciting, cos anything that can happen will happen this year. I'm also sick of school food and have thus lost weight. I haven't really bought any food from the school canteen yet... I'm just so sick of NJ food that I'd rather starve than eat it. I guess JC food is only good for the 2 years that everyone normally spends there. The 'good' part may become merely 'ok' when stretched to 3 years, but at the start of the 4th it's just... bleaaggghhh... School itself is ok, I guess... the looming threat of the A levels being enough of an impetus for me to motivate myself to complete as much of my work on time.
I think this is going to be an interesting year... I have no idea what's going to happen, or what my grades will be like, but I'm going to take stuff as it comes...
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
ok.. I'll admit I thought this out more than 3 weeks ago, but never bothered to update anyone about my enlightened state of mind until now. The realisation is this:
Dating, in general, for me, is like warm chocolate cake.
Here's my reasoning:
You know the kind of cake I'm talking about? The ones with the warm gooey, chocolatey, oh-so-sinful centres. Those kind. Since they've entered the menus of countless retaurants in Singapore, it's become one of the in things to eat; everyone wants to eat it, not because of the cake itself, but because it's the warm chocolate cake. So everyone wants to eat it, most want to anyway; those who don't can't be bothered with fads. So you want to try it, just once, even if it's a tiny bit of the cake; you want to try it becaue its just the cake that everyone's been raving about. Those who've tried either fall in love with it, or there are some who swear off it afterwards. But anyway, I digress. The kind of people who I think are like me (in the dating context) are the ones who are so desperate for a taste of cake they don't really care if its good or bad. So the minute the oppourtunity for cake arises, they jump at it. But unfortunately, in my case, the cake wasn't really all that good. So I kind of got played out on that one. But what I've realised is that it's actually ok. Because I've already tried the warm chocolate cake, I already know what it tastes like. The desperate want for cake has been quenched. As such, I no longer have a burning desire for cake (I hope you're getting this allusion, or you'll be lost for now). A vague curiosity, yes, about what good cake tastes like, but I don't have to try it again until I'm sure. Until I find a cake that looks good and has potential. So, for now, no cake for me. (I mean figuratively. Much as I value my diet, I love [real-life] cake.)
Dating, in general, for me, is like warm chocolate cake.
Here's my reasoning:
You know the kind of cake I'm talking about? The ones with the warm gooey, chocolatey, oh-so-sinful centres. Those kind. Since they've entered the menus of countless retaurants in Singapore, it's become one of the in things to eat; everyone wants to eat it, not because of the cake itself, but because it's the warm chocolate cake. So everyone wants to eat it, most want to anyway; those who don't can't be bothered with fads. So you want to try it, just once, even if it's a tiny bit of the cake; you want to try it becaue its just the cake that everyone's been raving about. Those who've tried either fall in love with it, or there are some who swear off it afterwards. But anyway, I digress. The kind of people who I think are like me (in the dating context) are the ones who are so desperate for a taste of cake they don't really care if its good or bad. So the minute the oppourtunity for cake arises, they jump at it. But unfortunately, in my case, the cake wasn't really all that good. So I kind of got played out on that one. But what I've realised is that it's actually ok. Because I've already tried the warm chocolate cake, I already know what it tastes like. The desperate want for cake has been quenched. As such, I no longer have a burning desire for cake (I hope you're getting this allusion, or you'll be lost for now). A vague curiosity, yes, about what good cake tastes like, but I don't have to try it again until I'm sure. Until I find a cake that looks good and has potential. So, for now, no cake for me. (I mean figuratively. Much as I value my diet, I love [real-life] cake.)
Monday, December 11, 2006
ok... this goes out to all CP members, J1 and J2 alike:
I was so touched by your display of unitarism on Sunday, during the seniors' farewell. It showed a great sense of unity among you guys as you all decided not to go for it altogether. It was one of the most united fronts I have ever seen.
Enough said. I shall commence kicking people out when school reopens. No more ghost writers, no more excuses. If anyone doesn't come for meetings, they're out. If you have no time for College Pub., then I don't see the point in giving you credit for the odd article you may or may not have done for the CCA.
I was so touched by your display of unitarism on Sunday, during the seniors' farewell. It showed a great sense of unity among you guys as you all decided not to go for it altogether. It was one of the most united fronts I have ever seen.
Enough said. I shall commence kicking people out when school reopens. No more ghost writers, no more excuses. If anyone doesn't come for meetings, they're out. If you have no time for College Pub., then I don't see the point in giving you credit for the odd article you may or may not have done for the CCA.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Class chalet was fun!!!
Somehow or the other, we hadn't bonded like that in AGES. It was really great seeing the whole class together, having loads of fun. I don't know how to say it, but for those 2 nights, we just seemed really together and united. The guys were really great too... As Vicky was saying, even though the're outnumbered, they still manage to make up half the class itself.
Loads of thanks go out o everyone on the second night. You guys rock man! And I guess those 2 hours in pasir ris park weren't in vain :D I actually learnt how to ride... sort of, anyway. It should count as being able to ride a bike, albeit amateurishly, if you're pedals can make it past the 1st 30, shouldn't it? Going to practice more during the rest of the hols. Thanks a lot, guys. I really mean it. It meant a lot to me that everyone was there, helping in one way or another, especially Ferleen and Pok :P. Maybe that's why I was able to kind of muddle along at the end.
Anyways, this whole chalet was a huge success. We should do this every year, even after we leave NJ, and see how we are as a bunch.
Somehow or the other, we hadn't bonded like that in AGES. It was really great seeing the whole class together, having loads of fun. I don't know how to say it, but for those 2 nights, we just seemed really together and united. The guys were really great too... As Vicky was saying, even though the're outnumbered, they still manage to make up half the class itself.
Loads of thanks go out o everyone on the second night. You guys rock man! And I guess those 2 hours in pasir ris park weren't in vain :D I actually learnt how to ride... sort of, anyway. It should count as being able to ride a bike, albeit amateurishly, if you're pedals can make it past the 1st 30, shouldn't it? Going to practice more during the rest of the hols. Thanks a lot, guys. I really mean it. It meant a lot to me that everyone was there, helping in one way or another, especially Ferleen and Pok :P. Maybe that's why I was able to kind of muddle along at the end.
Anyways, this whole chalet was a huge success. We should do this every year, even after we leave NJ, and see how we are as a bunch.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Joketime
This was so funny I felt I had to share this ith everyone. Relax and enjoy, everyone :P
Bush is my shepherd I shall not lie
He leadeth me beside the still farms and small towns.
He restoreth my doubt in the Repulican party
He guideth me down the path of untold debt for the party's sake.
Bush is my shepherd I shall not lie
He leadeth me beside the still farms and small towns.
He restoreth my doubt in the Repulican party
He guideth me down the path of untold debt for the party's sake.
My wages he will freeze but my expenses runneth over my income.
He cuteth taxes for the wealthiest surely.
Poverty and hard living shall follow the Republican party
and I shall live in a rented house forever.
5,000 years ago, Moses said:
"Park your camel, pick up your shovel, mount your ass,
and I will lead you to the promised land."
5,000 years later, Franklin D. Roosevelt said:
"Lay down your shovel, sit on your ass, light up a camel
this is the promised land."
Today, Bush will steal your shovel, sell your camel, kick your ass,
and tell you know there is no promised land.
I am glad I am an American and I am glad that I am free
but I wish I were a little dog and bush were a tree.
Haha... haven't done this for a long time... ben so busy, my thoughts just spark off millions of others, and it's mentally exhausting trying to keep track of anything blogworthy.
However, I shall endeavour to do so now at the expense of my written report.
Things I wanted to write for my GP essay:
1. Happy birthday to me...
2. The purpose of education is not to fill the mind but to braoden it. Discuss
I disagree with the statement completely. The true purpose of education is to kill oall sorts f joy which students have in life. It enslaves all students, turning them into social retards who have no idea that there actually IS a world outside school...
you get my drift. I felt so abused. My birthday was on the 1st day of promos! the greatest injustice of all time. Haha... but in the 5 days since they have concluded I have made up for it - but have lots to go for the entire year. I have been too busy jetsetting to think about proper relaxation. And in the hols I have the CA, SATS and my community service stuff for my CV to think about. Such is life... ah well... at least it's stuff that doesn't tax my mind.
Speaking of taxing, I have sprained my back muscle by... *drum roll*... STUDYING!!!! spending 4 hours in the same position with a orrific back posture can apparently do that to you... I believe I am the 1st person on earth to do that... hmm... should I send an entry to guiness? Haha... It's ridiculous, the heights to which I can drive myself. And to top it all off, I have this nagging suspiscion that I've done miserably for promos. I shall drive myself crazy with wondering for the whole of next week.
Just started my jewellery making again. I've forgotten how stress-relieving it is... maybe this year, with our knowledge of econs, us beading entrepreneurs might be able to make a profit. Haha... oh well, from what I've seen, I'm doubtful.
Fun times now abound!!! shall watch movies and bead and watch TV and bake till I drop. This is how life should be...
However, I shall endeavour to do so now at the expense of my written report.
Things I wanted to write for my GP essay:
1. Happy birthday to me...
2. The purpose of education is not to fill the mind but to braoden it. Discuss
I disagree with the statement completely. The true purpose of education is to kill oall sorts f joy which students have in life. It enslaves all students, turning them into social retards who have no idea that there actually IS a world outside school...
you get my drift. I felt so abused. My birthday was on the 1st day of promos! the greatest injustice of all time. Haha... but in the 5 days since they have concluded I have made up for it - but have lots to go for the entire year. I have been too busy jetsetting to think about proper relaxation. And in the hols I have the CA, SATS and my community service stuff for my CV to think about. Such is life... ah well... at least it's stuff that doesn't tax my mind.
Speaking of taxing, I have sprained my back muscle by... *drum roll*... STUDYING!!!! spending 4 hours in the same position with a orrific back posture can apparently do that to you... I believe I am the 1st person on earth to do that... hmm... should I send an entry to guiness? Haha... It's ridiculous, the heights to which I can drive myself. And to top it all off, I have this nagging suspiscion that I've done miserably for promos. I shall drive myself crazy with wondering for the whole of next week.
Just started my jewellery making again. I've forgotten how stress-relieving it is... maybe this year, with our knowledge of econs, us beading entrepreneurs might be able to make a profit. Haha... oh well, from what I've seen, I'm doubtful.
Fun times now abound!!! shall watch movies and bead and watch TV and bake till I drop. This is how life should be...
