<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUDSX0_fCp7ImA9WhRbF0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881</id><updated>2012-02-09T13:44:38.344+08:00</updated><category term="Notification" /><category term="Health and Beauty" /><category term="breastfeeding" /><category term="Family" /><category term="DIY" /><category term="Living" /><category term="Musing" /><category term="Parenting" /><category term="Digests" /><category term="Review" /><category term="Phases of Life" /><category term="From the kitchen" /><category term="Faith" /><category term="Tis n Tat" /><category term="Education" /><category term="A Reason To Go On" /><title>Life's little Things</title><subtitle type="html">Life is made up of so many little things around us. Little things that come and go unnoticed, little things that linger, but never stay and also little things that leave footsteps in our life. No matter what, these little things make up what we experience each day, whether we choose to notice it or not. Here, I hope to share these little things in my life, which is just a blog away…</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>71</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/LifesLittleThings" /><feedburner:info uri="lifeslittlethings" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUDSX0-eSp7ImA9WhRbF0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-7569680552751631923</id><published>2012-02-09T12:35:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-09T13:44:38.351+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-09T13:44:38.351+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tis n Tat" /><title>I'm feeling lucky</title><content type="html">Guess what? I just got a gift from Santa! Gosh, it tooks 2 months for my pressie to be delivered from the North Pole, LOL!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hasVnuJ0w7Y/TzNcDt4KZDI/AAAAAAAAB7c/TEuuRcwvvbo/s1600/090220121375.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="211" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hasVnuJ0w7Y/TzNcDt4KZDI/AAAAAAAAB7c/TEuuRcwvvbo/s640/090220121375.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Ah, but I'm not complaining...Now I'll have more reasons to go shopping for books :)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y2iqCKCPon4/TzNcU6nujAI/AAAAAAAAB7k/bHofBoJyqvI/s1600/090220121377.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="297" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-y2iqCKCPon4/TzNcU6nujAI/AAAAAAAAB7k/bHofBoJyqvI/s400/090220121377.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I hope this year will be my lucky year. It's not always I won something for myself ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-7569680552751631923?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/oYVBenLQyrzwLwa6wF5IIH1fB9Q/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/oYVBenLQyrzwLwa6wF5IIH1fB9Q/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/oYVBenLQyrzwLwa6wF5IIH1fB9Q/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/oYVBenLQyrzwLwa6wF5IIH1fB9Q/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/PuU7yf9BpQA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/7569680552751631923/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=7569680552751631923&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/7569680552751631923?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/7569680552751631923?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/PuU7yf9BpQA/im-feeling-lucky.html" title="I'm feeling lucky" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hasVnuJ0w7Y/TzNcDt4KZDI/AAAAAAAAB7c/TEuuRcwvvbo/s72-c/090220121375.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2012/02/im-feeling-lucky.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYNSXwyfSp7ImA9WhRQF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-6814090483232052436</id><published>2011-12-13T12:20:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T12:23:18.295+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-13T12:23:18.295+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Musing" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Phases of Life" /><title>6 Years Down Memory Lane</title><content type="html">I still have not blogged about SY's birth journal. Even after 6 years has passed, it's still fresh in my memory. Well, not to the details like when I had my contraction pains, etc... but I knew I have written it down somewhere in my diary, and even hubby made notes of it for me. Even SY has always asked me to re-tell the story to her over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This time 6 years ago, which also happened to be a Tuesday, I was in the labour room, timing my contraction pain. I was admitted to the hospital around this time, after observing spotting at ~7++ am. So, that day, I didn't report to work, sent a message to my boss and then hubby bought wanton noodles for breakfast. By the time I arrived in hospital, I was sent to the monitoring room to see how strong my contraction pain was. It was very strong, I couldn't really remember now how frequent apart (maybe 10 minutes?). So I was admitted, and my obs broke my water bag at ~12noon. I pleaded with him not to put me on drips because I want a natural delivery. He was not very happy, but he&amp;nbsp;accommodated&amp;nbsp;my request.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By 2pm, still very poor progress of dilation. But the pain was still bearable, even though very strong. I remembered the nurses even helped me dilate. But alas! My obs came in at 7pm, looked at my condition (I only dilated up till 6cm), and told me I had to go for emergency C-sec. I argued with him, and asked him to give me more time. Somehow I believe that I could still make it for natural delivery. I remembered that time, all my family members were praying for me remotely. Hubby kept them posted of my condition thru sms, and we said the Rosary. Outside, hubby's family members gathered.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The obs asked hubby to go outside for awhile, and scolded him! He said, "You engineers thought you know everything, and didn't want to listen to me. You have to ask your wife to agree to go for c-sec. The baby's condition is in danger, blah blah blah". In the end, hubby came in, and talked to me. My MIL was very worried and asked me to go for c-sec. I think I still hanged on till 10pm. I thought I could drag till the next day, because somehow I was misled by a superstitious feeling in me. Earlier that day (or maybe the day before), MIL has told hubby that 13 Dec was not a good day to give birth (she refers to a chinese calendar). And that remark had somehow affected me. So, besides wanting to try for natural birth badly (I've always prepared myself for a natural delivery, and never imagined I could not do it), that remark had caused me to want to delay it till the next day. Thinking of it now, I realised how foolish and superstitious I was.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I finally agreed to go for c-sec after 10++ pm. By then, the&amp;nbsp;anaesthetic&amp;nbsp;had gone home, so we had to wait. I later learnt that my doctor had secretly prepared the operating&amp;nbsp;theater at 7pm, even though he agreed to let me wait. Well, I vaguely remembered signing a paper before the operation, before I fell unconscious. I thought I was half-conscious when I was signing the paper giving my permission to operate me. The next I knew, I was wheeled out of the operating&amp;nbsp;theater, still very drowsy, and heard my hubby telling me, "Our girl looks exactly like you! I'll beat her buttock for putting you in such pain". Look like our precious little girl came out before midnight :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also remembered when I was fully awake, I was alone in the ward. I asked the nurse about my baby. When she carried little SY to me, I saw her smiling at me! How sweet, and that time, my tears welled up. It's such joy to see my little darling finally.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even though I missed seeing my little girl came out from my tummy, hubby recorded everything for me. I saw his family members waiting outside anxiously, and when my girl was out, the paed showed her to my hubby. I'm so glad everything turned out so nicely, and I praised and thank God for such a beautiful gift for us. Indeed, I learnt my lesson - not to be superstitious again, everyday is a good day.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy birthday, Sze Yi darling. You're my princess always.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nS0_Ttx6G0k/TubQwdGsCtI/AAAAAAAAB1o/21rrNVEkrT4/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nS0_Ttx6G0k/TubQwdGsCtI/AAAAAAAAB1o/21rrNVEkrT4/s400/images.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-6814090483232052436?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h5XHoBNcbJMsO_HMn9S91AB1rCQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h5XHoBNcbJMsO_HMn9S91AB1rCQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h5XHoBNcbJMsO_HMn9S91AB1rCQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h5XHoBNcbJMsO_HMn9S91AB1rCQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/BTJpbw_VqNc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/6814090483232052436/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=6814090483232052436&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/6814090483232052436?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/6814090483232052436?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/BTJpbw_VqNc/6-years-down-memory-lane.html" title="6 Years Down Memory Lane" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nS0_Ttx6G0k/TubQwdGsCtI/AAAAAAAAB1o/21rrNVEkrT4/s72-c/images.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2011/12/6-years-down-memory-lane.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYAQ304eCp7ImA9WhRTF0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-7575400466300904020</id><published>2011-11-08T22:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T22:22:22.330+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-08T22:22:22.330+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="From the kitchen" /><title>Doggies Cookies in the Making</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Wow, it's been &lt;a href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2010_11_01_archive.html" target="_blank"&gt;a year&lt;/a&gt; since my girl volunteered me to make sandwiches for her class party. Luckily this year, she came back and asked me first. After some thought, I suggested that we tried the doggies cookies (recipes from &lt;a href="http://happyhomebaking.blogspot.com/2007/01/horlicks-doggie-cookies.html" target="_blank"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;). Since we had a long weekend around the corner, we did a trial run a week in advance.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;SJ went with me to shop for all the ingredients and even accompanied me from start to nearly the end. But she couldn't really help, because the ears just won't stick. I was having a hard time with the ears myself. I guess maybe I put too much flour (since my measurements were just 'agak-agak'). After having a very slow progress, I decided to add more butter, and that seemed to help a little. Not long later, SY came back from Amah's house and luckily we're not done yet so she got to do a few.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nILJu_3tCdM/Trk0700TohI/AAAAAAAABsE/bdA1FKeFgVY/s1600/381770_241298899259451_100001380297523_588139_2116683279_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="297" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nILJu_3tCdM/Trk0700TohI/AAAAAAAABsE/bdA1FKeFgVY/s400/381770_241298899259451_100001380297523_588139_2116683279_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Funny shaped-doggies - I was rather frustrated as the ears kept dropping off&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
So, I ended up making bigger face doggies to hold the ears better, and can finish faster as well. In the process, my girls kept taxing the koko-crunch and the chocolate chips. SJ especially will break them and told me it's spoilt, so she might as well eat it (LOL!)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zNDs3ln6cLs/Trk08i2A8MI/AAAAAAAABsM/sunsL7E6V7w/s1600/383827_241308985925109_100001380297523_588159_2073918934_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zNDs3ln6cLs/Trk08i2A8MI/AAAAAAAABsM/sunsL7E6V7w/s640/383827_241308985925109_100001380297523_588159_2073918934_n.jpg" width="475" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Finally, fresh out from the oven. I think it's slightly over-baked&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I let the girls bring some to school to share out with some close friends the next day. And they came back telling me that the ears and noses fell off, all doggies were out of shape! Now, how come none of my blogger friends who had tried this a few years back never complained about this? What did I do wrong to have falling ears all the time? I will have to think of a good way to pack them nicely next week...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I really hope someone can tell me how I can further improve the 'ears' problem - for both before and after the baking process....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-7575400466300904020?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TMxeDf7MgRlrhaNIFrNi3F69BkM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TMxeDf7MgRlrhaNIFrNi3F69BkM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TMxeDf7MgRlrhaNIFrNi3F69BkM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TMxeDf7MgRlrhaNIFrNi3F69BkM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/Fv291YIV6vs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/7575400466300904020/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=7575400466300904020&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/7575400466300904020?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/7575400466300904020?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/Fv291YIV6vs/doggies-cookies-in-making.html" title="Doggies Cookies in the Making" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nILJu_3tCdM/Trk0700TohI/AAAAAAAABsE/bdA1FKeFgVY/s72-c/381770_241298899259451_100001380297523_588139_2116683279_n.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2011/11/doggies-cookies-in-making.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMCRXc_fip7ImA9WhdVGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-3880605361914835831</id><published>2011-09-24T23:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-24T23:01:04.946+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-24T23:01:04.946+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="A Reason To Go On" /><title>I'll Move On</title><content type="html">It's not as easy as I thought, but I'll manage...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/03hIwjdPWQM?fs=1" width="480"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-3880605361914835831?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/g1pu66BiMw5sZBKyfMchJEJW8xo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/g1pu66BiMw5sZBKyfMchJEJW8xo/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/g1pu66BiMw5sZBKyfMchJEJW8xo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/g1pu66BiMw5sZBKyfMchJEJW8xo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/W5d5xr4EPOY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/3880605361914835831/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=3880605361914835831&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/3880605361914835831?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/3880605361914835831?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/W5d5xr4EPOY/ill-move-on.html" title="I'll Move On" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/03hIwjdPWQM/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2011/09/ill-move-on.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMHRXk9cCp7ImA9WhdQFUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-9097283368767016945</id><published>2011-08-17T22:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-17T22:13:54.768+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-17T22:13:54.768+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Phases of Life" /><title>Moving On</title><content type="html">&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;When one door of happiness closes, another opens,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;but often we look so long at the closed door&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;that we do not see the one that has been opened for us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;- Helen Keller&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It's finally over. Time for me to move on. I guess I could never understand why, how or when. But the sight will be forever etched in my memory.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I learnt a great lesson - the hard way. Never ever take things for granted. Maybe God has other plans for me, I don't know. But I do know that He's finally answered my prayer. Whether He'll give me a 2nd chance or not, time will tell. And I will need to continue to have faith in Him, no matter how difficult for me to accept this.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I close this chapter and move on, I prayed that God will continue to take good care of us and bless us always, giving us the perseverance and strength to carry on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tisnnUbp78M/TkvGxbHrmPI/AAAAAAAABm8/Fwufmn5xlzA/s1600/whatever_happens-2725.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tisnnUbp78M/TkvGxbHrmPI/AAAAAAAABm8/Fwufmn5xlzA/s400/whatever_happens-2725.png" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-9097283368767016945?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wWGAFWvIrM971OTCUskUVlSWGmE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wWGAFWvIrM971OTCUskUVlSWGmE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wWGAFWvIrM971OTCUskUVlSWGmE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wWGAFWvIrM971OTCUskUVlSWGmE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/hn8hLPfkxZQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/9097283368767016945/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=9097283368767016945&amp;isPopup=true" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/9097283368767016945?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/9097283368767016945?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/hn8hLPfkxZQ/moving-on.html" title="Moving On" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tisnnUbp78M/TkvGxbHrmPI/AAAAAAAABm8/Fwufmn5xlzA/s72-c/whatever_happens-2725.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>6</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2011/08/moving-on.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEUFRX06fyp7ImA9WhdQEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-3272614777568246585</id><published>2011-08-13T07:24:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-13T07:36:54.317+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-13T07:36:54.317+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="A Reason To Go On" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><title>Grasping Life's Reality...</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://media.photobucket.com/image/serenity%20prayer/sk8rpunxrock1313/TheSerenityPrayer.jpg?o=29" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://i129.photobucket.com/albums/p206/sk8rpunxrock1313/TheSerenityPrayer.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-3272614777568246585?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JeHZhozH956H9R2kE5IAY4yrGHQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JeHZhozH956H9R2kE5IAY4yrGHQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JeHZhozH956H9R2kE5IAY4yrGHQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JeHZhozH956H9R2kE5IAY4yrGHQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/15kUbGXOAnE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/3272614777568246585/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=3272614777568246585&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/3272614777568246585?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/3272614777568246585?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/15kUbGXOAnE/serenity-prayer_13.html" title="Grasping Life's Reality..." /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2011/08/serenity-prayer_13.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU8DRXg4cCp7ImA9WhZbGU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-3059907692382588819</id><published>2011-06-24T02:55:00.058+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-24T16:24:34.638+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-06-24T16:24:34.638+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Phases of Life" /><title>Birthday reflections...</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Inside every older person is a younger person - wondering what the hell happened. - Cora Harvey Armstrong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Have you ever attended a birthday party meant for others (but not you) on your actual birthday? How does it feel? When everyone (including you) will be singing a birthday song for the birthday babies, but none was directed to you? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, I have the&amp;nbsp;privilege&amp;nbsp;to experience one this year, and it's really meaningful! Really, especially when they drilled into you how much suffering your mom have to go thru in order to give you a birthday. I am the mom and the birthday girl today. So I can't help it that I was especially touched when I hear the story about the &lt;a href="http://www.slideshare.net/ohteikbin/the-boy-and-the-apple-treea-touching-story"&gt;boy &amp;amp; the apple tree&lt;/a&gt;. It reminds me so much of how much sacrifice my parents have to go thru in order to give me life and the best things of life. I, in turn, did I show them enough how much I appreciated them? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;When you turn thirty, a whole new thing happens: you see yourself acting like you parents.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"&gt;- Blair Sabol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
It's been &lt;a href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2009/06/birthday-psalms.html"&gt;two years&lt;/a&gt; since I last talked about checkpoint. Birthdays are just checkpoint for us to know if we've done our part in life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;“And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This year, I'm no longer considered young. That reminds me that my parents are neither so - I aged with them year by year. As I grow wiser in life, have I done my part in caring for my parents and be there for them as how they have been for me all these while? Well, even if I did, I know it's never enough. I don't think I could ever repay them for all they have done. That's why this birthday, I thank them instead of waiting for them to wish me "happy birthday". I owe my &lt;i&gt;birthday&lt;/i&gt; to them,&lt;i&gt; if&lt;/i&gt; they have decided not to bring me to life, I won't be here today. That's why I'm especially thankful to God for giving me such loving parents and it's all the more wonderful when your parents told you that you're their best gift in their life. Well, I'm so lucky that my parents kept reminding me about this, and I felt their birthday and parent's day messages were really touching and unique - won't you agree so?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;A diplomat is a man who always remembers a woman's birthday but never remembers her age. - Robert Frost&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-3059907692382588819?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cqLCA48gAcEePG4Ua1oTZWwYP64/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cqLCA48gAcEePG4Ua1oTZWwYP64/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cqLCA48gAcEePG4Ua1oTZWwYP64/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cqLCA48gAcEePG4Ua1oTZWwYP64/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/jy0kxbzyMX4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/3059907692382588819/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=3059907692382588819&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/3059907692382588819?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/3059907692382588819?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/jy0kxbzyMX4/birthday-reflections.html" title="Birthday reflections..." /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2011/06/birthday-reflections.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEHQXo4eyp7ImA9WhZWGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-1707418159965118523</id><published>2011-05-20T13:00:00.015+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T14:23:50.433+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-20T14:23:50.433+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="breastfeeding" /><title>Why Does Weaning Have to Come with Guilt?</title><content type="html">I have been reminding my little one that she should stop nursing when she turned 3. And she nodded&amp;nbsp;every time&amp;nbsp;in agreement. However, after awhile, she would ask me, "I'm not 3 yet right, Mommy? So I can still drink your nen nen?" As you can guess, I always give in to her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have tried to wean her off many times, without much success. Maybe it's because I didn't try hard enough. Why? How could you say "&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;No&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;" when she looked up at you with such pleading eyes, and a promise that it'll be the last time ever? I was quite successful with lemon once, a tips from a breastfeeding mother. However, I washed it away after a few times because I felt guilty - seeing how pitifully she cried after tasting it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since then, I tried to reason with her. That she's now a big girl, and so she has to drink milk from the bottle (she used to drink from the cup at school and at home sometimes, but always declined the bottle). I couldn't remember when she started to accept the bottle, and from then, she has been drinking formula at least once or twice a day at home. Then, I have successfully got her to drink milk from the bottle before bedtime, with the promise that she could drink from mine after that. It was not easy to convince her at first, that's why I introduced the pacifier to her. Yes, you might wonder, at such age? She looked at it as a toy, really. So I told her if she wanted the pacifier, then she had to drink milk from the bottle, and stopped taking from Mommy's. Surprisingly, it's not successful, a paci could never replace Mommy's - for her case. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, the closest I've nearly weaned her off was when I cooked up a story about the&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://littleszeyi.blogspot.com/2011/04/last-of-my-first-tooth.html"&gt;Tooth Fairy&lt;/a&gt;. She joined in the excitement of waiting for the Tooth Fairy to get her a pressie in exchange of her pacifier, and keeping her promise to only drink milk from the bottle. Well, she's very close to succeed, she never once requested milk from me, even though she had difficulty sleeping. Not until towards very late at night, and she asked me, "Just a little bit, Mommy?" And true enough, she stopped after taking a few suckles.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last week, I finally succeeded in making her drink milk from the bottle in the morning, before she went to school. That's a great milestone, because it not only improved her temperament while preparing her for school, but it also eased the coming transition that I had in mind for her - when she finally turned 3. Of course, it came with a hefty price to pay, because I always ended up late for work while trying to coax her to drink from the bottle, but the end results was very rewarding.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's been 2 days after she turned 3, and I can say it's very successful so far. How? Yes, the lemon. At first I thought she started to like the taste afterall, but luckily, it's still working now. She took a taste, made her face and said, "I'll wait for Mommy's nen nen to become not so spicy, ya". I felt guilty every time she said that. I tried to cajole her to try again, maybe it's not so spicy now? She would push me away and prefer me to hug her or pat her to sleep. Sigh... should I wash it away?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WAvP9un1UC4/TdX8Epylq6I/AAAAAAAABhw/cZ0svrUFcZM/s1600/paid-for-by-lemon-growers-to-foster-lemon-awareness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="316" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WAvP9un1UC4/TdX8Epylq6I/AAAAAAAABhw/cZ0svrUFcZM/s320/paid-for-by-lemon-growers-to-foster-lemon-awareness.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-1707418159965118523?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3zO6MybUsrc_eFL_23brhu_TXnk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3zO6MybUsrc_eFL_23brhu_TXnk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3zO6MybUsrc_eFL_23brhu_TXnk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3zO6MybUsrc_eFL_23brhu_TXnk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/zD7eMWZ63p4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/1707418159965118523/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=1707418159965118523&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/1707418159965118523?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/1707418159965118523?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/zD7eMWZ63p4/why-does-weaning-have-to-come-with.html" title="Why Does Weaning Have to Come with Guilt?" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WAvP9un1UC4/TdX8Epylq6I/AAAAAAAABhw/cZ0svrUFcZM/s72-c/paid-for-by-lemon-growers-to-foster-lemon-awareness.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2011/05/why-does-weaning-have-to-come-with.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcCSXc8cSp7ImA9WhZRGEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-1861781099688188236</id><published>2011-04-15T13:03:00.079+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-15T17:01:08.979+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-15T17:01:08.979+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Musing" /><title>TGIF!</title><content type="html">I've never felt more grateful for the arrival of a Friday in my life. Not so much that it's time to wrap up my work for the week and switched into the weekend mood, but it also means no more laundry to do! Well, that was before our washing machine gave way and stopped draining. If it didn't decide to suddenly strike on us, that would mean more laundry since that's the only time I can maximise the help from Mr. Sunshine out there while I'm &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; at work.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's been two weeks that our washer was out of function, which also means that's how long we had to hand-wash all our clothes. It's a lucky thing that hubby sweetly volunteered to take turns with me, so we get to rest one day in between. Yes, we had to do our laundry everyday because we only bought 2 sets of uniforms for the kids, so if we skip one day, they won't have a uniform to wear the next day. That's how important it is to wash &lt;i&gt;every&lt;/i&gt; single day.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KDVZTr8MJRM/TagFxJbSdYI/AAAAAAAABf0/nqIc5vOAZV8/s1600/090422-202438-068010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KDVZTr8MJRM/TagFxJbSdYI/AAAAAAAABf0/nqIc5vOAZV8/s320/090422-202438-068010.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="288" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Poor me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While it's easier to wash the kids' clothings, that's not so with the adults' clothings. We both ended up having back-aches all over, and Hubby even declared that he &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;hated&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;washing clothes with both his hands on facebook right after he completed this task by the 2nd week :) Seriously, we sure hope the technician would quickly source the faulty part and fix it for us. MIL even suggested that we get a new one while waiting for the old one to be fixed, or dump the old one entirely without fixing it. Sigh, if only we have more luxury to buy such convenience.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what happened to the laundry on a weekend? They got transported to a home laundry service, FOC. Not only that, it came back nicely pressed and folded, something which I wouldn't be able to accomplish with each wash myself. So, maybe that's why we didn't really bother to chase the technician for the fix, you got what I mean? (wink!).&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I couldn't be more grateful to this 3 aids in my life right now -&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a. the washer for the much precious time it helped us saved from washing those clothes ourselves, the many backaches that we could have avoided, the efficient draining skill that&amp;nbsp;expedite&amp;nbsp;the otherwise long drying process, and the unavoidable&amp;nbsp;worries that came from seeing the clothes piling higher each day. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;b. the man of my life, for willingly share out the workload (and backaches too) without any complain (apart from his release of emotion in facebook recently!).&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MpPUhprtHkw/TagFw1VdNAI/AAAAAAAABfw/AgGkVROrQJ4/s1600/3809_picture_of_a_hard_working_man_doing_the_laundry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="341" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MpPUhprtHkw/TagFw1VdNAI/AAAAAAAABfw/AgGkVROrQJ4/s400/3809_picture_of_a_hard_working_man_doing_the_laundry.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;c. and of course, MIL for always being there for us, whenever we need it - for such wonderful service.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, wouldn't you say I'm the most fortunate person on earth? :) Ah... how I wish I could have all 3 of this....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GvwgHhNoFuM/TagFweWriiI/AAAAAAAABfs/NbDP-Vc8L08/s1600/6a00d83451be5969e200e54f553a288833-640wi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="270" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GvwgHhNoFuM/TagFweWriiI/AAAAAAAABfs/NbDP-Vc8L08/s400/6a00d83451be5969e200e54f553a288833-640wi.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Now, I did own 2 of these, but none of which were functioning at the moment....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-1861781099688188236?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ymMVknyPJBLl_WNaK7hAkWvRyWs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ymMVknyPJBLl_WNaK7hAkWvRyWs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ymMVknyPJBLl_WNaK7hAkWvRyWs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ymMVknyPJBLl_WNaK7hAkWvRyWs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/YFdbZS6Dhwo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/1861781099688188236/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=1861781099688188236&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/1861781099688188236?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/1861781099688188236?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/YFdbZS6Dhwo/tgif.html" title="TGIF!" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KDVZTr8MJRM/TagFxJbSdYI/AAAAAAAABf0/nqIc5vOAZV8/s72-c/090422-202438-068010.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2011/04/tgif.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkIAR3g5fCp7ImA9WhZSGUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-1393316126794346300</id><published>2011-04-05T18:00:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-05T18:15:46.624+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-04-05T18:15:46.624+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><title>The 40 Days...</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;It's the time of the year again, and I find this very meaningful to share here. Even though this was forwarded to me a year ago, I still find it a refreshing read.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;WHAT  IS&amp;nbsp;LENT?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330099; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Historically, Lent is  the 40-day period before Easter, which the Church uses to prepare for the  celebration of our Lord Jesus Christ's Resurrection on Easter  Sunday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330099; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;WHEN DOES LENT  BEGIN?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Lent begins on Ash Wednesday,&amp;nbsp; the day on which they faithfully  have their foreheads signed with ashes in the form of a Cross. It ends at noon  on Holy Saturday. The 40 days excludes the five Sundays of Lent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Why are foreheads marked with a cross on Ash  Wednesday?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;In the Bible a  mark on the forehead is a symbol of a person's ownership. By having the forehead  marked with the sign of a cross, it symbolizes that the person belongs to Jesus  Christ, who died on a Cross. This is in imitation of the spiritual mark or seal  that is put on a Christian at baptism, where he is delivered from slavery to sin  and the devil, and made a servant of righteousness and Christ (Romans 6:3-18).  It is also in imitation of the way the righteous are described in the book of  Revelation: "Do not harm the earth or the sea or the trees, till we have sealed  the servants of our God upon their foreheads." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;(Revelations 7:3)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Why is the signing  done with ashes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Ashes are a biblical  symbol of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;mourning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;"&gt; and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: 12pt;"&gt; penance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;. In Bible times the custom was to fast,  wear sackcloth, sit in dust and ashes, and put dust and ashes on one's head.  While we no longer normally wear sackcloth or sit in dust and ashes, the customs  of fasting and putting ashes on one's forehead as a sign of mourning and penance  have survived to this day. These are the two key distinctions of Lent. In fact,  Ash Wednesday is a day not only for putting ashes on one's head, but also  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;a day of  fasting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Is there another  significance to the ashes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Yes. It also symbolize death and so  to remind us of our mortality. Thus when the priest uses his thumb to sign one  of the faithful with the ashes, he says, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;"Remember,  that thou art dust and unto dust thou shalt return,"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt; which is modeled  after God's address to Adam &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;(Gen 3:19; Job 34:15;  Ps 90:3; Ps 104:29, Ecc 3:20)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;. This also echoes the words at a burial,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;"Ashes to ashes; dust to dust,"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt; which is  based on God's words to Adam and Abraham's confession, "I am nothing but dust  and ashes" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;(Gen 18:27)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;. It is thus a  reminder of our mortality and our need to repent before this life is over and we  face our Creator.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Where do the ashes  used on Ash Wednesday come from?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;They are made by burning palm fronds  which have been saved from the previous year's Palm Sunday, they are then  blessed by a priest -- blessed ashes have been used in God's rituals since the  time of Moses &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;(Num 19:9-10, 17)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Why are ashes from  the previous year's Palm Sunday used?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Palm Sunday was when the people  rejoiced at Jesus' triumphal entrance to Jerusalem. They celebrated his arrival  by waving palm fronds, little realizing that he was coming to die for their  sins. By using palms from Palm Sunday, it is a reminder that we must not only  rejoice of Jesus' coming but also regret the fact that our sins made it  necessary for him to die for us in order to save us from hell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Why are Sundays  excluded from the reckoning of the forty days?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Because Sunday is the day on which  Christ rose, making it an inappropriate day to fast and mourn of our sins. On  Sunday we must celebrate Christ's Resurrection for our salvation. It is Friday  on which we commemorate his death for our sins. The Sundays of the year are days  of celebration and the Fridays of the year are days of penance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Why is Lent forty  days long?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;40  days is a traditional number of discipline, devotion, and preparation in the  Bible. Moses stayed on the Mountain of God 40 days &lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;(Ex 24:18, 34:28)&lt;/span&gt;, Elijah traveled 40 days before  he reached the cave where he had his vision&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt; (1  Kings 19:8&lt;/span&gt;), Nineveh was given 40 days to repent (Jon 3:4), and most  importantly, prior to undertaking his ministry,&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099;"&gt;  Jesus spent 40 days in the wilderness praying and fasting &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;(Matt 4:2)&lt;/span&gt;. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Since Lent is a period of  prayer and fasting, it is fitting for Christians to imitate&amp;nbsp; Lord with a 40-day  period. Christ used a 40-day period of prayer and fasting to prepare for his  ministry, which culminated in his death and resurrection, and thus it is fitting  for Christians to imitate him with a 40-day period of prayer and fasting to  prepare for the celebration of his ministry's climax, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;Good Friday (His crucifixion)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt; and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;Easter Sunday (His Resurrection).&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Thus the  Catechism of the Catholic Church states: "'For we have not a high priest who is  unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been  tested as we are, yet without sinning' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;[Heb 4:15].  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;By the solemn forty days of Lent the Church unites herself each year to  the mystery of Jesus in the desert." (CCC 540).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Why are the forty  days called Lent?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;They are called&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt; Lent&lt;/span&gt; because that is the &lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;Old English word for spring&lt;/span&gt;. Not just because it  is the season of the year during which it falls, but because Lent is the  Church's Springtime during which we start fresh. This is something unique to  English. In almost all other languages, Lent's name is a derivative of the Latin  term, &lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;Quadragesima, or "the forty days."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;What is a day of  fast and abstinence?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Under current Canon law in the  Western Rite of the Church, a day of fast is one on which Catholics who are  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;eighteen to sixty years old&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt; are required to  keep a limited fast. In most countries, one may eat a single, normal meal and  have two snacks, so long as these snacks do not add up to a second meal.  Children are not required to fast, but their parents must ensure they are  properly educated in the spiritual practice of fasting. Those with medical  conditions requiring a greater or more regular food intake can easily be  dispensed from the requirement of fasting by their pastor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;A day of abstinence is a day on which Catholics fourteen  years or older are required to abstain from eating meat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt; Again, persons  with special dietary needs can easily be dispensed by their pastor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Is there a  biblical basis for abstaining from meat as a sign of repentance?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Yes. The book of Daniel states: "In  the third year of Cyrus king of Persia . . . 'I, Daniel, mourned for three  weeks. I ate no choice food; no meat or wine touched my lips; and I used no  lotions at all until the three weeks were over.'" (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;Daniel 10:1-3)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;By giving up good things  and denying them to ourselves we encourage an attitude of humility, free  ourselves from dependence on them, cultivate the spiritual discipline of being  willing to make personal sacrifices, and remind ourselves of the importance of  spiritual goods over earthly goods. Since the Catholic Church only requires  abstinence from meat on a temporary basis, it clearly does not regard meat is  immoral. Instead, it regards it as the giving up of a good thing (which in less  economically developed regions -- including the whole world until very recently  -- was expensive and thus eaten at festive occasions, making it a sign of  rejoicing) to attain a spiritual goal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;On what basis does  the Church have the authority to establish days of fast and  abstinence?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;On the authority of Jesus Christ who  told the leaders of His Church, "Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in  heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;(Matthew 16:19, 18:18).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt; The language of binding  and loosing (in part) was a rabbinic way of referring to the ability to  establish binding halakah or rules of conduct for the faith community. To  approach the issue from another angle, every family has the authority to  establish particular family devotions for its members. Thus if the parents  decide that the family will engage in a particular devotion at a particular time  (say, Bible reading after supper), it is a sin for the children to disobey and  skip the devotion for no good reason. In the same way, the Church as the family  of God has the authority to establish its own family devotion, and it is a sin  for the members of the Church to disobey and skip the devotions for no good  reason (though of course if the person has a good reason, the Church dispenses  him immediately).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;In addition to Ash  Wednesday, are any other days during Lent days of fast or  abstinence?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Yes. All Fridays during Lent are days  of abstinence. Also, Good Friday, the day on which Christ was crucified, is  another day of both fast and abstinence. All days in Lent are appropriate for  fasting or abstaining, but Canon law does not require fasting on these days.  Such fasting or abstinence is voluntary, like a freewill offering.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Why are Fridays  during Lent days of abstinence?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;This is because Jesus died for our  sins on Friday, making it an especially appropriate day of mourning our sins  (just as Sunday, the day on which he rose for our salvation is an especially  appropriate day to rejoice) by denying ourselves something we enjoy. During the  rest of the year Catholics in this country are permitted to use a different act  of penance on Friday in place of abstinence, though all Fridays are days of  penance on which we are required to do something expressing sorrow for our sins,  just as Sundays are holy days on which we are required to worship and celebrate  God's great gift of salvation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Are acts of  repentance appropriate on other days during Lent?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Yes. Thus the Code of Canon Law  states: "All Fridays through the year and the time of Lent are penitential days  and time throughout the universal Church" (CIC 1250).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;What are  appropriate activities for ordinary days during Lent?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Giving up something we enjoy for  Lent, doing physical or spiritual acts of mercy for others, prayer, fasting and  abstinence, attention to our duties, and going to confession and other acts  expressing repentance in general.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Why are acts of  repentance appropriate at this time of year?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Because it is the time leading up to  the commemoration of Our Lord's death for our sins and the commemoration of his  resurrection for our salvation. It is thus especially appropriate to mourn the  sins for which he died. Humans have an innate psychological need to mourn  tragedies, and our sins are tragedies of the greatest sort. Due to our fallen  nature, humans also have a need to have set times in which to engage in behavior  (which is why we have Sundays as a set time to rest and worship, since we would  otherwise be likely to forget to devote sufficient time to rest and worship), it  is appropriate to have set times of repentance. Lent is one of those set times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Is the custom of  giving up something for Lent mandatory?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;No. However, it is a good and  beneficial custom, and parents or caretakers may choose to require it of their  children to encourage their spiritual training, which is their prime  responsibility in the raising of their children.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Since Sundays are  not counted in the forty days of Lent, does the custom of giving up something  apply to them?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Customarily, no. However, since the  giving up of something is voluntary to begin with, there is no official rule  concerning this aspect of it. Nevertheless, since Sundays are days of  celebration, it is appropriate to suspend the Lenten self-denial on them, in a  spiritual and non-excessive way, we may celebrate the day of Our Lord's  resurrection so that that day and that event may be contrasted with the rest of  the days of Lent and the rest of the events of history. This heightened contrast  deepens the spiritual lessons taught by the rest of Lent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Why is giving up  something for Lent such a good and beneficial custom?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;By denying ourselves something we  enjoy, we discipline our wills so that we are not slaves to our pleasures. Just  as indulging the pleasure of eating leads to physical flabbiness and, if this is  great enough, an inability to perform in physically demanding situations,  indulging in pleasure in general leads to spiritual flabbiness and, if this is  great enough, an inability to perform in spiritual demanding situations, we when  the demands of morality require us to sacrifice something pleasurable (such as  sex before marriage or not within the confines of marriage) or endure hardship  (such as being scorned or persecuted for the faith). By disciplining the will to  refuse pleasures when they are not sinful, a habit is developed which allows the  will to refuse pleasures when they are sinful. There are few better ways to keep  one's priorities straight than by periodically denying ourselves things of  lesser priority to show us that they are not necessary and focus our attention  on what is necessary.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099;"&gt;Is denying of  pleasure an end in itself?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;No. It is only a means  to an end. By training ourselves to resist temptations when they are not sinful,  we train ourselves to reject temptations when they are sinful. We also express  our sorrow over having failed to resist sinful temptations in the past.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Is there such a  thing as denying ourselves too many pleasures?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Most definitely.  First, God made human life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #c0504d; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;contingent on certain goods, such as food,  and to refuse to enjoy enough of them has harmful consequences. For example, if  we do not eat enough food it can cause physical damage or (in the extreme, even  death). Just as there is a balance between eating too much food and not eating  enough food, there is a balance involved in other goods. Second, if we do not  strike the right balance and deny ourselves goods God meant us to have then it  can generate resentment toward God, which is a spiritual sin just as much as  those of engaging in excesses of good things. Thus one can be led into sin  either by excess or by defect in the enjoyment of good things. Third, it can  decrease our effectiveness in ministering to others. Fourth, it can deprive us  of the goods God gave us in order that we might praise him. Fifth, it  constitutes the sin of ingratitude by refusing to enjoy the things God wanted us  to have because he loves us. If a child refused every gift his parent gave him,  it would displease the parent, and if we refuse gifts God has given us, it  displeases God because he loves us and wants us to have them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;A side from Ash  Wednesday, which begins Lent, what are its principal events?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;There are a variety of saints' days  which fall during Lent, and some of these change from year to year since the  dates of Lent itself change based on when Easter falls. However, the Sundays  during the Lenten season commemorate special events in the life of Our Lord,  such as his Transfiguration and his Triumphal Entrance into Jerusalem on Palm  Sunday, which begins Holy Week. Holy Week climaxes with Holy Thursday, on which  Christ celebrated the first Mass, Good Friday, on which he was Crucified, and  Holy Saturday -- the last day of Lent -- during which Our Lord lay in the Tomb  before his Resurrection on Easter Sunday, the first day after Lent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Fasting for  Lent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;For centuries, Christians have  observed the season of Lent by fasting from food and observing other  self-denying acts.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;These acts help us become more aware of our true needs.  When we deny ourselves the comforts we are used to—whether a full plate of food,  or some other part of our daily routine (TV, coffee, alcohol, Internet, etc.)—  we are more mindful of our great need for God. Also, when we deny our sinful  desires, we become more acutely aware of them, for when they are not fed, they  tend to surface in more noticeable ways. Most importantly, these practices make  us mindful of our need for salvation by Jesus' death on the cross.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Removing  Distractions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;What follows is some suggestions for  ways to fast. None of these are compulsory. Remember that the important thing is  to take away distractions, to focus instead on the mercy, salvation, and  comforting provision of God. Make time and space for God, and God will meet you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;What can I give  up?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;First, some important considerations:  if you have any concerns about whether dietary fasting (fasting from food) is  safe for you, ask your physician, especially if you have a health concern  (heart, diabetes). Don't fast from food if your are pregnant or nursing; make  sure you always get plenty of fluids; and finally, don't make decisions for  others (for example, don't modify a child's diet except to help them decide to  cut nonessentials like sodas or desserts, etc.).&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;You know yourself best:  which of the following might you do without? Try adding to your list each week  (see the individual pages of the&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;" title="http://www.holyspiritinteractive.net/features/lent/dev_calendar.asp"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;" title="http://www.holyspiritinteractive.net/features/lent/dev_calendar.asp"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.holyspiritinteractive.net/features/lent/dev_calendar.asp"&gt;Calendar&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt; to read more specific  suggestions). If you fast from all the food items listed in the Calendar pages,  you may find that at the end of several weeks, you are eating very simply:  vegetables, beans, rice, fruit, grains, etc. Take the suggestions one step at a  time and make sure you do what is necessary to have energy for your work and  family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;Suggested fast  items:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Food: Meats, poultry (eggs too), fats  and oils, soft drinks, second helpings, alcohol, coffee (try tea or some other  low-caffeine drink if you get headaches), dairy (milk and cheese), junk food  (chips, snacks, excessively salty food), candy (plus refined sugar in general),  and dessert (great for kids—very meaningful!).&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Media: TV, movies,  computer, email (set an autoresponder), Internet, magazines, radio, the phone  (leave your cell phone off when appropriate), handheld computers, video games,  and other technology.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Other Things: You may want to fast from certain  relationships, or people in general, choosing instead to walk alone with God for  a period. You may also fast from social events, parties, or clubs, if you  regularly go out of your way for that kind of gathering.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Days: Leave it  all behind: leave junk food, TV, cars, noise, and all the media and messages of  the culture. Pack the very minimum (water, warm clothes, etc.) and find a trail,  or a beach, and feast on God.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Imitate Jesus, who took whole days to walk  alone in the wilderness fasting and praying. Give God the time and the room that  he wants. God wants to fill you up, wants to bless you. If we are constantly  pouring other stuff into our heads or stomachs, there will be little room for  God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: #330099; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;On what days  should I fast?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Fast on any day but Sunday, which is  a feast day even in Lent. On Friday (the day of the crucifixion), many world  Christians will fast from meat, and it can be meaningful to join them. Try  fasting from something on each day, Monday-Saturday. You may choose one day to  fast from all foods or other comforts for as much of the day that you can  (remembering to drink plenty of fluids). End your weekly fast on Sunday: on this  day, enjoy your food and your freedom!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;When  you fast, do not put on a sad face as the hypocrites do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16px;"&gt; They  neglect their appearance so that everyone will see that they are fasting. I  assure you, they have already been paid in full. When you go without food, wash  your face and comb your hair, so that others cannot know that you are  fasting—only your Father, who is unseen, will know. And your Father, who sees  what you do in private, will reward you. &lt;span style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;(Matthew  6:16-18 - TEV)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-1393316126794346300?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AOZKMBe_eyX3vsC5IpLyiBqYZJg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AOZKMBe_eyX3vsC5IpLyiBqYZJg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AOZKMBe_eyX3vsC5IpLyiBqYZJg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AOZKMBe_eyX3vsC5IpLyiBqYZJg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/x0vJqTHgTsk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/1393316126794346300/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=1393316126794346300&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/1393316126794346300?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/1393316126794346300?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/x0vJqTHgTsk/40-days.html" title="The 40 Days..." /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2011/04/40-days.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQCRn89fCp7ImA9WhZTFko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-1161606337599941313</id><published>2011-03-21T06:48:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-21T09:52:47.164+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-21T09:52:47.164+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="A Reason To Go On" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Phases of Life" /><title>Rules for Being Human</title><content type="html">Something inspirational to start off the week...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;object height="390" width="640"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/c2wopO178LQ&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;version=3"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/c2wopO178LQ&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;version=3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="640" height="390"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #454545; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 14px;"&gt;In life, no one is given a handbook to guide them down the "right" path. There are always opportunities to grow, and you must make the most of the lessons you learn in order to evolve as a person. You are constantly learning -- from both your mistakes and your successes -- but how you apply this knowledge is solely up to you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color: #454545; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 14px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-1161606337599941313?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/r0SutnvukNfS6wHDDgXJKjCJUS0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/r0SutnvukNfS6wHDDgXJKjCJUS0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/r0SutnvukNfS6wHDDgXJKjCJUS0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/r0SutnvukNfS6wHDDgXJKjCJUS0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/7pYj67jczCY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/1161606337599941313/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=1161606337599941313&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/1161606337599941313?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/1161606337599941313?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/7pYj67jczCY/rules-for-being-human.html" title="Rules for Being Human" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2011/03/rules-for-being-human.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUEBR3wzfip7ImA9WhZTFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-3249631837725138575</id><published>2011-03-18T12:33:00.022+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-18T16:40:56.286+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-18T16:40:56.286+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><title>A Matter of Faith - From a Child's Perspective</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-TgnVYzzO2JU/TYL6GpltM9I/AAAAAAAABbY/VxMLLpO0YDM/s1600/7fb282be-bdd2-4010-8241-7e6eaa4ba1fe_Faith1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="271" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-TgnVYzzO2JU/TYL6GpltM9I/AAAAAAAABbY/VxMLLpO0YDM/s400/7fb282be-bdd2-4010-8241-7e6eaa4ba1fe_Faith1.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;When hubby and I agreed to tie the knot, we came to a consensus that we'd let the children decide on their faith when they are &lt;i&gt;'matured'&lt;/i&gt; enough. Of course, we would guide them along the way, given the fact that we couldn't let them choose their own school, or certain things which we felt we're in a better position to decide for them at this age.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However, given the&amp;nbsp;circumstances&amp;nbsp;that it's a mixed marriage, it's only fair to let them choose later. Even though it's my&amp;nbsp;responsibility&amp;nbsp;as a Catholic parent to do all I could to guide them closer to God, the final call is still not within my control. I trust that God will take care of everything for me, and a broken marriage would be the last on His list. So, there's really no point arguing over whose side the kids should take, because a happy family is all that matters. Furthermore, all religion teach us to be good.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, as we journey in faith together, I wouldn't deny that it's not easy to juggle with so many differences, especially when it's not just about the two of us, but when two families are involved. We'll have to give and take most of the time. Indeed, if things were not handled wisely, but rather too clouded by emotion, the one that suffers most would be the children.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;During these years, we did our best on how well we could educate them on this subject. We exposed them as much as we could to both religions. And I was amazed at how well SY coped with this (she's matured enough to understand certain things at this age). SJ was still too young to understand, so she she just went with the flow most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Actually I brought this up because I wanted to record down some funny or touching moments that we had, especially when you see it from a child's perspective. Some may or may not be of direct relevant, but it's still good to lump them here.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-JxnqWToVuy0/TYL6PlKu6aI/AAAAAAAABbc/X2eG-KEJsHA/s1600/vsh0768l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="390" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-JxnqWToVuy0/TYL6PlKu6aI/AAAAAAAABbc/X2eG-KEJsHA/s400/vsh0768l.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;E.P.A:&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"&gt;Environmental Protection Agency&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Scenario 1:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
SY tends to jump sides very easily. One day, she would tell me that when she grows up, she wants to be a Christian like me, and ask SJ to follow Daddy. But when she's talking to Daddy, she can switch very fast, and say the reverse thing. So when both of us are around, she would hesitate and say, "Erm, how ler... I want to follow Mommy and also Daddy". So we'll tell them it's ok, she didn't need to choose now yet. My, she felt so relieved!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Scenario 2:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Every morning when we drop them at school, there's this guy who would stand in front of the school compound and greet them with "Good Morning, Amitabha". And they were asked to put their hands together and bowed slightly while saying that. So they will call that man &lt;i&gt;Amitable Uncle&lt;/i&gt;. It's funny to hear them say among themselves, "Let's see if the Amitable Uncle is here or not".&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Scenario 3:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
They learnt how to say their graces before meals after attending school. Sometimes, they practise this at home as well. Of course, we're all 'forced' to say it together with them. I had to explain to SY that I can't say this, as I'm a Christian (They say thank you to Buddha, Thank you to the priest, etc..). I explained to her that I would say thank you to Jesus instead of to Buddha. And when she said Amitable to me, I replied with Amen to her. She showed me a level of understanding that I suddenly realised she has grown up. For instance, she would know that I can't do certain things so she'll add, "It's ok, Mommy can be excused. That's because she prays to Jesus".&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Scenario 4:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
We're attending Mass in church. All the congregation stood up for the entrance hymn. Then suddenly, I saw SY whispered something into hubby's ear, so he sat down again. Apparently, SY told him only Christian can stand up, Buddhists have to sit down. We can't help laughing but I told hubby to stand back up as a sign of respect.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Scenario 5:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Well, I still do my part the best I could. I would bring them to church, even if it means going alone with 2 kids, unless I wanted to have some quiet time alone, then I'll leave them at home. One day, I took them to the new church because I've missed the Mass at the church that I regularly go to, as this new church has Mass on a Sunday evening. Since it's my first time there (or was it 2nd? the first time I reached there by accident!), I lost my way, so both girls were busy helping me find the direction (as if they knew!). SJ has not had her afternoon nap, so she was dozing off. However,&amp;nbsp;every time&amp;nbsp;I pointed out that "Oh dear, SJ has slept", she would replied me with "No lar, I'm helping Mommy to find the way". And not long later, I saw her nodding off again. This could repeat for a few more times, until I finally found the place.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Scenario 6:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I bought a little Bible for kids during Christmas last year. Ever since then, it has become their bedtime story. They will request me to read a few stories for them every night, SY would ask for 2, and SJ would choose another 2. In fact, SY could read them all on her own now, and she even read to SJ when I'm busy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Isn't it amazing to hear such words from a girl who's not even 6 yet? I couldn't imagine what to expect a few more years down the road... but it's surely something to be praised!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-yiZ2QSE2jfg/TYL6Qg_w3QI/AAAAAAAABbg/rpUiz9IWIH4/s1600/HP-FaithBlocks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-yiZ2QSE2jfg/TYL6Qg_w3QI/AAAAAAAABbg/rpUiz9IWIH4/s320/HP-FaithBlocks.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;With faith nothing is impossible&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-3249631837725138575?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Phnl0ydZMAmzL0O-WD2GdW7NeWE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Phnl0ydZMAmzL0O-WD2GdW7NeWE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Phnl0ydZMAmzL0O-WD2GdW7NeWE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Phnl0ydZMAmzL0O-WD2GdW7NeWE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/_tf21Jd4J58" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/3249631837725138575/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=3249631837725138575&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/3249631837725138575?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/3249631837725138575?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/_tf21Jd4J58/matter-of-faith-from-childs-perspective.html" title="A Matter of Faith - From a Child's Perspective" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-TgnVYzzO2JU/TYL6GpltM9I/AAAAAAAABbY/VxMLLpO0YDM/s72-c/7fb282be-bdd2-4010-8241-7e6eaa4ba1fe_Faith1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2011/03/matter-of-faith-from-childs-perspective.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUYERHs9fip7ImA9Wx9WGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-8569567071620920412</id><published>2011-01-23T23:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-25T14:31:45.566+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-25T14:31:45.566+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Phases of Life" /><title>Are you ready for the Rabbit Year?</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;This year, Chinese New Year comes a bit too fast. We've not really gotten over Christmas and it's time to eat, shop, spring-clean and put up a new deco again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Well, if you ran out of ideas or time to greet the Rabbit year, try this...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TT5sxvdZFaI/AAAAAAAABXs/5kcactm_0FY/s1600/Jan2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="451" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TT5sxvdZFaI/AAAAAAAABXs/5kcactm_0FY/s640/Jan2011.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-8569567071620920412?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/I_Bdah0cHiabpEu5UPppAMdAXxA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/I_Bdah0cHiabpEu5UPppAMdAXxA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/I_Bdah0cHiabpEu5UPppAMdAXxA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/I_Bdah0cHiabpEu5UPppAMdAXxA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/POEEv7uqiJI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/8569567071620920412/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=8569567071620920412&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/8569567071620920412?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/8569567071620920412?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/POEEv7uqiJI/are-you-ready-for-rabbit-year.html" title="Are you ready for the Rabbit Year?" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TT5sxvdZFaI/AAAAAAAABXs/5kcactm_0FY/s72-c/Jan2011.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2011/01/are-you-ready-for-rabbit-year.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QGRnk9eSp7ImA9Wx9WEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-6239521714355708984</id><published>2011-01-15T23:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-17T17:08:47.761+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-17T17:08:47.761+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Living" /><title>The Theory Behind an Argument</title><content type="html">I find this too interesting not to post about it. It was brought up by hubby during a discussion. He suddenly asked me why when 2 people argue over something, they have to raise their voices. My simple-mindedness told me that it's&amp;nbsp;associated&amp;nbsp;with our emotion - we laugh when we're happy, we cry when we're sad, and we raise our voice when we try to bring out a point.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TTQD7ke3YoI/AAAAAAAABVs/qHEcdeN5QNo/s1600/angermanage1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="267" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TTQD7ke3YoI/AAAAAAAABVs/qHEcdeN5QNo/s400/angermanage1.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
However, Hubby had something else in mind. He pointed out that people had to raise their voices in an argument because their hearts and minds are too far apart. The more disagreement they have, the further their hearts are away from each other. Thus, in order to get their message across such a long '&lt;i&gt;distance&lt;/i&gt;',&amp;nbsp;the louder the voices need to be raised.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, this explains why lovers hardly talk, they whisper. That's because their hearts are at the same page.&lt;br /&gt;
In fact, some couples hardly communicate. They just exchange eye contact to get the message across. That's because their minds and hearts are so close to each other that they didn't even need to say it out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ridiculous? Well, it's very logical, don't you think so? Now, the next time you are having an argument with someone, try to see things from his perspective, and let me know if eye contact works!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-6239521714355708984?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/S68lcv4yB87A_9Ku7DYwzm1E4as/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/S68lcv4yB87A_9Ku7DYwzm1E4as/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/S68lcv4yB87A_9Ku7DYwzm1E4as/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/S68lcv4yB87A_9Ku7DYwzm1E4as/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/volFDDKteUk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/6239521714355708984/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=6239521714355708984&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/6239521714355708984?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/6239521714355708984?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/volFDDKteUk/theory-behind-argument.html" title="The Theory Behind an Argument" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TTQD7ke3YoI/AAAAAAAABVs/qHEcdeN5QNo/s72-c/angermanage1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2011/01/theory-behind-argument.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08ASXs5fCp7ImA9Wx9QFkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-6031717459143243915</id><published>2010-12-26T23:34:00.074+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T14:17:28.524+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-30T14:17:28.524+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith" /><title>Feast of the Holy Family</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TRqEIx2_dkI/AAAAAAAABU0/1oieq7W95xk/s1600/holyfamilythumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TRqEIx2_dkI/AAAAAAAABU0/1oieq7W95xk/s320/holyfamilythumb.jpg" width="224" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Every year, the liturgical calendar celebrates the Feast of the Holy Family. It's a feast day that celebrates the family unit, using the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph as our model. Usually the feast falls on a Sunday after Christmas. When a Sunday does not occur between Dec 25 and January 1, this feast is celebrated on December 30 with one reading before the Gospel.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TRwbj6ffUwI/AAAAAAAABU4/y4L4k07nmUE/s1600/150px-Albrecht_D%25C3%25BCrer_022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TRwbj6ffUwI/AAAAAAAABU4/y4L4k07nmUE/s320/150px-Albrecht_D%25C3%25BCrer_022.jpg" width="212" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I always find that this is a very meaningful celebration because they model for us a family life not beyond search but one that is very real and built on caring for each other. Jesus, Mary and Joseph have had a good share of problems even on the days before Jesus was born. To start off with, Mary was found pregnant before she was married. Despite that, she needed to travel quite a distance, running away from enemies to keep her child safe.&amp;nbsp;Luckily Joseph was by her side, protecting them. To me, this would be a nightmare - what a way to start a family. When I was pregnant, I have the comfort of my home to rest more, and the baby got to listen to soothing music as a form of relaxation. But Jesus was constantly on the go, and I'm sure he could feel his mother's worries and anxieties. I was lucky to have the assistance of the nurses and doctor during&amp;nbsp;labor, not to mention my whole family was by my side either physically or in prayers (hubby's the middle man exchanging sms with all of them, updating them on my progress), but what about Mary? She didn't even have a room to give birth in, and ended up sharing with the horses.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, despite all that, they survived and still able to live happily. Would I be able to do the same given the same situation? Even now, I couldn't stop myself from complaining about those little things that bother me. Every year this time, I look forward to the readings that reminded the wives to be respectful to the husbands, the husbands to love and cherish the wives, the children to be&amp;nbsp;obedient to the parents and the parents to be protective and caring towards the children. But this year, I&amp;nbsp;was especially enlightened by the sermon given by the new parish priest back in my dad's hometown. He happens to be the the same priest that solemnized my matrimonial service 6 years ago. Perhaps it's a wake up call for me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Monsignor pointed out that in our modern family, the roles of family members have been replaced by schools, hospitals and nursing home. Sad but true, we send our children to daycare because we need to work. We push sick family members to the hospitals - the longer they stay the better it is, because they would get 'better' treatment from the&amp;nbsp;professionals. And when our parents were old, we send them to nursing home (just because they send us to daycare when they &lt;i&gt;have&lt;/i&gt; to work last time, so now it's our &lt;i&gt;turn&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;to work, right?).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He also highlighted the proposed 5P's to strengthen family life. I wouldn't touch on them here, except for the 2nd P's - Priority which got my special attention.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"&gt;2) Priority: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;Our husband / wire relationship comes first before children/parents &amp;amp; in-laws. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt;Family first before work, friends or leisure. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"&gt;We need to make a priority as a family not only to pray but eat and play together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This actually consist of 3 main things: -&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
i. All this while, I've put too much focus on my children until I neglected my husband. To me, he's big (and old) enough to handle his own things, or sort out his problems. I already have my hands full with the kids, and hardly time for myself,&amp;nbsp;so how can I afford to spend more time on him? Well, maybe that explains all the many miscommunication that we had all this while - because I just didn't care enough. Monsignor pointed out that when husband &amp;amp; wife are in sync, everything will fall in place naturally - the kids, parents, in-laws. Which I couldn't agree more with.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
ii. The other thing that I wanted to comment here was on the 2nd sentence -&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"&gt; &lt;i&gt;priority between family, work, friends, leisure.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Easily said and understood - many of us know that. Family first. But I couldn't help noticing that many people, especially the youngster nowadays would prefer to hang around with their friends on the eve of a special event - Christmas, New Year, etc... to count down and chill out. Doesn't this show who's our priority in life?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
iii. The phrase that "&lt;i&gt;The family that prays together, stays together&lt;/i&gt;" no longer work now, according to Monsignor. Instead, it has become, "&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;The family that eats together, stays together&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;". So he encouraged all of us to eat together with our family members at least once a month.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hope this sharing will trigger new insight to you as it has to me. I wish you all a very Happy New Year, and may the dawn of 2011 brings you closer to your family, and lives the life that you've always dreamt of. Till then, I'll end this with a little prayer that was shared with us -&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;O God of goodness and mercy,&lt;br /&gt;
to your fatherly guidance&lt;br /&gt;
we commend our family,&lt;br /&gt;
our home and all our belongings.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You are where our heart is,&lt;br /&gt;
our treasure beyond compare&lt;br /&gt;
holding our family together&lt;br /&gt;
and answering our earnest prayer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Glory be to the Father,&lt;br /&gt;
and to the Son,&lt;br /&gt;
and to the Holy Spirit. Amen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-6031717459143243915?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RYJhqMQoucMfCZrx79yy2-zSlSo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RYJhqMQoucMfCZrx79yy2-zSlSo/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RYJhqMQoucMfCZrx79yy2-zSlSo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RYJhqMQoucMfCZrx79yy2-zSlSo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/bdlQqJGiXaM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/6031717459143243915/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=6031717459143243915&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/6031717459143243915?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/6031717459143243915?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/bdlQqJGiXaM/feast-of-holy-family.html" title="Feast of the Holy Family" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TRqEIx2_dkI/AAAAAAAABU0/1oieq7W95xk/s72-c/holyfamilythumb.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2010/12/feast-of-holy-family.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQMQ3w_eyp7ImA9Wx9TFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-4514907368633236201</id><published>2010-11-25T00:46:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-25T00:49:42.243+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-25T00:49:42.243+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Digests" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Living" /><title>Outliers</title><content type="html">Have you ever met anyone who always got a fair share of life? Someone whom you admire, or even envy, for the many great achievements that came their way? Or those who always get the better half of things? And, have you ever wondered, how did they do it? What makes them become what they're now?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TO06-9RPAzI/AAAAAAAABSs/A5L79_yTK84/s1600/graph-2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="291" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TO06-9RPAzI/AAAAAAAABSs/A5L79_yTK84/s400/graph-2.gif" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
These are the things that were being discussed in Outliers, which was&amp;nbsp;written by&amp;nbsp;Malcolm Gladwell. He pointed out that many successful people today, got where they are now, not really because they're smart or have that special capabilities, but rather they were given the o&lt;i&gt;pportunities&lt;/i&gt;. In other words, they happened to be at the right place at the right time. &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Of course, to qualify one has to have a certain level of intelligence or skill, but beyond that, what makes a successful person an outlier, depends mostly on the &lt;b&gt;opportunities&lt;/b&gt; that were given to him, and&lt;i&gt; how well he made use of it&lt;/i&gt;. For one, the environment where he came from plays a very important part. If he's from a rich family, his parents could afford to send him for extra classes to further polish up his skills, and thus trained him into a professional. Or, if he's poor, but were given the opportunities to spend at least 10,000 hours of practice on a certain task that he's interested in, he could master that skill and excel from the rest. That's how Mozart, or even Bill Gates got to where they were today. Another example would be if he's born at the right time, he would have the opportunity to participate in the more interesting things in life. The example given were those born at the beginning of the year were normally selected to be the team player (e.g hockey), because the cutoff date was in Dec, so naturally those born earlier in the year had the advantage of having a bigger built, and hence perform better. Naturally, they would be sent for more trainings (where the 10,000 hours rule came in), and further perfect their skills. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Indirectly, all these point to a fact that success could be attributed by many factors combined, and interestingly, it can be linked to our backgrounds, our environments, and how we decided to position ourselves in them. That's why, this gives us a new hope too, because we can be outliers too (or grow our children to be one), after we understand all the factors needed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TO08Lt4rGcI/AAAAAAAABSw/9GARVSLHWL4/s1600/outliers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TO08Lt4rGcI/AAAAAAAABSw/9GARVSLHWL4/s400/outliers.jpg" width="310" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Source from&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.thewisdomjournal.com/Blog/book-review-outliers-the-story-of-success/"&gt;http://www.thewisdomjournal.com/Blog/book-review-outliers-the-story-of-success&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;Well, I have not finished reading the book yet, but after reading the synopsis from &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Outliers_(book)"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, I guess this basically summarized it all. It's also interesting to note that mostly&amp;nbsp;successful&amp;nbsp;people became what they were today because they have got help along the way. This reminds me about the story of the &lt;i&gt;tortoise on the lamp post&lt;/i&gt;, from my parish priest during one of his sermons. The tortoise didn't get to the lamp post on its own, rather, it happened to be at the right place, at the right time, where someone picked it up and placed it there. So, we have to be grateful to the people in our lives, because without them, we'll not be where we're now. Not all those who has work extra hard made it after all. If we didn't get help along the way, would we still be here today? It's something for us to ponder...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yes, indeed, as how Gladwell puts it: - No one, not rock stars, not professional athletes, not software billionaires, and not even geniuses - ever makes it alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-4514907368633236201?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SNbqDkb_kcQtq0BcGpndHQBaEfU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SNbqDkb_kcQtq0BcGpndHQBaEfU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SNbqDkb_kcQtq0BcGpndHQBaEfU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SNbqDkb_kcQtq0BcGpndHQBaEfU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/ujjPK_AirLY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/4514907368633236201/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=4514907368633236201&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/4514907368633236201?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/4514907368633236201?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/ujjPK_AirLY/outliers.html" title="Outliers" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TO06-9RPAzI/AAAAAAAABSs/A5L79_yTK84/s72-c/graph-2.gif" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2010/11/outliers.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUCQX05fSp7ImA9Wx5aFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-610570334928833468</id><published>2010-11-11T23:11:00.036+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T23:11:00.325+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-11T23:11:00.325+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Musing" /><title>How my girl nearly got me into trouble...</title><content type="html">Yesterday after back from school, SY informed me that her school will have a party. She started asking me if I know how to make sandwiches. I told her I don't know. Then she said, "Then we buy lor!" &lt;br /&gt;
I was thinking - wah this girl thought everything can be bought!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then she asked Hubby &lt;em&gt;if&lt;/em&gt; he knows how to make sandwiches. To my&amp;nbsp;surprise, hubby said yes. She was&amp;nbsp;so happy and&amp;nbsp;said, "Ok, so Daddy make sandwich".&lt;br /&gt;
The next question, "Daddy, do you know&amp;nbsp;that sandwiches are triangle in shape?"&lt;br /&gt;
Daddy laughed out loud and said,&amp;nbsp;"Yes".&lt;br /&gt;
Then she asked her Daddy what sandwiches is he going to make? Daddy answered Tuna. &lt;br /&gt;
Her next request, the sandwiches must be made in this order: - 1) peanut butter 2) tuna 3)butter&lt;br /&gt;
And she made Daddy repeat the sequences again to make sure he understood her&amp;nbsp;(LOL!).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TNukSh-4KkI/AAAAAAAABRo/KQM0KMpAyv8/s1600/My+Pictures.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="384" px="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TNukSh-4KkI/AAAAAAAABRo/KQM0KMpAyv8/s640/My+Pictures.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Will she&amp;nbsp;start requesting for&amp;nbsp;different designs if she know that all these are sandwiches too?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I thot she was done with me, but she turned to ask, "Mommy, do you know how to make&amp;nbsp;jelly?".&lt;br /&gt;
I said, "Yes".&lt;br /&gt;
She's very happy to hear that and&amp;nbsp;said, "Good, Daddy made sandwiches, and&amp;nbsp;Mommy made&amp;nbsp;jellies".&lt;br /&gt;
Next came this, "Mommy, can you make jellies in pink color and heart shape?"&lt;br /&gt;
And&amp;nbsp;SJ chipped in, "Mommy,&amp;nbsp;I want blue color jellies".&lt;br /&gt;
I was stunned, and told her I'm not sure how&amp;nbsp;to get&amp;nbsp;blue color.&amp;nbsp;Luckily she compromised and came out with&amp;nbsp;green instead. I was relieved, and&amp;nbsp;told them, should be no problem.&lt;br /&gt;
SY next ask SJ,&amp;nbsp;"What shape you want your jellies to be?"&amp;nbsp;Circle? Square?&lt;br /&gt;
SJ was angry and just said "No, I want green, green".&lt;br /&gt;
So&amp;nbsp;I explained to&amp;nbsp;SY&amp;nbsp;that SJ might not understand yet,&amp;nbsp;as she still haven't learn her shapes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I ask SY how much&amp;nbsp;food to prepare, or when is it, she told me&amp;nbsp;she&amp;nbsp;didn't know but she'll find out.&amp;nbsp;She mentioned something like Tuesday.&amp;nbsp;I thot it would be next month or maybe a few weeks later. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today, when I&amp;nbsp;dropped them at school,&amp;nbsp;SY's class teacher&amp;nbsp;asked me if SY has told me about their class party next&amp;nbsp;Tuesday.&amp;nbsp;Then&amp;nbsp;she went on to add that&amp;nbsp;SY&amp;nbsp;had volunteered her Mommy to make sandwiches! She asked me if I'm ok with that. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What else can I say?&amp;nbsp;What would you do when you're&amp;nbsp;in such a situation? Of couse I&amp;nbsp;said yes, so as not to&amp;nbsp;disappoint my girl.&amp;nbsp;Luckily I asked if it's ok to prepare tuna sandwishes, or must it be vegetarian. As it turned out,&amp;nbsp;her teacher replied that&amp;nbsp;it's better not to be so obvious (as it's a vegetarian school), but egg and cheese&amp;nbsp;are still acceptable.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There!&amp;nbsp;Now I have to&amp;nbsp;wake up earlier&amp;nbsp;next Tuesday, unless I can figure out a way to&amp;nbsp;keep them fresh if I make them the night before.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Uh... any&amp;nbsp;volunteers?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Maybe I should educate my girl not to volunteer things for me in the future before asking me first. Now she's only 5, and it's only sandwiches. I hope she won't volunteer me for harder task when she grows bigger next time...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-610570334928833468?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4TrA8kmbBhn_MQ8SrdEj5_q9ps8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4TrA8kmbBhn_MQ8SrdEj5_q9ps8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4TrA8kmbBhn_MQ8SrdEj5_q9ps8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4TrA8kmbBhn_MQ8SrdEj5_q9ps8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/svBWT3pDgUc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/610570334928833468/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=610570334928833468&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/610570334928833468?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/610570334928833468?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/svBWT3pDgUc/how-my-girl-nearly-got-me-into-trouble.html" title="How my girl nearly got me into trouble..." /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TNukSh-4KkI/AAAAAAAABRo/KQM0KMpAyv8/s72-c/My+Pictures.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2010/11/how-my-girl-nearly-got-me-into-trouble.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8GSXkyeCp7ImA9Wx5VGEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-5355587243385710280</id><published>2010-10-10T22:10:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-12T13:20:28.790+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-12T13:20:28.790+08:00</app:edited><title>Happy 1010-10</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TLPrmbmgDrI/AAAAAAAABOs/stOl7qm6UIU/s1600/P1040096.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TLPrmbmgDrI/AAAAAAAABOs/stOl7qm6UIU/s640/P1040096.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TLPv38Pcn3I/AAAAAAAABO0/uaUgi9MvZNQ/s1600/P1040120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TLPv38Pcn3I/AAAAAAAABO0/uaUgi9MvZNQ/s640/P1040120.JPG" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-5355587243385710280?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WEQM9rLSterkoBbwH71xlkPHT8c/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WEQM9rLSterkoBbwH71xlkPHT8c/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WEQM9rLSterkoBbwH71xlkPHT8c/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WEQM9rLSterkoBbwH71xlkPHT8c/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/SMciiYiRBuw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/5355587243385710280/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=5355587243385710280&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/5355587243385710280?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/5355587243385710280?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/SMciiYiRBuw/happy-1010-10.html" title="Happy 1010-10" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TLPrmbmgDrI/AAAAAAAABOs/stOl7qm6UIU/s72-c/P1040096.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2010/10/happy-1010-10.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEIMSHk4eSp7ImA9Wx5QGUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-2608690615966385870</id><published>2010-09-09T06:42:00.032+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T09:43:09.731+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-09T09:43:09.731+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Parenting" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><title>Lost!</title><content type="html">&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;I've read about parents who lost their child, sympathized&amp;nbsp;with them, but never thought that this could happen to me too.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;You see, I nearly lost SY last weekend. Hubby dropped both of us for her &lt;a href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2010/03/what-happened-next.html"&gt;speech&amp;nbsp;therapy&amp;nbsp;class&lt;/a&gt;, while he took MIL and SJ for a joyride (you see, it was his chinese birthday that day, and his mom has a strong believe that one shouldn't step into a hospital on his own birthday). SJ was crying and insisting that I took her along, so Hubby asked if I could handle two. I told him NO, despite him not feeling happy having to deal with a crying toddler.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;I took SY for her registration. She was attracted to the Raya&amp;nbsp;decoration at one corner, and I told her to wait for me there while I registered her. The deco corner was just beside me, you see, hence I never really bothered to keep turning my head to check on her. So you can guess how shocked I was when I turned to find her gone after I was done with the registration. In fact, I didn't even register her because I was told that she can go directly up to see her Speech Therapist! Imagine, in such a short second, she was gone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;Panicked, I scanned the whole area with my eyes, searching frantically for the familiar cheeky face, but met none. I then checked out the bakery because she used to ask me to buy bread for her. None. Then, I quickly ran to the lift which we normally took, because I thought she might have gone there when she couldn't see me. Halfway there, I turned back, as I realized that she wouldn't dare to take the lift on her own, so I went back to the registration counter area. I searched again, but couldn't find her. So I quickly make a phone call to Hubby to inform him, only to be scolded by him of my carelessness. He told me he'll come right away.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;I was contemplating whether to make a report to the security, asking them to help me make an announcement. Maybe SY would come to me when she heard it. But I didn't know how to go around that - I didn't see any security officer around. Just then I noticed the inquiry corner, which was just opposite the deco place. I asked the nurses there, if they had seen any small girl there. They gave me an equally lost look, after recovering from a stunned moment. So without waiting for an answer, I quickly dashed into the toilet nearby and shouted SY's name. At that time, I just did it as an impulse because I suddenly thought about stories from the forwarded emails that I received - where strangers kidnapped little girls and took them to the toilet, shaved their hair, etc, until no one could&amp;nbsp;recognize&amp;nbsp;them before transporting them out without causing any suspicion to the security. I shuddered at the thought of that (I was very sure that SY wouldn't go off by herself, because she never did while we're outside, the most was she would wander off a little bit, but be sure to stay around the area where I could see her).&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;The cleaner looked up when she heard my shout, but suddenly I heard a very familiar voice, "Yes?" It came from outside, so I quickly dashed out, and I saw that girl sitting happily on the seat there, watching Mr. Bean! My, how relieved I was then, and I kept asking her why she didn't inform me when she went to sit there. She told me that she saw Mr. Bean so she waited for me there. That TV area was just besides the deco area, and I guess I didn't really scan the seating area in detail as I was in a&amp;nbsp;panic. Furthermore, she's so short (her head just merely reached the top of the chair, so I won't be able to see her from behind). I tell you, I could never forget that 5min or so (or was it 10min?) ever.&amp;nbsp;Every time&amp;nbsp;I thought about that, even now, my heart felt like falling out, at the thought of &amp;nbsp;nearly losing my dear little girl. I quickly informed Hubby, and took her up for her class (I later learnt that it would be her last lesson too, as she completed her&amp;nbsp;assessment&amp;nbsp;with flying colors - she only mispronounced two cluster type words, but could be corrected immediately).&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TIg0OX3tL8I/AAAAAAAABFU/_ivccXunZaI/s1600/lost-and-found.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="324" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TIg0OX3tL8I/AAAAAAAABFU/_ivccXunZaI/s640/lost-and-found.jpg" width="640" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;Well, that's a near experience which I would never forget.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;"&gt;Little did I expect it would happen to me because I've always prided myself for being very careful, especially when it comes to my kids. Now, I could really feel for those parents who lost their child for a few days. Mine was just 5-10minutes but that experience was harrowing enough for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;"&gt;I'm so glad that I shouted her name, I should have done it the first thing but I felt silly because I could see the whole area very well, but not her.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;"&gt;Indeed, we should never take our child for granted, even though they're big enough to understand things.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-2608690615966385870?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LGkTIFRLNtZa3D71_BASMo-CkRo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LGkTIFRLNtZa3D71_BASMo-CkRo/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LGkTIFRLNtZa3D71_BASMo-CkRo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LGkTIFRLNtZa3D71_BASMo-CkRo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/3w7bsDBapak" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/2608690615966385870/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=2608690615966385870&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/2608690615966385870?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/2608690615966385870?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/3w7bsDBapak/lost.html" title="Lost!" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TIg0OX3tL8I/AAAAAAAABFU/_ivccXunZaI/s72-c/lost-and-found.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2010/09/lost.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UFQnc_fSp7ImA9Wx5RFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-5264404137753531657</id><published>2010-08-22T23:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-22T23:33:33.945+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-22T23:33:33.945+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="A Reason To Go On" /><title>Are you a quitter?</title><content type="html">This just comes at the right time for me - and I hope this will also give you the inspiration to go on...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;object height="385" width="640"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VkCFeNeqyHk&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xd0d0d0&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VkCFeNeqyHk&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xd0d0d0&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Have a blessed start to a great Monday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-5264404137753531657?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/19pvB-r1i09rxxr763uBsgtWKlE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/19pvB-r1i09rxxr763uBsgtWKlE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/19pvB-r1i09rxxr763uBsgtWKlE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/19pvB-r1i09rxxr763uBsgtWKlE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/hZ1Gt6ss2tA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/5264404137753531657/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=5264404137753531657&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/5264404137753531657?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/5264404137753531657?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/hZ1Gt6ss2tA/are-you-quitter.html" title="Are you a quitter?" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2010/08/are-you-quitter.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04DRXg9eCp7ImA9Wx5REk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-7035013834812971705</id><published>2010-08-16T23:21:00.016+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-19T17:26:14.660+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-19T17:26:14.660+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Parenting" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><title>The Perfect Husband</title><content type="html">What's your idea of a perfect husband? To me, I just want someone who'd be there for me when I needed him most. And now that we're raising our own family, I'd want him to be equally involved with the kids and housework too, since I'm also working full time like him. Sometimes I'm not sure if I expected too much, because most guys would not like this kind of task. But surprisingly many of my mommy friends have such loving husband who even cook for the whole family!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TGz2n9u5BRI/AAAAAAAAA6U/oXplgB-9spE/s1600/2574005432_b6c46edd8a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TGz2n9u5BRI/AAAAAAAAA6U/oXplgB-9spE/s400/2574005432_b6c46edd8a.jpg" width="311" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;My husband is the typical chinese 大男人，who normally leave all the domestic stuffs under my care.&amp;nbsp;Sometimes when I couldn't manage them all, especially with the kids demanding all my attention, he'll help out here and there, but that also depends on his mood. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, I don't know what happens today, for I suddenly see the perfect husband that I've been wishing for! He offered to fetch the kids home from school, so that I could go home earlier to prepare dinner for them. However, something delayed me at work so when I finally reached home, he's already home with the kids.&amp;nbsp;As&amp;nbsp;usual, SJ&amp;nbsp;was very clingy, and kept wanting&amp;nbsp;Mommy's nen nen.&amp;nbsp;That means I couldn't cook right away. After nursing her for&amp;nbsp;awhile, she's still&amp;nbsp;not in her good mood and wouldn't let me&amp;nbsp;go. Even when Daddy offered to bring them down to the&amp;nbsp;playground, she insisted that I&amp;nbsp;went along too.&amp;nbsp;Having no choice, I followed them all down.&amp;nbsp;Dinner would have to&amp;nbsp;wait,&amp;nbsp;that's for sure. But&amp;nbsp;before that, I quickly switched on the rice cooker so at least the rice would be ready.&amp;nbsp;I've boiled the&amp;nbsp;soup in the morning, still warm in the&amp;nbsp;thermal pot.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After we had a fun time at the playground, we&amp;nbsp;bribed them with lollipops to get them back home.&amp;nbsp;So by then, SJ's in a good mood already, and she could play by herself or with her Jie Jie. I quickly&amp;nbsp;prepared&amp;nbsp;one vegetable dish, and then hubby voluntered to cook another dish -&amp;nbsp;egg &amp;amp; bacon.&amp;nbsp;He hardly&amp;nbsp;cook ever since I married him, so I must thank&amp;nbsp;my lucky star. I quickly took that opportunity to bathe the kids and had a shower&amp;nbsp;myself. By the time we're ready, dinner's served.&amp;nbsp;Again, surprisingly&amp;nbsp;today, he served dinner :) On normal days, he'll expect me to serve everything and he'll just eat. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wouldn't have called this perfect if he didn't clean the dishes for me (evil me!) And yes, he cleaned everything for me, including the wok and rice cooker too without me even asking him so. I really don't know what got into him, but I'm very very happy, that's for sure! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, we managed to get the kids ready for bed earlier, after&amp;nbsp;spending some quality time with them. Normally,&amp;nbsp; I'd just quickly finished the housework, sometimes hubby'll help with SY's revision (which is not very often), and by the time I'm done, we'll chase them to bed. So I hardly read with them anymore, not to say play. This time, we get to do a lot of things with them. I even get to practise the piano with SY while hubby entertained SJ. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I couldn't stop wondering why, but hubby's been really nice by helping me to dry the clothes and collect the dry ones in too. I wouldn't mind doing the folding myself, considering he's been really really helpful today. That's my idea of a perfect husband. I wanted to record this down so that when I'm mad at him next time for not helping, at least after reading this post, I'd be reminded that&amp;nbsp;he had once been a perfect husband to me. So hopefully I won't be angry for long, haha. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, I silently thank God and quickly make a wish that this would continue on and on.... Life would be so much happier and less tiring....don't you think so too?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-7035013834812971705?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_g8MPu3-esX_nz4-EAmq1sCwA3E/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_g8MPu3-esX_nz4-EAmq1sCwA3E/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_g8MPu3-esX_nz4-EAmq1sCwA3E/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_g8MPu3-esX_nz4-EAmq1sCwA3E/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/V4NZQsrLbLY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/7035013834812971705/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=7035013834812971705&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/7035013834812971705?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/7035013834812971705?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/V4NZQsrLbLY/perfect-husband.html" title="The Perfect Husband" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/TGz2n9u5BRI/AAAAAAAAA6U/oXplgB-9spE/s72-c/2574005432_b6c46edd8a.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2010/08/perfect-husband.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0MMQ3s7fip7ImA9WxFaE08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-5414986939740872155</id><published>2010-07-17T06:26:00.017+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-17T07:04:42.506+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-17T07:04:42.506+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Review" /><title>Is it possible to reverse the aging process?</title><content type="html">I've always come across the terms &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;anti aging&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, but don't really know how it works.&amp;nbsp;Does it mean stopping the&amp;nbsp;process of aging, or actually reversing it?&amp;nbsp;If it's just merely stopping it, that means our age would be locked at&amp;nbsp;that&amp;nbsp;state (when we started the theraphy), but if we can reverse it, wouldn't that be wonderful?&amp;nbsp;Mothers and daughters would look&amp;nbsp;alike!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.bloggerwave.com/Bloggerwave/c/403/27120/0" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://www.bloggerwave.com:8080/Bloggerwave/uploadImages/719412972_1274113599711_oxis_video.jpg" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
While I was still wondering on this possibility, &lt;a href="http://www.bloggerwave.com/Bloggerwave/c/403/27120/1" rel="nofollow"&gt;Oxis&lt;/a&gt; has long patented this technology in counteracting the harmful effects of "oxidative stress".&amp;nbsp;Using their super antioxidant, Ergothioneine,&amp;nbsp;it could combat free radicals which were toxic to our body. How? One of the way is by conserving and maintaining the levels of other antioxidants such as Vitamin E, C and also glutathione. Not any penny stocks company can do this, want to know more? Check this out &lt;a href="http://www.bloggerwave.com/Bloggerwave/c/403/27120/2" rel="nofollow"&gt;Oxis on facebook&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;or follow this on &lt;a href="http://www.bloggerwave.com/Bloggerwave/c/403/27120/1" rel="nofollow"&gt;Oxis on Twitter &lt;/a&gt;to learn more. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.bloggerwave.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.bloggerwave.com/Bloggerwave/v/403/27120" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-5414986939740872155?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3TIEPkJ-APrqowJMCagK4WL2Apc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3TIEPkJ-APrqowJMCagK4WL2Apc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3TIEPkJ-APrqowJMCagK4WL2Apc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3TIEPkJ-APrqowJMCagK4WL2Apc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/WlZ1kz_sA3k" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/5414986939740872155/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=5414986939740872155&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/5414986939740872155?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/5414986939740872155?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/WlZ1kz_sA3k/is-it-possible-to-reverse-aging-process.html" title="Is it possible to reverse the aging process?" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2010/07/is-it-possible-to-reverse-aging-process.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0AHRXYycCp7ImA9WxFVGEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-1388811175032071782</id><published>2010-06-18T17:01:00.064+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T17:02:14.898+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-18T17:02:14.898+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Musing" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Phases of Life" /><title>Which Type of Friends are You?</title><content type="html">I've always treasured this thing called friendship, and I am very loyal to my friends. I'll go all out for&amp;nbsp;them, and I won't hurt or use them for anything. It's a surprise that I could&amp;nbsp;remember their birthdays&amp;nbsp;without needing&amp;nbsp;much effort on my part. Unfortunately, I didn't always get the same treatment in return, which made me think, is it because I'm a quiet person? Or someone that people used to take advantage of&amp;nbsp; - due to my weaker nature? Maybe when you give so much to someone, you'll expect something back in return. At least an acknowledgement that you're as important as that person is to you. I would be very hurt when my friends betray me, or didn't treat me as how I thought I deserved. Well, my perception on many of this slowly change, as I start to embrace reality... &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My recent new venture into a field which I'm not familiar with woke me up. It's a dangerous game which I'm going into, and it involves a lot of people - something which I have never really get a good hands at, since I'm not really the sociable type. But I decided to give it a try, since&amp;nbsp;I see a future with it. However, this game that I just ventured into, made me realised a lot of things. Here, I would&amp;nbsp;only discuss one aspect of that,&amp;nbsp;which&amp;nbsp;is called &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;friends.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
First, I felt really blessed&amp;nbsp;to know that&amp;nbsp;I &lt;em&gt;DO really &lt;/em&gt;have VERY GOOD and TRUE friends out there, who'll go all out for me. This,&amp;nbsp;would be the friends that I'd keep with me because they actually went to check things out for me, and made sure that I won't get into any trap of any kind. Regardless whether they intend to join me or not, they actually put in extra effort to make sure that I'll be in good hands. You know who you are, girls&amp;nbsp;and I'm truly blessed to have you as my friends. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then,&amp;nbsp;I'm also&amp;nbsp;very fortunate to&amp;nbsp;have friends&amp;nbsp;who would give me 100% moral support, because they knew that I'm trying out something new for myself. Some&amp;nbsp;made it clear that they didn't want to be involved, some just played along, but I&amp;nbsp;do know that they're actually just giving me some moral support. And they even help me build the line! These friends are priceless, I couldn't thank them more. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Another category of friends are those that would not hurt me, they tend to beat around the bush by giving lots of excuses, but never dare to say no. They will continue to entertain, but I could sense that they do try to keep a distant if possible. Why? Because they're afraid that I'll drag them into this venture of mine as well. I would say, they're just sitting on the fence and watch the show from there. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And lastly, it's sad to note that most of the people whom I thought were my friends all this while, acted in ways that disappointed me a lot. These people tend to jump in when they see opportunities, but disappear right away when they thought the opportunities would benefit the other party more. There were also people who'd use&amp;nbsp;their friend&amp;nbsp;for their own interest. I'm thankful that I haven't come across unanswered phone calls, or people starting to walk away when they saw me approaching, but I do feel that if I'm persistant, I might get a cold shoulder from these category of people. But it doesn't hurt me an inch, because I'm well prepared for this. I knew what I'm plunging into, and I could accept this. It's just a matter of how I want to play this game further - and&amp;nbsp;understand human nature along the way. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, I might not find my answer in this new venture, but I would not regret it&amp;nbsp;at all because&amp;nbsp;of all the priceless experience that I'd gained. I knew that it's a matter on how I see&amp;nbsp;myself, my priorities, my family, and also about&amp;nbsp;people&amp;nbsp;around me. Also&amp;nbsp;it's purely from the sharing perspective that I'm including my friends in this, not so much on my personal gain. It's really a win-win situation, depending on how you would like to look at it. To me, even though if I decided to quit one day, I'd know that I've done that, been that and I'm so much more wiser now :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-1388811175032071782?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/E2KZ5yIJPjLOEd-1uuuNMw2rRdo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/E2KZ5yIJPjLOEd-1uuuNMw2rRdo/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/E2KZ5yIJPjLOEd-1uuuNMw2rRdo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/E2KZ5yIJPjLOEd-1uuuNMw2rRdo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/px7gQWjWN7Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/1388811175032071782/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=1388811175032071782&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/1388811175032071782?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/1388811175032071782?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/px7gQWjWN7Y/which-type-of-friends-are-you.html" title="Which Type of Friends are You?" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2010/06/which-type-of-friends-are-you.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04BQXY6eip7ImA9WxFVE04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-4686354136156353294</id><published>2010-06-12T16:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T16:39:10.812+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-12T16:39:10.812+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Phases of Life" /><title>Oh Why Do I Procrastinate?</title><content type="html">Sometimes, we knew we had to do 'something'&lt;br /&gt;
but always kept putting them off, &lt;br /&gt;
Either reschedule them to another time,&lt;br /&gt;
When we're not so busy, or not so tired, &lt;br /&gt;
With the hope of being able to continue &lt;br /&gt;
with what we've left off previously, &lt;br /&gt;
But little did we know, &lt;br /&gt;
if we continue to procrastinate, &lt;br /&gt;
we might end up not able to do that 'something' anymore!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Just last long weekend, my mom was asking me to drop&amp;nbsp;her off at her sister and brother's house up north for a visit, but because she saw how busy my schedule was, and was afraid that it would burden me &amp;amp; my&amp;nbsp;family (my kids&amp;nbsp;were not feeling too well then), she told me that it's ok.&amp;nbsp;She'll postpone the trip later. Furthermore, her legs were giving her problems so she thought of resting first before making that visit. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, just this morning,&amp;nbsp;my mom&amp;nbsp;got a call saying that my dear auntie has passed away. I felt a sharp knife just went thru my heart.&amp;nbsp;Oh why did I procrastinate? Why didn't I insist to bring them over last time? Why do I gave in to my hectic schedule and priorities then? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why, so many whys... and yet I couldn't turn the clock back. I felt&amp;nbsp;really miserable now.... Ah,&amp;nbsp;if only I didn't procrastinate.&amp;nbsp;It's time&amp;nbsp;for me to revisit my priorities in life - because time and tide wait for no man. I silently offered&amp;nbsp;up my prayers and blessings for my eldest Aunty, may she find grace with God, and rest in peace always.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-4686354136156353294?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AsrzkLpoQdIuV7AsWh9gBB9J_Ns/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AsrzkLpoQdIuV7AsWh9gBB9J_Ns/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AsrzkLpoQdIuV7AsWh9gBB9J_Ns/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AsrzkLpoQdIuV7AsWh9gBB9J_Ns/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/1bIjFRtGsjs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/4686354136156353294/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=4686354136156353294&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/4686354136156353294?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/4686354136156353294?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/1bIjFRtGsjs/oh-why-do-i-procrastinate.html" title="Oh Why Do I Procrastinate?" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2010/06/oh-why-do-i-procrastinate.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEENR3k5cSp7ImA9WxFQEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6830348039036448881.post-3885636330128398282</id><published>2010-05-05T03:48:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T03:51:36.729+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-05T03:51:36.729+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Living" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Musing" /><title>Life's Lesson from being a Mother</title><content type="html">It's going to be my 4.5 years of being a mother, and a mother of 2 I'd be!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What have I learnt so far? Pricelss!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I learnt that being a mother, &lt;br /&gt;
I needed skills not only to handle the kids, &lt;br /&gt;
but also how to do the house chores at the same time,&lt;br /&gt;
regardless of whether I’m healthy or sick. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I also learnt, that being a mother,&lt;br /&gt;
I need a loaf of&amp;nbsp;tactful skills,&lt;br /&gt;
and a bucketful of patience,&lt;br /&gt;
On how to handle the crowd,&lt;br /&gt;
that comes with the binding agreement called marriage, &lt;br /&gt;
without making things worse.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Being a mother does not necessarily mean&lt;br /&gt;
You'll have the kids all for yourself, &lt;br /&gt;
or you'd get to decide what's best for your child, &lt;br /&gt;
All the time. &lt;br /&gt;
Rather, you need to be prepared &lt;br /&gt;
to let go and let the other party handle it, &lt;br /&gt;
especially when someone's trying to take charge. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Being a mother also means, &lt;br /&gt;
You'll burn more midnight oil, &lt;br /&gt;
Worrying about tiny details,&lt;br /&gt;
That no one finds worth cracking the head for, &lt;br /&gt;
Or planning for things,&lt;br /&gt;
No one ever foresee coming. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And the painful moment will come, &lt;br /&gt;
When your child starts to shout at you&lt;br /&gt;
In their teenage rebellion&lt;br /&gt;
When they fail to see&lt;br /&gt;
The things that you could long foresee&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But despite all that, &lt;br /&gt;
you'll know deep down inside, &lt;br /&gt;
that it's a price you're paying&lt;br /&gt;
for being a mother, &lt;br /&gt;
and yet, you wouldn't trade it away&lt;br /&gt;
with anything ever&lt;br /&gt;
just to catch those glimpse in their eyes&lt;br /&gt;
The eyes that you've watched to grow&lt;br /&gt;
ever since they were in your womb. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Ah, what would you know if you've never threaded that path&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;But it's a wonder why some mothers were so hard to please &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;They'd rather trade their child’s happiness out of jealousy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Or the tricks they did to get more $$ out of their child, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Not to mention teaching your child to go against you, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Lord, why is it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;There’re such mothers out there?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Sigh, the world's not perfect, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Nor are mothers, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;But what matters most, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Is when they're giving their best&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;regardless of what others think,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;even if it goes unappreciated. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Then why am I so helpless &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;In trying to be the perfect mother?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;In such an imperfect world? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;When no one understands you, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;But complains that &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Nagging’s what you do all day!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;God please grant me the strength and patience&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;to endure all this&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;so that I'll finally see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;the silver linings behind the cloud!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/S-B4NwyVt4I/AAAAAAAAAwc/23zVOPvcK7s/s1600/mothernchild.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/S-B4NwyVt4I/AAAAAAAAAwc/23zVOPvcK7s/s400/mothernchild.jpg" tt="true" width="271" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Photo credits: billarnold.typepad.com&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6830348039036448881-3885636330128398282?l=a-blog-away.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8WYmBesqHoTHMJsRgdYO-ZQFHOc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8WYmBesqHoTHMJsRgdYO-ZQFHOc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8WYmBesqHoTHMJsRgdYO-ZQFHOc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8WYmBesqHoTHMJsRgdYO-ZQFHOc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~4/eyvUYtVKcpo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/feeds/3885636330128398282/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6830348039036448881&amp;postID=3885636330128398282&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/3885636330128398282?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6830348039036448881/posts/default/3885636330128398282?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifesLittleThings/~3/eyvUYtVKcpo/lifes-lesson-from-being-mother.html" title="Life's Lesson from being a Mother" /><author><name>ablogaway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11288185613444088502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rwK8so9p_JE/S-B4NwyVt4I/AAAAAAAAAwc/23zVOPvcK7s/s72-c/mothernchild.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://a-blog-away.blogspot.com/2010/05/lifes-lesson-from-being-mother.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

