Hooked on Classics

In honour of Andre's upcoming music exam, here's a post on classical music.

Many kids find classical music unpalatable, especially if they're hearing it for the first time. It's not instantly accessible like pop music. But classical music has wonderful benefits, one of them being it develops the mind. So if you want to expose your kids to classical music but their level of resistance is similar to that for green vegetables, I have three words for you: Hooked on Classics.

In 1981, the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra recorded a very ingenious album which basically blended seamlessly together a series of highly recognisable tunes from classical music works, set to a distinctive pop beat. The recording was conducted by Louis Clark, former arranger for the Electric Light Orchestra.

The first cut of the album was so popular it actually reached No. 2 on the UK singles chart and No. 10 on the Billboard Hot 100 in 1981 and 1982. No mean feat considering these are pop music charts! The popularity of the album led to the release of two more Hooked on Classics albums in 1982 and 1983, followed by numerous spin-offs like Hooked on Swing.












Technically, they are not classical music albums because the beat is completely pop and they're too kitsch for true classical music fans. But in this respect, I'm no purist - I feel they are perfect for getting kids interested in classical music because the music is infectious and easy to catch on. It opens them to the possibility that classical music can be quite enjoyable, and that's half the battle won. I remember the albums paving my foray into classical music and Kenneth's too.

Recently, I downloaded the albums onto Lesley-Anne's handphone and she's... well, hooked. She has other pop music in there but she's addicted to Hooked on Classics. The best part is, the albums provide an entire list of the works that were extracted from, so they spark curiosity as to what the original pieces sound like. Lesley-Anne, after listening repeatedly to one of the tracks - Hooked on Tchaikovsky - said she wants to listen to the entire Swan Lake ballet suite.

Just as an example, the first track on the first album contains the following works:

Piano Concerto No 1 In B Flat Minor Op 23 / Tchaikovsky
Flight Of The Bumble Bee / Rimsky-Korsakov
Symphony No 40 In G Minor / Mozart
Rhapsody In Blue / Gershwin
Karelia Suite Op 11 / Sibelius
Symphony No 5 In C Minor Op 67 / Beethoven
Toccata In D Minor / JS Bach
Serenade No 13 In G Major - 'Eine Kleine Nachtmusik' / Mozart
Symphony No 9 In D Minor Op 125 / Beethoven
Overture To William Tell / Rossini
Le Nozze Di Figaro / Mozart
Romeo & Juliet Fantasy Overture / Tchaikovsky
Trumpet Voluntary / Clarke
Hallelujah Chorus / Handel
Piano Concerto In A Minor Op 16 / Grieg
March Of The Torreadors / Bizet
1812 Overture / Tchaikovsky

Some of the titles may not sound familiar, but I'm sure you'll be surprised at how many you can recognise. They've been used for anything from tv commercials to movie themes. You can hear it on this Youtube video (the sound isn't great though, remember, it's a 1981 recording!)

Rejecting gender stereotypes

I am a feminist. No, I don't burn bras and I don't hate men. Feminism has become sort of a dirty word, conjuring up images of brawny women who don't shave their armpits. Nothing could be further from the truth. What feminism is, is simply the belief that men and women should be treated equally (note: equal doesn't mean the same). This is a belief I've held for a long time, since I wrote my thesis on perspectives on equality for women way back in NUS, and I touched on my views briefly in this post.

I feel the need to write about this because it has great bearing on the way I bring up my kids. Don't get me wrong - I do recognise that there are inherent differences between men and women. Despite my determination to raise my kids as gender-neutral as possible, Lesley-Anne is as delicate and fastidious as the next girl and Andre naturally gravitates towards toy cars and soldiers. Nevertheless, gender differences tend to be magnified, so that men and women are often compared to as coming from different planets. In reality, men and women have more similarities than differences, as a human race.

An MCP friend of mine once argued, "It's like an apple and a pear! Men and women are not the same!" My retort was that an apple and a pear are both fruit - they have more in common than they are different.

The problem is that society plays up gender differences (even imagined ones) from the cradle. At the hospital, relatives coo over the new male baby "oh, he's so handsome!" and female infant "oh, she's so pretty!" when in reality, the only way they can tell the gender of that wrinkled bundle is from the colour of the swaddling blanket.

From a very young age, children understand the way they are expected to act in relation to their gender. When boys get into scrapes, they're often told, "Don't cry, you're a boy. Don't be a sissy." Girls hear "Why are you so dirty and untidy? You should be more ladylike." These gender stereotypes are reinforced if their parents have traditional roles, ie dad goes out to work, mum stays home to cook, clean and look after kids.

Once again, there is nothing wrong with these roles, but what I'm saying is that contrary to popular belief, many gender traits not inborn - they are learned. From examining the world around them, kids form their worldview and believe that this is the natural order of the universe. Which may not be a problem if the kids are able to accept these stereotypes in their own lives but the minute they encounter something contrary to what they have internalised, the inevitable angst will set it.

A boy who grows up thinking he should be tough and like tough guy stuff like sports is more likely to hide or smother his passion for music and theatre, for instance, or risk facing the wrath of his parents and ridicule of his peers. A girl who has Wall Street ambitions may feel they are unrealistic as her sole purpose in life as a woman is to be a good wife and mother.

In both scenarios, you will have unhappy children who are more likely to grow up to be unfulfilled adults because they have conformed to societal norms against their hearts' callings. Worst case, they will feel that there is something inherently wrong with them because they are not able to embrace their roles like other "normal" people.

Gender stereotypes have real consequences. Women have struggled with issues of a glass ceiling, menial labour and unequal pay for decades. Men have not had it easy either, mostly with having to live up to expectations of what constitutes being a "man". Like this phrase, "but if I let my son play with dolls, he will grow up gay!" My personal view is that if that's his inclination, forbidding him to play with dolls will not prevent it from coming true. All you'll end up with is one in the closet or worse, one that pretends to be otherwise and lives a lie as an unsatisfactory husband and father (there are many of these out there). If he doesn't have the inclination in the first place, playing with 10 Barbies will not "turn" him. What is more likely to be true is that if you fill your son with all that macho BS, he'll probably grow up to be a jerk.

Whether you have a son or a daughter, both will benefit from a loving family that teaches responsibility, honesty, independence and respect for others. These cut across gender issues. As far as possible, I try to instil in my kids that they can be anything they want to be (unless like in the Baby Blues comic, they want to be giant carnivorous lizards) - they should not be hampered by myopic gender roles narrowly defined by society. In this day and age, I still hear comments like, "it's not so important for her to be smart, she's a girl." Hang on a minute as I throw this Barbie doll at you.

It's difficult because we're still living in the backdrop of an Asian patriarchal society, although mindsets are slowly changing. So even though I try to imbibe gender equality in my kids, it's an uphill battle. Last year, Andre told me one of the girls in his class played soccer with him and a group of boys. Instead of therefore acknowledging that girls can play soccer too, as I'd hoped, he said, "she's not really a girl." (It was meant to be a compliment.) We may laugh but when you think about it, we adults are guilty of this as well. If we see someone not behaving according to our ideas of what men and women should do, do we consider the possibility that our perception might be wrong or do we dismiss that person as perhaps possessing some "faulty" biological wiring?

It's a philosophy worth fighting for and I will continue to treat both my son and my daughter equally. They have the right to equal opportunities to pursue their dreams - Andre shouldn't get priority over Lesley-Anne just by the mere fact that he's a boy... nor vice versa. And that's what being a feminist means.

If music is a universal language, why do we need to study Italian terms?

In less than a week, Andre will be sitting for his Grade 2 theory exam for piano. For the most part, he's ready... except for them dastardly Italian terms. For those not in the know, since Western classical music was mostly composed in Italian centuries ago, the expressions for describing how the music should be played are usually in Italian (or French or German, but in the lower grades, you only need to learn Italian terms). Which might not be a problem for ang moh kids but for a little Hokkien boy in Singapore, it might as well be Greek.

Taking theory exams growing up, I never liked learning the Italian terms but I don't remember having quite so much difficulty. Lesley-Anne too, managed reasonably well. But Andre just can't seem to wrap his mind around them. Part of the problem is that his English is shaky to begin with. Take these Italian terms and their meanings:

Maestoso - Majestically
Brio - Vigour
Sostenuto - Sustained

Andre hasn't the faintest idea what the English words mean, let alone the Italian ones. So when he's learning the terms, he actually has to memorise BOTH the Italian terms and their accompanying meanings in English. Which really defeats the purpose, in my opinion. Imagine if he comes across a piece of music which states Maestoso, he won't have the slightest clue how to play that piece majestically, even if he remembers that's what it means. (Now, if Mozart and Beethoven both spoke Singlish, things would've been so much less complicated - "Don't so hurry lah!")

Take these three terms, for example: Allargando, Allegretto, Accelerando. They mean "broadening out", "lively, fast" and "getting faster" respectively. To Andre, they're all long words that start with the letter 'A'. Unpronounceable and indistinguishable. As with Rallentando, Ritardando and Ritenuto. (Actually, you should hear him try to say the Italian, it's like a hysterical mix of Japanese and Tamil. His "Allegretto" sounds suspiciously like "Arigato". The Italians would have a fit.)

That's not the end of it. His teacher has written out all the Italian terms he has to know and even as we're struggling with those, I compared them with those in Lesley-Anne's old theory book and found at least a dozen other words that are not on the list. A quick check with the teacher revealed that he only provided the ones that are often tested - he didn't give the full list because Andre couldn't even remember the more common ones.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. When all else fails, resort to exam skills (we're not Singaporeans for nothing!) I've told Andre that if the exam paper throws up an Italian term he's not familiar with, look at the piece of music. If it has many minims and crotchets (long notes), write "slow". If it has many quavers and semi-quavers (short notes), write "fast". At least he'll have a slim chance of getting it right.

Fine. (The end).

The responsibilities of a blogging mum

There’s something very ego-boosting about having your own blog and knowing that you have readers. It’s like publishing your own little newspaper. But with publishing comes responsibility. Unlike a newspaper, anyone can start their own blog, so the difference is that with blogging, the responsibility lies with us.

I'm not talking about the responsibility to be politically correct. Blogging provides a relatively open platform for freedom of speech (of course in Singapore, there's still a limit but generally, you can say what you want). I'm talking about two main types of responsibility - responsibility to readers and as a blogging mum, responsibility to our kids.

The written word is very powerful. When something appears on print, its legitimacy is immediately heightened. You know I have many (opinionated) views on parenting and the education system. I've shared many of these with my friends for years but once I started blogging about them, it seemed like my views suddenly held more weight and more authority. Many mothers blog. Some blog purely about what their kids are doing, as a sort of journal, others zoom in on specific issues like maths or child-rearing methods. Mine is a rojak mix of everything. Where I sometimes feel the need to pause before I say something is in those commentary-type posts, where I state my viewpoint on an issue. Will this statement trigger an undesirable outcome? Will it make another mother feel less secure about herself? It's not about whether others agree with me, we can agree to disagree. It's about whether it helps or hinders someone else in her own parenting journey.

I read somewhere that a blog is not a book, it is a broadcast. The minute you stop writing, people stop reading, so the blogger is under some pressure to keep writing. Subconsciously now, I'm always on the look out for blogging opportunities. In doing so, I have to remember that I have a big responsibility to my kids when blogging. When you're writing not about fictitious people but your own kids, what you say has a real impact on them. Especially if your kids read your blog, like mine. It's like a window into their mother's thoughts - they can see themselves from my eyes. So sometimes, I have to be censor what I say because I need to protect their self-esteem and their privacy.

This is not to say that I will only write about their strengths and not their faults. In my opinion, blogs that only gush about how perfect their kids are, are boring and artificial. What I'm saying is that different kids have different sensitive points. When Lesley-Anne saw me taking a photo of her worn-out school shoes, she immediately panicked and screeched, "Why must you blog about that? It's so embarrassing! They will laugh at me!" Of course she didn't trust that I wouldn't openly embarrass her, when she saw the eventual post, she realised there was nothing incriminating in it. Whereas Andre, when he heard his sister's outburst, sidled up to me and said conspiratorially, "Mummy, you can blog about me, I don't mind."

So, mothers, blog away! But take the cue from your kids, whether they're shrinking violets or attention seekers, and adjust your words and volume accordingly.

Lesley-Anne's meticulous art

Unfortunately, I don't seem to have Lesley-Anne's early drawings. I remember she doodled quite a bit, but what did I do with them??

Lesley-Anne has always loved art. When she was much younger, she would make cards and pictures as gifts. Unlike Andre, she pays attention to details. Like a flower can't be just a flower, it must be a specific type of flower. When she draws, it tends to be small, detailed items with lots of blank space. She also bothers to colour her pictures (Andre finds colouring a waste of time).

Because of her interest, we used to bring her to drawing and colouring competitions. This is one that she did for a drawing competition held at our estate when she was 6. She was supposed to depict our estate. She took it literally - only our estate, no people! I remembered asking her why the building was so small and the butterfly so big. She explained, "the building is far away lah." Oh I see... perspective. She got third prize for it (granted the competition wasn't very stiff lah). The colours are a lot more vibrant in real life than my sucky camera could show.


This one was for the HSBC art competition the following year. The participants had to draw what they wanted to be when they grew up. She didn't win anything but it was quite fun and I thought it was very nice of HSBC to make miniature copies of the drawings for the kids to take home. Here is the picture. Lesley-Anne drew herself as a zookeeper and in the corner, she's feeding a crocodile with very large teeth. Notice how she allocated a large space to the snake enclosure - for some strange reason, that was her favourite animal exhibit at the zoo back then.


This next one she drew for me a couple of years ago and I love the thought behind it. If you can't read it, the title is "Uses for a Hedgehog" and there are four. The first picture shows a hedgehog being used as a holder for candied apples, the second is a quill as a needle (with the words "Hey! I'm missing a spine!" and "Note: Don't take the spine out of a hedgehog who counts its spines at night"). The third is as a pen and the words "Again, don't take it from a hedgehog who counts its spines". Fourth is a hedgehog breaking the world record for jumping and a speech bubble which says "He did it. He jumped over a block of flats."

Finally, this one on the right is part of a project she's doing now for school. She's supposed to sketch wetland creatures. Each creature has to be drawn in two ways - gesture, ie shaded to show the texture and flat style, ie clean lines to show details. I think her kingfisher drawings are still in progress.

Andre's functional art

Lilian requested for posts on scribble games, but I couldn't find any. I think we dumped them when we'd finished playing. So instead, I dug around for some of the drawings my kids have done. This post is on Andre's work, I will post Lesley-Anne's tomorrow.

This is the earliest "drawing" I have of Andre's. It was done when he was three and it's supposed to be a picture of mummy and daddy.

I don't know which is supposed to be me (I hope it's not the long faced one!) I also don't know why we're not smiling. I think he could only manage circles and straight lines then, he found it hard to manipulate the pencil to draw more complex shapes. But one thing I noticed about Andre's drawings is that he tends to draw big pictures that fill up the paper. That's still his style now.

His drawings are also what I call functional, ie he zooms in on the important stuff. His people tend to be stick figures because he can't be bothered with filling in the details. His focus is on the story that the picture is telling, aesthetics are a mere accessory. Like this one where he had to draw his favourite Olympic sport. No prizes for guessing what sport he chose! (He spent more time drawing the court and the net than the people... hey, they're playing doubles!)

Below is a recent drawing he did. I don't know what is it about kids that they must have the mandatory sun, clouds and birds when creating an outdoor scene. Anyway, this is a city drawing with traffic, skyscrapers... and giant birds. Sorry it's so faint, if you can't see the words, there's "Beap!" "Move!" and "I am trying!" Looks like there's a traffic jam.

Watch out! McDonaldisation in progress

The Straits Times yesterday reported that fast food chains are expanding in Singapore, in light of the recession. This is in line with trends in the West - in bad economic times, fast food popularity surges because the food is cheap compared to restaurants.

I see this is bad news all around, except for the fast food companies. Most parents have this vague notion that fast food is unhealthy, but apart from it containing lots of fat, that's it. I mean, chicken rice and char guay teow are also extremely fattening, right? So what's the big deal? Well, let me introduce you to the evil empire that is fast food.

First, let me qualify that my reference to fast food is mostly burger joints, not the quick serve pasta or Japanese fast food places. In particular, I'm refering to McDonald's, the king of fast food. No need for me to go into the fat content in fast food - I guess you know already that it's high, especially in trans fats. I'll give you some other nuggets (haha!) of information.

Have you ever wondered why the McDonald's fries taste so good? It's because of their unique beef taste. Before 1990, McDonald's fries were fried in beef tallow which made them contain more beef fat than a hamburger. Following criticism over the cholesterol in the fries, McDonald's switched to vegetable oil but they also added an artificial beef flavour made entirely from chemicals to replicate the taste.

The worst thing you can order at McDonald's though, has to be chicken McNuggets. They're popular because they're easy to chew and appear to be healthier than other items since they're made of chicken. Well, get this. Researchers found that McNuggets too contain more fat per ounce than a hamburger. The same "beef flavour" added to fries is added to McNuggets to give them the yummy aroma. But the worst part is this: according to the 2004 documentary Super Size Me, McNuggets are made from mashed up parts of genetically modified chicken with unusually large breasts. These chickens are stripped down to the bone, and then "ground up in to a chicken mash then combined with a variety of stabilizers and preservatives, pressed into familiar shapes, breaded and deep fried, freeze dried, and then shipped to a McDonald's near you." If you read the raw ingredients listing on the wholesale packaging of McNuggets, chicken breast accounts for less than 50% of the product.

If you've never watched Super Size Me, I recommend you do. It will scare the living daylights out of you. You can watch the video here. As part of a social experiment, independent filmmaker Morgan Spurlock ate exclusively McDonald's food for a month, super sizing his meal every time he was asked. Before the experiment started, he consulted three doctors, a nutritionist and personal trainer. All of them said the experiment would have some impact of the body but thought it wouldn't be too drastic as the human body was very adaptable.

After five days, Spurlock gained 4.5kg and reported feeling depressed and lethargic, which he said was relieved by a McDonald's meal. One doctor described him as "addicted". Three weeks in, Spurlock experienced heart palpitations, at which point his doctors started expressing concern over his health. By the end of the experiment, Spurlock had gained over 11kg and sustained IRREVERSIBLE LIVER DAMAGE. In just one month. All three doctors were surprised at the degree of deterioration in Spurlock's health. Fast food companies have slammed his experiment saying that hardly anyone eats McDonald's three meals a day, everyday. In his own defence, Spurlock theorised that his diet is typical of the amount of fast food an average American would eat over eight years.

Spurlock also took issue with the way McDonald's targets young children with ads. McDonald's spends approximately US$1.4 billion annually on advertising, most of which is directed at young kids. This view is mirrored in the book Fast Food Nation by Eric Schlosser, an investigative journalist. In the book, Schlosser states that the Golden Arches are more widely recognised as a symbol by American children than the Christian cross, and Ronald McDonald more than Jesus. In Australia, a survey showed that Ronald McDonald is viewed by half the country's 9 and 10 year-olds as the ultimate authority on what they should eat. As Spurlock says, if you look closely, Ronald McDonald is not wearing a smile, he's wearing a smirk.

McDonald's operates more playgrounds than any other private entity in the US, and the fast food industry competes for marketing partnerships with toy companies, sports leagues and Hollywood studios - all to entice children, parents and grandparents to their outlets. It is insidious, it is calculated, it is deliberate. It strives to create that feel-good factor among young kids whose food preferences are still forming, so that they associate happiness with a meal at McDonald's. An experiment showed that when kids were given two lots of identical fries but one presented in a McDonald's wrapper and the other in a plain wrapper, all the kids said the McDonald's one tasted better. Ray Kroc, the founder of McDonald's has been quoted as saying, "A child who loves our TV commercials and brings her grandparents to a McDonald's gives us two more customers."

The fast food industry is a multi-billion dollar one. It is so large and powerful that it influences whole sectors of the economy. It lobbies for fast food to be sold in US schools, for a relaxation in food safety testing by the FDA. It hires people on the lowest rungs of the workforce - migrant workers, the uneducated, teenagers, the elderly, which makes it appear magnanimous because it provides employment. But really, the motivation is purely monetary. It gets cheap labour, often at minimum wage, and in the US, the employees at the slaughterhouses for the fast food industry are working in what Schlosser describes as the "most dangerous job". They get no benefits and serious injuries are rife. Injuries often don't get reported, injured workers get their pay cut and are shipped out as fast as the next batch of workers can be brought in.

I'm not naive enough to propose that you abstain from fast food completely. God knows we too go to McDonald's once in a while, and Andre loves it. But moderation is the operative word. And I personally believe that moderation is once or twice a month at the most, not once or twice a week. If cost is the reason, there really is no excuse in Singapore because eating out is relatively cheap here. A bowl of wanton noodles and a drink at the coffee shop cost less than a McDonald's meal (and it's much healthier too). If it's because fast food has become comfort food, just remember that with every bite of that burger, you are endorsing a whole ideology that is not as sunshiney as Ronald would have you believe.

Teething troubles

A few of us mothers were discussing the issue of teeth and how to get our kids to visit the dentist without fear. Afterall the fear of dentists is one of the most prevalent phobias, right up there with the fear of public speaking.

I think in Singapore, the fear of dentists can be attributed largely to those very fierce female dentists at the Institute of Dental Health. I remember lying prone in the chair, bright spotlight blaring in my face and a very sharp implement in my mouth. All I could see was a face with a white mask over the mouth and eyes that narrowed with disapproval every time a cavity was found. This would be accompanied by an endless verbal onslaught of how carelessly I'd neglected to brush and floss, making me wish I just could spit out all the gunk and make a run for it (I probably would have if I wasn't so terrified and immobilised).

Going to the dentist during my childhood was a dreaded yearly ritual for me, so I was determined not to let my kids undergo the same ordeal. My current dentist is a super nice guy - he's soft-spoken, gentle and reassuring. Upon his advice, I would bring Lesley-Anne and Andre to him when I went for my checkup, just so they could get used to going to the dentist. They both started going when they were about 3 and he would chat with them, get them to open their mouths and take a look, maybe squirt some water to show that there was nothing to worry about.

But despite all that, Lesley-Anne still developed a fear of dentists. When she was 6, she had to have a little filling and I could see her clutching the side of her chair the whole time. I blame it squarely on the scary, ear-piercing drill. Come on, it sounds like it can penetrate your skull, hard to imagine what it's actually doing to a little piece of enamel!

Once your kids hit primary school, their basic dental problems are taken care of by the school's dental clinic and nurse. This is great news for me as they usually handle all the small stuff like extractions, polishing and minor fillings, so no need for private dental visits. Or so I thought. When Lesley-Anne had a shaky tooth and the permanent one impatiently on the way, we still had to bring her to our dentist, who sweet-talked her and slathered on strawberry flavoured anesthetic before gently extracting the culprit. That'll be $30, thank you.

Andre, on the other hand, surprised me. He has no such qualms about dentists. He didn't understand why all his friends feared the dental checkup and volunteered to go first. In p1, he had two shaky teeth and was whining about how difficult it was to chew his food. I made a passing comment that he should go to his school dentist to have them taken care of. That evening when he came home from school, I was startled when he handed me his two teeth in a little bag. It seems he had nonchalantly made a trip to the dental clinic at recess and said, "My two teeth are shaky, please pull them out for me." Whaaa...t?? Even Kenneth was impressed. Best part, it's free!

I'm resigned to my kids having a long-term relationship with the dentist. Both of them have large teeth and small mouths, never a good combination. Their teeth also seem to be free spirits, sprouting from wherever they feel like it, so braces are inevitable. Ah well, we've still got a few more years, so time to start saving up now.

Big feet, little feet

No, these were not the pair of shoes cast in Jack Neo's movie Home Run, in which the kids had to wear worn-out school shoes because their parents were too poor to buy them new ones.

These belong to Lesley-Anne - they're in this state because her parents were too cheap to buy new ones and were hoping that she could make them last her final year in primary school. Alas, this was not to be. It's like hoping your final remaining piece of wrapping paper will be enough to wrap that very last Christmas present. There's a phrase for it - I think it's called Fat Hope.

You might think we're terrible parents but I know for a fact that this is a very common practice. It's part and parcel of being kiam siap in Singapore. Some primary school kids are inadvertent casualties of this phenomenon - p1 kids drowning in super-sized uniforms (far-sighted parents in anticipation of growth spurts) and p6 kids in fashionably short and faded uniforms (parents reluctant to buy new ones with just a year to go). Lesley-Anne says her classmate keeps tripping over her own feet because she's wearing shoes two sizes too big. So clearly, pragmatism trumps dignity with Singaporean parents.

Actually, Lesley-Anne has had a pretty good record in getting our money's worth when it comes to school supplies. She generally makes one pair of school shoes last at least an entire year, and they usually need to be replaced only because she has outgrown them, not because the shoes are spoilt. Andre is a whole different story, wearing out five pairs of shoes in two years. When he comes home from school, his shoes are usually in an appalling condition - scruffy and dirty. His excuse? It's hard to keep your shoes clean while playing soccer at recess.

Likewise, I had to replace his school uniforms within a year as most of them had pen marks (permanent, of course!) To be fair, he also couldn't fit into them anymore. When the year started, his school shorts were so loose that they sometimes fell off his hips when he ran. By the year's end, he had grown so tubby around the middle that he could barely button his shorts without cutting off his blood circulation. In comparison, you probably won't believe it when I tell you Lesley-Anne could still wear her p1 school uniform (still in pristine condition) when she was in p4.

Last year alone, Andre managed to rip four school bags. If Lesley-Anne's account is right, apparently some boys have found an ingenious way to avoid carrying their heavy bags - just kick them down the stairs. At one point, we threatened to make Andre carry his books in a plastic bag.

So anyway, back to Lesley-Anne's shoes. We lost the gamble on this one - she received spanking new school shoes over the weekend. Do you know if Jack Neo is making a sequel to Home Run? I'm happy to donate her old pair.

Easy and scrumptious shepherd's pie

I'm no cook. But I do have a few fail-safe recipes for Western food, which my kids love. You probably know me by now, cooking is one of my lowest priorities, above cleaning and below playing computer games. So my recipes tend to be as simple as possible, which is not that easy a task considering I have four (including myself) very discerning eaters at home.

I'm sharing this recipe for shepherd's pie - it's quite a constant in my household and is a great one-dish meal.

First, fry up 600g of minced beef or pork (we usually use a combination) with onions. If you like, you can marinate the meat with a little salt and pepper beforehand.

Then, and here's the secret - take a bottle of 10oz Prego Pasta Sauce, pour about a quarter of the contents into the minced meat, stir and let it simmer until the sauce is nicely absorbed by the meat.

If you are crying "cop out!", let me say this: by all means, you slave over your home-made tomato sauce making sure you have the right combination and amounts of ingredients. Meanwhile, I pop open a bottle and have the remaining 45 minutes to play with my kids. And chances are my sauce will still taste as good as (if not better than) yours.

While the meat is simmering, mash about five potatoes. If you've never done homemade mashed potatoes, try it. It's not that difficult and its taste can never be replicated by that packet rubbish. Just boil or microwave the potatotes until you can poke a fork right through. Peel the skin, mash, add some salt, lots of milk and butter until the consistency is soft and creamy.

Preheat the oven to 200 degrees celcius. Place the meat mixture in a dish, spoon the mashed potato on top, sprinkle paprika on top and bung it in the oven. Cook for 20 minutes.

Tah-dah! Serve hot with side garden salad if you wish. Always a family favourite and great for parties.