Without even noticed, my baby has grown up into a talking, walking little wonder now. He plays, he jabbers, he shrieks and laughs and is forever getting into something which he shouldn’t. We never dare to take our gaze from him for a single minute or he would find something else to get into---like poke a dog with a stick and tragically end up with being bitten----such things you would never know.

My little devil is very picky about food. He refused to take a bite at anything which failed to ignite his appetite. Starving him is out. He always prefers hunger than a make-do meal. Ok, I admit that I am a lousy cook. Considering the fact that we eat out a lot, and his dad never put his foot in the kitchen, the blame is really not entire on me. Still it hurts a lot to watch him to spit out whatever I cooked, no matter how I coaxed, allured, and threatened.  To avoid starving him to death, I have to re-adjust my ambitions for life. Now becoming a good cook has become my first priority---God help me.

Little devil is really good at manipulating his poor mummy. Every time we took him out, he demanded to be held by me, and refused to be held by anyone else. If he shrieked in protest, I probably would take heart to put him down. But no, every time he would wail in his helpless, piteous tone: Ma Ma Bao, Ma Ma Bao… and clung to me like a monkey with both arms and legs. So forget about my back hurt like hell, forget that I was exhausted and dripping with sweat, I had no choice but scooping him up.

I am a mother, that can be loosly translated into I am multitasking miracles of nature, right?