As I wrote out the title for today’s post, I felt a heaviness in my heart. What if this was a picture of my own child? What would I do?

This is Charmaine Lim, a four year old in Singapore, who has just had her birthday. She is dying of a rare cancer. She has already had chemotherapy and a major abdominal surgery last week. This has bought her some time, but the cancer has already spread beyond her abdomen, and as you read this, she is having even more chemotherapy.

Five years ago, I went through the nightmare of my husband having cancer. Every moment of every day was filled with doubt and fear. Every day the weight - of everything - got heavier and heavier. The only thing we didn’t have to worry about were the medical bills, because in Australia, everything is paid for by a government insurance scheme – Medicare. We didn’t have to wonder whether or not we could fight for his life.

I remember before my husband had one of his operations, he said to me: “This could be worse.”

I cried and asked “How?”

“It could be our son who has cancer,” he replied. And I knew he was right.

It is a cliché, but it is true. Nothing is worse than the thought of your child dying young, not even the thought of your partner dying. Almost any parent would choose to give up their own life before their child’s. It’s what parents do.

But Charmaine’s family have a much greater challenge than my husband and I have ever had. They are working against time just to get the money to fight for Charmaine’s life.

Charmaine’s chance at survival will be improved to 50/50 with a treatment only available in a US hospital. However the treatment for this rare cancer will cost over $US300,000. That’s Half a Million Singaporean dollars.

I rang the National University Hospital in Singapore personally on Friday, to check out this story, and it is all true. The hospital administrative staff confirmed all of these details.

This is a crushing weight for Charmaine’s family. Her mother Cynthia is a single parent, with two young children, and who has already given up work to care for Charmaine. There is no medical insurance to cover this.

But Charmaine has a huge advantage. She has a family who just won’t give up on her. They have asked friends to help, who asked other friends. All kinds of people are now giving their time, and making direct donations, to help raise the money to give Charmaine a fighting chance. And I am now one of them.

What Charmaine’s family is doing is natural, right and proper. They are not begging for money. They are fighting for their child’s very life.  Lots of people have already given of their time and money, which is their expression of love and hope. But there is still some way to go to raise all of this Half a Million dollars.

Helping Charmaine is so very important because it proves that we believe every child’s life is precious. Win or lose, her situation shows us about the power of love, and of community. It will be tragic if Charmaine dies, but it will be much, much more tragic if she dies without having had this 50/50 chance.

So I urge you to please help, especially if you are Singaporean. Because if you are Singaporean, Charmaine is your child too. And if you have some way of communicating to others, then spread the word.

You can donate here (you need to scroll down the page).

And you can read all about Charmaine’s fight here.

When I was 11, I LOVED New Kids On The Block. That’s right. It was true love.

I loved their songs, the way they dressed, the way they danced, their hair, their voices, their smiles. I read up about their songs, their producer, their backgrounds, which American states they were from, their siblings, the name of their pets. I collected posters and stuck them up all over my wall. I collected magazine snippets from every girl magazine available, and kept them in a neat scrapbook.

I didn’t have enough money to buy their CDs, so I taped their songs off the radio. I would wait up each night to record which ever top 10 song was playing, immediately after the previous night’s songs, so I could listen to all their songs over and over and over again.

It was always so tricky to rewind the tape back and forwards, record the song, then stop the tape just in time, so that I didn’t record the DJ’s voice or the radio ads.

Amongst all my day dreaming about them, no one explained to me AND it never occurred to me… that I could actually meet New Kids On The Block IN REAL LIFE. I mean, these guys weren’t like real people. They were completely unattainable. They were far, far, far beyond my reach and imagination. It was clearly an impossible thought.

By the time I was 14, I grew out of the New Kids phase. In fact, I was very embarrassed that I had been so utterly infatuated with them. So I trashed all my posters, clippings and tapes. I scoffed at anyone who liked their songs. And they became the epitome of all that was uncool, cringe-worthy, and rejected childishness in my life.

And now, it’s been 19 years later, and I’m 30.

It’s funny how age and time has the ability to project you above issues of the past.

I feel I’ve come full circle. I’m happy to revisit the things of my childhood. And I’m not embarrassed about that phase in my life at all. I actually think it’s quite charming, in an enriching kind of way. It’s made me who I am. And I’m completely cool with it.

When I heard they were coming to Australia, it took me 2 seconds to decide that YUP, I was happy to pay hundreds of dollars to go see them! After all, it was an unfulfilled dream of mine, right? And they seemed to scrub up quite well. Plus it would be very entertaining to see thousands of other women in their 30s, all reliving their teenage fantasies!

However it was all not to be. Due to the economic downturn, NKOTB had to cancel their Australian tour. I won’t get to see them in real life!

Oh well. I’m sure they’ll come again next time.

Siiiiiiiiiiigh.

Finally! After something like 5 months, my broccoli plants have sprouted some heads.

I’m grinning from ear to ear with excitement and beaming with such delight… that it’s probably a bit pathetic. But, hey each to their own, ok?

For some reason, our two older boys have been waking up really early in the morning - at 5:30am - before the sun rises.

It’s so early that I have to lay out their breakfast dishes and the cereal boxes the night before, so they can help themselves to breakfast, without waking us up.

Most days they have their school clothes on, their shoes and socks on, and they are bursting with energy and ready to go to school, before 6:30am!

One morning last week a frosty mist had settled over our local park - which is very unusual for Perth.

My husband took the boys for a morning stroll before school to see it. They were so excited that they ran and ran and ran and ran until he couldn’t see them!

I’m an avid fan of science fiction. I really, really like it. I like watching it, I like reading it, and I like talking about it - on a totally superficial level for entertainment purposes.

But I wouldn’t say I’m a DIE HARD fan.

I wouldn’t be able to tell you the weapon used to kill which kind of alien on which planet in which series. I wouldn’t be able to explain the timeline of the political history between this race and that race. Nor would I be able to deconstruct and argue the complex relationship between Kirk and Spock.

I admit that the Star Trek brand has a rather heavy geek-factor associated with it, and that most people wouldn’t actually admit to wanting to watch the latest Star Trek movie.

But I have no problems with telling the world that I was excited about it!

In fact, I arranged babysitting for ALL THREE OF MY CHILDREN one evening, so my husband and I could watch it. Now is that true dedication or what?

Anyway. I really liked it! It was a cool action movie, the story, cast and characters were all great, and I particularly liked how you didn’t have to know anything about Star Trek to enjoy it.

There were plenty of insider jokes for those who are die hard fans, but it never got in the way of the pace of the movie. In fact, as I looked around the cinema at the end of the movie, all of the audience looked like completely normal people!

Liam weighs 5.1kgs and is 57cm. He gave me his first smile the other day, and now you can’t stop him!

My 4 year old, Sean. Happy, sparkly-eyed and always full of energy.

Enjoying the park in his inside-out t-shirt.

The other day we were digging in our garden, preparing the ground for a new vegetable patch. My 4 year old son spotted a frog – which he first thought was a chameleon, because it was so much like the sandy soil around it.  He only noticed it because it moved as it fell out of the shovel full of soil. There were squeals of delight from my boys, as it jumped and croaked.

My first reaction was, UGH! MORE ICKY CREATURES.

But on closer inspection, I must admit, I found its colour and skin pattern to be quite amazing. Lovely earthy brown patches with soft leathery bumps.

I felt the beginings of design inspiration from this otherwise ugly creature. At the very least, it is beautiful because of the way it is so perfectly adapted to its surroundings. And I almost admitted that it was cute… until the boys wanted to pick it up.

This past weekend, it was Anzac Day in Australia and New Zealand.

For those of you who are not from either of these countries, it is the day we remember all the men and women who have given service in the armed forces - from way back, right up to now.

The day usually starts with a dawn service in every tiny town, suburb and city all over the country. There are also services all over the world wherever there are Australians in any number. And there are huge dawn services held on major battlefields of the First World War in Turkey and France.

At mid-morning, there is a very slow, quiet march of current service men and women, and then of all the veterans who are still alive. Often the children or grandchildren of old soldiers who have passed away march in their place, wearing their medals, and carrying a picture of them.

There are no big parades of weapons, or talk about victories, or anything grand. It is all very subdued. After that, people usually spend time with families or friends.

The whole day is extremely important to the Australian identity, I guess because Australia is only about as old as the First World War. Not to mention that Australia and New Zealand lost so many people in the wars.

I have to confess, although I am respectful of Anzac Day and think it is such a beautiful thing, I personally am not impacted as significantly and deeply as my fellow Australians. Perhaps this is also true for the wider Asian-Australian community, I’m not sure. Perhaps it’s because we are mostly more recent immigrants to this country, and don’t have the same personal family connections to the wars.

Anyhow, my husband had made the boys watch the march on TV. We tried to explain who all the marching men and women were, who the very old men were, and why everyone was wearing special uniforms. But the boys didn’t really get it. They came away thinking that every “old fashion soldier” was called an Anzac.

Later in the day, I took the boys to visit my parents. It turned out that a friend of my father had spent years in the Air Force, and served overseas in peacekeeping missions! He had just been marching, and spending time with other veterans.

He was dressed up in a nice suit, and had all his service medals pinned on his jacket. The boys were so impressed with the medals (Sean thought they were money at first).

In the car on the way home, the boys asked lots of questions. Why is there war? What is it for? Which side is God in the war? Why do they use guns? Why do countries fight? Why did good people want to fight in the war?

It was pretty difficult trying to answer their questions and explain everything, and also why it is so important to remember those who fought in the wars.

My heart was in my throat, and for me, the wars suddenly became more real. What would it be like to be a mother, watching her sons go off to war, as so many did. And I prayed that my sons would never have to experience the tragedies of war.

I usually force myself to be very relaxed when it comes to my boys and the creepy crawlies they find.

If they find a spider, or a slug, or a grasshopper, most likely, they will catch it with their bare hands, run over to me and gleefully show me how it can walk up their arms.

I will say through clenched teeth, “That’s nice dear. Now go set it free or something.”

Well, the other day we were at the river, playing with some other kids.

One boy taught Callum a new trick! The brown spotty jellyfish in the river don’t sting!

(We’ve always taught them to NEVER TOUCH THE JELLYFISH, because they might get stung.)

So guess what, they spent the next 2 hours wading in the river collecting and playing with their new pets.

You should have seen me scream inside. Aieeeeeeeeeeee.

So, with baby number three here, my time is divided so many ways. All is well with baby Liam, but I am feeling, to be a honest, not quite as energetic as I had expected almost three weeks after he arrived.

Yesterday was Callum’s 6th birthday party! We have been planning his party for weeks. Since he is currently Star Wars obsessed, of course he wanted a Star Wars cake. He was imagining that it was going to be either a realistic 3D sculpture of Yoda, or a light sabre that had flashing lights.

But with a new baby, Easter and everything… we got to the evening before Callum’s party, and I still hadn’t even started his cake!

I asked my husband to bake the cake – just an ordinary packet buttercake, but we didn’t even have any eggs! So I sent Callum next door to beg for some from the neighbours.

By the time the cake was baked, the boys were in bed. But Liam was up again, and needing a lot of attention.

I reluctantly accepted that Callum’s 6th birthday cake was not going to be my finest ever work. My husband made up the packet icing, and my contribution was that I smeared the icing on the cake one handed while I was feeding Liam in front of the TV. We didn’t even have time to make some coloured icing to write Callum’s name.

I stole some of his Lego Star Wars characters from the toy box, stuck them on top of the cake, and made up the number six from some other Lego.

How poor is that!

Callum seemed untroubled, and had lots of fun playing host at his party, but I still felt guilty.

Look what we found dangling above where we keep our hats!

This is the most famous spider in Western Australia. It’s called a Redback, for obvious reasons. It is absolutely tiny, and its speciality is hiding in the dark nooks and crannies that are in bikes, shoes, shoe laces, hats, under tables and chairs, and the holes in things where you put your fingers in to grab hold and lift.

And so, every parent is terrified of them, because they hide in the places kids play, and because they are venomous. I was recently told that they are not nearly as dangerous as their reputation…but they just looks so evil! All black, except for that red blaze on the back. UGH!

My husband has been doing lots of “odd jobs” with the boys lately. Fixing this, building that.

I love the way my husband has no fear or misgivings about allowing the boys to explore dangerous things.

I love the way he takes them away and says, “Today we’re going to cut down a tree branch with a CHAINSAW!”

Or “Today we’re going to CLIMB ON THE ROOF to check the air conditioning unit!”

For me, I don’t think I could sustain the calm state of mind needed to deal with two boys and a step ladder!

If you look carefully, you might notice that he even made sure the boys wore their bike helmets and boots, so they feel like they are real workmen.

Ah, bless him.

The other day, my son walked into the house, gingerly holding something in his hands. It was a dead dragonfly. I was absolutely thrilled because it was just so beautiful.

I realised that this was a rare moment for us to see, up close, the colours and textures of such an amazing little creature. I ran to get my camera, set it to “macro”, and snapped away.

But as I looked through the lens, I saw that some plates on its tail were moving, ever-so gently and slowly. I was stunned. My goodness, it was still alive - just.

Its life was fading away second by second, and I felt guilty to be taking advantage of it in such a vulnerable moment.

But I was captivated by the colours and shapes and structures in the wings, and how they reminded me of the finest of lace, the curve of aircraft wings, and of spider webs.

There were tiny, tiny teeth along the edges of the wings, and strange blue dots, and some incredibly thin, glass like material between the strands of the webs in the wings.

I was completely in awe at the sheer beauty of creation. Of life. Of death.

A few weekends ago, we went to Cottesloe Beach for a picnic and play.

It’s been a while since we’ve done something spontaneous and fun as a family.

The weeks have been flying by, with our days completely dominated by the routine of breakfast, school, extra-curricular activities, homework, dinner, bath, and bedtime.

The boys are up at 7am, and it’s practically huh-hup-hup like soldiers until 8pm.

I hardly get to play with them anymore. I’m cooking dinner, washing dishes, helping with homework, overseeing their jobs, running the bath, putting things away etc. I just want to hang around, chat and kick a ball with them. But there doesn’t seem to be enough hours in the day.

The trend is scary. I can see how, if we didn’t do anything about it, that in a blink of an eye, I’ll miss my children’s childhood. Days will blur into each other and I’ll miss the details of my life.

I guess, that’s why our weekends are so precious.

The boys had such a good time. They spent close to 2 hours just mucking about in the water and sand. They made up a game where they had to run up the beach before the wave caught them. Then they would shuffle down the slope on their bottoms, letting the waves tumble them over.

It was magical to watch them have so much fun.

A few weeks ago, a couple of American readers emailed me and said they hoped I hadn’t been affected by the tragic bushfires in Australia - which were so bad they made worldwide headlines. A couple of hundred people were killed in what have become known as “mega-fires”.

Actually, the fires were in Victoria, on the east coast, and I am in Perth, all the way over on the other side of Australia. This is like the distance between New York and Los Angles, or Madrid and Moscow. A long, long way.

But, the climate and vegetation is basically similar, and we have the same risks. Everyone is terrified of bushfires. And only a few weeks before the Victorian fires, we did have a pretty big scare here in Perth with a bushfire, right in the middle of the city. Next to the Perth CBD is a huge area called Kings Park, a spectacular combination of war memorial, cultivated botanic gardens and natural bushland. It’s a fantastic asset for a city to have. But the natural bushland component, like all Australian bush, is very volatile in summer.

In January, a huge fire burnt out a large section of the park where we sometimes go for an evening walk and to admire the views of the Swan River. It seems the fire was deliberately lit. Fortunately, Kings Park’s famous features - the Botanical Gardens and War Memorial Lookout - were saved, and nobody was hurt.

So a couple of weeks ago, my husband and I went back to see what Kings Park looked like after a bushfire.

At first, it was pretty depressing. Everything was black, grey and brown. The ground was carpeted with ash, and every tree and shrub was blackened. The metal name plaques for the plants were melted.

But then I started to see little sprigs of green. Just poking out of the ash, or bursting determinedly from the side of a seemingly charred, broken stump.

I recalled from school lessons that fire is an inevitable and natural part of the cycle of life in Australia, and that some species of plant seeds will never even germinate without the smoke that comes from a fire.

And it was great to see that, however bad the fire was, life is still there, waiting for it’s chance to bloom.

I’m itching to wear high-heeled shoes again. Founds these drool-worthy designs from Aldo. Velvets and metallics! And in such lavish colours! Mmmm.

…
Check out more of my favourite online shops in my Fashion and Shopping Directory.

When Tourism Australia asked me to help them spread the word about my great big home country as a holiday destination, they wanted me to pick any two regions. Of course, since I know my own home region so well, I wrote about that first. But for the second location, I decided to choose somewhere I’ve never been.

Unbeknownst to my husband, I have a little dream holiday all planned out – for “some time in the future”.

To understand the gravity of what I’m about to admit, you have to understand that we’re not exactly rolling in money.

We have a mortgage, and we live on one income. So we’re not the kind of people who will spontaneously book a week’s stay in a 5-star luxury resort, dump our kids in a Kids Resort Club, while we get massages by the pool.

We’ve always been a camping kind of family. We stay in caravan parks. We go fishing. Hiking, exploring and star gazing. We light our own fires and cook our own food. And I genuinely like that.

But.

There’s that little part of me that is a princess.

The bit that has HAD ENOUGH OF ROUGHING IT OUT. Enough of mosquitoes. Enough of sand in the sleeping bags. Enough of beans on toast and screaming children.

Give me underwater adventure and give me luxury accommodation.

I have this dream of going somewhere gorgeous and tropical. I want to eat fresh seafood (that I didn’t have to catch myself) and drink freshly squeezed fruit cocktails. I want a sun tan and a full body massage.

I want to go somewhere with never ending crystal blue waters and soft white sand as far as the eye can see.

I want to go to the Whitsunday Islands in Queensland. The tropical paradise of Australia.

The kids will be teenagers. They can be let loose on the Gold Coast, and they can visit all the theme parks to their heart’s content.

My husband and I will be hot-air ballooning, jet skiing, and sailing over the Islands. We’ll be scuba diving and snorkelling in the coral wonders of the Great Barrier Reef.

We’ll be doing what, you know, normal people are supposed to do on holidays.

Relaxing.

So after talking to the friendly people at Tourism Australia, I discovered to my sly delight that you don’t need a small fortune to have a Queensland adventure.

If you are from Singapore, you can visit www.australia.com for some special “Come Walkabout in Australia” packages to Queensland starting from S$468.

Or you can check out www.qantas.com.sg, who are offering a special fare where you can visit TWO Australian cities for the price of ONE (from S$869).

Or call 1800-GO-TO-AUS (1800-46-86-287) to speak to an Aussie Specialist travel agent.

Photo credits: Tourism Australia Copyright