Finding The Happy

Looking for joy in all the right places


cafe with baby


I’ve been getting a lot of polite suggestions to cut Arddun’s fringe. And my answer has always been no. A few reasons spring to mind – sharp object near very wriggly child, too-short fringe, the return of “Oh what a beautiful boy!” comments… But the chief reason is that I really want to train her hair to part on the side and not the centre… and I really want to be able to tie a ponytail.

Arddun’s broken out into some sort of rash. At first I thought it was food related, and I’d blamed the tablespoonful of chilli-coated chicken pieces she’d helped herself to (from my plate!) when we were at a food court on Saturday. But when it got worst and actually spread to her face, neck and all over her body, I took her to the doctor who decided it was a viral rash.

No special name for it. Just “viral rash”. No cure either. Just stay clear of warm baths, keep cool, and give plenty of children’s panadol because she’s probably feeling achy and yuck.

Today’s warm by Canberra’s spring standards. It’s also Day Three of Arddun in Spots, and Arddun’s mood swings aren’t fun to deal with even though she’s trying so hard to have a good time. After taking ages to fall asleep, only to wake up again 45 minutes later crying and scratching, I decided to put her hair up so it’d be a lot easier to slather her neck with Dermaveen. Her very first ponytail!

Arddun in a ponytail, waiting to put on her white sandals
White sandals = the promise of going out for a walk very soon. We wait patiently.
Arddun with ponytail in cafe
My little monkey, waiting for her mini muffin


Until I arrived in Australia (and then some), I’d never been much of a coffee drinker. You have to understand that good percolated coffee hardly existed in Singapore before I got here, and much of my late teens and early twenties saw the arrival and take-off of Starbucks. Whose coffee, as coffee¬†aficionados¬†assure me, actually

Starbucks van with open door spells "sucks' instead of "Starbucks". Whoops.

So cut to 2003 when I arrived here, and whodathunk that Australia would be so serious about their coffee? My husband, for example, does not ever drink the instant stuff. No Nescafe Gold, nada. It’s perc, plunge, or tea.

Which brings me to the babyccino.

Until I had peers with children in Australia, I had no idea what a babyccino was. And then when I learnt of its existence, I wondered who’d pay upward of $2 for pretty milk foam. But as it turns out, the food and beverage industry obviously understands how to provide where there’s a demand. And the provision isn’t for milk foam, but for the experience of drinking milk foam topped with chocolate powder in a mini-mug just like mummy and daddy.

Now that Arddun is quite adept at drinking from a glass or cup like a big person, she wants in on the Saturday morning flat whites that Daddoh seems to enjoy.

Not usually parents to cave in on every polite request that Arddun makes (*tilt head*-More?-Pease?-More?-*frantic signing*-More?), I nevertheless caved on this one. Because let’s face it. Watching Arddun drink a pretend flat white like her Daddoh is heaps cute. At least it’s cute to me.

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