Olive modelling her chef's uniform made by Daddy from two plastic bags, some old drawing paper and a diaper carton.

Olive helping Daddy make (and eat) lasagne. We doubled the recipe to feed 12 instead of 6 but somehow the three of us still managed to eat half of it in one sitting. I blame Olive.

Kiasu: [Hokkien] a fear of losing, used to describe a person who is overly competitive; afraid to lose.

I may not have renounced my nationality and taken Singapore citizenship like Sri but I am displaying all the traits of a true-blue kiasu Singaporean. I’m eagerly following the results of the Primary One registration balloting, which is taking place in Singapore this month.

Primary school places are allocated according to phases laid out by the Ministry of Education. If the number of applicants for each phase exceeds the number of places available then the outcome will be determined first by the distance one lives from the school and then by balloting.

Phase 1: For kids with siblings currently at the school.

Phase 2A1: For kids with a parent who attended the school and joined the alumni.

Phase 2A2: For kids with silly parents who didn’t join the alumni and kids whose siblings studied at the school.

Phase 2B2: For kids whose parents are so kiasu that they have volunteered at the school for more than 40 hours. (This phase is for me, I'm already checking out volunteering guidelines at several schools.)

Phase 2C: For all other Singaporean and PR kids who are ineligible for the above.

Phase 3: For kids who are neither Singapore citizens nor PRs.

I have identified some potential primary schools for Olive and Leo and I’m closely watching the vacancies following the results of each phase allocation.

Of course we now have to move house as there aren’t any schools within 1 km of our flat … except for the Global Indian International School. So, we’re also looking for resale HDB flats within 1 km of our schools of choice.

As I write this post, my daughter is balancing on one leg while singing a Lady Gaga song so I can see she is obviously extremely talented. Finding a top primary school will be imperative.

And the most kisau thing about this is that my daughter is only 2 and my son is 1 month old! Olive still has 4 years to go before she starts school.

I was going to offer readers a photo of Olive’s poo but instead I found a visual of an even more nauseating bowel discharge:

Hello! My name is Leo 森 Tatham. (If you only see a square box then your computer doesn't speak Chinese.)

My first name, Leo, is short for ... Leo.

My middle name is 森 or "Sen" in Hanyu Pinyin. 森 means "forest" and is pronounced "sun" when spoken in English with a comic French accent à la 'Allo 'Allo! Imagine René saying "zee sun eez very 'ot".

The Chinese character 森 is delightful and, thankfully, easy to draw. It's a logical aggregate, where a character is repeated to create a new word. The character 木 means tree. Double it, 林, and you get grove. Triple it, 森, and you have a forest.

Olive: Olive wants play I spy.
Dad: OK, you go first.
Olive: I spy with my little eye, something beginning with … A. Is it a monkey? No. Is it an elephant? No. Is it doggy? Yes!
Dad: Er … well done Olive.

If you think of an object and try to make Olive guess, it’s no less challenging.

Dad: I spy with my little eye, something beginning with … [spies Tutu, Olive’s cuddly bear] ... T.
Olive: No, cannot T, must be A.
Dad: [sighs and spies a new object beginning with A] OK, something beginning with A.
Olive: Is it Tutu?
Dad: Huh?

Olive and I hit the zoo again this morning and when we returned home my two little monkeys, Olive and the squeaky one with no name, gave me a father's day present: a hotdog. This may seem an unusual gift but when daddy has been surviving on Chinese confinement food for two weeks, a crappy hotdog from Ikea tastes like manna from Heaven. Thank you Olive, thank you squeaky one.