Tiger Teacher Mom? No such thing

I am surrounded by Tiger Moms. Sometimes, against my better judgement, I try to be one too. But I have discovered that at heart, I can't be one. I can't keep it up. I've been told I don't have enough resolve to be a Tiger Mom. I'm okay with that because I know the real reason I can't be a pure, true blue Tiger Mom. 

Because I was a teacher before I became a mother and that shapes how I parent. And the teacher is a whole lot more reasonable and sees a lot more long term than the parent does.

I recently wrote something regarding my educational philosophy. 

" children are innately curious and creative and when given the right opportunities will come to love learning and that love for learning will propel them onto greater things. I have always chosen to focus on the former rather than teach with the singular aim of getting good grades. While I do agree that good grades are important, I see them as a by-product of the love for learning rather than an end in itself. My classroom ought to be a safe space for children to discover who they are and it must be a safe space for them to fail, pick themselves up, re-group and try again"

When I try to go all crazy Singaporean parent on my kids, I always end up being chastened by my better angels. I fall prey to fear and anxiety, mostly with the boys who are often careless and messy. With Evan, we saw brilliance but unwillingness to apply himself. So when it came to Muffin, I came down on him with the wrath of a Tiger Mom angered. 

To wrestle with carelessness, the penalty was to do yet another exercise. In theory, it sounded like a good idea. Get rid of the carelessness and increase mastery. But in execution, I saw how I was doing my son a disservice in the long run and all of a sudden those mistakes he was making, did not seem a big deal anymore. What I was doing, was an even bigger deal.

It had gotten to the point where Muffin would not start any work because he was paralysed by the fear of making any mistakes. 

It had gotten to the point where Muffin would cry hysterically when he discovered he had made a mistake. 

It had gotten to the point where he was fearful of the words "You have to get some work done". 

That's when I knew, for a fact, I was doing wrong by him.

As a parent, I was making sure that he feared failing just so that he would give me a good piece of work. 

As a parent, I was punishing him for trying to figure out math for himself; something he had enjoyed thoroughly up to this point. 

As a parent, I was making him fear learning because now, in his mind, testing what he had learnt had become punitive.  

As a parent, I was not giving him space to be okay with not getting it right the first time. Instead, I was causing him to become catatonic at the thought of getting something wrong.

As a teacher, I would have pointed all these things out to the parent and drawn attention to how damaging that was to the child, his self-esteem and confidence.  

As a teacher, I would have known that careless mistakes did not define the person the child would grow up into. 

As a teacher, I know that the fear of failing would limit the person the child would grow up into. 

And so, as a teacher, I would have wanted to smack around the parent who did that to his or her poor kid. 

So, Tiger Mom be damned, I listened to the teacher. Hopefully it isn't too late. 

 

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Why Exams are Important Pt 2

So I get a message from Jordan's teacher yesterday.

She's been doodling a lot in class. Even when the teacher is teaching.

She's always been a doodler. She draws everywhere. Any time she gets her hands on scraps of paper, she'll doodle.

Sometimes, the doodling is effective because it helps her understand concepts better. Sometimes, it's just doodling for doodling sake.

Just a quick glance at her things all over the house, I found a variety of different sorts of doodles on everything from scrap paper to school test papers.

Hence, an annoyed school teacher.

To be fair, if I were the teacher, I'd be annoyed too since it's easy to assume that the child isn't paying attention when there is doodling. My own students do it as well.

Admirably, she admitted openly to the teacher that she doodles when she is bored (they've been going through exam paper after exam paper) and when she finds things hard to understand (that's how she unpacks things).

I also try and suggest to the teacher that instead of fully banning her from doing it and understanding that this is something that she does to process and to decompress, why not let her doodle as a form of note taking. To channel it into something the teacher can accept.

She seems to be open to that idea and I'm grateful.

Then, in the evening, I read about Nike's Chief of Design and how he doodles. All. The. Time. Part of me wants to send that article on to the teacher but the other part of me knows that's just being snarky. But it would be cool if her doodling allowed her to become chief of design, somewhere.

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Why exams are important

It's exam time. Again.

And that's usually when creativity flourishes most. When there is real work to be done, the mind wanders and interesting ideas and creations surface. It isn't really necessity that was the mother of invention. I think, more possibly, boredom.

One day, Evan comes out of school with his finger encased in paper. He says it's a dragon's talon. His friend made it for him. And he asks if I can find out how to make them. We YouTube it, I learn it, I pass on the information to him and promptly forget how to do it. He goes on to make 10 talons; he has to make 10, after all he has 10 fingers and makes a couple more in case he chips a nail. He's become a grand master of it.

It's a thing in class now. They're all little dragons that have started to spout talons. Poor teachers. The only things I cautioned him against was to NOT do it during teaching or work time and please use rough paper rather than buying a clean sketch pad from the book store for this.

The annoying thing is that there are talons all over the house and he refuses to throw it out. He puts them them on to claw menacingly at Muffin when his brother annoys him.

Then, there was this.

It's a creature. Not enough legs to be an insect or an arachnid but enough to be an Evan creation. It's made out of staples, magnets and an eraser. All things you find on the study table especially when you're parked there for extended periods of time.

He tells me it's science. He uses the magnet because that's how you get the staples to hold on. The eraser is important because that's how you anchor the staples and it's what forms the body.

Ingenious though extremely annoying because of the high wastage of staples and the random staples lying around waiting to impale the random, unaware adult.

He's proud of his creations and he brings them to school to show his friends. Honestly, these are probably going to be the things he will remember learning in primary school, not so much the fanciful and impractical Chinese phrases that he's had to memorise by the boat load. 

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To the parent of a first time camper

Dear Parent of child going off to camp for the first time,

I recently went through the first of my children going to camp. It was a somewhat surreal experience that I feel I ought to share. In a grand scheme of things, it is in preparation for the mother of all camps, 8 years from now for my eldest boy child.

We knew that it was coming but we didn't think it would be all that bad. After all, she has had sleepovers before.

But everyone did miss her and everyone felt her absence. She's home now though and we're back to regular programming.

There was a sobby (I am assured they were tears of joy) reunion but all is good in my world now and I can now objectively think back to the last three days.

So here's what I've learnt.

1. You will want your child to call home. Don't.
Packrat went to the briefing and reported that teachers were inundated with questions about whether their children could bring air-mattresses, sleeping bags, portable diffusers. They faced disgruntled parents when they informed them that the children would not have access to their mobile phones and that no, they could not queue up to use the coin phone either.

This caused much distress and I think this was where the camp experience differed from a sleepover. A sleepover would have involved the constant exchange between the parents on what funny things the kids were up to and this sometimes included photographs and videos. This time however, there was a complete cut off from our children.

But, now that she's home and she's told me what went on at camp, I think the teachers were indeed wise. After all, they have done this year in, year out.

She told me that she went to the sick bay on the first day. It was a bad headache, despite drinking gallons of water. And she stayed there for 3 hours, napping before she felt better and more human. It was at that point, that I realised that, had she been able to call home or get in touch with me, she would have told me about being in the sick bay, possibly been weepy about it and I would have immediately asked if she needed to come home. There would have been a possibility that she would have said yes and then, the camp would have been a slightly extended version of a day camp.

Because I didn't know, because she had no idea that coming home would have been an option, she got  over herself and her headache and went back out to play.

So, the radio silence was great. It prevented homesick children from indulging in their homesickness and anxious parents from finding reasons to bring said child home early. I suppose if she really were unwell, they would have called me. And headaches, in their book, weren't serious enough to warrant a potentially heart dropping phone call for me to receive.

2. You will want to spy on your child. (See Above)

With 240 ten year olds away from their parents for the first time, there were bound to be anxious parents. And because Singapore is small enough and the camp location was made known to the parents, some showed up, testing their prowess at stealth hunting and paparazzi level stalking. There were also parents who worried that their children needed creature comforts and attempted to show up under the guise of delivering them or simply delivering pizza. Whatever was necessary to gain access to the child. 

I asked her if she saw parents hiding in the bushes or pretending to be trees. After she finished laughing, she looked at me in all seriousness and asked if I had been one of those nosy parents. I said no. She said good. I asked her why. She said it would have been an interference on the part of the parents. She said it would have been embarrassing (She tried to soften the blow by saying she would have been happy to see me but even then...). And she said it was only for 3 days and if she could miss me and didn't beg her teachers to send her home and didn't run away from camp to come find me, I didn't need to stalk and spy on them. 

Basically, she was telling me, in her 10 year old way that she needed this space to grow up. 

Wise one, my first born. 

3. You will underestimate your child. (Ditto the previous point)

Admittedly, I worried. I worried that she wouldn't be able to sleep in a sleeping bag. When I found out that someone snuck in a pillow (I didn't even think of getting her to pack beyond her packing list), I found myself wondering if she could sleep without a pillow. I found many other little things to wonder and worry about. Above all, I worried that she would not have a good time and she would be miserable.

Much as I hate to admit it, Packrat and the teachers were right. She had been fine and she came home brimming with excitement of all her achievements. She told me she abseiled down 7 storeys. She told me that she rolled her jacket into bundle and used it as a pillow. She slept like a baby. She, whose extent of cooking at home was to make a grilled cheese sandwich, was able to cook up her own meals on an open flame. She managed to also successfully put drops into her eyes like we taught her to at home. 

In short, not only did she survive camp, she thrived. 

So, my advice? Cede control, trust the school and child. 

And you'll get all the good bits. You'll get to hear the stories through triumphant rose-tinted glasses, you get to stand anxiously at the school gates waiting for that first glimpse of her and you get to get all the air squeezed out of you when she throws her arms around you and gives you a hug big enough to make up for all the time she was away.

I promise you. It'll be hard to do all these things. But it'll be worth it.

From a parent who survived her child being away at camp.

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History hungry

We've always talked about how Jordan is Mini-Me because she's athletic, competitive and high strung. A girl after my own heart.

Evan has always been Packrat's doppelganger. The geek interests, the introvert and the mild endearing disposition.

A few months ago, I received confirmation of my genetic contribution to Evan. Our regular pick up ritual is the boys get into the car and mutter salutations before requesting for their audio book of the day to be put on. One day, this routine deviated. Evan got into the car and asked to talk rather than listen to the audio book.

He went on to tell me about Social Studies in school and Singapore during World War II. My mind flashed to me, having these conversations with my parents, when I did Social Studies in primary school. I was exactly the same age as Evan. I learnt from my mother how their house got requisitioned by the Japanese High Command. That they all ducked under the dining table when there were air raids; the same dining table I used for studying and now sits in my brother's house. I learnt then that my grandfather would set traps in the drains that had water flow in from the sea at high tide and how he caught fish and crab for the family that way. I learnt about the gory sight of heads put up on spikes as a warning of disobeying the Japanese.

I also remembered having discussions with my dad about the war, on the way to uni, where I spent a semester reading Singapore history.

In an instant, all this seemed relevant as my 10 year old fired a million questions about Singapore during the war. And I told him all the stories that my dad and mum as well as my grandmother told me about their lives during the war. I answered his questions about the European Theatre with what I could remember from days in freezing cold lecture halls 20 years ago. Perhaps, a primitive instinct 20 years ago pushed me to do all those course in preparation of a son not yet even a thought.

And the boy lapped it all up. He asked for books, more books and has started reading obsessively about war. War literature (it's amazing how much good juvenile war literature there is out there), fact books, a whole bunch of "I survived..." books and an old abandoned copy of a secondary school history text book. He literally paced the house waiting for the Amazon order to arrive with more history books in there. When it did, quiet descended upon the house. I let homework slide because I saw how he was devouring the books. There was always tomorrow for homework.

I didn't understand the obsession when it was Pokemon where he inhaled facts about Pokemon and could spit them out with such precision I wondered why he didn't put that much effort into his school work. But it's just how an obsession works. He's doing the same thing now for WWII history though because human nature and cruelty are involved, he doesn't get all of it himself and has questions that bother him somewhat. So we sit and chat about it. He asks questions, I try my best to answer it. I pull on things that he remembers, like visiting the USS Arizona at Pearl Harbour when he was little. And it makes more sense to him now. The attack, why it was surprising, why the Japanese did it. How that coincided with the attack on Singapore. Bit by bit, he's figuring it out.

He draws the line, though, at media. He'll read, he'll listen to stories about it but he won't watch it. Pity, I thought. I would have loved to have taken him to see Dunkirk.

But it is true. When there is interest, passion lies and the curiosity to know.

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BASF Science Lab 2017: MuffinThe Young Scientist

JED love science.

They love science experiments which we used to do a lot of even before they started proper science in school. When they were able to read and we inherited a whole bunch of kid science magazines, they devoured it and there were magazines all through the house. All. Over. The. Place.


I credit the science programme they did in kindy for this early curiosity and I love that they surprise me with random bits of information.

To be honest, I'm not entirely sure if it helps them in school but the point is in the fun.

It's Muffin's turn to be mad about science.

His favourite things about science.
1. Experiments.
The most fun ingredients for experiments are baking soda, detergent, vinegar. Lots of fizzing, lots of foaming and very very clean bathroom floors after that.

2. Muffin also loves Bill Nye the Science Guy. Bill Nye is irreverent, physically comedic and makes it over the top hilarious. There's an episode on life cycles that he loves and watches ad nauseum and chuckles when Bill Nye goes "Birth, Life, Death!"

3. Science magazines and books
All over the house, there are science comics and books. And when I mean, all over the house, it is everywhere, under the bed, under the pillow, in the bathroom, all over the dining table, everywhere. But he's constantly reading, thinking and popping up with weird questions that I now deputise his brother and sister to deal with.

4. More experiments!
We sometimes get the opportunity to go for science camps and labs. The twins went BASF Kids Lab last year and we brought Muffin too but he hid behind Packrat most of the time. He was intimidated by his siblings being there and able to answer all the questions, he was intimidated by all the older kids there that he didn't want to do any of the experiments.

This year, we were invited to the preview again. Since it was smack in the middle of exams for the two who actually do study science, I sent Muffin alone with his friend. Out of the shadows of his siblings and with his trusty best friend, the two boys had a rocking good time.

They got to dress like researchers, they got to record their findings and make oobleck (which is ALWAYS ALWAYS fun) and they got to meet Dr Bubbles; who in Muffin's opinion was Bill Nye!

Dr Bubbles a.k.a. Bill Nye!

Muffin wants to do the Discovery Science Camp during the June break like his siblings did. I'm saving that one though, when I need him in 'day-care' during a vacation and this June, we don't need that yet. He's also advocating for the BASF Kids' Lab to all his friends because he discovered there's a repeat session of what he did in June. This child, if he can't be a scientist, can sell things next time. Quite the marketer. 

So for those who have sciencey kids and want a day of science activity during the coming break, sign up and make oobleck and meet Dr Bubbles!

These spots go fast though so make like the wind and sign up.

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Flunking

One of the things that kids today are not allowed to do a lot of is to fail. We try our darndest to protect them against failing. Offering them pre-emptive help, berating them for failing and instilling the fear of failing in them because that leads to them not doing well and not doing well causes them to not be able to get into good schools and not getting into good schools causes them to not get good jobs and then they will be broke and homeless. Or so the cautionary tale goes.

It's hard not to get sucked into it. It's so much part of our vocabulary. It leaves our lips before we can stop ourselves.

One of JED came home with a badly done math paper and hides it from us. Another of JED calls from school to dejectedly inform me of failing Chinese. Another had an entire page of math streaked with angry red crosses.

How do we respond?

The immediate, instinctive reaction is the Tiger Mom one.
1. To be accusatory: WHY DID YOU FAIL?
2.  To be reactive: More with the tuition!
3. To be punitive: No more toys, no more TV.
4. To be self-flagellating: It's my fault. I haven't done enough work with them. I haven't been home enough.

But then, when those thoughts have been processed, the lingering question is "To what end?". Would more tuition help? Would punishment help? Would my sitting beside them all the time be of advantage to them?

Then the more reasonable Mom struggles to take control.
1. Failing is good. At least JED learn to fail. Learn to cope with failing. I did have a 'gua gua gua' moment when the math paper was discovered. Because that's something so rare in our lives.
2. Failing allows for introspection. Why did they fail? Lack of preparation? Lack of comprehension? Lack of motivation?
3. Failing allows for longer term solutions. How can it be fixed? Should WE fix it? Or should the child learn to fix it?

The latter is really hard to do. It isn't as solution-oriented. The outcomes take a long time to surface. And we really do struggle to not be reactive. It's so easy to panic. It's so easy to get sucked into the vortex of grade obsession.

So the important thing is for us to remember is that in the larger scheme of things, what's failing a test in primary school? What's failing a test full stop? Do we do more harm than good when we prevent them from failing when it isn't of great consequence? Conversely, would a perfect school record be indicative of anything else later on in life?

What are we going to do about the little fails that JED have encountered?
1. We've figured that the math fail was about being reluctant to go the distance. To read the question in its entirety. To slowly break it down. When we sit at the table and help deconstruct the question, everything works. Unfortunately, exam entry usually prohibits a parent sitting beside the child so said child just has to learn to do it without us there. How do we do that? Model the sum and set many others. As with sport, much of math is about repetitive memory. Hopefully.

2. Chinese- well, that's an uphill battle. When I've figured out that one, you'll be the first to know.

3. Fearing the fails- The constant reiteration that they have to tell us if they don't do well because we need to work with them to figure out why it happened. Hiding it from us does none of that. They also need to take responsibility for the fail. And also the undying promise to each of them that we love them for who they are and not what they can do. That while we may berate them when they don't do well, it doesn't take away from how much we love them.

To which, all 3 dissolved into puddles of grateful tears of relief.

For us, when JED fail, we have to learn to not take it personally and by 'we', I actually mean me because Packrat is more chill about it. And the most important question to ask is...

"So, what's next?"

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First week of school? No tears, no fuss, no big deal

Our youngest is no longer a pre-schooler. On the 3rd of January, he joined the ranks of a primary school going child. And unlike the twins, he seems to have taken to it like a fish to water. I suspect, that has got to do with him having seen his older siblings go through it. He couldn't quite understand what the fuss was about and why he had to wait so long to do things.

When asked what he did the first week, he told us that there were a lot of lines and a lot of waiting.
1. Waiting to line up.
2. Waiting for the class to quiet before anything happens
3. Lining up to buy food.
4. Lining up to put the plates back.
5. Lining up for the bathrooms after putting the plates back because evidently, everyone needs to pee after returning their dishes.
6. Waiting to go back to class after going to recess.
7. Lining up for the right bus.
8. Waiting to get on the right bus.

Has he learnt anything substantial in the last two weeks of school? Learning to queue, obviously. And also learning how join the shortest line at recess to maximise time in the playground. He also learnt how to make change.

Outside of school, he learnt how to cook a meal from scratch. Slicing, dicing, sauteing, the works. And he learnt that a little kindness goes a long way. He cooked the meal from start to finish for his brother and that won him the choice of television programmes for the entire day.

 

What he learnt in the first two week of school wouldn't have helped him survive if he were marooned on a desert island but those are good survival skills to learn. Did he learn any reading, 'riting and 'rithmetic? I'm not certain of that bit but that'll come because Singapore. 

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Unknown rewards

Jessica Lahey in her book, A Gift of Failure, tries to convince helicopter parents to wean off extrinsic rewards for behaviour. She asserts that this stunts the growth mindset in children where they do things because they are trying to figure things out rather than because they get rewarded for it. While I find it hard to adopt everything she says, I fully agree with her ideas.

She also talks about how, if it was necessary to reward, the rewards had to be inconsistent and rare enough not to form a pattern.

Fast forward to this upcoming weekend. Packrat and I are away this weekend. JED want to know if they can watch TV while we are away. As we are not around, we felt that it was only fair to put that decision into the ones who were caring for them in our absence. The twins were told that their TV privileges would only be made known to them during the weekend. How that decision was going to be made, was a secret. Not very democratic and transparent but child rearing rarely ever is.

These uncertainties brought about a sea change in their behaviour. Instead of the regular bickering and occasional-come-to-blows responses to each other, in the split second after the aforementioned pronouncement about television was made, they became helpful siblings who looked out for each other and were accommodating of each other.

When Muffin dropped his cup, Jordan scrambled to get it and Evan rushed to rinse it out as opposed to the usual "Muffin, why are you so clumsy?" accusation. The twins also wrote down a list of household duties that needed to be done and split it amongst themselves.


They even elected to read to Muffin before they fell asleep.

All this because they know that their TV privileges depended on their behaviour. But they weren't sure which aspects of their behaviour mattered the most. Being helpful, being caring and considerate, being nurturing, being neat... they didn't really know. So in face of the uncertainty, they did everything. We're not sure if it's sustainable but it's been interesting to see how they responded and we'll see what all the good intentions amount to by the time we get back.

At the same time, I'm leaving them a big series of books to hopefully distract themselves.

It's a lot less mess and less painful to clear up than leaving them Lego.

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Holiday Adventures 1: The One with Writing A Book

As part of their K2 project many years ago, the twins had to make a book from start to finish. They remember that, especially Jordan who actually goes back to kindy every year to talk to the K2 children about the book she wrote when she was their age.

Anyway, when the opportunity came up this holiday to 'write a book' at Writing Sprouts with their friends, both of them were keen to do so, though Jordan more than Evan. But he went along quite gamely and they ended up having so much fun that they couldn't wait to get dropped off in the morning. The workshop ran from 9.30 to 12 every day but they would clamour to be dropped off at 9.

I had to work so I didn't see much of what they did. But that also meant that all I had to go on was theirs and their friends' feedback.

One of the first things they did at the workshop was to learn to write acrostic poems. So when I asked what they thought about the workshop, they gave me an acrostic poem in response.

Fun.
Useful.
Noisy.
Neat
Yes.

Excellent.

To elaborate:

Fun:
They got to play games. They played charades and they played a version of Pictionary. They got to draw funny things on the board and it never ceases to amaze me how much we aren't on their wavelength. They get what each other draws. I have to look at it as a drawing and try and interpret from the oft-unclear scribbles what they are trying to communicate across. But with each other, they're so in-tuned with each other's frequencies that they get it before the unidentifiable squiggles are complete. It helped that all the children in the workshop were round about the same age so they got each other's humour. Therefore, it was fun.




Useful:
Well, they now know how to write an acrostic poem. But beyond that, Edna (who ran the workshop) gave them a lot of scaffolding about how to create a story. She taught them to use story maps, mountains, the 'hamburger' ingredients to writing a story. I asked Evan if they helped him. The matter-of-fact answer was "Yes, that's how I wrote the story".

Subtext: Duh, Mommy!

Now, to see if they actually do it when they have to write on their own. 

Noisy:
According to them, it was good noisy. Noisy because they got rowdy when they played games. Noisy because they got to read a crazy poem. Noisy because they got to talk to their friends about what they wanted to write. They got to discuss what they wanted to write. Evan and his friend Mark decided to join brains and co-create and co-write their book. They divvied the work, chatted about what needed to be done, how to do it, how to grow the story and eventually put it down and paper with illustrations.

It was happy noise.




Neat.
Neat not as in clean and tidy. Neat as in cool. Writing wasn't labourious composition. We have come to the sad conclusion that composition isn't really writing. But what they discovered during the workshop was that 'composition writing' wasn't the only form of 'acceptable' writing. Edna got them to create their stories as comics and learning how to write dialogue with the speech bubbles. I have since found scraps of paper round the house with comics scribbled on them. Not to be thrown away, I have been sternly warned.

They even got to write dedications for their books and they took that very seriously. I know that if I were a kid and I could write my every single page of my own book right up to the dedication page, I'd be absolutely chuffed too.

Evan's dedication was a bit unclear so I had to ask him about it again for Edna and he told me that it was for, in a nutshell, everyone in the family, because they were special. That was beyond thoughtful and neat, in my opinion.

Creating comics

Jordan's comic strip.

A story about Pencil Potter.

And Lord Correction Tape.

The Pencil family safe.

Yes:
Why yes? Yes to what?

In response to my questions, my 9 yos rolled their eyes at me. They roll their eyes far too much. Ophthalmic callisthenics, my favourite new term.

Anyway, yes was to all the regular questions. They had fun, they'd do it again, they had a great time.

This coming weekend, they get their published books and we get to go their book-reading session.

Having written a book. One thing to check off the bucket list and one thing off their Holiday Wish List of Fun.


Disclaimer: This post was written in collaboration with Writing Sprouts. Photos are from Writing Sprouts though it's our two cents' worth!

Writing Sprouts is an English Language Arts School for kids. Its specially crafted literacy programme leads kids to creative writing and the opportunity to self publish their work. Writing Sprouts conducts weekly classes, holiday workshops, private coaching, fun literacy events and more.

It is located at 308 Telok Kurau Rd

Vibes@East Coast #01-03/04

​S423858
Tel: 6247 7173

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Experiment 2: Naked Eggs over Easter

Easter passed us by in a blur of church, Easter Egg hunts and chocolate eggs. At the same time, my niece and her mum decided to create a naked egg in lieu of the chocolate ones. It looked fascinating enough for me to look it up.

Concurrently, Jordan's started a new area in science. It's less nature, more physics/ chemistry; physical science. It requires a little bit more scaffolding than flora and fauna and it's not as instinctive for her.

So we embarked on the Naked Egg experiment to show certain the twins certain things.
1. Properties of materials can be altered.
2. Osmosis happens.

We documented it along the way with videos. Evan did a great job hosting the experiment and highlighting the different bits along the way.

Introducing the materials and observing the reaction between the eggshell and vinegar.



A few hours later when most of the hard shell had disintegrated into scum; very different from its hard but brittle shell previously.



Pretending to be the Mad Scientist, she updates us on the second part of the experiment where we were aiming to dye the egg thoroughly through osmosis with food colouring. She demanded a script!



Success! After 3 days of soaking, no more shell, totally dyed a hue of blue and purple- a rubberized egg that bounces. They remember the video where the egg was bounced too high and went splat so they bounced it gently.


Unable to resist that the egg would go splat; creating an eggs-plosion! And discovering to Mommy's disgust (not at all veiled in the video) that the yolk was still raw!

Conclusion: It's a neat magic trick of sorts. Not only did the shell disintegrate, the albumen solidified somewhat and blue dye didn't just colour the eggs, it stained the hands badly. On top of that, do the final "egg-plosion" outdoors and in worn-out clothes because the colour does.not.come.off! Lots of fun. Lots of mess. Lots of lessons and most importantly, little tedium.

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An Ad Campaign

One of the series of books that JED have been incredibly enthralled by is Judy Blume's Fudge series. The dad in the book is in advertising (this series was obviously written in a different era) and there are references to advertisements, jingles and selling products in the book.

At the same time, I've been meaning to make some insect repellent out of essential oils. Today, I sat down and did it while they were doing their homework. Naturally, JED wanted to know what I was doing and wanted to help. While doing that, I asked if they wanted to come up with a name for the repellent I was making. That was how it started. JED, Jordan and Evan especially, wanted to 'invent' a new product to sell (In one of the books, Fudge as a pre-schooler obsesses about how he can make money). So we started talking about how to go about doing that.

With my sketchy knowledge about advertising, I talked them through the 3 phases.
1. Create the product.
2. Market the product.
3.  Sell the product.

Phase 1- Create the product.
1. We talked about the important features of what we were doing. We were going to create insect repellent. It would be made from essential oils. It would keep away mosquitoes and bugs. We needed a name for it. They came up with Monster Bug Spray and put it to a vote. It was a unanimous decision (Unanimous, a word they learnt from the book)

Here's the recipe.
- 14 oz of witch hazel
- 15 drops of citronella oil
- 12 drops of lavender oil
- 15 drops of lemongrass oil
- 15 drops of tea tree oil

They were little apothecaries. They dripped the oils with a little pipette and Muffin helped me pour the mixture into smaller bottles. They loved the smells of the oils wafting. They loved being the testers as I smeared overflowed drops onto them. Muffin made labels for the bottles carefully including a picture of a monster on each one before sticking them on.

Once we were done, Jordan and Evan insisted we start trying to sell it.

Phase 2- Market it.

I told them that people would only buy a product if they knew about it. So they had to advertise it and convince people that they needed it and how their lives would be much worse if they didn't. Jordan suggested making a poster to place outside our house (print media). Evan suggested making a video and posting it on Facebook (audio-visual and social media) so people knew about it.

 

(Watch till the end where there's even a wink!)

They wrote out the ad so that they wouldn't forget the lines. I added suggestions.
1. Speak in short sentences.
2. Make it catchy.
3. Have a slogan. (I had to explain what a slogan was so I showed them Nike's Just Do It and MacD's I'm lovin' it! slogans)

I give them credit for trying to incorporate all that into the script including a slogan at the end.
"Monster Bug Spray! Keeps the bugs away!"

Then they set up the scene for the advertisement. They moved in chairs and turned on the lights. Jordan wore a For Sale T-shirt and a wink. Evan, more introverted, gamely played her assistant but chimed in with a smile here and a word there. All I had to do was video it. So I did, trying my best not to let my giggles wobble the phone too much.

Phase 3- Sell it.

This is where we're at currently. Jordan's poster advertised that our current promotion was "Buy 1, Get 2 Free" whittled down from "Buy 1, Get 3 Free" which I told them would make us no money and we'd probably lose money that way.

We're going to put up the poster on our main door to attract customers apparently. Its attraction is that it's natural and home made by the family. I'm to put the video on FB (They've learnt of the existence of FB) so that the people who don't live around us will know about it and come from all over the world to buy it. (Fat hope.)

I'm not sure how many bottles we'll sell if any. I told JED that we'd have to trial it first to make sure it did indeed keep the bugs away (otherwise our advertisements would be lying) and the Health authorities would probably want to check that we didn't put anything bad in it. But whatever it is, we have a Beta version now.

Their first product and ad campaign, Monster Bug Spray ©️JED coming to a chemist near you, all in a day's work. I don't think we'll win a Clio Award though.

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Christmas gifting

JED have been counting down to Christmas. They are so excited they are vibrating on the spot. And they are excited about it not because Christmas commemorates the birth of Jesus but because they get presents. All they can think about is presents. Presents for themselves.

In a bid to get them to think beyond themselves this Christmas, we asked them to think about how happy they would be on Christmas morning with all their presents and how they could help others feel the same way.  We also asked them who they could bless in the same way that they themselves were blessed.

The eventual decision was to bless those in our estate that helped keep the estate clean. We have lived in the area long enough for JED to know who they are and for them to know who JED are. How we were going to bless them, we were going to leave to JED. We only stipulated one thing. That they not to pick items that they, JED, didn't like or didn't think much about.

With money from their savings, we set them free in NTUC. They picked their favourite snacks. Potato chips, biscuits, snacks. When I gently suggested buying some useful items, they reminded me that it had to be things that they thought of as yummy. Eventually, they ended up with $75 worth of snacks, instant beverages and yummy food.

This morning, we brought them downstairs to give their gifts. 

Thank you cards.

Heaving the gift bags down.

Being very shy about wishing him a Merry Christmas.

They turned it into a hide and seek game, running around looking for the various cleaning crew. Though with everyone, they stopped short in front of them shy and blushing furiously. But once they had given the gift, they were all smiles and yelling their blessings and wishes and we went in search of the next person.

I asked Evan what he thought about the whole thing afterward and he said that it was nice to see people smile so widely. And it was nice to know that he could do that for others.

While they are still definitely more focussed on Christmas and its presents; I just threatened to cancel Christmas on account of them misbehaving and their stricken faces were comedic if I hadn't been annoyed, my Christmas wish is that this little gesture would be something they would remember and replicate into a tradition that they would carry on and possibly grow as they get older.

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Conversations with the ballet student

I never had very much luck with ballet exams. I would get sick, my toes would get infected and my toe nails would fall out. Thankfully, Jordan seems to have better luck. She took her Grade 2 exams today. Unlike the previous time she took it, she understood the gravity of the situation and the stress that went along with it.

She's been nervous for the last week and it showed with short tempers, being rougher with her brothers and tantrums and fits about stuff unrelated. But at the same time, she was very amenable to all the extra sessions that the ballet school lined up for them to fine tune the little things.

After she was done and the look of relief had fully flooded her face, I thought to ask her, over lunch, what she thought about the whole experience. After all, she is almost eight year old and extremely astute so she would have lots to say.

What did you dislike most about the whole experience of preparing for the ballet exam?

The hairspray. (The hairspray is something part of any ballet dancer/ school's arsenal. It's industrial strength and the very reason why ballet dancers can be drenched in sweat and on stage for hours nary a hair out of place).

Was there anything that upset you while practising for the exams? 

The teachers yelling at me. It made me want to cry sometimes. Sometimes, it made me want to give up.

Do you think the teachers helped you by yelling at you? 

I guess so. I can remember all my steps and I can do them very well now. But I don't like yelling teachers.

What do you think if the teachers didn't yell so much? 

- with a big grin- I won't be so deaf. 

- becoming serious- I wouldn't be so good. 

What were your favourite steps in the exam? Why?

I liked the dances, especially the character dance with the skirt and flowers. You can look cheeky and proud at the audience when you do it. 

What was the one reminder that everyone kept saying to you that helped you through the exam?  

To smile and to let the music flow to the tips of my fingers and my toes.

What did you do just before you started the exam? 

I looked at my toes then I took a deep breath and tried to smile. It was quite hard because my heart was beating very fast.

What was the most important thing you learnt from taking this exam?

It is very important to have courage.

And what was my take away from this?

1. Kids understand stress, even at this age. They fear performing, making mistakes and failing. They really don't need us to add on any sort of stress onto them. They pretty much do that all by themselves.

2. There is a fine line between keeping the child eating healthy and keeping the child happy. With the many hours at ballet and the amount of time she spent away from home while her brothers vegged out in front of the television, it was about plying her with nice cookies and allowing her to eat the Easter eggs she got to keep her her spirits and mood.

3. While my eyes were fixed and they work pretty well on a day to day basis, the technique wasn't aimed at allowing someone to sew silver buckles that reflect light and black press studs with black thread onto a black waist band at night in yellow lighting.

4. My daughter's a pretty tough cookie.

So while we hope that she does well, just going through it was all worth it.

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The math that adds up

The other reason why we pulled the twins out of the Nazi Chinese school was this.

A friend of mine, Liz,  set up an enrichment centre last year. It's called BlueTree Education. Muffin went there in December for Santa Camp and they all fondly call it Santa School, which has a nice ring to it. Anyway, I've always liked all the stuff that they did there. If ever there was coveting for enrichment classes, this was it. Not because it would explicitly guarantee them good grades but because the classes seemed to framed around the creativity, critical thinking and imagination. All things I believe in. Then Liz asked if the twins wanted to try out their Math programme.

I hedged because the twins have a very packed school week. That and the fact that although an educator, I don't want to buy into the tuition culture more than I have to (the 'I have to' part is the Chinese) . Eventually, my curiosity got the better of me as well as Jordan who has actually been bugging me for Math class, we went to pay Liz a visit one early Saturday morning. Liz doesn't actually teach the class. The class is taught by another ex teacher.

I dropped them off and ducked out, happy to have 90 minutes to do non-kid related things. When I got back to get them, they were chomping on a chocolate chip cookie each and looked extremely disappointed that I was there.

By the time I managed to wrangle them out of the centre I'd blown my 10 minute grace period with parking,

So what did this have anything to do with why we pulled them out of Nazi Chinese School?

1. It showed that enrichment centres/ classes weren't made equal.
2. It showed that classes could be engaging for the children and they could actually want to go to class and have fun there.
3. It showed that there were different ways of teaching children and to build their confidence.
4. It showed that learning didn't have to happen by rote and didn't require beating the child down to do it.

And why I liked the BlueTree Math specifically?
1. They used manipulatives. Both Jordan and Evan are visual learners though Evan is able to do rote a little bit better. But nothing helps them understand the concepts and apply them as manipulatives do. I've always been a big fan of manipulatives and spend a lot of time looking at what to get on Amazon.

2. Math games that teach both speed and accuracy.

3. Not a ridiculous amount of homework but a doable set. On top of that, the homework set they take home is consolidation of what they've done in class. Same sort of questions, different numbers and different levels of difficulty. So there hasn't been excuses of  "I don't know how to do my homework!" and much more willingness to practice. That's also meant they've become more confident with their Math and the positive cycle going on now is nicely self-perpetuating.

4. The teacher is encouraging and affirming of their efforts. Evan used to come out of Nazi Chinese ecstatic. But his ecstasy came from the fact that the 2 hours of torture was over. Evan comes out of class here beaming, telling me what games he's played and how much the teacher encouraged and praised his effort.

5. Jordan, who has always felt that her strength has been in English has become bolder with her Math because  it is explained in a way that she understands and as a result, she gets them right. That makes her dare to try more challenging questions. It makes me smile to see her take on her Math, that she struggled with a little bit more than Evan and it reminds me of this ad about reminding girls that they can be pretty brilliant too.

All good things.

So for now and while they say it's fun and they want to go, we'll let them do Santa School (BlueTree Math) and learn something while they're at it.


 BlueTree Education is very kindly sponsoring the twins' Math class with them for a term. If anyone is keen to try their stuff, they offer free trial classes. I love what they do at English and Current Affairs Club too but for now, the twins need more play time than classes. 

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Muffin bakes cheese buns

It's the 3rd week of the school term and I've finally got enough of my bearings working to actually start baking again for JED. The twins have been going to school with sandwiches, fruit or Pocky. While they don't mind, I'm not quite sure my conscience allows me to let them bring Pocky every day.

So, this morning, I baked. Or rather, Muffin baked. JED all love playing with flour and dough so to Muffin, this was nothing more than an extended play dough session. He saw me get out the flour and asked immediately to play with dough. Since he is soon to be 5, I figured it could be a collaborative effort to bake 40 minute cheese buns.

I prepped all the ingredients and kneaded the dough.

He proceeded to roll, flatten or rather pound the dough and then spooned the cheese onto the dough.  He wanted to seal it together by gathering all the ends and crush it shut.

And that's when I had to step in.

I told him it wasn't a good idea so I pinched it shut and he did the egg wash and the cheese garnishing.

Then we waited.

But what fun he had and how chuffed he was to be able to make cheese buns for Kor Kor. Evan loves, loves, loves cheese and what an act of love on the part of Muffin when he spooned a mountain of cheese onto the dough. When I told him it was too much, he told me that Kor Kor loved cheese and it wasn't too much for Kor Kor.

True that.

10 minutes later the buns came out smelling divine and oozy. Muffin, who had earlier elected to bring Nutella rolls to school (same bread recipe essentially!) changed his mind, took out his Nutella rolls and carefully stuffed an oversized cheese bun into his lunch box.

The only thing I want to right is to get the buns smooth rather than little erupted volcanoes. But that's just me. The little people eating them wouldn't really give two hoots about how it looks. In fact, if it had lava of cheese flowing out from it, Evan would not stop eating it!

Yet another reason to love The Domestic Goddess Wannabe   because a recipe doesn't get anymore dummy proof than a 5 year old succeeding in using it to make cheese buns for his beloved big brother. All in 40 minutes with enough time to shower, change, put said bun into his bag and get onto the school bus!

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We killed a caterpillar; or why we can't have pets

JED found a caterpillar. A teeny tiny one. I don't have photographs of when they first brought it home because it just did.not.occur.to.me.

Anyway, they wanted to keep it and make sure if became a butterfly. So I figured why not. After all, Muffin's perennial favourite book is still The Very Hungry Caterpillar and it seemed like an apt, post test- end of term experiment for them. And it was as short time and as unintrusive as pets came.

They were amazed at how fast the caterpillar grew and how much it ate. Muffin was wondering worriedly when it would get its tummy ache as the Very Hungry Caterpillar did. I was just amazed at how much it pooped.

Then one day it stopped eating, inched up one of the twigs that I had put into the container (thereby reminding me once again that I was in charge of the pet) and stayed still.

And that's how it stayed. And stayed.

We think it's died. That it didn't manage to metamorphise. And that was as far as it got.

Evan feels sorry for it because he always feels bad for anything that suffers. The other two seem to vacillate between hoping that it will emerge and not caring that it's died.

It reinforces my long term mantra of no pets. If we can't even keep a caterpillar long enough to help it become a butterfly, what more the other higher maintenance pets like fish? And like I said, the onus was on me to check if it was okay and to feel the loss of it because it's died.

I'm not traumatised but really, NO. MORE. PETS.

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