What mums want for Mother's Day

Mother's Day is pretty much a commercial thing but since it's around for us to honour and commemorate mothers, I'm going to use it to do just that.

I haven't been a mother all that long. I recently told Muffin when I was filling up a form for him that where it stated "Name of Parent", I once wrote down my own mother's name. Because in my mind, she's the mother. I'm just a kid, playing house.

But I guess, I am a mother, with 3 kids to care for, love and fiercely protect. But the most difficult part of this aspect of my life is not that. That comes naturally, as does the worry and stress about everything from their well-being to something as inconsequential as exams.

So what is the most difficult part? It's protecting myself as a mother. Not just physically and that in itself as tough. The eye bags, the shot memory and the late nights are testament of how I and probably we often forget to look after ourselves physically. But what's even harder is to protect myself emotionally. And I know I speak for more than myself.

Like I say, we love our children fiercely. And for good or for bad, we do everything we can to make sure things work out. But that means laying ourselves vulnerable to attack. The twins do science in school now and they learn about exo-skeletons. One thing they have been able to point out is that exo-skeletons are hard external coverings to protect the soft inner bodies of the animals or insects. Yes, mothers need that too.

We constantly worry whether we are doing right by our children and doing enough for them. We are paranoid enough to worry that we aren't doing enough despite all signs to the contrary. And because that's where we are most insecure, we are also most open to attack. It could be by another mom who is well-meaning, chiding us for not giving our child a particular opportunity to flourish. Then we feel that we are lousy mothers.

It could come in the form of an elder who defends our child when we try to discipline the child thereby eroding our authority or our conviction that we were right in disciplining our child; implying then that they know more about parenting than we do. That's when we feel that we're ineffective as the mother.

Or it could come from someone who, past their own years of parenting has forgotten what it feels like to be in the trenches, waxes lyrical about how easy it was for them to have parented their children and look back with rose tinted hindsight on how fun parenthood was; making us feel like incompetant frauds because we run furiously on the hamster wheel just so that we don't fall off. Then that voice in our head tells us how useless we are as a mother.

Or it could be someone who tells us that despite how established we are professionally and how we spend all our time struggling to keep all the balls up in the air that "No, you can't have everything" and we ought to chuck our life and our profession to stay home so that we could helicopter our children. Because, that's what true mothers do and when we are not home all the time, there are no two ways about it; as with every single jibe against us, we are made to feel that we have utterly failed as a mother. And that's what rips apart that soft inside within us.

So that, is what we have to immunize ourselves against; our confidence as mothers that people around us knowingly or unknowingly erode to make themselves feel better or look better. We always try to do right for our children and we do what we can within those limitations. And for most part, the children thrive when mothers do it that way despite these perceived imperfections.

So my rally call this Mother's Day is not just to honour mums by buying her flowers today and taking her out for a meal but to make it an effort to not judge mums; to encourage us every day as we battle both the outer challenges and inner strife that comes along with motherhood. That way, we help each other create that necessary exo-skeleton against all the world and their criticisms on what we are  obviously doing wrong. That way, we help each other be the best mums we can be. Because at the end of the day, it isn't a contest where only one of us can be the best mum. Just as we want the best for our children, we should also want the best for every mum out there. We are all in the same boat.

Not the Oscars.

Now, that would make a rockin' Mother's Day gift.

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Piano Recital

Jordan has begged for piano lessons over the last few years; we've hedged for a variety of reasons. One, we didn't have a piano. Two, it costs money. Three, she was so over-scheduled we couldn't find time to do it. Four, I didn't have very good memories of piano exams. So we didn't budge for a long time. Jordan kept negotiating, like a dog with a bone and eventually, sometime in April we caved. We borrowed a keyboard and set her up with a piano teacher. The deal was piano lessons but she had to practice each piece 5 times a day and she had to do her theory homework.

And the girl has kept to her end of the bargain. She practised and she conscientiously ran her drills and pieces every day. It paid off because not six months into her lessons, her teacher asked if she wanted to be part of a duet for a recital. Her teacher thought it would be good exposure and it would train her listening and sense of rhythm. So we agreed. She would play the duet with her cousin. But for the entire month of August, she practised on her own. She had to learn her part and be able to play it properly before we got her playing with her cousin. That being said, she did need to practise being in time with someone and her teacher, realising that I had the rudiments of piano playing, deputised me to play her cousin's part.

In the two weeks or so that I played with her, I saw how her ability to count, listen and adjust her speed instinctively improve massively. It got to a point where she played it better than I did and I was the one making the mistakes because I wasn't the one practising it every day and I wasn't the one who had learnt the piece by heart. She would, bless her heart, slow down when I couldn't keep up and count the bars for me when I got lost with the chords. By this last week, both of us had it down pat. I could hear her playing in sync with me and I knew how to make sure that we hit the right bar at the right time.

Today was the recital and she dragged me out of bed early this morning to rehearse one more time before we left the house. I whined about being sleepy and blurry eyed and she told me to stretch my fingers and assured me that she would count for me while I tried to wake up. Once she was sure I was able to play it, even though I was still trying to fully pry my eyes open, she dragged Packrat out of bed to record it on video. Packrat was merciful enough to petition on my behalf that I get bathed and  dressed before videoing it, pointing out that it didn't look so good videoing us with mussed up hair and in our night clothes.



While half awake and playing through half opened eyes, my mind randomly wandered back to an article I had read some weeks back; When Kids Want to Quit and how we could not expect that our kids to stick to their activities forever and that as long as they kept their word and finished what was expected of them, we couldn't expect much more. But what I kept thinking about pertained more to me than to Jordan.

"I remind myself that I was once a quitter myself. Violin, piano, ballet, flute, gymnastics, modern dance – none lasted more than a handful of years. These activities may not have led to Julliard, but they did cement a lifelong love of music and dance. As a semi-professional singer, I rely on the sight-reading ability that I honed at the piano to learn new songs quickly. And I can walk into any exercise class confident that I’ll at least be able to follow the instructor. If my daughters can broaden their horizons and uncover an enjoyable hobby, I’ll consider that a success."

The realisation was that for me, all those years of piano lessons, while not amounting to much except a bunch of ABRSM certificates and still a dismal inability to hear or sing tone, allowed me to be Jordan's stand-in duet partner. It helped that she could play with an adult, whom she could pretty much trust not to botch up so that she could focus on her bit. It helped that there was someone at home to help her get through the difficult parts in her section without having to wait for her lesson with the teacher or get screeched at for getting it wrong. And it helped her become confident enough to play amidst mistakes and be able to adjust for miscounts. It also didn't feel so much like practice for her because it was a "her and Mom' thing and even if it was all I had time to do with her that day, she was happy. It put her in the right frame of mind to go up on stage and play in front of a crowd. It made it fun for her.



That my piano lessons as a child prepared me to be able to do this for my own child, I'll consider that a success. Now to convince my own parents of that my scrawling on the baby grand's keys in permanent marker was part of a larger divine plan

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Beware the mini-me

People always say we have to watch we say in front of the kids. It's all about what they pick up from us and it's not just language.

Everyone says that Jordan is a mini-me. She's got my athletic genes and according to Packrat, my temperament which makes battles with her epic.

But on top of that, she wants to be me. And while I had some vague understanding that our kids always wanted to follow us, she wants to do everything I do or have done. And that's where I have to watch my mouth.

Instance 1:
Some nights ago, we were talking about bed times and I told them that I used to go to bed very early. If you gave me a chance now, I would still go to bed very early. Habits die hard. Anyway, she asked me how I did my homework if I went to sleep so early. Without thinking, I told her that I would go to bed early, wake up at 2 or 3 am and study till 5 before going back to bed.

A few mornings after that, I found books strewn across our coffee table when I woke up. My first instinct was that Packrat, who had had friends over, had not cleared up. On closer inspection, it was Jordan's stuff- some Chinese books, an exercise book and an English dictionary. She announced proudly when she woke up that she had gotten up in the middle of her night and 'studied'. What did she study? According to her, Chinese dictation that she had to memorise, some composition and English stuff. She did this the next night too according to our helper who heard her rustling around in the middle of the night.

When asked, she said she needed to study, like Mommy studied. So Mommy had to step in and tell her that Mommy was 13 years old when she did that and was always exhausted the next day. And she, Jordan, needed more sleep now than time to study.

Instance 2:
In another conversation, we were talking about primary school and I mentioned something about the PSLE and how all 12 year olds took that exam to get into secondary school. I told them that if I had studied harder in primary school (I was a major slacker till P5 when my mother grounded me within an inch of my life), I would have been able to go to the same school many of my friends went to. She then proceeded to ask me what school that was and I told her Raffles. I told her I didn't get in and Mama (their grandmother and my mother) decided that since I didn't study hard enough to get in there, she wasn't going to help me get in and I had to go to whatever school my grades allowed me to.

And the next night, Jordan tells me that she no longer wants to go to Papa's school (She loves Papa's school and has sworn that she wants to go to school there) but wants to go to Raffles because I couldn't go there so that she would go there for me.

Touched as I was, I told her that now that I was older, I knew that it was a good thing I didn't go there and we wouldn't know if she would like it there; that the most important thing was that she was good enough to choose between the different schools rather than be limited by her grades.

Of course, Evan chimed in that he wanted to go to Raffles too and I told him that his future was set for him because his blood, like his father's ran red, blue and gold.

Anyway, much as it is an ego boost that Jordan wants to do everything I did, it's also about remembering that while she's got lots of my DNA in her, she's also her own person and it's only fair if I gave her all the space to be that. On top of that, she's only 7 so I should really shut my mouth because pulling all nighters just to prove that she can be like Mommy is going to stunt her growth.

So, from now on, I don't just have to watch the swear words that might escape my lips,  I have to vet the stories of my childhood before I regale them to JED.

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Definitely our DNA

The twins turn 7 soon and whether we like it or not, they are mirror images of us. They are us in every sense of the word.

They've definitely inherited genetic material from us.

Jordan
Has Packrat's dreaminess.
Has Packrat's artistic genes.
Has my musculature.
Has my kinesthetic inclinations. 

Evan
Has Packrat's slightly introverted nature.
Has Packrat's love for all things geek.
Has my competitiveness
Has my penchant for imagining entire alternate universes.

And recently, they've started to mimic us as well.

Evan's most recent expression is "Oh! For goodness sake!". When I asked him where he had picked it up from, he said "Papa! Papa uses it ALL. THE. TIME."

Jordan hasn't picked up any choice phrases from me though I do a variation of Packrat's "Oh! For goodness sake!" except mine is "Oh! For crying out loud!". Rather, she's picked up tone. She scolds the boys, particularly Muffin, in the exact tone that I use. Right down to the intonation. And she always, always manages to make him cry.

The genetic stuff, we can't quite help. It seems pretty much coded into them regardless of what we do or do not do. But the mimicking, that's something else; though they seem to be parroting us at our most frustrated and therefore least likely to be hold back the tirade.

Well, as a child, I did write in compositions that "I will turn you upside down and wallop you." causing my parents to be called into school and questioned about possible abuse.

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Capturing Faith

The one area that fascinates me with JED is their belief in God. I know their faith is actually a reflection of our faith because they aren't old enough to fully understand God yet but even then, their faith is touching.

We see snippets of it when one of them hurts themselves and the other two (or at least one of the older ones) would pray that 'God takes away the pain.'

They know how to pray for things that matter, like their school to remain open

Of course, we also see them use it for more mercenary purposes like "God, please bring me a pair of binoculars for my birthday."

Recently, there has been a great amount of concern expressed over Satan and how we will know it is Satan since he can take many forms. It took me a long time to explain to them, particularly Evan that while Satan was powerful, God was even more powerful and God was on our side.

He then drew a parallel to the Transformers. God was the leader of the Autobots and Satan was the leader of the Decepticons. Strangely apt.

 And then, there was Jordan who drew God. How wonderful that in all the bright colours and beauty, God was placed in the middle. They seemed to have pretty much hit the nail on its head.

I hope that JED will always have the faith of little children.

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The beauty myth

In case I sounded like I am googly-eyed about having kids in the previous posts and entirely clueless to the challenges and reality of them, I am not. I think that even if they don't read them till much later, I would like, on record some affirmation of why we enjoy them, challenges notwithstanding.

And challenges, there are many.

The biggest challenge with having girls, actually having boys too is to make sure they grow up with a good head on their shoulders. And I'm not talking about academic achievement here.

Packrat and I agree on how we don't want Jordan to grow up focusing on being pretty. As it is, with people telling her that she is 'beautiful' and 'such a princess', she is already very concerned about it. When Muffin swiped her on her face some time back and actually broke skin, it wasn't the pain or the blood that upset her; it was whether or not she was still pretty and whether or not she could get married. Some people think that I am an inherent contradiction because I enjoy the fact that she does pretty things, like ballet and art and I actually insist that she dresses properly. But there is a difference here. With ballet, art and all the pretty things both she and I enjoy, it is about teaching her to appreciate the beauty of it, the beauty of things around her (which has she a great inclination for) and not about her per se. Thankfully, she seems to know that the make up is part of the performance and the make belief.

Many around her love to indulge in her prettiness. Yesterday, she was having a conversation with an adult about her being gorgeous. I asked for her not to be called that. Of course, I got a "WHY?"

I think from Jordan's point of view, it might have sounded as if her mommy didn't think much about how she looked.

Dear Sweetheart, I was in no way saying that you weren't pretty or commenting on your looks.

The reasons why I have an issue with gorgeous which in itself means "dazzingly beautiful" or words like 'beautiful' and 'pretty' are as follows.

1. If she goes away thinking, at 6 that she is 'dazzingly beautiful', what will her standards be when she is 12 or 18 or 24? And even then, should any girl be growing up with aims of becoming even more beautiful? Semantically, it's got to do with the idea of the extreme superlatives so early on. Tangentially, it's got like telling a kid who swipes a paint brush across a canvas that he's Picasso.

2. The constant complimenting of her looks will reinforce 'beauty' as part of her identity. Who is Jordan? She is a pretty girl. The danger of that happening is that one day someone may tell her otherwise and her whole world and self-confidence will crumble around her. While her father and I and her uncles will fight to yank off the head of anyone who says that to her, girls can be mean and there's no stopping what they can say. What we can do is to mediate the amount of damage such things will have on her.

3. Beauty shouldn't be the most important thing to her. I want her to learn what the world sees of her, and I'd be kidding myself if I said that wasn't important, is about carriage, about how she puts herself together and what comes out of her mouth from her brain and heart as well as how it actually comes out.

4. My last reason has got to do with boys and Packrat. Packrat gets panic attacks thinking about Jordan as a teenager. As is, she is disarming and charming and she goes up to everyone and makes friends. He worries about the boys that will come knocking and the fact that Jordan will smile beatifically at them. He wants that to happen as late as possible. And one way that we can think of to delay the inevitable is to teach her that there are other things that are praiseworthy and to bask in. As a teenager, it isn't going to be us or her family that she is going to seek approval from. And she will need to seek affirmation on what she deems as important in her life. Woe is Packrat if she is going to be out there seeking affirmation for beauty because the boys that will give it to her, will be given too much time of day. And that's how boys get invited into the equation.

So, for those reasons and more, we try very hard to debunk the beauty myth with her.

When Jordan posed like this, we told her in no uncertain terms, "no, that's not how you stand for a photograph." Of course, I added that she looked like a North Asian tourist which totally went over her head.

I like what was said in this article about how to talk to girls and I am glad that Jordan does indeed loves books and loves talking about them and drawing parts of them out. I am glad that she has more interests that go beyond just pretty dolls and princesses although they do feature.

Technorati Tags: JED, Bringing Up Girls

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A moral dilemma

When it comes to following rules, JED are all on different pages.

There's Jordan who is very happy to circumvent the rules if she thinks she can get away with it.

There's Evan who is a stickler for the law and will enforce it without question and at all costs.

There's Muffin who will flagrantly violate all rules when it benefits him but will enforce it when it has to do with others.

From a moral standpoint, Evan is the upstanding one. The problem is that will pose a problem socially. Regardless of situation or circumstance, a rule is a rule. It is black and white. There is no bending. Barry Schwartz on TED talks about Practical Wisdom and knowing when to follow the rules and when to choose wisely. We think Evan will have a big struggle trying to strike a balance between the two.

We have told him that 'stupid', 'shut up', 'sexy' and 'wah lau' are words he should not use. So he carries that out and enforces it to a T. He refers to them as the "ST" word, "SH" word, "S" word and the "W" word. I assume that there have been more but those are the ones off the top of his head. He tells off both adults and children for the use of such words. Even when we ask him about the words, he won't say them. It's like being a wizard and muttering the name "Voldermort".

When we told him that there were certain situations where such words were okay,

1. Stupid- if it was used to describe objects (definitely not people).
2. Sexy- when it was used by an adult to describe objects (Packrat was at the point describing a phone that was sexy when the little policeman blew the whistle on him).

Evan's head almost exploded. He was much happier when we told him that "Sexy" and "Wah lau" should never be used by children, to describe children and describe the behaviour of children, he was much happier. 

He is also happy to tattle on anyone who violates the rules. Justice is blind in his six year old eyes. "But Ah Ma used the 's' word on Jordan!". That's when we told him that he could very nicely tell Ah Ma that it wasn't a word that was very nice to describe Jordan with. His tangential response to that was "But I can't pronounce the word 'describe'!"

With Jordan, if her moral compass serves her well (and as parents, we hope it does), her ability to decide when to follow rules and when to bend them will be a good thing. The theory behind that is that we have to trust that she will know how and when to do the right thing rather than just the expected thing. The morally righteous would disagree with me and I wonder about the larger implications of raising her on such a philosophy. It is true that the conservative and the morally strict have it easier in life because everything in their world is black and white. The moral libertarians have it much tougher. Jordan is a moral libertarian.

As for Muffin, we think he's going the way of Evan more than Jordan. He tells on his classmates if someone is misbehaving. He gets very upset when his siblings don't do as told and indignant when he has to and they get away with it. How do we know this? Because he tells us so. But that bit, makes us wonder whether he is just tattling on them so that we will, in his words "Scold Kor Kor Mommy! Scold Che Che Mommy!" But he is wilful and doesn't think twice before disobeying us or our rules.

Right now, it's still a pretty blanket rule in our household. What we say goes. But because of there different outlooks regarding rules, we have to deal with each differently.

For Jordan, we have to explain to her why things are right and wrong and why we ask and expect her to do things in a certain manner.

For Evan, we provide him with exceptions to help him see the world in a few more shades of grey.

For Muffin, right now we just tell him what is right and wrong and we try and explain his black and white world into a little bit of grey. But for him, we're not sure how much he actually gets.

Every day, I understand a little bit better why my parents responded "Beacause I say so" as an answer to us second guessing and questioning them.

Hooking up with Regina's Tuesday's Thoughts:

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Why I Work

I read an article Dear Daughter, Here's Why I Work and I thought I would do the same. People give me guilt about working. Not being home all the time for JED. So here it is, why I still work, for posterity and hopefully, JED will read it one day and understand why there are nights that it is only Packrat that gets them to bed and why on the weekend afternoons, I am never home.

But before I start, I would like to first say that I have utmost respect for Stay At Home Mums for all that they do because I think it requires a very strong constitution to do so.

Anyway, here it goes. 

--

Dear JED,

First up, let me just say that the days that I have to leave the house to go to work and you are home, are the hardest for me. Yet, I do it. I go to work, despite Muffin wailing "Mommy, no go work.", Evan saying " I need you to spend time with me" and Jordan whispering "Mommy, I missed you just now." All 3 comments/ edicts  shatter my heart and make me want to drop everything and hug you tight and not let you go.

So here's 10 reasons why I don't.
1. I start with the most practical. The 3 of you are expensive. The amount of food you consume, your school fees, your gym/ tennis/ ballet/ swimming lessons aren't free. That's not to include the clothes, the toys, the books and the vacations that you want to take.

2. I spent a long time in school and uni and every time your Bob Ah Gong had to pay fees for it, he would say the same thing, "you're a girl, you know? I don't need to educate you so much." That followed with "Are you going to stop work and waste all your education when you have children?" when I got married. So, in a sense, I work because Bob Ah Gong stressed and worried about money for 18 years (I was in school/ uni for a total of 18 years!) and I don't want him to think that it was all for naught.

3. I work because I feel that need to know what is going on out there in the world. It's not just about reading the newspapers but actually being out there working with people, interacting and carving out something that is my own. It also helps me have something to say when Papa comes home. One thing that Papa and I used to do a lot of before you all came along was to talk and chat about our days and what we had read or seen out there. I want to still be able to do that. No doubt, all your shenanigans are the first things to be regaled when he comes back; but after that, it is important that we have other things to connect on as well. We were a couple before you came along and we will be long after you leave and move out. It would be great if we had things to say to one another then too and knew how to do so. 

4. I work because it makes me feel that I do something in my life other than take care of you. There are days when I want to keel over because I am exhausted from driving and picking you up from everywhere and then have to go to work after that; those are the days where I wish I didn't have so much on my plate. But I know that the day will come when you won't need me to drive you around so much. And when that day comes, I want to still be able to fill my days without going stir crazy, dying my hair blue and bugging the beejeezus out of you.

5. I work because it makes my brain feel alive. No offence meant to Splat the Cat, the Gruffalo or the Cranky Bear  but if that and playing My Little Pony with you were all I did all day, I would be very cranky and most possibly take it out on you. Working gives me a chance to be away from you for a while, miss you quite a bit and be happy to see you and happy to hear what you have to say or do when I get back.

6. At the same time, when I am not there with you, I know that you learn to be more independent. You have learnt to call me to ask for permission to do things. You are close to your grandma and grand aunt and have learnt things from them that I couldn't possibly teach you (like sing rhymes in Cantonese). You learn about boundaries and to code switch (You know there are things you can get away with when Grandma and Ee-Por are around and not with us). You can also do things without me if necessary and that makes me most proud.

7. I also know that I am setting an example for all of you by doing this. Mama worked while I was growing up and so did Auntie Threez. And I was always very proud of their accomplishments. Jordan, now that you've seen me go to work but still hang out with you and be there for you most of the time, hopefully, you will feel that you have a choice as well. Evan and Muffin, I hope that by doing this, you will understand why your future wives might want to make the same choice. If they choose not to work, I hope you will support them too though because that's what Papa would have done. Plus, I hope that you guys will be proud of me and of what I do.

8. I work also to teach you and show you that work and loving you are not exclusive things. All around you, in school, on television and even the adults in your presence, the message is that the moms who really love their kids don't go to work but it is okay for papas to do so. I want to teach you that I love you even if I work and actually more so because I do. Your Papa works and his love for you is never questioned, even when you don't see him for a day or for 3 weeks because he's had work overseas.

9. I work because I want to show you, especially Jordan, that motherhood is not the end of things. It's not about trying to get everything out of your system before you have kids and trading one life for another. It's about growing. I work in different ways than I did before you guys came along. I used to sleep early, wake up early, grade papers and go in for a full day's work. Now, I work after you leave for school and in the evenings when Papa is around. On top of that, I actually have JED Packs, something I didn't have before you came along. I want you to see that being a mommy doesn't preclude you from doing other things outside of raising children.

10. Most importantly, I work because I love it. I love the feeling of being in a classroom and opening the eyes of my students to the world. I love teaching them the same things I teach you three about empathy, compassion and integrity. And I love knowing that what I do for them, they carry on with them long after they've left my classroom; and in that way, I've made their lives just that little bit richer.

So here are the reasons why I work. And I am thankful that I have had the ability to decide if I wanted to work or stay home. And I am eternally grateful to have found a job that allows me to be home when you are and at work when you aren't. It wasn't about choosing between you and working. It never was about that. It was about choosing between being your mom at home or being your mom while being able to work.

I love you always.
Mommy

 Technorati Tags: JED, motherhood, FTWM

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Vicarious Living

The twins are obsessing over medals.

They cannot figure out how to get their own.

They fight over the one I had lying around the house (The Stan-Chart one from last year).

In desperation, I take out my box of medals and they ooh, aw and grow quiet.

Jordan: How do you win so many medals?
Mommy: You work very hard and you never give up. Then you get better and sometimes, you get so good, you win a medal.
Evan: When can I win some medals?
Mommy: When you get bigger and when you stick to your swimming and stuff.
Jordan: I'm small now. Can I just have yours?

So, for now, my medals are their medals. Perhaps one day, they will win their own and leave mine alone.

Technorati Tags: JED, growing up

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Looking into the future

Tonight, we tried to convince the twins to sleep on their own because we wanted to go out. After all, as we told them, it was Valentine's Day and Papa wanted to take Mommy on a date.

This led to a conversation about marriage and the twins growing up,  finding their significant others and setting up their own lives.

It was an eye opener.

Jordan.
She wants Mommy to live with her in her rainbow house.
I told her that she had to ask her husband first and there was a possibility of her husband saying no. Her response to that was that she would ask him every day until he said yes. Somehow I believe she is capable of being that doggedly whiney till the poor sod gave in just for his own sanity.

(Of course, Packrat swears that if she chooses to marry someone like her father, aka him, that would never happen)

What surprised us was how genuinely upset she got when we told her that it wouldn't be fair to her brothers if we lived with her and could we please live on our own? She suggested that I would live with her and Packrat would leave with Evan. When I pointed out that it wasn't fair because a) we would be split up b) Muffin wouldn't have anyone stay with him, she burst into tears and quickly spiralled into hiccuping hysterics at the thought of having to lead a life away from us.

On one hand, it was touching that she loved us so much she wanted us to be with her even when she got married. On the other hand, Packrat turned to me and went "This one has got to go for that lesson on Cleave" Cleave is a lesson we teach in marriage preparatory class where the individuals have to face leaving their families and setting up house and family on their own.

As I stroked her head and promised that we would stay over some nights; we told her we would babysit Valentine's Day so that she could go out with her husband, I couldn't help but recall how I went up, not to my parents but to my brother and asked him to come live with us when I moved out. And he very gently told me that if I were moving out on my own, sure. But since I was actually getting married, he couldn't do that.

It's a long ways away and Packrat also promises that she will be singing a different tune twenty years from now but it's interesting to see her 6 year old view of marriage and her relationship with us. When she eventually calmed down, she talked about family and how we should stick together and lived in a rainbow house altogether. While I am heartened that she seems family as the most important unit, I had visions of us staying in a house that resembled candy and the bickering that JED get up to then amplified with spouses, families and old cantankerous parents added to the mix!

Evan. 

Perhaps it was because he was in a good mood tonight and his sister had just dissolved into a puddle of tears, he takes on the more mature role. He tells us that he wants to live in a hotel so that he can spend time with his wife. (ahem!) He tells us that we should also live with him. When we tell him it is physically impossible to split ourselves amongst the JED, he tries to divide the 7 days into sets of 3. He can't and I help him. I tell him that each child gets two days in a week and the one day remaining would be for Packrat and myself to go on a date.  He told me that I had to help him look after Krystal (with a K) and Joshua (My 6 year-old has named his kids). In response, I asked him who he was going to marry. 

His response was that there were 5 girls, all of whom he named but whose identities I shall keep anonymous, and he wasn't going to pick the girls. He was going to get the girls to "scissors, paper, stone, 1 time. Who win, who marry me. " This was said as a matter of fact and it seemed to solve the issue of him needing to pick a partner. When Packrat told him that he didn't have 5 mummies because Papa only loved the one and only Mommy and he didn't need another 4 girls to decide, Evan seemed doubtful. Packrat, on the other hand, just scored a bigger basket of points that any floral bouquet could have, without even having to come up with a single cent. 

 

   
So, in short, I have one daughter who wants us by her side forever and a boy who wants to leave his choice of bride to chance, because he likes all 5 equally and doesn't want the hassle of choosing a mate. The littlest, was fast asleep all through this entire conversation but seeing as he chucks a fit when we don't go anywhere as a complete family unit, I suspect he would be the seconder to Jordan's "Everyone live under the same roof" idea.

I forsee that all the skills we learnt facilitating marriage prepartory classes in church are going to become very useful in the future. All the while, I have to remember that I cannot roll my eyes at my future daughters-in-law, as stipulated by Packrat. 

Technorati Tags: Valentine's Day, Marriage, Children

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Full of sass

It seems a universal truth now that our kids are full of sass. I know my kids are.

Part of me feels that it is slightly rude but part of me marvels at the boldness and ability to express themselves.

Some gems from the last few days that I need to record because they are hilarious.

----
Yesterday, there wasn't school so I took JED out to breakfast.

At breakfast, there was a little girl from their school dressed in uniform. Obviously her parents had forgotten that there was no school today and had got her ready for school only to discover a quiet and empty school premise.

As we walked by, the twins asked her " Don't you know that there isn't school today?"

After I smacked both of them on the back of their heads, I had to apologise to the sheepish looking father.

----
 Last night at Grandma's, their cousin Becca asks if the twins could stay over.

Evan's response to her, " Tomorrow is Saturday. I have plans with my Mommy and Papa."

Thought bubble in my head, "5 year olds have plans?"

----
Jordan knows that the rule in the house is that she doesn't get nail polish on her nails till she is 18.

Conversation she then has with Mommy out of the blue.
Jordan: Mommy, next time when my daughter is 6 years old and she wants nail polish, I will tell her yes, ok? Because nail polish is pretty.

Using the third person to make her point clear. .

----

Even little Muffin has learnt sass.

He hears a noise as he is about to fall asleep. He says he is scared.

Mommy: It's ok. It's like when you drop a ball and the people downstairs can hear it.
Muffin: We drop ball. Wake up downstairs people now?

----

I have to admit that we as parents, sass each other quite a bit so I suppose they take after us.

I guess we just have to teach them to say it out of ear shot and the subtlety to go with all that sass.

 Technorati Tags: sass, children

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Teachers make terrible mothers

One of my pet peeves, as a teacher, is bad handwriting. We mark essays 100 at a go and it is, for the want of a better word, exhausting. What makes it even worse is bad handwriting. When faced with one of those, at the end of a long day, it is akin to the straw that broke the camel's back.

Jordan came back with some work already done. It was all correct but it was written terribly. I saw it at night, after Jordan had fallen asleep. But it bugged me through the night. The next morning, I showed it to her and whipped out an eraser and cleaned off everything, having her do it again.

Of course, she argued that it had already been done and it was all correct so why did she have to do it again? I used it to explain to her the things my mother explained to me; that any work I did had to be to the best of my ability and it wasn't about just getting it done, but to actually get it done properly. All those things that didn't mean anything at that point but must have ingrained themselves into my sub conscience only to be brought to surface when I became a teacher and then now, as I parent school going children.

That said, Jordan has beautiful penmanship. It is the other reason why she got told off; because her handwriting was messy, it was slip shod and she thought it didn't matter.

Unfortunately for her, I am a teacher and I wouldn't want her,  Evan or Muffin for that matter, to contribute to any teacher's angst.

 Technorati Tags: twins, teachers, teacher peeves

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Crazy Mom post: No Crocs for God

I teach 17- 18 year olds outside the school environment and it has occurred to me their choice of clothes, outside of their uniform is a school related t-shirt and FBT shorts and flip flops. The ones who worry that it would be too cold appear in school related t-shirts and jeans.

This bugs me. I never thought a lot about it but I realised recently that it bugged the heck out of me. It bugged me that these kids, who were often privilleged kids came dressed as if they were going to PE.

Then, on a Sunday, while rushing out to church, I realised, somewhat thunderously, that the children were donning Crocs to church. Despite being late, I force-marched them home to change to proper shoes, amidst great complaining. "But I have to wear socks!" "But it is hot!" "But my other shoes don't have lights on them!".

I know many mums would say, as long as they are covered, it's no big deal what they wear. Packrat probably doesn't bother and just indulges in my being particular because it is harder to fight 'the other battle.'

So why? Why be proper?

If I thought about it, two influences in my life have led me to this point. My mother, who insisted that if God was supposed to be a bigger deal than the president of a country and we would dress up real nice to go see the president or the queen, what more God? Also, that's where the phrase "Sunday Best" originated from. Being dressed decently to go to church.

Then there was school. I spent four years in a school that insisted that we had to be dressed properly in uniform even if we were going to school for activities. And after the activities, we had to change back to uniform to go home. PE clothes were only meant to be worn in the field and not many other places. Woe was the girl, caught in the middle of town (we weren't allowed to be in town in uniform unless we were with out parents!) in PE gear.

So these are the two reasons why I am 'stuffy' about what the children wear out. Packrat gazed in amazement one day when I went on an unprovoked rant about how our kids will not be seen in school t-shirts and PE shorts anywhere outside of the school and even if they were going to tuition, proper footwear was required.

So what are my clothes rules?
1. No Crocs to church. Church means proper socks and shoes.

2. Same goes for celebratory meals; especially dinner and dinner at restaurants. Collared shirts for the boys, socks and decent shoes and for Jordan, a frock and decent shoes and socks.
3. There are at home clothes and various types of going out clothes so they have no excuse to not be dressed decently, even if it is to go to Grandma's house which is 5 minutes away.
4. Conversely, if Jordan decides to be prissy and wants to go to swimming dressed in her party shoes, she will be eye-balled till she changes to slippers or Crocs.

5. Pyjamas, especially if they are out late at homes of friends cannot be a crude mixture of whatever clothes get blindly pulled out of the cupboard. Pyjamas in such situations have to be matching.

Am I crazy? Perhaps. Am I being too uptight? Most probably.

What can I say? I was the six year old who refused to go to a particular primary school because the school uniform had dots on it!

Technorati Tags: pre-schoolers, Clothes

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Our Christmas Wish

This isn't supposed to be the next post after Day 3 in Phuket. But as they say in the movies, "We interrupt this programme for a breaking news story..."

Not really a breaking news story, but something worthy.

It's Christmas. The reason why I haven't posted Day 4 of our Phuket Adventures is because it's been crazy trying to settle Christmas shopping and the general year-end craziness. It is constantly at the back of mind, that Day 4 remains unpublished. But it has to wait a day longer because I think this is a more important post to write or rather link.

One of my dear dear friends, S whom I admire greatly because she is the quintessential supermom  intent on raising her kids right. Not in the book smart, hot housed way but in the Proverbs 22:6 way "Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it." S is teaching her daughter and will teach her baby son, to be God-fearing and empathetic, kind and helpful to those around them. Values that sometimes get ignored in the other more localized and literal interpretation of training up a child.

Anyway, for Christmas this year, S and her daughter, Faith decided to make snow globes out of old baby food jars. When they completed them, more beautifully than I could ever do, Faith decided she was going to sell them; not to fund her own Christmas presents but to give it to a children's home so that the children there could have Christmas presents.

JEDPacks is supporting her and matching every dollar she makes and adding to the contribution the home will get from her because it is a great thing for a 5 year old to think beyond herself and we want to affirm her every step of the way. It is also the same message we are trying to send out to JED. 

This is Jordan, with Faith at their recent ballet recital. Both of them are supposed to be corn in the field. Such sweet corn!

So if you would like to support little Faith's first social cause, please pop over to JEDPacks to find out more about The True Meaning of Christmas and help Faith and JEDPacks bring a bright smile to the children at the home.

... We will now return to our regular scheduled programming *white noise crackle and pop*....
 

Technorati Tags: Christmas, Helping Others, Singapore

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Nemo, found.

Packrat generally abhors Sentosa. It's too artificial, too crass and too crowded. We have never stayed at Resorts World and now with the whole dolphin mania there, I have reason to join him in his reluctance.

But JED do not have our hang ups. They see genuine enjoyment in some of the places around Sentosa. I got dragged there when Packrat was away because they wanted to go the the Butterfly Park and Insect Kingdom. I didn't have fun looking at creepy crawlies pinned and preserved but Evan thought it was great. Jordan just wanted the butterflies to land on her hand. That was enough Sentosa for me for a while but evidently, they didn't feel that way.

We went back yesterday, with Muffin and grandma. Thankfully, no insects. Evan's obsession has moved on to rays. Not UV rays but sting rays, eagle rays, manta rays and every other ray, part of the family. Coincidentally, the Underwater World was running a promotion. $15 for an adult and a child or a senior gets in for free. So for $45, 6 of us entered the Underwater world. I remarked while parking, because parking was per 3 hour blocks that it wouldn't be worthwhile unless we had lunch there. Packrat assured me that we would not have a problem spending 3 hours in the aquarium.

He was right.

Evan was once again in heaven. Whatever the aquarium lacked in terms of size, they made up in the sheer number of rays and sharks. He looped the under water passage about 5 times, not one bit fazed that the glass tunnel could have a dizzying effect on visitors. We stepped off after the third round, slightly green and disoriented and were happy to stand at strategic points to keep an eye on him.

Even the photo is slightly green, reflecting how we felt. 

Jordan, the ever tactile person loved the ray pool where you could put your hand in and stroke the gentle rays as they swam by. Once they figured that someone was playing with them, they flapped and splashed the side of the wall, thrilling her to bits. For half an hour, she cajoled and coaxed the rays to her, first with a $3 tub of cut fish that could be fed to them, then with just the scent of the fish and eventually, from sheer tenacity as she stuck her hand in there for so long that the rays thought she was part of the scenery and became comfortable with her.

Muffin was happy just shrieking at every fish that looked like Dory, his knowledge of fish coming from Disney or Pixar movies. Sharks awed him as well as splashing water in the ray or sea star tank. His arms weren't long enough to reach the marine creatures.

We loved that they were so engaged and so entertained. We loved that they were so excited and were vibrating on the spot.

Was there anything that we didn't love?

Yes. We couldn't figure out how despite the fact that we were there for under 3 hours, we got charged more than the 3 hour parking and the amount did not make sense.

We also didn't like the fact that the first thing we saw on our way in was the dolphin and sea lion show. While I haven't been the most vocal about the new marine park and the plight of the dolphins, I have never been able to bear any of the suffering of dolphins, sharks, seals and every other creature that has suffered from our excesses. So I squirmed a lot as we sat through the show and I tried to talk to the older of JED about how dolphins and the sea lions belonged in the ocean or Pier 39. They don't understand it totally but hopefully they will one day.

In all though, it was a great day and I don't often do reviews of places because enough mums out there do it, but this is different. It really was a great success with them and they still talk about it (Evan), draw it (Jordan) and insist on watching Finding Nemo (Muffin).

Technorati Tags: pre-schoolers, Sentosa, Underwater World

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Running on Experience

I agreed to the impossible a couple of months ago. I agreed to run the quarter marathon for the Stan Chart Singapore Marathon that is tomorrow. It was against my better judgement. The better judgement that said that I would not be able to find time to train. The better judgement that said that my shot out knees wouldn't be able to take it. But yet, I agreed because Packrat wanted to do it.

And I was right. I haven't run in at least a month. And even before that, if I could run once a week, that was considered a good week.

Compare this to the last time I ran the quarter. Then, I was running 20-30 km a week, the menisci in my knees were still intact and I hadn't had 3 kids and I was under 30 years old.

So, I am a little bit worried about tomorrow.

My mind tells me that it should be okay. I could walk if I were tired. I can take it easy. I can run it based on experience.

That is all possible.

But when I told my friend Sha, who was with me all through the 6 years that I ran competitively, she laughed. She didn't believe that I was capable of taking it easy. She thought that I would kill myself trying to clock a good time because it was written in my DNA and because that was what was drilled into my head in the most formative six years of my lie. In short, I am not wired to take it easy even if the body isn't willing.

So to make it as easy as possible, I have
1. Eaten pasta for dinner (carbs loading)
2. Taken glucosamine everyday this week
3. Taken out a new running top to run with
4. Bought bananas. (Prevents cramping)

I will also drink copious amounts water and go to bed after posting this. I do have to get up at 5.15 tomorrow morning and pretend to eat some breakfast. 


Technorati Tags: Stan Chart Marathon

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In search for the perfect Banh Mi.

When JED are on vacation, it also means that Packrat is on vacation. And when Packrat is on vacation, he makes it a point to spirit us away without the kids. After the fiasco of the last vacation, I was more hesitant to travel and more laden with guilt. Mommy guilt is irrational. But he would not hear of it and here we are, in a divine resort in Danang, Vietnam.

It has been idyllic and one of our first vacations where we have done nothing but look for food (I put on 2 kgs in a day and a half! Who puts a weighing scale in the bathroom of a resort?!) and spa (spa treatments are included into the room rate and you can have as many as you can fit into the day).

To date and we have been here 3 days, we have had close to 15 bowls of pho between the both of us. Some better than others. The best being a hole in a wall in Hoi An where the waitress wore an iPho t-shirt and her eyes bugged when we order seconds.

But what has almost completely eluded us is the perfect Banh Mi; the Vietnamese baguette which is street food and supposedly ubiquitous. It hasn't been as ubiquitous as it sounds. When we do find it, it doesn't have the all important radish. Or when it did have the all important radish, the bread was stale. At breakfast, the baguettes were fresh but there wasn't anything else.

The best we found was in Hoi An, where apparently Anthony Bourdain ate. It was hefty, it had a good amount of pickled radish and carrot and the all important, unnameable meat. The problem was that by the time we found it, I had had 3 bowls of pho, some rice paper rolls and a plate of Com Ga (chicken rice) so Packrat had it and raved about it as I stood on the side and belched sulkily; knowing full well that if I took another bite of food, I would throw up all over.

                        

We shouldn't have to go so far out to find Banh Mi. Today, we will attempt Danang itself. All of them are sold out of carts and that makes me slightly nervous. Packrat's theory is, buy it back to the room so that if we need to be sick, we have clean toilets to be sick in!

And since it's Friday and I been wanting to link up DinoMama's Food Fridays.. here it is!

Technorati Tags: Couple Time,Fusion Maia, Danang, food

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Ohana means family

One reason that constantly keeps us from uprooting and moving to a country much less stressful, cooler and with cleaner air is family. Packrat and I both believe that our families are important and moving would never be permanent unless we could move the maters with us. Now that we have children, that message is all the more important so that the children get wind of it.

Packrat believes very strongly in us modeling behaviour for our children. Why demand something from them if we can't do it ourselves? On top of that, we believe in setting up family traditions so that our kids will know what is important to us and hopefully bring it into their own families in the future. As is, they are beginning to figure it out. Both Jordan and Evan demand that where ever we go, we go as a family. Their greatest moments of joy are when all five of us are squashed in our bed and we're fighting for space to sleep. Muffin gets hysterical if one of us isn't present even if it is just getting into the lift. He also insists on holding both Packrat and my hand when he walks.

So some of the things that we do so that our kids will learn that family and grandparents are important people in their lives.
1. On the weekend, we kill ourselves getting from one house to another to share meals. And it is a half an hour drive sometimes for just a one and a half hour visit. If we can't go to the grandparents, we bring the grandparents to us.
2. We try to take vacations with the grandparents. That way, they are in a good mood and can spend time with the grandparents who are also chilled and in a good mood. 
3. We have meals with the children's great-grandfather, Tai Gong, even when the wanderlust grandparents are away, even if he already has had his cup noodles and wants to snooze.
4. We get the children to say hello to them, loudly for my hearing impaired father, goodbye and big hugs and kisses.
5. We celebrate their birthdays with them in a big way. The children get to pick out the cake, stick in the candles, make cards, bring presents, the whole works.

And we see even the gruffest of grandparents unbend under the smothering, joyful attention of the grandchildren. My father is not only deaf, he is grumpy and impatient with any sort of loud kiddish misbehaviour. But he allows his grandson to clamour all over him and his other grandson to sit on his lap and regale tales of cars, trucks and spaceships, even if he can't quite hear what the boy is saying.  It brings us joy to see it and I can only hope that it brings them joy as well.

Today is Packrat's mom's birthday. We celebrated it on Sunday. But I think it would be sucky if people didn't remember my real birthday just because I had a luncheon a few days ago to celebrate it. So, I got the children going. Every bone in my body screamed to not do anything this morning (I think I am either coming down with something or am just vibrating at an extremely extremely low frequency today). Anyway, I took a deep breath, hustled them out of the house to the nearby flower wholesaler. My plan was to buy a bunch of flowers, a vase and bring it over to Grandma's. But apparently, the wholesaler hasn't sold fresh cut bunches in years. Only pots of garden plants. That would do. Orchids, though not the newly christened Wills and Kate ones and off to Grandma's by way of dropping Muffin at school. 

Grandma could not stop grinning as the twins jointly hauled the pot of orchids into the house for her while hollering Happy Birthday. I think they made her day. She showed Tai Gong the flowers and proudly placed on in the middle of the dining table. She beamed. The twins beamed. I breathed and then hurried them off back into the car to go home to catch the school bus. Mission accomplished.

I wasn't all that close to my grandparents although I lived with both grandmas at one point or other in my life. Even then, I remember seeing my mother make the effort to visit the one we weren't living with, always going armed with tea snacks and me in the back seat. I now know why and I hope that it is something the children will also pick up from what we have done.

But for now, I want to curl up in the corner and just phase out from the morning's activity before resuming my parenting duties in an hour's time.

 Technorati Tags: pre-schoolers, grandparents

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