Son over Daughter

There are times when I would secretly prefer having son over daughter. Today, happens to be one of those.

I know it is making me sound like a real asshole for saying that; as though I came from the ancient era where boys were once treasured, and girls were trashed. But before you judge me, or let the feminists burn me alive, let me put things into perspectives.

We had a normal Sunday morning, where my helper would bring my two kids to the playground (within our condo's compound) while I stayed in bed for as long as I possibly can. Then my kids came home and talked about the great time they had with their friends at the playground. They cleaned themselves up, had lunch, my son showered.. and up until this point, our Sunday was as uneventful as any Sunday.

Then, it was my daughter's turn to shower. She went in briefly and came out of the bathroom, then she turned our world upside down when she told us her private part was bleeding!

She can't be menstruating, she isn't even six! I screamed in my head.

I laid her down and checked her and was shocked to find a cut on her delicate part, near her you-know-where. I asked her how she got the cut, she told me she fell down at the playground. I checked the rest of her body and couldn't find any bruises or cuts anywhere else. Panic infested me at that instant.

We (hubby and I) decided to bring her to the GP near our house. After a short wait, I got into the consultation room with my daughter, I told the GP what I had found on her private area, he listened and looked thoughtful. The male GP barely examined my shrieking daughter, who was bleeding and was in pain. Then he told me awkwardly that he didn't find her bleeding wound consistent with injury that would have resulted from a simple fall. He tried to probe about our family background with so much uneasiness exhibiting all over his face, he was making me super nervous. Finally, he let it out.

He told me, he wouldn't charge us the consultation fee, because his clinic wasn't equip with any sexual assault diagnostic kit, he suggested that we make a trip to a hospital instead.

SEXUAL ASSAULT!!! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???

I had wanted to throw up, but I didn't. I composed myself, exit the GP's office. I got my husband, but didn't tell him what the GP told me, but made him drove us straight to KK Children's and Women's Hospital.

Throughout the journey, my mind was in a whirlpool. I was fighting those dark thoughts that had gathered like rain clouds over my head.

I pig-out on a carbo-rich meal; played games on my mobile phone to distract myself, while we waited for our turn to see a doctor. It wasn't long before it was our turn, but the short wait was unbearable for me, and perhaps me alone.

I told the KK's doctor that our GP had wanted us to be here because he found the cut on my daughter's private part inconsistent with injury that would normally be sustained from a fall. And I just didn't want to go any further. So the doctor checked on her and asked her numerous questions, then the doctor got another more senior doctor to come in.

After a thorough examination, the senior doctor finally lifted those heavy rocks from my chest when she announced that the cut was most likely to be a straddle injury - injury to the genital area by falling astride a blunt object. There wasn't any signs of sexual abuse.

It almost felt as though I had died and was brought back to life! And now, I really wanted to slaughter that GP!

Lesson learnt. Go to a GP only if you wanted to get nothing more than a MC, for other reasons, consult a professional!

Next, where the hell can I enroll my daughter to a self-defence class, no, better a class that would teach her how to yank out the balls of any men who would dare touch her inappropriately?

Why Family Vacations are Important

We had just returned from our much anticipated family vacation not too long ago. We had been planning this since the beginning of the year!

Family vacation like this never fail to stress me out. Maybe I have too much expectations of myself and my kids. I really should learn to let go and chill out.

I know some parents are reluctant to bring their children along when they go on a vacation. Some couldn't be bothered because they believe that children would not retain the memories of the trip when they grow up. Some just aren't game enough to take up the challenge to bring along their kids.

I love my kids (even though they drive me nuts!) and I want to bring them to see the world! Yes, it's going to be a lot of hassle bringing little children around. We did it and will keep doing it, even if it means that I will have sleepless nights days before the trip and will be more tired than a dog during the trip.

But... look at these.

Don't you think it's just worth all the troubles seeing their precious smiles?

It maybe be true that my kids are not going to remember everything that happened during our trip, but I do. The memories are for me, because they are not going to stay little forever. One day, they will become independent and leave home to form their own families, and then all these pictures and memories will be all I have of them, to keep and hold on forever.

Bad Mom

Like most mothers, who started out pure and simple, we just want to be the best mom for our child/ children. You had probably tried to read countless books and articles that you could get your hands on, and had lots of advice on how to raise your children. At the beginning, you were convinced that you're never going down that lane, becoming who your own mother used to be. You are going to be different. To be better.

Believe me, I was once all that too. Then, in a few years’ time, reality served.

Too many moments, I found myself doing things that I am too ashamed to admit or raising my voice, saying THE MOST awful things that any good mothers would disapprove of.

“Shut up and do it because I am your mother!” “Stop it or I will make you regrets this.”

It was as if I was this third party, seeing this terrible parent who couldn’t control herself whenever she was being challenged. I rolled my eyes at myself and got insanely livid and disgusted for being me.

At times, my urge to control or just to make a stupid point pushes me back into being a juvenile. Perhaps, I am desperate to put my child in the role of an adult. And for what? To compensate my desire to have made all the wrong things right? Or am I trying to avoid confronting my improbable fear as my children approach the age when I lost that only chance to grow up in a proper family. I don’t know and it frustrates me even further.

I find it especially hard to analyze battles nowadays; which are the ones to fight, and which are the ones to walk away from. And I just take them all up. Gone were the days when it was just discipline, now being in control is often just the beginning of the path that propels me to issue more threats, let out more screams, and dish out more punishments. These have been emotionally crippling me. Regardless of winning or losing the battles, it made me feel like a complete failure, because I know very well that I had absolutely crossed that line. I had morbidly transformed into the bad mom that I swore I would never become.

I really don’t need someone to point that out to me because I know it better. And you have no idea how much that guilt is killing me.

Maybe I shouldn't be too bothered if my children are healthy, well-behaved or if they will perform well in school. Or worry if they will grow up righteous and successful. Perhaps I should simply conform, be like the millions of moms out there; just throw my kids some damn Ipad or gadgets and just get on with life, the easier way out. Or had I just leave my kids to my helper or let myself to heard from time to time, I might have prevented all these menaces. I don't know what's right any more. My intent which started out looking quite noble had took on such an ugly turn.

Being nine months pregnant and giving birth to my children don’t automatically grant me the know-how to be someone’s mom. And more so, when the balance of being firm and overbearing becomes blurred with the juggling of multiple roles that I wasn’t trained or prepared myself for. And I definitely didn't have the mommy’s qualities bestowed upon me when my children came along. The more I tried to be perfect, the more I struggled.

You probably think that I am looking for excuses for being who I have become, but you are not me, you have not walked a mile in my shoes.

So, I hugged my daughter who was lying stiffly in her bed. I cried and I apologized for screwing our life up. There was some hesitance it was almost like she was contemplating my motives because I always get mad when I find them not sleeping. Then suddenly, she threw her arms around me and sobbed, saying, “It’s OK, Mommy. It’s OK, really. I still love you…”

And this bad mom was forgiven. The uncompromising love, innocence and the magnanimousness of a child that will put any grown-up to shame.

My Parenting Styles

My kids are 3.5 and 5.5, and they are really great kids! They love to go to school; I never had any problem with them attending full day childcare from day one. They eat whatever vegetables and fruits gladly, I never had to shove greens down their throats or force them to eat healthily. They shower and brush their own teeth before going to sleep on their own, leaving me time to watch TV or surf net. Every morning, they wake up on their own without the use of alarm clock, regardless of which day it is or where they might be. More than half the time, they are well-behaved and sensible. And all this while we do this without canning, spanking or smacking. Just a little screaming... Ok, some screaming.

If you are going to comment that I am lucky, well, maybe a little, but you are so going to need an awful lot of luck if you want to have well-behaved children without some form of effective parenting.

So what's our secret? A magic potion or a charm? No, we didn't do drugs.

The word is RULES!

I tell my children that every country has their governors and their laws. Well, in this household, I am the governor and I make the rules!

Rule #1 - Always listen to your parents.

Rule #2 - You will always follow the daily routine that has been set. Example: Wake up, Clean up, Eat Breakfast etc.

Rule #3 - Do not use tantrums, threats or violence. They will not get you anywhere or anything. Oh, actually, they do, they get you punishments (time-out).

Rule #4 - Meals are to be consumed seated in the dinning room. If you do not want to finish your food, I respect your decision, but no other food will be provided to you until your next meal.

Rule #5- The use of TV, Internet, Ipad, mobile phones are restricted to a maximum of 1 hour per day as a total. Permission must be obtained. Usage can, and will, be denied subjected to your behaviour.

Rule #6 - No entertainment of any form can be access until all necessary work are completed.

Rule #7 - When your parents say "No", you do not seek out another adult. See Rule #1.

Consequence: You will be punished (with time-out) if you are defiant or when you break the rules deliberately. The length of punishment is varied in accordance to your behaviour. 


I know what you are thinking. With all these rules and punishments, won't my kids be repressed and feeling miserable?

Well, my kids know that I am strict, my decisions are firm and usual final, and I give in to no nonsense, but above that I love them and I love them hard. They turned out to be well-adjusted, resilient, energetic and happy.

Don't they ever misbehaved? Yes, of course they do. Come on, they are just kids, they do have their 'moments' at times. Some 'stress-relieving' tantrums had to be thrown, then they just had to be thrown. But the key is to show them that we are consistent and principled and for that, I am very fortunate to have my husband sharing the same vision and parenting goals with me.

I am nothing close to a Tiger Mom, but I will never allow my kids to demonstrate behaviours suggesting that I am an ineffective parent. All I can say is, I love my children, but I have never been so much of a kid-loving person and I happened to have zero tolerance of kids who behaved as though they are the fucking kings or queens.

The Good, The Bad and The Terrible Life of a Parent

I am not the most patient and loving mother out there, and I am also quick-tempered and gets cranky whenever it's the time of the month. Hence, often, there would be clashes of the titans at home, starring myself and my barely 6, going 16, years old daughter.

In the recent months, my daughter has been pushing my buttons all over the places; by getting distracted when I was trying to teach her spellings, ignoring my instructions, getting herself upset over the most trivial matters, refusing to accept punishment when she misbehaved. I could go on, but I won't want to, because she can be the sweetest and the most adorable creature at times.

Last month, she made me a little book for Mother's Day. I am not the type of mom who keep stuff made by my kids and become all mushy and sentimental. I always tell them to give me money whenever possible. But this little book was special!

It was written and drawn by my daughter, titled "Ten Things I Love About You!". Actually, I counted, it was lesser. Maybe, she ran out of good things to write about me. Hahaha...

Here are some very interesting pages.

She actually remembered I drove her to KK Hospital in the middle of the night when she had a fever that refused to go away. I almost never let any of my helpers look after my children in the night, and especially when they fall sick. Even though I might have work the next day, my hubby and I will insist to look after our own children. 

I suck at teaching Maths, and most of the academic subjects because I am simply too impatient. But I make it up by imparting moral education to her. When she fights with her brother to be the first one to have her story read, I will ask her, "Is it more important to be first or to be good?". When she gets upset over petty matters, I leave her alone completely, until she calms down, then I ask her, "Did you see that only YOU have the power to control how YOU want to feel?"

When I saw this next page, I choked. I tasted bile in my mouth and my eyes burned. 

There was one day, I was driving her to school and we got into a massive fight, we were screaming at each other in the car. She refused to stop, I couldn't concentrate to drive any further. So I pulled over, and warned her about the possible consequences... but she just got worst and I spiralled totally out of hand. I whacked her across the cheeks. She cried, I cried. It was horrible!

Later that evening, she came home from school and apologized to me. We made up, but I guess, both of us could never forget that terrible day.

Why do kids have to be such devils at times and angels the next moment? My kids drive me insane sometimes. I admit, it can be extremely exhausting to be a parent, but I can never live a life without my children. Sigh.

Where has my baby gone?

I found this video in my old camera. It was Mr. Hubby giving Leonitus a bathe when he was only a few days old. The memories it brought back was priceless!

In a blink of an eye, it had been more than three years since my baby boy was born. These three years were nothing short of magical, I have been blessed with so much love I never knew I would experience since it wasn't the first time I was having a baby.

In the beginning, Leonitus wasn't quite like many babies, smelling all nice and powdery, in fact he smelt a little bit, ok, I admit, very rancid, almost like some oily hair that hadn't wash for days! But I would sniff him and secretly enjoyed his very unique stench! That's love! OK!

He was the best baby ever, so easy to handle, too easy that I hasn't been able to lose much of those pounds I piled up for my pregnancy even up until now! I love to have Leonitus snuggling up to me when he sleeps and make soft snores that is so soothing to listen to. He rarely cried as a baby and was always cheery; he was such a sweet little bundle of joy.

Now that my cheeky monkey has turned three, he is leaving behind babyhood. As a result, he is becoming more resistant to my endless need to cuddle and finding my request to have kisses a little too many. Watching him grows bigger and heavier everyday, I am so going to miss those times where I could hug him tightly and carry him on my hips.

I can never get tired of hearing him say, "I love Mama." when I question who does he love the most. When I pressed on and ask, "How much do you love me?" He will hold up all his fingers and start counting, "1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10...TEN! I love Mama ten!"

Deep down, I know a day will come when that answer would not be "Mama" any more. Maybe it will be "Marilyn" or "Megan" or "Margaret", but that will be alright, because I, his Mama, will always be the first woman my baby loves.

Cherish every single moment you have with your children, for you can never ever turn back time to have them in your arms again. 

Reconnect

Sibling bond is possibly the most complicated emotions among young children - they love and hate each other at the same time. Although sibling rivalry is not an everyday scene in my home, my children certainly play a huge part in bringing out the worst in each other, especially when they spent a significant amount of time together.

I can't remember when exactly it started, but I do know it was shortly after Leonitus metamorphosed into a challenging two years old. My relationship with my daughter took on a different chapter. I had diverted majority of my attention at my two years old and had slowly, but surely, detached myself from my elder daughter.

Even at such a tender, my daughter seems to have a grasp of the circumstances within our family and had evaluated her role to play. She began to make some conscious choices. She assigned Leonitus to me and herself to her father. Whenever possible, she would 'remind me' that my 'disloyalty' to her has a price to pay by choosing her father over me, in an openly manner.

I wish I could say, it hadn't affect me, but I can't. For months, things would look fine on the surface, when there was an unspoken discord brewing inside me, which eventually led me to force myself to give more attention to my little girl. I was trying to focus on her, but it seemed all wrong, when all I could see was her negative side. 

The more conflicted I felt, the more I found myself yelling at my kids and punishing them. I had to even admit that some of my demands of them weren't quite reasonable nor age-appropriate. For my daughter, the sensitive one, of my two, her feelings were wounded. 

By reining her in so tightly, I was pushing her further away from me. There will be times, I wanted to hug her close, like I used to, but there was so much guilt in me, that I was afraid to do it without appearing hypocritical. My invisible inner turmoil, that nobody knew, was wrecking the bond I shared with my daughter.

Just when everything already looked so gloom, my little girl fell sick on my birthday. It was some viral fever that kept her down for close to a week.

During which, we got to spend some time together, without my two years old, or her daddy, just the two of us. She was not her usual hyper and chatty self, which made it easier for me to see her in a different light, and to have a chance to reconnect with her on an emotional level. With the thought of her burning at an unusually high temperature, my facade crumbled away and my maternally compassion took over.

As I stared at her sleeping, a sudden profound thought hit me. I took a good and honest look at myself; my tears welled up. I had allowed this monster in my head to rule me. My imaginary fear of favouring one child over another had stressed me up and made me impatient. I was harbouring unrealistic expectation of my girl; for I wanted her to grow up in a haste and understand that I did what I had to do for the good of her and her brother. I wasn't allowing her to mature in her own span of time. My crazy pursuit of that perfect daughter had suffocated our relationship. The problem has always been me, never her.

It's time I let go of the rein that I had been holding on so tightly. It's more important for me to be able to look her in the eyes and tell her that I love her no lesser than her brother or anybody else, than for her to understand what my words truly mean. 

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Being The Solo Mum

"Knock.. knock.. knock.." I was deported back from my dreamland by the sound from my bedroom door.

"M'am.. M'am.. I am going out now.." My helper announced.

"Ehhh...O...K..." I groaned, dragging myself out of my bed to open the door. My two kids shoved me aside and dashed into my chilly room, screaming, "Yeah!!! We are in ice land!" While my helper happily waved goodbye and left us to enjoy her day off.

I glanced at the clock beside my bed. It was barely 9am on a Sunday morning. Mr Hubby was already nowhere to be seen, he had left early that morning for his full-day class. I was alone to care for my two boisterous kids; getting them lunch and bathe, doing marketing and bringing my eldest to art lesson, with absolutely no help whatsoever. I find myself groaning again, as I ran the mental checklist in my head.

I crawled back onto my bed, while my children hijacked my pillows and blankets to build an imaginary castle on their mattress and then tried to take over my bed as their trampoline. I had to bring them out of the house to defuse their energies or risk going insane stuck at home with them attempting to turn my room up side down. So I declared, "Keep all the toys now, we are going out!"

It took quite a while, and thrown in a little bit of persuading, yelling and warning, the toys finally went back to where they belong and my children changed and got themselves ready, on their own. I drove us to Junction 10 to pick up some groceries and promised them a good lunch if they behave themselves. Laetitia (my 5YO) stepped up and helped ran errands like bringing the vegetables to the counter to get them weighed and priced, while Leonitus (my 3YO) helped to select some string beans. I applauded my decision to get them out of the house.

While I was lining up my stuff at the check-out counter, my first challenge of the day came. Leonitus exclaimed that he had to pee and he needed to go immediately. What a perfect timing! Do I jam up the Q and drop everything to bring him to the loo or do I let him wet himself there and then? Loo or not? Loo or not?

After 2 seconds of debate in my head, I turned to my daughter and asked, "Laetitia, could you help Mommy bring your brother to the toilet? Toilet is just over there." I pointed to the entrance of the public toilets which was about 5 or more meters away and for the first time, I let her take charge his brother's bladder. I turned to my son, loosen his strings of his Bermuda shorts, and instructed "Leonitus, follow your sister and pee on your own."  I was half hoping that there will be 'no accidents', half preparing myself to go to the car for a fresh set of clothes and all the time praying they will be safe on their own.

Minutes later, both of them returned. Dry and safe. "We are done!" Laetitia proudly pronounced. "We, both pee and washed our hands." I beamed with pride, "Great! Let's get some lunch now."

We had Indonesian food for lunch. No table manners were enforced, I couldn't be bothered because seeing them eating well on their own and enjoying their Lontong Rice, Ayam Penyet and Gado Gado was simply good enough. I joined them, putting away my spoon and fork and letting my fingers do the work. Our messy and barbaric lunch, I think we enjoyed every minute of it.

When we reached home, it was almost their nap time and I have to unpack and store the groceries away, so I told them that they will have to shower on their own. Leonitus sped to the bathroom, chanting, "I can shower on my own. On my own." He enjoys showering on his own and surprisingly, he is very good at it for his age. Laetitia wasn't as enthusiastic, but she followed anyway.

After I dried them up, they changed and sat on the floor to read nap-time stories on their own, while I blew their hair dry to save time. When they are done, I packed them both to bed, while I took the time to rest, shower and dressed up.

After an hour of napping, one by one, they woke up on their own, as if by clockwork; then we were off to send Laetitia to her weekly art lesson and more shopping to stock up the kids' special gluten-free diets.

Finally, as evening drew near, my solo duty ended when I drove the kids to meet Mr Hubby in town for dinner. The children were excited to have their daddy joined us, they ran and dived their bodies onto him. I sighed with relief; I had made it through on my own.

"Woah, you look shag. How was things?" Mr Hubby asked cheekily.

I smiled and praised our kids, "They have been really good today."

"So, they behave better without maid around." Mr Hubby concluded.

I must admit, it had been daunting at first, but I had a fulfilling day running the show alone. And my children had the chance to experience independence and it empowers them to believe they can accomplish tasks on their own.

That night, I laid on my bed reflecting my day as the solo Mum, I gained precious insight on parenting. We shouldn't be seeking for perfection, instead we should provide our children with opportunities to let them experience, to have a chance to fail, and to learn from a mistake or a failure. In another words, as parents, we must let go of our inhibitions and have faith in our little ones.

I went to sleep, filled with gratitude for having spent a special day, alone with my children.

Why Still No Babies?

Yesterday, we brought our kids to River Hong Bao Carnival at The Float @ Marina Bay and I was approached by a CNN journalist who wanted to put me in front of the camera for an interview. She wanted me to talk about 'Why Singaporeans refuse to have more babies?'

The first thought that came to my head was "WOW! How could she possibly know that I have been saying NO to having a third baby to my relatives for the past two days during our CNY visiting?"

"Could she have read my blog post, the one I wrote with conviction about not having more babies? Or do I just have the I WANT NO MORE BABIES look?"

 As she was wiring me up for the interview, she told me that many Singaporean families cited stress as the main reason for not having more children. Many families felt that our country is too stressful to live and work in, let alone raising a family. If it is true, why are there still millions of immigrants flocking to our little island?

I can't speak for the majority of Singaporean families, but personally, stress isn't the main reason for me not having another child. Even with the recent package thrown in by the government to promote fertility rate, I didn't feel or think that Singapore is a great place for raising children, mainly because this country couldn't see past GDP growth and focused too much on life's tangibles. Maybe this country's vision is just entirely different from that of mine.

When I imagined my daughter going to Primary school next year to have lessons, homework, spellings, and whatever MOE thinks is going to prepare her for PSLE, filled up most part of her childhood, and not to mention that she will be labelled streamed at a tender age, I get depressed and very disturbed. Why isn't this country getting it?! When you cramped the child with so much textbook knowledge, you murdered her interest to learn! And streaming - it is at best capping a child with self-limitation. Tell me, why do we even want that?

Going to school shouldn't be about preparing for PSLE, O level, A level or even the University, it should be about preparing a child for living a life worth living! It should be about cultivating characters, inspiring passion, helping one to develop his/her talents and shaping a more resilient personality. And no amount of homework or exams will do justice to that.

Children should be given time to explore, to discover, to enjoy what the world has to offer, and not chain them up with tuition and lessons, making them slaves to paper qualifications or to be pushed to 'drug' themselves with the Internet and/or video games to escape the mundanes of school lives.

Our education system has produced inevitable amount of stress for the children and their parents and when these children grow up and become parents themselves, they are going to think twice about having their own. There you have it, a vicious cycle! Congratulation!

Meanwhile, here I am, bringing my two children into our world and possibly trying to go against the odds, raising them the way I want, in the most misfit manner. I am already (in the eye of our society who only wish to produce complying and GDP-focused bunch of people) a bad mother of two.

So tell me, how could I, this bad mother of two, possibly want another child for this country.

The good things about having boy

To top things off the chart, boys can always get away looking dirty and messy because that's how little boys are supposed to be.

When my boy needs to pee, I don't have to hunt down a toilet just for him. He can have it done quickly behind a bush, on the side of the road or just about anywhere.

I don't have to spend so much money bringing up a boy. Beside tops, bottoms and shoes, what else can I buy? He won't be asking me for a new pink dress every now and then.

I don't have to deal with overly sensitive emotions with boy. He is not going to break down and sob when I comment that his choice of shoes doesn't match his outfit.

If I had screamed at him because I was in a terrible mood, I don't feel so bad because I know he is going to take it nonchalantly, like he always does.

I can afford to be a little more rough with him without worrying that I will hurt him. He is already an expert dealing with getting himself hurt with all that leaping off furniture and crashing into walls. And bruises and scars are just like necklaces and earrings for girls - they are accessories for the boys!

I don't know about other little boys, but mine forgives and forgets. He would be brawling when I dish out punishment. But 30 minutes later, he would be kissing me and telling me he loves me.

No worries, if he is fat, because he will be going to army to get fit. No worries, if he is thin, because he will be going to army to get fit.

Last but not least, I will never have to fear the day he comes home impregnated by some asshole.

My boy turns 3 a week ago! I must say, it had been the most awesome 3 years of my life!

The hardest job in the world

My first-born has just celebrated her 5th birthday today. Wooooohhh, I survive being a mom for FIVE YEARS already? It's almost unbelievable, how I could last this long and still look forward to an even long 'career' in this world's toughest job - being a Mom.

Before my double Ls came along, I had always imagined myself to be a fashionista mom, looking immaculate and stunning; even if it was a trip to the supermarket, I would doll myself up and put my kids in their best clothes. We would be smiley and happy all day, all night; envious moms would wish silently that they look like me and curse that I would fall to my death wearing those killer heels as I sashay passed them.

Reality is..  I am a manic mother to two very challenging, over-active kids who bounces off furniture and wiggle like some squeamish worms. I am hardly with makeup over the weekends, my hair is in a constant mess, my permanent outfit is a pair of denim shorts and T. My daughter would want to wear that same dress for a thousand and one times, my son would insist on wearing the most mismatched top or risk listening to his high-pitch, high-octane whining.

I had envision myself to be the most loving mother, patient, gentle and kind. But now, I am just a screaming machines to my kids who pretended to be deaf around me. As a result, I would get a sore throat or lose my voice once every other month.

Nevertheless, being mommy to my double Ls has been the best thing that had ever happened to me. Happy birthday, my angel, I love you forever.

PS: This P&G commercial never fail to bring tears to my eyes no matter how many times I view it.

The Unintentional Child Abuse

Recently I watched this documentary about feeding children with junk foods, (titled Fast Food Baby) and it is appalling to see how irresponsible some parents can be.

To be honest, I am a self-confessed fast food junkie. I LOVE eating fast food, all those fried, greasy, sinful stuff give me the rush. On the other hand, I also know how bad my eating habits are and I tried my best to prevent my children from picking these habits up from me. Which is why, you often see me indulging in fast food during lunch time when I am working. It's a struggle to keep up with the pretences, if you know what I mean.

Since I was a child, I didn't have anyone to show me what good and healthy eating was. To make matter worst, one of the rewards for having good school results was food - not any kind of food, but fast food like burgers and fried chickens. And having sodas and cakes at home, which I can eat freely, just made the matter so much worst. Needless to say, I grew up with a weight problem (and I am still unable to shake that off as an adult) because of the way I view junk food as comfort and I became obsessive with balancing the love I have for eating junks and my ballooning weight.

When a child is young, he/she is unable to distinguish between right or wrong, hence he/she learns by observing and imitating the parents or caregivers. Which is why, I am so crazy over making sure that my children have healthy eating habits by feeding them balanced diet (vegetable is a MUST), fixing their mealtimes, ensuring that they love fruits, drink lots of plain water and strictly NO TV during meals, while all this time, I hide away my horrible compulsion to eat junks from them.

I know it is controversial for me to say that feeding your children junks and letting them grow up with a less than desirable eating habits is like child abuse, but as parents, it is our responsibility to make sure that our children grow up healthy by instilling the right mindset and habits.

Perhaps, you think your junk-eating kids are doing great (even better than mine even though they eating healthier) because they aren't over-weight or they might be looking quite as healthy. Don't be too glad yet. Research has shown that kids who are eating badly are at risk of diabetes, rickets, anaemia, and many vitamins deficiency diseases are awaiting them. And experts believed that good eating habits foster better learning abilities and decreases chances of behavioural problems in young children.

To rid all evil food is being overly idealistic and it just won't work.We still have the occasional eat-outs at McDonald's, KFC and all the other fast food chains, but as often as 5 times a week, we would have decent home-cooked meals back at home, complete with vegetable, meat, rice and soup.

Parental responsibility for ensuring our children are eating, sleeping and growing up well is inescapable. It's always easy to come up with excuses; blaming our lifestyles or how busy our lives can get, but if you so much as bat an eyelid at an abusive parent who gives his/her child a punch that blacken an eye or a slap that cuts the lips, you should start some soul-searching because feeding them junks all the time can just put you in the same league.

I might come across as being very judgemental with this post; objectively, I just want you, the parents, to see that loving your children goes beyond lip service; it means setting up some strict rules and cultivating a few good habits that your children will be thankful of, in the years to come.

OK. Finished. Now, I can go and pop that chicken nugget into my mouth.

Nahh.. Just kidding.

Grown Up

My daughter, Laetitia, will be turning five next month. I always look upon her as a sensible and independent child, for someone her age.

So comes a chance for me to find out if she is really as sensible and as independent as I thought she will be. Earlier, Laetitia and I were making our way to her ballet class, which is situated about 8-10 minutes walk from our condo.

Just shortly after we crossed the road to the opposite side of the street from our house, I asked if she would like to try going to the ballet school on her own and I will pick her up when her class ends. To my surprise, she said "OK. Bye, see you later!" And she picked up her pace and quickly overtook me. 

I walked behind her and reminded her to watch out for cars near the car-park entrance to the mall as she quicken her footsteps as though she was trying to shake me off. She was skipping more than 5 metres ahead of me when she turned around, and asked me, "Mommy, why you following me? Where are you going?"

"I am not following you, I am heading for the mall." I lied.

I saw her zipped through the busy mall, cutting across it to get to the next building. While all this time, I crept behind her, hiding behind pillars, ducking my way through the crowd to get ahead of her so that I can conceal myself to 'spy' on her. I can't help it, I can't say that I was prepared for this. Well, I am entitled to worry, you know.

She walked confidently, crossed the road with caution, waited for the lift among strangers and she reached her class safe and sound, all the while unaware I was watching her from afar.

I bought ang ku kueh, one of her favourite snack and waited patiently for her class to end. She was the first to charge out from her class. I hugged her and told her I was so proud of her for making her own way to class today. She smiled and told me she want to go to ballet class on her own again next week.

At that instance, I felt joy, intertwined with a tinge of sorrow, it was almost like I could taste how a mother would feel seeing her own daughter in wedding gown, marching down the aisle. That kind of pride mixed with a sense of loss. 

OMG! My daughter has grown up!

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Metaperception

"I am not what I think I am and I am not what you think I am; I am what I think that you think I am."

Sounds confusing?

Metaperception also known as the looking-glass self, a social psychological concept, created by Charles Horton Cooley.

The concept had me constantly reminding myself to think good things about my children and make known to them that my thoughts for them are positive. Because children grow up becoming what their parents believed them to be. So if you often think out loud, how lazy he/she is, how horrible he/she is, you will not get anything but that nasty-labelled child you thought you had all along.

This Aimee Mullins. Born without fibulae in both legs, doctors amputated both Aimee's legs below the knee on her first birthday. 

Her parents were told Aimee would never walk and would likely spend the rest of her life on a wheelchair. Aimee's parents refused to accept her medical prognosis and were determined to raise their daughter like any able-bodied kids. By age two, Aimee had learned to walk on prosthetic legs and she later went on to swim, bike and ski like all other children her age.

In her teen, she became the first double amputee to compete in nationally-ranked track team along side with able athletics. Then she went on to set World Records in the 100 meter, the 200 meter, and the long jump, with her prosthetic legs.

After conquering the tracks, Aimee was featured in Sports Illustrated for Women, being the first model without legs. In 1999, Aimee made her runway debut in London at the invitation of late fashion designer, Alexander McQueen.

Walking alongside with supermodels of the world and making her mark in fashion magazines like Vogue, Harper's Bazaar, Elle and many more, she was recently crowned as the new Global Brand Ambassador to the beauty brand, L'Oreal Paris.

If Aimee's parents would to 'accept their fate' and believed that their daughter was capable of nothing because she has a disability, do you think Aimee would be who she is today? In one of the interview, Aimee told her audiences, she never see herself as being disabled when she was young, simply because it wasn't in her parents' dictionary.

***********

I struggled with my identity and took a long time to finally become who I want to be because I didn't have the luxury of having parents around when I was growing up.

Ultimately, when you are an adult, how you see yourself could potentially be more important than how others perceive you to be. But if I can give my children a head-start, just by thinking more positively of them, then why not.

HFMD - What a Horrible Disease!

I brought my kids to KKH on Monday because they were both burning with high fever. After x-rays and some routine checks, I was told Laetitia had middle-ear infection, Leonitus had mild lung infection. Just before we left, the doctor warned me about the ulcers in Leonitus' mouth and told me to keep a watch out for symptoms of HFMD. I shrugged; already one down with middle-ear infection and the other with lung infection, we wouldn't be that unlucky, would we??

The next morning, Leonitus woke us up, screaming as though his mouth was on fire. A shine of torchlight revealed hundreds, if not, thousands of tiny red spots all over his mouth and some big angry-looking ulcers lined his lips and throat. Oh my fucking Lord! We strike first prize, haven't we?!

I worked half-day and came home to a heart-wrenching sight. Leonitus's mouth must have been too painful for him to close, he was drooling all over and crying at the same time. The pain must have been so excruciating that he completely goes off food and drink. In order to encourage him to drink to prevent dehydration, I bought him Ribena (normally, I wouldn't allow my children to go near unhealthy sweetened beverage), he was so eager to drink it, but the moment the fluid entered his mouth, he shrieked at the top of his voice and then big fat tears gushed out from his eyes.

That same evening, a trip to his paediatrician confirmed that it is HFMD. No surprise at the diagnosis.

Leonitus would spent more than 80% of his waking hours, whining and crying and wearing a look of complete anguish. I tried to distract him with TV, but with little success. Forcing him to drink water often resulted in him howling like a wolf in great distress. He is really such a sorry sight.

After all those tears and fussiness, he would become so exhausted and zonked out on my bed, only to wake up abruptly just moment later from the pain in his mouth. This went on and on throughout the night, like some cycle of nightmares which we are unable to wake up from. It was horrible!

His mouth must have hurt him so immensely, he actually gave up his pacifier at bedtime. He just clenched onto his pacifier tightly and went to sleep holding it in his hand instead of sucking it in his mouth.

I can't believe this is only Day 2 of the living hell; I was told it would take no less than one week to recover. Strength, I need to borrow some strength!! *tearing my hair out.

Motherhood

Yesterday was my joyous day because my BFF delivered her twin baby girls! Motherhood is such a gift, and I am so happy that she is receiving it. 

The word 'motherhood' is synonymous with responsibilities and challenges, it is also the source of satisfaction and happiness that nothing in the world comes close to offer. And apart from all those, it can also be the classroom to some of live's most invaluable lessons.

Lesson #1 - Selflessness

Before I have children of my own. Everything is about ME. How I feel? What I want? Where I want to be? It is almost unbelievable that I went overnight from being the centre of my own universe to assuming the role of the sole provider to this little life. I revolved around my baby, it was as though I had forgotten my own existence. My first lesson taught me to let go of myself so that I could be greater!

Lesson #2 - Responsibility

Children - they NEVER ask to be born. Now that I had given them lives, it is then my duty to respond to them in the most appropriate way. I need not present them with the best toys or the best education in the world, but my responsibility means I must provide them with the love, the care and the wholesomeness of a family, even if it means sacrificing certain things in my own life.

Lesson #3 - The Power of Examples

Children live by what they are taught; some things in life can't be done just by 'talking-the-talk'. Attributes such as kindness, integrity, tolerance, respect, honesty, modesty, patience, persistence, fidelity, commitment, independence, responsibility, friendliness, etc, had to be displayed, to be modelled by the parents. This has forced me to live my life as a better person.

Lesson #4 - Disciplined and Organised

There are just too many surprises laying in the path of parenthood and not all surprises make you go "Yay!" in a good way. Planning, planning, and more planning helps to get the day by with lesser frustrations and make lives so much easier. Routine gives children sense of comfort and certainty, this is their idiosyncrasies - adults don't have to understand. Just get down and do it!

Lesson #5 - Live in the Moment

For children grow up in a haste. They are right here and it is right now, so don't waste your lives over meaningless and petty trivia.

I believe my lessons of motherhood is not over, but the five above had inadvertently led me to happiness, not in them, but within myself. 

Happy Mother's Day to you and to you!

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Parental Sacrifice

I have some married friends who had chosen not to have children and of the many reasons they gave, "I don't want to make that kind of sacrifice" top the list.

Parental Sacrifice - are we asking for a limb or an eyeball here?

It's true that I (and Mr Hubby) had to make quite a number of some adjustments to our lifestyle, but I don't think these can be considered as BIG sacrifices to make.

As I usually display signs of OCD when I am planning stuff for the kids; like a trip is enough to make me lose some sleep because my anxieties just gets the better of me. Do you call this sacrifice?

I am also a little nuts when they are ill. Together, we had spent a fortune on their medical bills, seeking alternative treatments, TCM etc. Perhaps, I had sacrificed a LV or Chanel bag here.

I absolutely hate the sun but for my children I am willing to be baked and toasted so that they can have a great time playing in the pool.

I love food, I love to eat but I would give up my last piece of chicken wing for my children. That's a big sacrifice for a glutton like me.

And our kids sleep in the same room with us, so maybe our sex lives had been sacrificed in a way.

Would I sacrifice all that I love for my children? I don't think so.

Would I give up my life for any of them? Perhaps I might.

There is a difference between sacrificing almost anything for your children gladly and sacrificing everything for your children out-of-obligation. I oppose the latter.

I believe we have to choose our sacrifices, if we sacrifice everything we are, everything we hope for and want, we would only end up feeling nothing but frustrations and resentment.

However, if you are self-centred and could love nobody but yourself - childless is the way to go.

The Terrible 2s

My son just turned two, a couple of weeks back.

First, let me tell you a time when he was just a baby; he was simply godsend!

Leonitus was the type of baby that everyone would love to have. He was always smiling, very easy-going and very calm. I could just leave him on a play mat and he would play on his own and then fell asleep on the mat when he was tired. When he woke up, he would simply continue to entertain himself on the play-mat. He would drop off to sleep in the evening on his own, no need endless rocking (btw, I had never allow "sarong" in my home). By midnight, I would give him his last feed by sticking the bottle into his mouth while he was still very much asleep and he would finish off his milk without waking up! Don't have to burp him or change his diaper, he would just sleep throughout the night and then wakes up next morning cheery. Having such a baby was even better than winning 4D!

Two years later... what happen now?

I have got this screaming toddler who bounce himself off the bed, the table, the sofa and almost everywhere! He either crawls under the clothes racks or ran off in the opposite direction when I tried to shop. He checks out every electrical appliances whenever he could lay his hands upon. He howls louder than 10 wolves combined when I dish out punishment.

He is now making us pay for being the perfect baby he was - with interests, lots and lots of interests!! God, when is this going to end....

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It's good to have 2

I never wanted to have a second baby after Laetitia, because I am not too into kids but I do love my own very much.

Plus, I was afraid that having two children would mean lots more chaos at home, which turned out that I am right. My home always looks like a battlefield, with dead soldiers toys and books littered all over the place every evening!

And did I forget to mention the constant squabbles and fights, which actually aren't as bad as having them both down with flu or any nasty viruses of sort. I have already forgotten how it feels like to have a day goes by without hearing someone cry.

If I can start all over again, would I still choose to have two?

You bet, I will.

Why?

Because of this:

The love they have for each other. Priceless

Gain Some, Lose Some

I hadn't been blogging much lately because I am really busy. Busy jogging in the gym or around my estate. I am persistent to lose those pounds! Haha..

Anyway, last week, I received my third phone call from head-hunting company for a position as the Regional Trainer in a competition's company. Like the other two calls I received earlier, I rejected the person.

I know I am limiting my own career path by choosing to stay local. But between a globetrotting high-flyer and a mother, I choose to be the mom who will always come home for my little ones. And I know, I am happy with my choice. No regrets.

You gain some, you lose some. Not a big deal.