Getting over it

The PSLE results are out and Isaac scored 229. First choice St Gabriel's, second choice St Pat's.

I was in shock for most of Nov 20. And I am still recovering and trying to get over it. Isaac - I think pretty much the same.

Will never forget looking at the results slip that day and feeling shock, dismay and disappointment wash all over me at one go. And then, marshalling every bit of self-control that is left, to comfort my boy. He was tearing away and I was babbling away that it was okay, he did great, not the end of the world if he could not get into SJI, blessing in disguise, God's will. Heck, I threw every cliched platitude I knew into the messy mix of comfort and klutz that I offered. I think most of it did not sink in.

Around us were kids and parents, clutching results slips, talking away in excitement. Isaac's P4 teacher Mr Phillip came by. He hugged Isaac and congratulated him for doing well. I caught Phillip's eye and mouthed: No SJI. He's rather upset. And Phillip poohed-poohed it, saying to Isaac, no you did good. Forget about SJI - its nothing. You did great.

Then Isaac's best friend and his parents came over. They checked out their results and then we were all in shock all over again. Patrick scored less than Isaac, despite 2 A*s. SJI was out for him too. What a day. So unexpected. But I was less concerned about Patrick than Isaac - he was still crying and I knew I had to get him out of school. So we said our goodbyes hastily and left.

I then messaged KH with the news. He called back immediately and demanded to know if this was my idea of a joke. Gosh, I wish it were. He demanded to speak to Isaac on the phone. Isaac shook his head. He couldn't get any words out, tears dripping everywhere. What could he say? Told the daddy it's no joke, his son can't talk and we'd discuss when we got home.

Isaac and I spent the rest of the day in a hollow space of disappointment and sadness. Me trying my best to lift his spirits, boost his now-shredded confidence level and pushing aside my own feelings of disbelief and sadness. We sought refuge at my mother's house. I noticed that for the first time, Isaac was not making a beeline for the computer. He was just happy to sit and talk with me and his Mama or be quiet and listen to us.

In the evening his daddy did not say much, just that we would go the next day, to St Pat's and St Gab's to check out our options.

We spent time in St Pat's and in St Gab's the next day. I liked St Pat's for the atmosphere, the old school buildings, the culture, the tradition, the strong alumni, the Catholic-ness of the school. I also liked the principal, I liked the way he turned the school around, I liked his forthright manner, his stand on discipline. More interestingly, I liked the idea that he was starting a scholarship class. This class of higher-end students would be offered more opportunities eg overseas trips, exposure to life sciences etc. While Isaac would not qualify for the scholarship, I thought he would stand a chance of being in the 'scholar class' - created for the higher-achievers in the PSLE. At 229, and given St Pat's highest entry aggregate this year was 234, he would certainly be at the higher end.

I didn't really warm to St Gab's. I thought it was like any other government school - in terms of its architecture, environment etc. There was not much information there on St Gab's either and there were no promising opportunities in terms of the curriculum. But the boys we met there were really nice and showed initiative, good people skills and one of them was also from SJI Junior, or as he retorted: St Michael's School! I was never a Josephian, only a Michaelian! Ah, so even their youngest alumni was not in favour of the school losing the St Michael's name to SJI.

The key points that were in favour of St Gab's were the distance (Isaac could walk to school) and the fact that the L1B4 scores were higher than St Pat's. The average L1B4 for St Pat's is 18 while St Gab's average L1B4 was 15. The school also has a special needs officer. We also met Isaac's classmate there and it later turned out that most of the boys in Isaac's class who did not make it to SJI will very likely end up in St Gab's. So that was comforting to Isaac.

We also visited SJI to check out the possibilities of an appeal. But at 229, its quite a long shot, and the school is expecting the cut-off to move up to 238. Had we put SJI as first choice, we would have had only a slim chance of getting in but would have lost St Gabs as first choice.

We had lunch with Patrick's parents and discussed all the issues, trying to clear up the murky waters. But it was hard. And we left lunch on Sunday, no clearer in purpose and intent than before. The weekend and early part of the week was spent mulling things through, trying to get through to St Pat's principal to find out more about the scholar class and Isaac's odds (we didn't get much headway there).

After angsting over it for so long, we finally submitted the S1 form last night. I did tell Isaac that we just have to move on and take any painful lessons in our stride. SJI is not totally gone - he does have the option of taking the entrance test next year for Sec 2 transfers. But Isaac does not seem keen. Right now, he just seems wary of another setback, another rejection. He's not even in favour of St Pat's because he might not get into the 'scholar class'. I think his choice in St Gab's stemmed a great deal from just playing it safe and licking his wounds for now.

I also had soul-searching to do. It ranged from the trivial to the serious - did I hex him in any way? Maybe it was better if I didn't have that silly dream about him scoring so highly in the exam. Maybe I should have stayed away from school when he got his results then I would not have jinxed him. Should have worn the other lucky t-shirt. Should not have stepped on the cracks in the pavement. Should not have washed hair the night before. All these idle, trivial thoughts, bordering on the superstitious - wishing things could be different and wondering how they went wrong.

But I also pondered on other issues. Was I off the mark to expect him to do better? Is that really the best he can do? Is that a true indicator of his abilities? Was I overly confident of his abilities? Can you 'over-believe' in someone? Can I please walk my talk and not compare my children's achievements? Can I please just stop mouthing off on education bla-bla-bla on AP and looking like a horse's rear end right now?

I've come to realise that no, I can't 'over-believe' in my children. I believe in them and what they can do. I still believe Isaac could have done better. I don't believe the PSLE is the be-all and end-all of academic success. Yes, it is hard when we realise he can't make the grade. But in the grand scheme of things, its early days yet and Isaac has a long way to go. As KH said, better for him to get this kind of disappointment and setback now, then he learns a hard but valuable lesson about life, expectations, confidence, humility, complacency, drive, determination and hunger. Hopefully this will make him a better, stronger person.

As to the rest - re mouthing off on AP etc - yes. Lie low. Lick wounds. Whine a lot. :-)

And me, I am learning from this too - about myself, my own expectations, about friendship etc. I've realised how much of a lonely place I am in. When things go well, the congratulations will naturally flow in. People are attracted to success like moths to the light. But when the road darkens, who walks with me? I feel like a bit of a pariah leper these days. I have had only ONE message of comfort and support since Nov 20. But for the most part, I have also been met with an ominous silence from many whom I thought would understand and provide support and comfort. And gee, the silence is deafening.

Maybe people don't know what to say. Awkward situation after all. Feels kinda like a funeral when you really don't know how to dish out the condolences.

Well I don't want any faux, oily condolences - these days I am so hyper-sensitive I detect insincerity a mile off. I don't want anyone pussy-footing it around me. Yes, my son did not do as well as I thought he would. No, it seems he was not good enough. Yes many others did much better. I wish people would just be upfront about it, acknowledge my feelings and help me move on. Don't tiptoe around it, don't be silent and pretend all is fine and dandy. I just need someone to listen to me when I rant about my disappointment and then, when I am done crying, tell me what I am telling my son: "It's okay. Things will be okay. You will be okay." Why is this so hard? All they got to do is listen. And if they're really good friends, they'd tell me what an absolute little shit I am to moan about grades like these when it could have been far worse!

Still, at least I suppose the old adage holds true: if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all. At the very least, maybe it is better than getting a text message like: All according to ability la... Wow. Ouch. And that was after I told this person that we were very disappointed and that Isaac was very upset. Man, that message just left me shaking my head and pressing delete on my phone pronto.

Times like these really help me see who are real friends who would be with me in a time of need.

My immediate concern is my son. Damage control. I'm helping my son get over it, restoring his sense of confidence in himself and stroking the damaged feathers. I'll work on my end when I'm sure he's feeling a bit better.

Bye-bye Thailand, konnichiwa Japan!

Its official. The Thai Rail odyssey has been cold-storaged. Again. The money saved will go to the Visit-Japan fund for a trip scheduled for next year.

We did our sums and realised that the Thai trip would cost about $6000 or so for all of us. For another $7000 we could go back to Japan. So we gave the children the options: Go to Thailand this year or save the $$ and use it for Japan next year. It was almost unanimous - Japan it would be! The only exception was Owain. He wanted the clear waters of Krabi and was miffed that we would not be going. Consolation prize, KH suggested was just to go to Pangkor again. The water there, while not as clear as Krabi, would be clearer than many other places in Malaysia.

So I went online immediately, booked our accomodation in Lumut (Pangkor was full!) at the Swiss Garden resort and accomodation in Ipoh. We plan to take a leisurely drive to Penang as well and then back down the peninsula.

I'm very very excited! I think I've been a teensy bit depressed after Japan - withdrawal symptoms. I've missed it so much! But now, I feel perky and excited again - I wake up feeling like I have something to look forward to. Its time to start planning!! Time to dust off my Japan wishlist. I have a whole year to plan, maybe take Japanese lessons, go into Japanese cuisine again etc! And this time, I plan a much longer stay - at least 14 days or more in Japan. Off the top of my head - Ghibli, Disney Sea, the Kurobe-alpine route, Hakone (maybe) preserved post towns of Tsumago, Magome in the lush Kiso Valley, definitely Kyoto again, Nara, Kobe, Himeji, Hiroshima, Miyajima, driving in Shikoku and the Iya valley, and definitely, lots and lots of onsens! The kids have made their first request - go back to Kangetsu for our Tokyo stay. They really enjoyed the computer time, the rotemburo, and as Owain said, "even the bed on the floor and the comforter was very comfy!" Hee. Futon, son, futon...

Can't wait to go but the planning is half the fun... Now just have to pray for the yen to devalue more!

Report cards for the rest of the tribe!

Last day of school today for Isaac. The P6 boys at SJI Jr have the task of running various assorted games and activities for their younger schoolmates. It will be the last thing they will do in the school. The real farewell of course, took place yesterday.

His Chinese teacher treated the class to pizza and sandwiches as a farewell treat. His form teacher, gruff as ever, with no love lost between the boys and him, said nothing meaninful and just handed out the last school bulletins for the year. His English teacher had a more significant farewell. She called each boy by name up to the front, shook hands with each of them and said a few words individually. To Isaac, she asked: "Do you think you will do well?" Isaac, in his typically deadpan way, avoiding her gaze, said: "Er, I don't know." She said firmly: "I think so. I think you will do well."

Well, I hope so!!

Next week is the PSLE results day on Nov 20. The boys have to be in school by 12nn in full uniform to collect their results. Even I am feeling the jitters about this! It would be the first time I do this as a parent - go to school with my child to collect results. Last year, with Gillian, we were in Japan - but I had a lovely SMS from her teacher to say don't worry, she passed!

So this collecting-results-from-school thing will be a new experience for me. I asked Isaac if he wanted me to go with him, or preferred to go alone. He said he wanted me there. What about dad, I asked. KH had volunteered to take leave and come. But Isaac said no to his dad being there. I asked why and he looked a bit sheepish as he said, "Well, if the results are bad, then dad is going to kick up a fuss and go on and on..."

"And I won't? I believe I have given you earfuls of nagging when your results were not up to par!"

"Yeah," he muttered. "But you're different from dad..."

Okay. I thought it was not quite fair to KH though because I didn't think KH would really kick up a fuss if the results were bad. He would not scold or harangue Isaac, but he might make many of his corny jokes and observations which are not very funny nor useful and he would not know when to stop! Yes, my neanderthal of husband gets an A-star for insensitivity sometimes.

I'm happy to go with my boy and be there for him. He's cool as a cucumber about all this though. But I am very jittery and nervous! Probably more than him!

I am not going to hex him by saying he will do well and definitely get to SJI. I am planning contingency plans - St Gabriels if he does not do well enough, and St Pat's is third in the running. Dad suggested Bartley Sec - his and my brother's alma mater... but KH gave a very horrified NO. Choose a better school. Of course I am not telling dad what KH said - heh! KH is planning to take Friday off to drive his son around to visit his various school choices so that the final decision can be made.

And as for my fishball Owain, well, I attended the Parent-Teacher meeting and his teacher had this to say: Owain is very bright. Has a photographic memory. Just need to show him something once or twice and he remembers it. His grasp of maths concepts is good and he catches on very quickly. In terms of readiness for P1, there should not be a problem. What this means is, he is pretty much on track to be ready for P1 and there looks like no real bumps ahead in the horizon. The only thing is, he is not interested in, and cannot grasp as well, the phonetic concepts of sounds and blending - so this will hamper his progress in reading. No problem with sight words - articles like 'a', 'the', them', 'there' etc. But he has problems in associating letters and sounds and blending them to form words. Still, his teacher seemed sanguine. She said its just a question of readiness. Once they are ready and they cross this last hurdle, there is usually no stopping them. All children have to make this leap and some just take a bit longer than others, but inevitably, they do.

His Chinese teacher said more or less the same thing: Owain is very bright. Learns very fast. No problem with writing or reading, or word recognition (do I thank Berries for this big leap? He was nowhere near this level of proficiency when he first started Berries earlier this year). The only issue she had with him was the lack of Chinese conversation. Cait's Chinese teacher said the same - no problem with most areas except for speaking. And if one does not converse enough, it will inevitably affect composition writing later on, zhao ju (sentence-making) and comprehension.

I've heard this often enough but the thing is - how to speak more when no one in my house speaks Mandarin!!! I am toying with the idea of getting a Mandarin tutor - not to drill them but to just converse in Mandarin - two hours a week better than nothing. Think it will work? Sigh...

Gillian also ended the year well. She scored As in her science grade and overall, Bs in general for her D&T, Home Economics and Cs for the rest. More significantly, for the first time in her life, she passed ALL her subjects!! She's moved up a couple of notches in her class placing to be among the top 15. So we are very pleased. She is fitting in well academically and we are glad she now has this sense of accomplishment. Last year's PSLE results were a good boost for her self-confidence and this year's year-end results do the same. With this, she can see that hard work gets her places.

This is precisely why I believe in streaming. Had there been no streaming, she would have been lumped with everyone else and been at the bottom of the barrel, and it would have been very demoralising for her. In pri school, until she officially streamed to EM3, this was the case. Her classes was mixed and she always ended up scraping the bottom. And in case you think girls of a higher academic ability are necessarily kinder and help their lesser-endowed counterparts, you're wrong. Gillian was very often the target of many malicious and spiteful comments. There were only one or two exceptions.

Socially, she seems to have settled down to one good friend - Abigail. This girl seems to have her share of problems, but does not exhibit as much outrageous behavior as some other girls in class. Gillian still remains very connected to us at home, so while there are some stirrings of rebellion, she still largely remains close and this negates the influence she gets at school. I don't know how long this will last though and it will get trickier the older she gets.

All in, this year was also a good year for her. It gets harder next year though! KH and I scanned the maths syllabus for Sec 2 NT and we were cringing - ack! algebra! How to explain algebraic concepts to someone who barely grasps basic mathematical concepts! KH is not looking forward to next year...

Finally, Trin. She will start regular therapy in Jan next year. She went for a test and showed normal development for her age range in articulation. But the second test for expressive vocabulary was cut short because she was not co-operative. They will test again six months later. We do see some more emerging language skills. She is still not as proactive as we'd like her to be, still has a great deal of baby-talk, but there are hopeful signs. She can babble something like: "Moon ky!" or "Is raining!" or "Car blue! I dri car."

All we can do at home is to speak more, articulate clearly and speak in proper sentences so that she can see the place for articles eg we will say, "THE moon IS IN THE sky!". We will repeat what she said in its proper sentence. We will keep labelling what we see everyday, keep reading to her. I've bought her a big word book which she loves. She enjoys flipping through, pointing and labelling the objects/pictures. Right now she can identify colours, identifies numbers, can rote count to 12 and has maybe about 300+ words in her vocab. We just need to show her how to link them up in sentences and encourage her to use these in her speech. Sounds easier than it is.

So there it is - this is how my tribe stands at the end of 2008. The chapter is not fully closed until Isaac gets his PSLE result on Nov 20. But I think its been good so far. Praise and thanks be to God for giving us this lovely year - more ups than downs.

The little things that count

The primary school year has officially ended. Phew!

Caitlin came home with a cert for Fun Gym, a cert for Art from the Little Art Bug workshops the school organised, a cert for completing the dance programme and participating the the IJ Dance Fest, a cert for music accomplishment in class (she's not tone deaf after all!) and finally, a cert for "completing the school year with fun and laughter!"

I liked the last one best - it has been a good year all in all for her.

So far in my experience with IJ this past year, I have seen countless little touches that were not present in my experience with my other kids' schools. Even before the school year began, when Cait went for Orientation night, she was given a small laminated card, written and illustrated by her P1 counterpart in the same Hibiscus class who welcomed her to IJ and to the Hibiscus class. I thought that was a nice touch!

Then looking at the programmes the school offered - from gym to dance to Little Art Bug workshops etc, it seemed that while there was emphasis on the academics (can't run from this), there was also good emphasis on the non-academics. I liked this aspect too.

Her movement through the year in terms of Chinese, also demonstrated differentiated learning in full swing - from taking the bridging module in the first half of the year which meant extra classes and small group learning, to making that huge improvement and then switching over to the core modules, that also impressed me.

We went for the Parent-Teacher meeting recently. We were presented with a file of Cait's writing. Each girl had a writing file. The work done in that file over the months accounted for 5 marks of the overall final scores. I liked that progressive development was taken into consideration. A detailed report from the school was included to show where her strengths and weaknesses lay in terms of writing skills.

Incidentally, she loves to write - I saw her late one night, working away at her desk. I asked what she was doing and she showed me a large notebook - pages of writing. She was re-writing the story of Cinderalla, and on the opposite blank pages, there was a simple illustration. I looked through it and thought - well, good effort but she sure needs to work on paragraphing! Gosh, three pages of ONE paragraph!! And she needs to work on expressing her own ideas as well. Still, its a good start and I was suitably impressed - none of my other kids have done this. Not even Isaac!

In her report book, it was not only the grades that were reflected. Assessments and grading were provided for art, for PE too! And it was not just a 'Pass' or 'Fail' grade or As, Bs, Cs etc. But ticked boxes indicating the level of skill she demonstrated. So for Art, for example, while she showed good awareness spatial concepts, of line, colour, contrast and tone, and could make use of various media and techniques to bring out these skills, she still needed to be developed in terms of creative concepts, in developing her own ideas and to be confident about expressing these.

I don't know if many other schools do this, but I did appreciate that these observations were recorded for parents. It told us a lot more than just the usual letter grades. I did not see this done for Gillian's or Isaac's pri school.

And finally, the tiny certs they gave were also a nice touch. It reminded the girls that these were their accomplishments to be proud of, and of how far they have come. What a nice confidence booster.

I like these small thoughtful touches and these are what sets certain schools apart from the ordinary. The first year of pri school for Cait has been relatively a good year. She started the year out strong, then had this big emotional anxiety attacks that lasted for a good part of the year, but then ended the year on a high note with a fantastic performance at the Dance Fest, great grades (high band 1 for English and Maths and band 2 for Chinese) and a nod for the artistic gym CCA early selection. I'm proud of her. She is happy where she is now, lots of friends and they come from all classes and not just Hibiscus. Cait is really Lil Miss Social Butterfly - so there have been many invites to many a birthday party practically every other week.

It's just the beginning and it does get tougher.

Next year, the academics get ratcheted up a notch, gym training is stepped up to 2x a week, ballet exams in March and we plan to remove the school bus option - so she has to learn to take public transport by herself. We will give the girls a lift to school in the early morning, then she will take bus home by herself. No point continuing with the school bus since 3 days out of five, she will have to stay back in school either for ballet or gym.

Having a kid go through P1 is always an exercise in bated breath - will they take to school well? Can they adjust? Can they cope with the academics? Will they fit in, make friends? I look back on the year with fond nostalgia because I know the honeymoon is over, even though Cait is pretty blissfully unaware. Its uphill from here and the intensity will build over the years. I hope she will come through okay.

Our first harvest!

We had kangkong (water convolulus) for dinner the other day. Nothing spectacular about it but the fact that it came freshly cut from the our garden! We've taken to growing small patches of veg in our backyard. We have kangkong, chilli, bittergourd, durian (KH shakes his head at this one and says no go, have to remove it before it grows into a ginormous tree!), pandan plant, Thai basil, curry plant, daun limau perut, lemongrass. I would like to add brinjal to the list soon.

No pesticides, no fungicides, nothing chemical. We use only organic compost on it. Don't know if this was my imagination but the kangkong sure tasted great!

Waste not want not

It was Isaac's birthday yesterday but we celebrated it on Monday by bringing the kids, plus Isaac's friend P and his sister G out with us. I think the kids enjoyed their day out. We went for a morning walk at the new Admiralty Park with my ILs. Yes I spent a nice morning trailing 30m behind the group (roll eyes). I never feel quite comfortable with them and going on a walk through a nature trail, I would rather dawdle along, check out the flora and fauna and listen to birdcall (although there was more traffic noise than birdcall since the park bordered a busy road!!).

Following that, we ended up at my ILs house (again, no, all this was not planned by me since I would never voluntarily suggest any amount of time spent with them, but more like I was vetoed by my kids who wanted xbox time). So the kids played on the xbox while I hung out at the nearby mall for more than an hour. The day ended with a swim at the Yishun SAFRA club which had a very nice pool. I didn't swim - I never do (hate public bathrooms and changing rooms - ugh!) . So the kids - all 7 of them including Trin - went with KH.

He said people were giving him funny looks again since he had 7 kids with him, haha. I guess we're all immune to curious looks when we go out with 5 kids, but to have 7 and only ONE parent, must have been mind-boggling for the other parents.

The day passed pleasantly except for the morning. But I just wanted to record my observations about my kids - and his friends.

Having other kids around gave me a chance to see what these kids are like, how they behave, how they are brought up and to put my parenting, my kids into perspective.

P and G, Isaac's friends, are 12 and 8 respectively. They have no other siblings and come from a relatively well-off family. Their mother is an investment banker and the father dabbles in business. They are well-travelled and go to good schools.

I found P and G well-behaved generally. They're not bad kids. They were sociable, fit in well with my kids, interacted well with the adults. They were not spoilt kids. But yet, two incidents were telling.

The first happened when 8-year-old G complained of a stomach ache. We were in the car after the swim. And she was sitting in the back, groaning away really loudly. We were naturally concerned and asked if she was okay, did she need to go to the toilet etc. I was particularly worried since I do not want to offer meds to someone else's kid. Then I realised that the more concern we showed, the louder she would groan and clutch her tummy. Finally, I have to say I got a bit irritated. None of our suggestions agreed with her and the groaning was becoming louder and more annoying. So I said mildly, if you're so unwell, perhaps it might be best if we gave you a lift home. Your mum might be able to give you some meds for this.

Immediately the groaning ceased and she said: No, I don't want to go home.

After that, we had reached our home and the kids started setting up the DVD player, going on the computer etc and there was no more groaning and moaning. G played happily with the rest.

KH later told me that I was taking a risk, what if she was really in pain and tried to ignore it just to avoid going home. I told him that IF she was really in pain, she would WANT to go home. I have a built-in antenna when it comes to kids trying to pull a fast one for whatever reason, and I have no patience for attention-seeking or whiny kids. I hate molly-coddling people and especially molly-coddling kids. I especially hate pandering to attention-seekers (read MIL!). I think this just indulges them to whine more. My approach is simple: if it bothers you enough, do something about it. Otherwise, just be quiet!

Incident number 2 is really an amalgam of several incidents. It was breakfast. P had already had his breakfast. Nonetheless, he opened a full packet of bee-hoon. He ate half the egg, gobbled the chicken wing and left two-thirds of the beehoon uneaten. Said he already had breakfast, was too full etc. So we ended up throwing away that packet of beehoon. Then came lunch. He could not eat what my ILs bought so we asked the helper to cook a bowl of instant noodles. He said he wanted to include fishballs and veggies too. Barely ten minutes later, I heard him say: I can't finish. I'm not very hungry - still full from breakfast. He asked Gillian to eat this for him. Gillian complained of being treated like a scavenger but still ate a bit. Despite that, there was still a LOT left that had to be thrown away.

I, who cannot abide waste, really felt my hackles rising. So when incident three came, I was ready. He asked for oatmeal which the others were eating. I asked him to taste first and see if this was what he really wanted. He did and said yes. I gave him two spoonfuls of oatmeal and cooked it up. Added an egg. Half an hour later, he came to me with his bowl, three-quarters uneaten and said, you guessed it: Can't finish. Aaaarrghhh!!

Had it been my kid, I would have called him on the carpet! But of course it would not be my kids. My kids have been drilled from birth - take only what you need and finish everything on your plate. They know better than to embark on a deathwish like this by wasting food.

So faced with this boy, I really felt like tearing my hair out!

I have been brought up not to waste food and now I am imparting the same philosophy to my kids. How often have I heard the usual line about Ethiopians starving away and here we are throwing away food etc. Yes I used to roll my eyes too whenever my mom went on and on about this.

But now I say this to my kids too. Well, not about the Ethiopians but about the kids in Cambodia or in the Manila slums who rummage through garbage heaps to find edible scraps of food. My kids never ask me about the logic of this though - how could their actions at the dining table translate to actual help for those kids. But I believe in a karmic logic to all this - that if we respect the laws of the universe, respect what is given to us and be thankful for it and not waste, then somewhere somehow, it will be put right. We might have more respect for what is not ours, what is transient, rare, finite. We would appreciate better what we do have, appreciate the amount of work that it took to put food on the table and have better empathy and respect for our fellowman somewhere who has much less.

A friend told me that she's okay with food wastage - what matters is that the kid must enjoy the food and not force it down. But I think this is very undisciplined. It just means that I can do whatever I like as long as I like - never mind if there is wastage or excess or whatever. I can't do this. I don't believe in being this self-indulgent. At the least, its so disrespectful to Mother Earth! I don't want my kids to behave like this or think it's okay to behave like this.

I can't help but wonder if my family and I are anomalies. And is this because I am strict? Or are other parents lax? Does it have anything to do with the size of their family? I would imagine that with a larger family, one would be more wary of wastage since resources are so finite. I would also think that with a smaller family size, the kids are more likely to be mollycoddled and their every whim catered to. Is it necessarily bad that I don't indulge my kids? Is this what they mean when they say kids from big families suffer from the lack of parental attention? Well if so, I'm glad I have a big family then.

This sort of me-first, never mind the rest of the world attitude is not uncommon. Just on Sunday, the Sunday Times interviewed this undergrad who thinks nothing of spending freely on luxury items in a downturn. Its all well and good if you can afford it but it does reflect a distasteful disregard for the times and a lack of sensitivity for the people around you who may not be well-off.

If she wants to spend that kind of money, be my guest. But what gets my goat is the aura of insensitivity and callous attitude she gave off that smelled so bad in the article. (Note: there were some in the ST forum pages who defended her and said she was misrepresented in the article. They gave a URL to her blog. Out of curiosity, I surfed over. First of all, gosh if this was the way 1st year undergrads in NTU write, I think NTU's selection standards leave a lot to be desired! Second, she claims to be misrepresented etc, but when I surfed to previous entries, the same bad whiff of self-indulgence and flaky insensitivity came out. No smoke without fire they say...)

Were her parents overly indulgent? When did she start seeing them as an unending fount of funds? And with her mindset like this, what will happen to her should reality come crashing down? I shudder to think.

I hope and pray my kids will never be like that.

I don't think they will. There's hope yet. Yesterday was Isaac's birthday and we usually go out to celebrate as a family, treating them to their favourite food. Usually the request would be for sushi. But this time, Isaac surprised us all. He asked me how much a bowl of ramen would cost, if baby would share with Owain etc. He did the math and concluded that ramen was cheaper, so let's have ramen instead of sushi. When we asked him why, he said it was because times are getting harder and we're almost in a recession (actually we already are!) so better not to be so extravagant. Wow and double wow for my son!! Note that for the record, we ended up having sushi. KH and I thanked Isaac for being thoughtful, but since it was his birthday, we would treat him to sushi which was what he really wanted. During dinner though, I overheard him telling his siblings: "Eh, you all better don't eat so much ah!"

Then after dinner, he saw me withdrawing some cash from the ATM. I told him quite frankly that I was relieved to see my bank balance still able to last me through to the next pay day - 18 days to go! When he asked why, I told him the truth: every month is hand to mouth for me and I need to watch what I spend very carefully because on months when I am careless, there is literally nothing left in the kitty - zero! It's never a nice feeling to go to the ATM, try to withdraw money and realise you only have $20 left in there! But this happens practically every month for me, so I tell him its important to ration money very carefully.

Some parents might think this is too much information for the kids. But I'm quite happy to share the state of my finances with him. I think he is old enough to know, think for himself and join the dots. I don't believe in sheltering him or being an unlimited source of funds for him or the other kids (I can't!). Hopefully, my honesty will bring a huge dose of reality to them and let it sink home what we've always been saying: money does not grow on trees!

10 good reasons

Owain has been badgering me to nurse him. I thought he was well over the nursing and did not seem to mind not nursing. We have not nursed for many months already.

But these few weeks I noticed that he has been bugging me pretty often about nursing. Usually he just teases me and uses it as an exclamation point. For example, when I say no to one of his requests, he would shout: I want nen-nen!

But these days its more pleading/bugging than just an exclamation. He even tells me: You have to give me nen-nen. If you don't give me nen-nen I will die!!

So drama! Pity about his hard-hearted mummy who laughed mercilessly when she heard all this!

Once or twice, I did let him try and nurse, but he could not get anything out. He had forgotten how to nurse. When I told him he'd already forgotten, he said: "I will learn again. Just suck slowly... or you can press the breast..." Meaning that I should do breast compressions while he nurses!

The other day I told him in exasperation: "If you can give me 10 good reasons why you should have nen-nen, I will let you have it!"

So he thought for a while and here are his reasons. They were not all given at one go - he had to think them through for a while, often stopping for days until a new reason struck him and he could add it to the list. Here they are, in no order of preference:

1. Because nen-nen is healthy and good for my body.
2. Because nen-nen is good for your body too!
3. Because you're beautiful.
4. Because I like the taste of nen-nen.
5. Because I love you.
6. Because I like the strawberry on your breast (he's referring to a tiny strawberry mark on the areola)
7. Because nen-nen is better than cow's milk.

It's stopped like this for now. He's thinking hard and working on the rest.

When he gets to number 10, I'll let him have his nen-nen. I think he deserves it. Don't you?

Owain's motto

Owain's motto is: "You never know if you never try."

And its got to be said fast. Preferably with a charming smile and cocky slant of the head!

Owain is more adventurous than my other kids and he seems more willing to try new things, new food, new ways of doing things, than the rest.

This motto came out quite naturally from him. None of us coached him or put any suggestions to him about even having a motto. One fine day he just announced that this was his motto.

For now.

And the next line out of him would usually be: Mum, what is YOUR motto?

Hmm. Good question. I thought for a bit and then I said: My motto is the same one that is on the clay piece attached to my bag's zipper. It says "Live well, laugh often, love always."

A revolution in the works

I learned a lot today.

It started with an email from Sui Noi early in the morning which directed me to a video clip of Sir Ken Robinson speaking on how schools stamp out creativity.

Schools are a form of organised education born in response to the demands of industrialisation about two centuries ago. And it has been so ever since - we cater to the demands of industry. Industry and jobs dictate which subjects are important. The education system tells us that Maths, languages are at the top of the food chain while other subjects like history or art or dance lie further down.

In our system in Singapore, I note that this is so too. We have four examinable subjects - English, Mother Tongue (Chinese or Malay or Tamil), Maths and Science - at primary school level. The rest are Art, PE, Music, Social Studies. But the latter group are like the poorer relations because they are seen to be 'extra', 'expendable' and not as important. So if extra time were needed for the major subjects, sometimes the lesson periods for something like art or music or PE would be sacrificed. In our system, there isn't much emphasis placed on learning something different, alternative. We focus on results, put up charts, tweak the system to for better outcomes for the majority.

In my response to my friend, I wrote that education has become corporatised. Mass education, schools in the way we know them today, are born out of industrialisation. But today, schools are industrialised. We are churning out drones which are pretty similar to each other. After the nth drone churned out, where is the value? So degrees today are not worth much, try harder to get a Masters. And when a masters becomes commonplace, try a PhD. But where will it end?

Meanwhile, what about the individual? What about the minority - those who learn differently, have different gifts and talents? What then? There are many stories, and Sir Robinson narrates one in his speech too, of people who do not fit the education model of the norm but who 'blossom' in a different way. But more often than not, these stories are celebrated as stories of triumph against the odds, success found after struggle etc. They are never seen as the norm where children are free to explore their interests, talents, to learn best in the way they learn and then to thrive with no labels and definitions from society. Why should this be so?

This is part of the email which I wrote to Sui Noi: "The idealist in me agrees wholeheartedly with Sir Robinson. But the pragmatist in me wonders how this revolution can ever take off when everything today has to be benchmarked, tested and then graded – particularly in a place like Singapore. Everything has to be quantified and children today are no different. I work in education (and Sir Robinson is right about me never being invited to dinner parties!) and I know that funding is pegged to headcounts – in terms of staffing, students etc. We answer to numbers. There is the issue of ‘accountability’. There are bottomlines in education – how many graduate, how many drop out etc. We try to be more ‘efficient’ and teach what we consider to be ‘useful’. When schools are busy applying for ISO certification, applying productivity and quality principles in terms of input (admissions) and output (graduation), education starts to take on a different spin. In short, education has been corporatized."

All very interesting because I posed the same question to Chern on AP. We were discussing the usefulness (or lack!) of standardised testing in schools. I said pretty much the same thing: I am all for the idea, but it would take one heck of a revolution in education to ever change mindsets to return to the individual development. State resources being finite, will never permit individualisation. Pragmatic, achievement-oriented societies that value material success and prestige and status, societies like Singapore and China etc, will never buy this. Never will they go without standardised testing - its their security blanket! For us, who live in a society where everything needs to be measured, recorded and accounted for, standards and benchmarks are what we cling to to assure ourselves of achievement.

I don't have answers and I certainly can't change the system - such a behemoth! I don't think I can see change like this in my lifetime! I can only do what I can for my own kids and work within the system. So like I always say, I am pragmatic.

Diametrically opposite of state and mass education, is homeschooling. And unschooling of course.

Writers like Joseph Chilton Pearce and John Holt have written about how children learn! They make a case for homeschooling, and even unschooling – a concept unfamiliar to me until I read Holt’s books. There is something to be said for allowing kids to find their way in what they want to learn, to take direction from the children themselves. With unschooling, there is no enforced curriculum – ie penmanship lessons, tablework with lots of worksheets, drills etc. Children express interest and natural curiosity in certain areas and the unschooling mothers follow up on those – incorporating mathematical concepts, word recognition etc in the exploration of these areas.

I have friends who practice homeschooling and unschooling. Some do so until the age of 7 and then they let the children enter the system. Others continue until the children reach teenhood. Interestingly enough, the children who were homeschooled/unschooled performed very well once they went to mainstream schools. I found this so even through my experience with Caitlin whom I tried a mish-mash of homeschooling and unschooling in the years before she entered K1. Today, she is performing very well in P1, showing an aptitude for mathematics, dance and gym. So I don’t know if a certain amount of child-led education, particularly in the formative years, rather than institution-led education, might be beneficial to children in the long run. Or perhaps free learning for everyone is the way to go.

Personally though, I am not confident and disciplined enough to homeschool. I was always feeling uncertain whenever I tried to work with Cait in those days. Some days worked, some days didn't. Like Trin's therapist told me the other day when I tried to explain my angst: "Don't try too hard. Even we therapists have bad days when we run out of the right things to say and ask and we resort to the cardinal sins which we have been told not to do! If the child can say the sound once, or maybe twice, that is good enough. Move on. Don't be self-conscious about it."

Hah! Easier said than done. I am VERY self-conscious about this. And always wonder if I am asking the right questions, doing more harm than good in the process. So yeah, I like the idea of homeschooling and unschooling. But I just don't think I'm the right person for the job!

One last point on children and learning.

While surfing the ted.com site, I came across another gem: Dr Sugata Mitra speaking and showing how children can teach themselves. The video blew me away because the message was so powerful! Do click on the link and watch the video. But if you can't, do visit the Hole-in-the-Wall Project site. Here's a quick summary:

It started in his office at Delhi. His office bordered an urban slum. What he did was to cut a hole in the wall of the fence and to put a PC monitor in the hole. He stuck a touch pad (like those found on laptops) next to it. On the other side, the CPU rested, linked to the internet. Then he waited to see what would happen.

A child, of about 8 years old, came along. He fiddled with the touchpad and 8 minutes later, discovered how to surf the net. He had taught himself how to do it. Later on, more and more kids came over and the lesson spread.

What Sugata Mitra found through this intriguing exercise, was that children could organise themselves and teach themselves. Didn't need a teacher. Just a group of kids, enough curiosity and they'd figure it out. Language was no barrier either. After a while, the kids picked up the common terms for computer usage eg 'download', 'file' or 'save'. This is exactly what Maria Montessori was talking about. Left to their own devices and their own natural curiosity, children can and will learn, and in the process derive a great deal of enjoyment.

Dr Sugata tried this experiment at remote villages across India, each time adjusting the computer and the 'booth' for the different temperature ranges etc of the Indian climate, and once, with the lack of connectivity, used CD-Roms instead of the internet. The results were the same. Kids who were illiterate, no formal schooling, no knowledge of English, learned how to navigate and work the computer. In one instance, when he came back several months later, the kids could even trouble-shoot, asking him for a 'better mouse', faster processor etc!

And in a clear demonstration of Montessori principles, the younger children were teaching the older kids! So unlike our schools where everyone goes into age-appropriate classes. Also an interesting point to note that girls were the ones largely found at the wall, exploring the PC.

Interestingly, Sugata Mitra also found that when the best technology was given to the best schools, they derived the least value from it. A school, he explained, already performing at 80% might get at best an additional 3% value from educational technology. But put the technology in a rural, remote area, to schools which lacked the resources, and you can see the value add shoot up significantly.

Let's hope MOE takes note - instead of giving autonomy and the best resources to the proven best, give to those schools who are lagging and lets see what those students make of it.

I found this comment from Dr Sugata, quite recently posted. He said: "Montessori, Vygotsky, Piaget - are geniuses who were far ahead of their times. I cannot even begin to compare my work with theirs. My work is simply a practical application of their ideas, in an age where information resources are at a stage that none of them could have ever imagined."

Wow.

Now what do I do with my own kids??

More on Riang's unseen resident

While we're on the subject of spooky stories, I thought I'd archive a bit of memory and post on the first major 'infestation' that my house had.

When we moved to Riang more than 10 years ago, it was already considered a 'greying' house in a 35-year-old estate. Sitting in what used to be a rubber plantation, the house has seen two or three other owners and occupants. The family that lived there before we got it were tenants. The owner lived two streets down and had bought it as an investment. But back in the Asian financial crisis the property honeymoon had ground to an abrupt halt and he had to let it go quickly. He put it on auction. KH and I had just sold our Pasir Ris flat and we were looking for a good property to buy. Meanwhile, we were camping out at my parent' place couple of streets away. While driving around the neighbourhood one day, we saw it. Being a corner terrace, I was a bit apprehensive that it would be out of my league. Still, we viewed it, liked it, and according to KH, the fengshui was in all the right places. We bought it for a really good price - almost half its value today.

Strange things did not happen immediately. It was only about a year or more after we had moved in that weird things happened. The kids, (back then, Gillian was 4 and Isaac was 3) reported that they saw "an ugly man" sitting in their room. Once, we had friends who came over for a visit. While we were chatting in the living room, Isaac pointed to a spot behind us, out in the garden and said the ugly man was there. For the life of us, we could not see anything or anyone.

And always, always, at 2.30am sharp, he would wake up screaming from nightmares. We would rush over to his room, sleepy but concerned.

In 2000, KH and I went to Spain for a holiday. We left the kids at home and my parents came over to stay. When we came back, my dad, who slept in the children's room on the floor after we had warned him of all these nocturnal disturbances, said that while he was there, the kids slept peacefully. But strangely enough, HE was awakened without fail every night at 2.30am.

I decided to spend the night in the kid's room to see for myself, what exactly was going on. So the kids slept with KH while I took the lower bunk. I left the wall light on, so there room remained dimly lit. Till today, I don't know exactly if what I saw was a dream or if it was real. I know that at some point in the night, I woke up. In a sleepy haze, I saw the chair, which was usually at the desks, had been placed in the middle of the room. A black shadow, like clouds of dust, was slowly coalescing into a human form on the chair. I could not tell if it was male or female. I think it would be safe to say that I was terrified. I either could not move, or did not dare to move. I didn't dare close my eyes either. Finally, whatever it was sat there for a while and then dissipated.

I told my father. He decided to ask his friend to come have a look at the house. My dad has all these strange friends who have some interest in the paranormal. Going out to a cemetery in the dead of night with his pals is a common recreational activity for my father! Don't ask me why! I've always been fascinated by the stories and folklore on Asian supernatural elements that my father could tell me.

So dad apparently has this friend who has some psychic ability. He told dad, when Isaac was born, that Isaac would have a brown birthmark on the back of his knee without even seeing him. At birth, the mark was not immediately noticeable. But as he grew up, it became more prominent. This guy never even met Isaac!

Dad brought his friend to the house one night. He walked upstairs immediately, zoomed into the right room (we did not tell him which one it was), walked around, then out to the landing, back in again. He was silent all the time, sometimes closing his eyes. Finally he told us what he 'saw'. He said a death had occurred many years ago, in Isaac's room, in almost the same location as the bed too. It was not a violent death. A man had died there from natural causes. But he did not know that he was dead and that he had to 'move on'. He thought the room was still his. And he was affronted that someone else is now occupying 'his' room.

Dad's friend tried to tell him to move on, that his time was over. But the man did not want to listen. We were told, KH and I, that as the current owners, we had to tell the man that we now own the house and he has to go. But how to talk to someone we can't even see for crying out loud? Dad's friend said, just say it in your mind - he will hear it.

The long and short of it is, if he refused to go, then a priest would have to be called in to bless the house. That would be the only way.

Well we tried talking but it seemed like the guy didn't want to leave.

So we finally called in a priest. We didn't do it immediately - I hemmed and hawed about this, feeling a bit ridiculous about it. By then we decided to do something, I was heavily pregnant with Caitlin. My family was concerned and felt it would not be good to have the baby born and then return to an 'infested' house so they pushed me to do something about the situation.

Even the act of calling in a priest was very strange, very surreal. We didn't know who to call. And we wanted someone who had a reputation for casting out infestations from houses. The name Fr Simon P came up repeatedly. But try as I did, I could not get in touch with him. So my uncle, who is a staunch Catholic, tried to help us out. He went to the Major Seminary to ask around and Fr William told him to ask Fr Vincent.

That evening, my uncle went to ask Fr Vincent for help. He didn't make an appointment but Fr Vincent went up to him directly as if he knew my uncle was waiting to see him. When my uncle explained the situation, Father wanted to come immediately that very night.

When he did come to our house, it was a bright sunny morning. Father led the prayers and moved through the house, sprinkling holy water at everything. Later on, my uncle told us that at most house blessings, the sprinkling of holy water was a cursory one, a gesture in every room. But with Fr Vincent that day, he went to every room, every corner, in the house, outside the house. He even had to refill the water at one point! He zoomed in on certain antiques and ornaments we had and touched it with holy oil. Later he told us that we should refrain from buying too many antiques - one never knew where they came from, what history they had etc and sometimes, spirits of the past liked to dwell in these things. He also told us to put away, out of sight, our Venetian masks and any object that looked human but deformed or warped. So our Venetian masks have since gone into hiding at the back of the cupboard.

Since that time, its been peaceful and quiet. Except for that faceless woman near the water pot of course.

Last I posted in 2006, I said I was considering getting some help again. But I have not done anything since then. For now at least, the thought of bumping into our unwanted guest would keep Isaac away from his midnight visits to the study room. So that's got to be useful at least!

Things that go ring in the night!

Couple of days ago KH mentioned that the boys' room might be having another unwanted visitor, read 'ghost'. For those not in the know, this would not be the first time that our house has been the scene of spooky stuff. The last time it happened, we had to call a priest in to bless our house. Since then though, all has been peaceful on the spooky front. Well, more or less. Apart from the occasional strange sightings of strange long-haired woman hovering in the backyard area, but that's a story for another day. My house, the inside that is, has been a ghost-free zone for years.

Until now it seems.

KH said that he has been awakened by Isaac's alarm going off in the middle of the night and this has happened several times already. Each time he goes over, the boys are still in deep sleep and the alarm is screaming - and it is always at 2am sharp. Without fail.

The night before, he told me, he had seen Isaac set the alarm for 6am. Despite that, he was still awakened by the alarm going off - again, at 2am. A look at the clock confirmed the alarm setting - 2am. So the hairs on the back of his neck were decidedly standing.

I was sort of sceptical when he told me. But that very night, I was awakened by Isaac's alarm going off. KH was snoring in dreamland. I padded over to the boys' room and climbed up to Isaac's loft bed. Two things struck me immediately. First, the alarm was set at 1am. Second, the boy was not in bed.

I checked Owain - sound asleep. I checked the girls' room - sound asleep. I checked my room - nada. It was pitch dark down below in the living room. By this time, I was thoroughly alarmed and afraid. I woke KH up urgently and he did the same quick checks. We switched on all the lights. I called Isaac's name loudly.

Then suddenly came a voice:"Mom?" and he emerged from the darkness.

The following conversation took a slightly bizarre turn. He seemed hesitant and dazed. And to confess it, all sorts of wild thoughts ran through my mind. I checked him if he had a temperature, wondered if he was sleep-walking or yes (a bit goondu of me!), if he was possessed!

It was pitch dark below and I know Isaac has always been terrified of the dark. He would not even go upstairs if no one were there. He always had to coax his younger brother or sister to come with him. So for him to be downstairs, in the middle of the night, in pitch darkness, gosh, I was flummoxed!

We asked him why he was there but his answers were vague. He mumbled something about "going downstairs to look for the book", referring to his library book which had gone missing.

"At 1am in the middle of the night???" I went, disbelieving. "Why on earth? You don't have school tomorrow, you could have searched then."

"I thought I would have more time."

"What was so urgent about the book?"

"Well, the library lists are in there. Without the lists, we won't know when to return our books."

"But you know that we could go to the internet to check right? We've done this before."

"Ya..."

"And how could you look for anything in the darkness too? Why didn't you switch on the lights?"

"My eyes adjusted to the dark after a while."

I stress: this from a boy who is scared of his own shadow! I found it hard to believe that he would be awake at 1am, searching for a book in pitch darkness alone. But nonetheless, it was late, so I sent him back to bed, said a quick prayer for him (in case he was possessed - haha! His behaviour was certainly very unlike him, and weird enough!).

KH and I went back to bed. But we both could not sleep, so full of questions about the strangeness of the incident. After a while, KH jumped out of bed and went back to Isaac's room. He opened the door to find him sitting upright in bed, staring into the darkness outside his window.

"Why are you sitting up? Why aren't you sleeping?" the daddy asked.

"I don't know."

"What are you looking at?"

"Just the scenery." Huh? What scenery? Its absolutely dark outside - nothing to see!

I don't know why, but something made me go downstairs to have a look. I was feeling rather grim, I have to say. Once downstairs, I made my way to the side door and the study - this was the section where the strange apparition has been known to show up once in a while.

I realised there was a bluish light coming from the study room, not from any lamp or overhead light. The door was ajar, the curtain drawn. All very unusual to me. At that split moment, my hair really stood. But when I got nearer, I realised what it was - the light was coming from the computer screen.

Ah. So desu ne.

I knew immediately what was going on. I checked the PC - Yahoo was on. I checked my history - nothing. Either he was smart and quick enough to delete the history, or he simply didn't have enough time to really do what he wanted to do. I think it was the latter because he didn't bargain on me waking from his alarm clock as well, checking on him and setting off the whole chain of events.

I turned the PC off and went upstairs. This time, I was not so cordial. It was right in the midst of the PSLE and our friend was taking forbidden computer privileges in the dead of night. But I didn't come down too hard on him. Just pinned him to the truth - which he reluctantly admitted. I left the detailed interrogation to the morning. Just told him to go back to bed and never do this again.

The next day, I asked Lolita if she had ever heard anything since the wall between her room and the study was very thin. She told me that she hears the sound of the study room chair creaking and moving usually between 1am to 5am. But hey, when you hear things creaking in the middle of the night in a supposedly empty room, no sane person would check it out of course! And, she added, Isaac was increasingly harder to wake every morning. In the past, he would wake whenever the alarm went off in the morning. But these past few days, she has had to physically shake him awake.

I pieced it together and confronted him. He reluctantly came clean. I was not ballistic, just matter-of-fact. He needed good rest and it was PSLE time, so it was really very stupid of him to carry out such stunts at this time. I got an agreement from him not to repeat it. To drive the point home, I casually pointed out that we DO still have an unknown apparition wandering around the outside of our house and that study window is the exact same one where she has been spotted peering through. So sneaking down in pitch darkness in the middle of the night to that part of the house is definitely not a smart thing to do. He paled a bit, swallowed and said he would not do it again.

So the mystery of the ringing alarm clock at 2am is finally solved. Not a case of the spooks - just a rat sneaking around in the dead of night!

A birthday and a forum


Okay, this is rather a self-indulgent post, since I am writing about my birthday. I'll keep it short.


It was a Saturday like any other - marketing in the morning, ferrying the kids to various assorted classes.


KH and I had a nice 2 hours having morning brekkie in the lovely Botanic Gardens. This is not unusual or special because we usually do this every Saturday morning when the kids go for Berries. To kill time before picking them up, we usually hang out at the Botanic Gardens, or we head for the nurseries to pick up gardening supplies or the odd plant or two. Time alone, and time at the Botanics is always a pleasure. This time, Trin came with us. KH and I always get a kick out of grinning at each other and saying: Today, we are a one-child family!


Trin ran ahead of us all the time. Its always hard to keep her with us and she's always frantic to be let loose to run freely ahead. But the problem is, she goes so far and so fast she's usually out of sight. By the time we catch up, we are usually the recipients of annoyed glances from other parents or adults who tsk away at our 'irresponsibility' in letting a 2-year-old run ahead like that. I wish they would try taking charge of Trin for half an hour and just see!

The afternoon was spent at a residents' forum with the MP because of estate upgrading issues. They want to 'upgrade' our estate. And they plan to do this by putting up a godawful looking 'estates marker' at all the various entry points to our estates, pave the entry ways with red brick to make it 'distinctive'. They plan to upgrade our tiny park by adding exercise equipment too. But the worst of it is that they plan to COVER all our drains with cement slabs. That would be the end of my lovely moss-covered drain.

I have this thing for lovely glossy saturated green moss in the slopes of my drain, on the pavements etc. We live in an old estate and all these little things give it a dignified patina that newer concretised estates lack. So I will be very very sorry to see all that go. That also means they will take away all our 'ledges'. Right now, as with the design of old terrace houses, every house comes with a concrete ledge just outside the gates. This has been a lovely place for us in the evenings to just shoot the breeze, chat with neighbours walking dogs, pick up our children as they emerge from the school buses etc. These concrete slabs/seats have different treatment - some neighbours pave it over nicely with ceramic tiles, others leave it concrete but paint over it. It will be sad to see this go.

Why on earth can't we leave things be and enjoy the distinctive and unique characteristics of old estates? Why must Singaporeans have this insatiable urge to 'upgrade' everything old they see? Not everything new is nice or tasteful. Don't even get me started on the big joke they call 'conservation' in heritage districts like Chinatown!

I wasn't the only one who pleaded for things to remain as they were, a very articulate Ms Dawn Kua (whose name I recognise from the Cat Welfare Society) and another gentleman also stood up to say this. He said, rightfully, that we live in a tropical society and we have lived with open monsoon drains for decades. This has worked well because it is easy to maintain. So why rock the boat with closed drains which may present a maintenance problem?

I couldn't agree more but the powers that be seemed to have made their minds up. This seems to be quite common in Singapore. Both Dawn and several others suggested that votes be taken on this and other contentious issues such as the removal of the traffic restrictions. But all this fell on deaf ears. They said they had sent out one survey form, conducted this current forum and that's already very 'consultative' and to bring the issue to a vote would only make the process more protracted than it is.

I wonder what the rush is. But I think this is very typical. Conduct 'surveys' and congratulate themselves on being 'consultative'. Hold a forum but instead of spending time listening to what people have to say, they are busy being defensive.

I left the forum feeling quite annoyed and defeated. I have decided to talk to some neighbours and see what they think. If they agree that the drains should not be covered and if they vote against the road widening (all of 20cm for crying out loud!! What on earth would be the bloody point of spending thousands of tax dollars, create noise, disrupt traffic etc just to widen the road 20cm barely the width of one tire!) then maybe we can bring this up to the MP and his pals and say we don't want this, leave us out of it.

But my sad guess is that Singaporeans want anything 'new' and 'new' is automatically assumed to be 'better', so I am likely to stand alone in this. Sometimes I wonder that I am Singaporean!

Luckily my day ended on a nice note. We had to go to my cousin's housewarming. Midway, a cake was brought out and birthday song sung by all my relatives, my family etc. It was lovely. I thought it was very sweet of KH, who sneaked out while I was at the forum, to buy the cake, drive all the way across the island to my cousin's place to store the cake in the fridge before returning to pick the rest of us up. Also, very sweet of Gillian who had the same idea of surprising me with the cake, but who was one step behind her daddy.

So just like that, the day ended.

And now, I am 40.

Selling breastfeeding - warts and all

This is the crux of a perennial debate going on between mothers who do and mothers who don't breastfeed.

Having been on both banks of the river, I've always found it interesting to listen to the ongoing debate. It is one that can get really loud and passionate. Because at the very heart of this, it is not about defending a product ie the quality of breastmilk vs the quality of formula - though both are very valid issues. Rather, it is the defense of an ideal of motherhood.

When you consider that throughout history, across cultures, the image of motherhood is consistently personified by a mother with a baby at the breast, it is not difficult to understand why breastfeeding forms the sensitive core of our definition of womanhood and motherhood. Women everywhere debate this - within themselves, with other women, with doctors etc. This is why guilt is such a key issue in any formula vs breast debate.

What makes a good mother? If I choose the path less travelled, am I less of a mother? If I choose not to give my baby 'the best', do I freely admit this as a lifestyle choice I have made, or do I cloak under the excuse of 'not enough milk' and be defensive about my choices? On the other hand, what about mothers who breastfeed but do not enjoy it, mothers who decide to "breastfeed only the acceptable minimum period - ie 6 months, or a year or whatever the authorities decide is recommended". Does this make them better mothers than mothers who choose not to breastfeed at all? Or what about mothers who breastfeed all the way, and are in favour of child-led weaning?

It would be easy, according to your own value systems, to place such mothers on pedestals. But this would be overly simplistic and in the end, just not a fair assessment. Motherhood is touchy business.

So whenever people debate the merits of formula vs breast, I think they are debating deeper issues. And in my view, there are no winners, only opinions.

To me, breast is not about just infant feeding or infant nutrition. Clearly when you look at the facts, there is no contention that formula is vastly inferior. But breastfeeding goes far beyond just a dietary choice. There is emotional baggage attached to it - if not for the mother, certainly for the baby. Hence the mother who is eager to wean and baby who is not eager and in fact, exceedingly reluctant. When you get this sort of dichotomy, then any weaning efforts can potentially be painful - for both mother and baby.

I wonder if this is something all new mothers are told. Often, in my work when I meet mothers, they invariably say: oh sure, I'd like to breastfeed if I can. But this is because they have been told that 'breast is best'. And nowhere in the fine print are they told about the amount of attachment that breastfeeding commands in a relationship. Maybe they know vaguely about bonding, but I suspect they don't think so far as to what this exactly means - WHO is bonded? For how long?

Well and good if a mother enjoys nursing her baby - the ride is likely to be smoother and the baby nursed for longer. But imagine if they don't enjoy it? Chafe at the lack of 'freedom'? Resent frequent feedings and so on? Many women don't expect how much hard work breastfeeding can be. Many women come into the maternal relationship expecting auto bonding and for breastfeeding to 'come naturally'. But it isn't always so.

In the interests of making informed choices, perhaps birth educators, lactation consultants and breastfeeding counsellors should be honest and upfront about these issues as well. By all means, give the facts on the superiority of breastmilk, but make it clear that it demands commitment, hard work and perseverance as well. And the fruits of all this hard work? Ah, then we can 'sell' the merits of breastfeeding.

For now, in case anyone wants to see an interesting fact-based debate on formula-feeding, they can access this site: http://www.opposingviews.com/questions/will-formula-feeding-harm-my-baby

This is a debate between a La Leche League representative and Dr Joan B Wolf from Texas A&M University. Like I said, this debate is perennial. But it is never boring.

My last hours of being 39...

...are spent nursing a bad headache. Chalk it down to a combination of the flu and over-eating.

Today was the day of my big pig-out luxe lunch. And boy, did I pig out.

It rained earlier when I left the house so I was not confident about getting a good view from the lofty heights of Equinox. But the rain soon cleared up and up there, while not blue skies and sunshine, it was clear enough to see quite far.

I was given a good seat next to the window. From there I could see Esplanade Drive, which has been turned into part of the track for the F1 night race. The road was empty far down below, all ready for the practice sessions to come later in the afternoon. I would be long gone by then, but till then, I could still enjoy the rest of the view. The Singapore River was one long, BROWN ribbon of water snaking its way past the shophouses and skyscrapers. I was taken aback at the Milo colour - two years ago when I sat at the very same spot, it was all bluish-green. So what happened? Was it the construction of the Marina barrage or was it the IR coming up?

The spread of dishes for the buffet was pretty much the same - it was not very wide, but it had all my favourites. So I feasted on oysters on ice, four different types of sashimi, various sushi, zaru soba (cold Japanese noodles), prawn salad, and of course, my foie gras. I think I overdid it on the foie gras, going back four times for the sinful little slabs. In between food, I was transported to life in Tahiti in my current favourite trilogy of novels from Tahitian writer Celestine Hitiura Vaite. Dessert was yummy creme brulee, bread and butter pudding with vanilla sauce, tiramisu and raspberry and pear sorbet.

I think the cooking was not remarkable, but still serviceable. The buffet comprised only appetizers and dessert. For $10 more you could have a main course from the menu, but I wanted to concentrate on the oysters and the foie gras so I gave it a miss. The buffet spread did contain small chinese saucers of cod with french beans in a white buttery sauce, which was quite tasty, so that satisfied any craving I had for a main course.

I sat there eating and reading and perfectly content for almost two and a half hours. Initially, I did wonder if I was setting myself up for an uncomfortable experience - going alone for a chi-chi lunch. But once there, I felt okay. I was probably the only one lunching alone, but I didn't mind. The book was perfect company. By the time I had to go, I had finished the book. It was a good book and it was a good lunch!

To make myself feel a bit less guilty about all that foie gras now sending my cholesterol to stratospheric heights, I decided to walk from Raffles City to The Cathay and to Plaza Singapura. Down in Raffles City, the mood was definitely buzzing because of the F1. I don't follow the F1 so I wouldn't know who was who even if the drivers themselves bumped into me! But there were lots of women there, dressed in bright vermillion orange crew suits. Were they crew? I can't imagine them changing tires in the pit, but they sure looked the part!

So here I am, hours away from turning 40.

I had a nice afternoon, just walking in the sunshine. And I think, my life has not been bad. I am in a good place where I am now.

Healthwise, I know things could be better. I saw the doctor on Tuesday for my blood pressure. He was left shaking his head: pressure still not well controlled despite the addition of the diuretic. I showed him my urine sticks to ascertain that they were indeed testing for protein leaks and not microalbumin. He agreed. So this means my kidneys are definitely starting to leak protein. He wanted to add an ACE Inhibitor to my drug cocktail to help control the BP better and to protect the kidneys. But because I was still breastfeeding, this would not be possible. So the poor guy had to spend some time cracking his brains about what could be prescribed for me. In the end, he decided to just up my dosage of the diuretic to see if this has any effect. But he didn't look optimistic. I will see him in two months and he has ordered a blood test to check on renal function.

I'm sure he would appalled if he saw the amount of oysters and foie gras I was piling on! But heck, I don't turn 40 everyday.

It just occurred to me that I can now safely be called 'middle-aged'. Since life expectancy for women are in the mid-80s, I reckon that I have just about made it to the middle of my lifespan. Half my life is over. The other half awaits.

When I turned 30, I had already given birth to 2 children, headed a magazine, head-hunted to start another (but turned it down), and had just sold my house. Today, on the brink of 40, I have 5 children (3 that came in the 10 years that passed between 30 and 40!), gotten my graduate diploma, down-shifted to a half-time job, got offered another editorship but turned it down again, have my own little business and am now living in my tiny yellow house.

Life has a funny way of moving around. At 30, I could never have imagined myself to be where I am now. So I wonder what I will be when I hit the next milestone - 50!

But first, there's 40 to deal with. And that happens in just a couple of hours.

Hard core

I need help. Seriously. I have an internet addiction that is ruining my life slowly but surely.

Its not Facebook. Not MySpace. Not Friendster. It's not even email anymore. It is nothing remotely social even.

Its Big Money. I am addicted to it.

Ever since I repaired the home PC, forked out about $300 for a new hard disk, upgrade my RAM etc, the home PC is now as good as new and my internet connections fixed and raring to go. With the kids, we re-discovered the joys of Pop Cap games, Mini-Clip, Nitrome etc.

And now I am hooked. My drug of choice: Big Money. Its the new version of Collapse. Keep clicking on the coloured balls and grabbing money bags to advance. Each level you clear gives you a title - from Pauper to Chairman of the Board.

My right shoulder is slightly numb now as I type this - after an hour of mindless clicking. My right index finger is frozen and stiff.

My kids are going to seed outside, unsupervised, unstimulated, unchallenged and uncared for. They run around in a variety of chocolate-stained t-shirts, and soggy diapers. I holler out commands from my desk while glued to my PC. Commands like: "Stop that at once or else!" and "If I hear one more argle-bargle!!" I try to tell myself its not so bad - at least I am not in the office. The kids can hear me, even if they can't see me. And if they do want to see me, they just have to wait until I finish one level, not the whole game. This is bad isn't it?

I only pause for toilet breaks.

Right now, the baby nurses at the PC. Heck. The baby has gotten into the game too! She not only can finish up to Level 2 unassisted (her rank is Ditch Digger), she can now officially recognise the word 'Big' - she pointed it out to me when she saw the word in a newspaper headline. That should tell you how hooked I am, how many hours I have lavished to earning my virtual big bucks online and how many times baby has nursed at the keyboard while I am frantically clicking away.

I need help. I have to break this addiction. But the bloody PC is so damn tempting! Should have just let the PC die. As it is, with all the wanton clicking, the mouse is dying a slow but inexorable death, losing responsiveness day by day.

And to make me feel worse, right outside me now, I can see my neighbour - the model mom. She's not clicking away, cooped up in a room, uncaring of her kids. She's out there, in her model garden - gardening! Her kids are her assistants, handing her stuff she needs. Spending time together fruitfully. Probably learning something along the way... While, me? I call my kids to me in excitement everytime I hit a high score.

It makes me ashamed to say this, but I even took a picture of the screen when I hit Chairman of the Board. Just to prove to the kids that I have been where none have been before.

To make me feel somewhat better, I share strategy tips with the kids - like how you should not just randomly click, but be patient and wait until enough balls fill more than half the screen and then you click at the bottom to form large chunks - more points that way. Sorry. This is only relevant if you are as addicted to Big Money as I am.

So the kids and I have an unofficial competition. Gillian, Isaac and I are Chairmen of the Board. But I win in terms of high score. Heh.

Okay, got to go. Its dinner time. But before that, maybe just one more game for the road...

Updates on the Fishball

Fishball, aka Owain, is always so affectionately sweet.

Like my knight, he defends me against all slurs - his daddy teasingly accused me of being greedy last night (In all honesty, I probably was being greedy, having polished half a plate of oyster omelette, a bowl of prawn noodles and two mega mugs of sugar cane juice!!) and my knight in shining armour immediately leaped to my defence. He growled back at his daddy: Don't call her that! Mummy is not greedy. She is perfect! She's the best mummy in the whole world!

Then last night, after all that food and a walk round the neighbourhood, I lay on the floor and drifted into a nap. Along came a familiar little voice that asked very solicitiously: Mummy, mummy, would you like to go upstairs to sleep?

I must have mumbled something and the little voice floated back: Can I get you a pillow for your head mummy? And the next thing I knew, I heard him say: Here mummy, I've brought some pillows for you. Lift your head up so I can put them under you... there, and here are some more pillows... (he placed one on each side of my face, effectively covering me under the cushions!)

Later when I roused myself and went upstairs to his room, I was still feeling sleepy, so I sat on the floor and rested my head against his bed rail, closing my eyes. He came in, full of concern and said: Mummy, would you like to lie on my bed? Its more comfy for you. I can sleep on the floor.

When I declined, he thought for a while and said: Mummy, here. Here's my pillow. I can sleep without a pillow. Let me put my pillow on this (the bed rail) so it won't be so hard on you.

I declined yet again and he offered me his comforter. I assured him I was okay and tucked him in nicely, told him a bedtime story before saying good night.

That's Owain for you - always considerate of others, full of TLC.

Its not the first time that he's thought of the comfort of others. Even KH agrees - wheneverOwain cuddled with daddy on the sofa, he would always make sure daddy was comfy, offering to turn on the fan, fetch cushions, position himself nicely etc. In school, whenever Trin cries (and that is pretty much every time she goes to school!), he would spend time with her, sitting with her, stroking her hair, trying to distract her, play with her etc until she stopped crying. My friend related this incident when we went to the zoo together with both our families. Her little girl was asking her about getting some apple juice. Owain was walking several meters ahead of them and overheard. Immediately he turned around and offered her his apple juice. "You can have mine," he said. My friend's daughter said no, but my friend was struck by his spontaneity and kindness.

He's really sweet, that fishball son of mine. I love him to bits! Everyone says I am very bad - picking favourites, but I can't help it. He's got such a loving, winning, sunny nature.

For the umpteenth time, I wonder what I did to deserve such a sweet-natured kid. Did nursing him for so long have a part to play? Was it because I practiced more attachment parenting principles with him, Cait and Trin than the rest? Whatever it is, I loath the days passing and my boy growing up. All these beautiful days where I am the sole object of his adoration will soon go. For now, I am, in his words, his "queen" and "bestest mummy". But once past a certain age all that loving affection and loyalty may end. So I should treasure it all while it lasts, and record all these gems of days in my memory.

Speaking of days, these days Owain and I have a project.

He's been complaining of boredom. Nothing to do, he says, its so boring! He would love nothing more than to play on the computer, internet games from Nitrome or Mini-Clip, but I can't have that all the time - hence his complaints of 'boredom'. Even those puzzle IQ games we've bought have fizzled thin with him. He hardly touched the Safari game and he finished River-Crossing in less than two weeks! To his credit, he is not a TV person and does not particularly hanker for TV-time. I don't want to pile worksheets on him either.

So I have been racking my brains on how to manage this - finding an activity that would stimulate, challenge him and keep him occupied?

Quite by chance, I hit on the solution. Eileen, the director from Lumiere Montessori, Owain's school, suggested letting him type words on the PC. So I went home and fleshed out the idea - not merely typing words (which helps him learn how to spell and how to read), but typing with a purpose. This also gives him something to do with the computer that is different from just playing games.

So we sit together and Owain tells me what he wants to say, I write out the sentences - nothing long, just simple ones like "I am five years old. I like to eat sushi." Then he types out the sentences, we plan the layout and the font etc and I draw an empty box. We print the page out. He then draws a picture in the box, colours it. When we get enough pages, we will collate this into a book.

The idea caught fire with him and his eyes lit up. His first question was: "Can we sell the book and make lots of money???"

Entrepreneurial boy. Okay, I said, but it will only make money if it is interesting so you've got to write interesting things in it and draw interesting pictures. He nodded, eyes shining in anticipation. We've started doing this already and we plan to do at least one page a day. I plan to gradually get him to think about stories, write them out and type them in too. Hopefully this project will sustain his interest for a bit longer! And who knows? It might just grow into a really big, nice book that records his thoughts and his days as a five-year-old.

Sore about it

When it comes to health problems (for me at least), it seems to never rain but always pour!

First it was the high BP (which by the way does not seem well controlled even with the additional diuretic - last night I recorded a BP of 134/105. Could be because I was in discomfort/pain, but generally over the past nights when I checked, the diastolic still hovered around 95 to 98.), then it was the dang prolapse, and now, its the right breast.

The right breast has always been 'Owain's breast'. Ever since Trin was born and I tandem-nursed them both, one kept to the right, the other to the left. This has stayed until the day Owain stopped nursing. Even now, Trin keeps to the left. So the right breast has been unused for almost a year already.

The last time I tried hand expressing to see what came out of the right breast, all I got was oil seeping out of the pores and some thickened milk solids.

My breasts have always been lumpy. And since I am turning 40 soon, it was always at the back of my mind that I should be going for the usual exams - a pap smear, a mammogram. But thanks to the cost, I keep putting this off.

Knowing that my breasts are always lumpy, I never saw cause for concern. But two nights ago, while lying down, I was idly doing a breast exam, just feeling around the rim of the right breast when I noticed a mass near the wall of the breast. This has always been there but I could not be sure if this was just ligament or muscle connective tissue or was it a real mass. The same area on the left breast did not seem so enlarged or prominent. It didn't hurt as I palpated it. So I just sort of filed it away mentally as a note to "remember to book a slot for a full exam soon".

But something must have niggled at me. The next day I tried hand expressing again and this time, not only the usual oil oozed out, but also a stream of pus. Eeks! I hope no one is reading this while eating!

I could not be sure at first and thought it was milk changes again. But the breast did feel lumpy and was starting to be a bit sore and tender. The more I expressed, the more pus oozed out.

So I think I must have some sort of breast abscess. I have not nursed for so many months on that breast, so I cannot understand why or how I could get any form of breast infection. But as the afternoon wore on, it began to feel more and more like a plugged duct, bordering on mastitis. I know I have been feeling a bit fluey and under the weather generally, and the trip to Malaysia over the weekend also left me pooped. My sleep at night has been interrupted by bouts of anxiety that wake me and leave me feeling restless and worried (Don't ask me what I am worried about! I just get a sense that something is UP.)

So maybe all this could have triggered some form of breast infection??

Right now the right side is definitely tender when probed. It does not hurt otherwise. It also feels warmer to the touch than the left. So it does feel like plugged ducts. But as the how and why, since I am no longer lactating on that side, I am absolutely clueless.

I have made an appointment at the KK Breast Centre and the earliest appointment is for Tuesday. But since I am already in some form of discomfort, I think I'd just go queue at the polyclinic later today and get some pain-killers or something. I would like to avoid the antibiotics, but I don't see how that would be possible. I'll just have to dose myself concurrently with probiotics then. Maybe the polyclinic would give me a referral to the Breast Centre - so any investigations done would be a lot less expensive! I would imagine that any preliminary exam would also include an ultrasound of the breast and possibly mammography as well. All that would certainly cost an arm and a leg if done as a private patient!

Not quite a sore spot after all

I feel better. I really do.

I can actually read the huge, two-page display in the Sunday Times on the marriage and parenthood perks without feeling like throwing up!

For my current state of well-being, I have SJI Jr to thank! On Friday night, despite the rain, Isaac and I went for the PSLE mass in the school hall. I've always liked school masses - reminds me so much of those wonderful masses held in the Marymount chapel back in school. Something about the simplicity of the set-up, the presence of young boys and girls etc, even the hymns sung, always makes me feel nostalgic.

The gospel reading spoke about having trust in God. Why worry, it said, for if God will take care of the lilies in the field, surely He will take care of you. Immediately I felt better - like someone gave me a good much-needed kick in the head. Ah, a moment of clarity!

All this time, for KH and I, we have always believed that what God gives, God will provide for. We never needed any Baby Bonus to seal that belief or to drive our actions and our decisions.

God will provide. He always does. I felt relieved at that reminder and yet sheepishly stupid - what had I been thinking, and being so miserable for over the past week? What a waste of time and what a twat I was! How could I ever doubt Him?

So God worked it out in such a way that the financial incentives don't really come to us, but He has His reasons surely. And of course, He has always seen us through and He would never abandon us.

I thought about how, whenever money was tight, there would always been some coming in from somewhere at the most unexpected moments - not through windfalls like Toto (though KH wishes!!) but through, say, an unexpected private class or two that I would be asked to give etc. And that, often, is just enough to meet the shortfall that I am struggling to make up for.

Over the years, I have come to realise that His ways are not our ways and sometimes they are downright baffling! But one thing is clear - He never gives us more than we want or too little, He always gives us 'just right'. Even when He gives us Toto! (the last time we won the lottery was in 1992 and even then, we only got about $3000 and it was enough to subsidise our honeymoon in Hawaii - we would never have been able to go for one otherwise!)

So I feel loads better. He has given us the tax rebates and that will help of course. I am happier today than I was last week.

PMO also replied to my emotional outburst - just a standard reply to say they can't accede to my suggestions etc and they hope I understand. Well, I might not agree, but I do understand. I think that coming out of all this is at least the knowledge that the PM reads our stuff, has his inbox always open for us and is ready to listen. How many heads of state do this? So for that at least, I am glad.

With all this, I can't say I am not tempted to have Baby number 6. My mother, as expected, said pointblank when I saw her on Sunday: Don't Even Think About It! My aunt, who was present, gave the good news that my cousin was expecting number 5 - so she joins the ranks of Big Families! With that, I am no longer the anomaly in the family. Someone else in the family shares the same insanity gene. And of course, reading the Sunday Times gave a pleasant surprise (Congratulations Serene!! Seven!!) .

But I come swiftly back down to earth in the evening when Trinity went into one of her obstinate moods - first she refused to get into the car seat and KH had to drive off, send the kids home and then come back for us. I don't like pandering to it so I just sat with her at mom's void deck - either she got into the car or we would just stay at the void deck. It took a while, much enraged jumping up and down and infuriated screaming (by her!) before she would agree to let me bring her to the car and strap her in. Then later at night, she refused to wear her PJs after her bath at night, and last night was cold thanks to the incessant rain! Grrr....

I find dealing with her tantrums tiring and rather annoying. I've come to the stage when I feel like I have less patience for all this. Its not like I don't understand that this is 'normal', she is testing the limits and as a parent, I should think of more creative responses instead of "Stop it or else!" But catch me when I am physically tired and I am pretty much brain-dead when it comes to creative and sensitive parenting.

So with all this, and of course, the thought of starting all over again with a new baby - God help me! - with the breastfeeding (and with eczemic nipples!), the diapering, etc etc... all makes me feel very tired. Yes, I would love to have the birth I've always wanted, but what happens after birth? The work has only just begun and I'm not sure that the idea of a homebirth and the government's parenthood package is enough justification for another 21 years of angst over a kid!

So the odds are that we will remain as a family of 7 instead of 8. (Ivan, better not bet on this - you're more likely to lose this one!) Still, never say never. If God chooses to give us one more, He will. And if that happens, tired or not, I'll just have to rise to the challenges and do it all over again! I just found it very interesting that the timing of all these announcements come right when I am contemplating a hysterectomy! Er, is God telling me something?? I always said He's got a real warped sense of humour with lots of inside jokes that only He gets!