Isaac's journey!
I am so chuffed with pride!
KH and I are invited to attend the SJI Junior Prize-giving Ceremony on 9 Apr. Isaac will be receiving a Merit Award during the ceremony.
He got the invite at school yesterday and was so happy that he called me on his handphone right in the middle of the school day! I was in a meeting and could hardly make sense of his excited stream of words. And when I came home, he was running out to greet me waving the green invite.
Tomorrow we will be attending the Kumon award ceremony where he will receive his Achiever award. I will be there to clap for him since KH will be busy chauffering the kids to and from other activities.
With the fashion show on next week, two award ceremonies coming up, our friend is in a real anxious/excited/scary/happy flap. I'm glad. It's a nice feeling to have.
Looking back, who would have thought?
If, 8 years ago, you'd told me that I would one day be attending award ceremonies for this boy, I would not have believed you. Not when everything seemed so dark and hopeless back then - when he was displaying all his weird behavior, when we were told that he was likely to be autistic and required therapy and certainly not in my blackest moods when everything we read about autism told us that it was incurable and lifelong.
He's come a long long way. I'm so thankful to God that our path has turned out thus.
I know autism can never be cured. And till today, I scratch my head wondering how we got here when psychologist after psychologist could not conclusively say yes or no to his autism - he is and yet, he isn't. At P1 when the KKH psych gave us the final low-down, unable to explain Isaac's development, unwilling to label him as autistic yet unable to definitively dismiss it, I was just happy to accept this. Happy to hear that somehow, by some miracle, he 'got out' of autism - something technically impossible.
But yet, reflecting on this today, I don't think Isaac will ever be totally free of the 'autistic' label.
As he grows older, the strange quirks become more obvious. He still has very faint lingering traces of autistic behavior - the stims (playing with his fingers), the echolalic behavior (yes, he does echo himself!), the awkward social behavior, the preference to stay in his own world (yes, he does play with other kids, but if you watch carefully, after a while, he will retreat), the sometimes staccato way that he speaks (my mother is always amused/appalled by this!).
Last year, two of his teachers asked as delicately as they could, if Isaac "had a problem in any way". They could not pin him down - he was quiet, well-behaved, finished his work on time, did not go on a testosterone overdrive and was just not like the other boys in class, they said.
I remember KH and I looking at each other then - for years we had not told the school Isaac's history, preferring to let him be as 'normal' as possible until someone saw or suspected something - and since the time had come, we decided to let them know. And when we finished telling them, they sighed and said, yes we suspected it might be something like that but could not say for sure what it was. This year, one month into the new school year, his form teacher had asked us the same question - commenting that Isaac was "very different" from the rest of the boys.
So I guess maybe he never was totally free of being 'autistic'. Maybe he is an exceptionally high-functioning Asperger's Syndrome. Whatever it is, he will always be a bit different and maybe labelled as the sort of guy who straddles the fine lines between 'weird'/'geek'/'strange'. I don't know. For now, I just want to sit back for a moment, think about him and let myself feel as proud and happy as I can be for my boy.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Dodging dad...
Everyday at 6pm, Isaac or Gillian would get on the phone with KH and the conversation would go something like thus:
Kids: "So er, dad? What time are you coming home?"
KH: "Don't know. Late. Don't wait for me. Eat first."
Kids: "Yeah okay, but about WHAT time dad?"
KH: "I dunno. Maybe around 8 or 8.30pm?"
They ask not because they miss their dear ol' dad. But because they need to plan. Isaac, looking very serious, would then say thoughtfully to himself: "Hmm, 8pm... okay, that gives me an hour to eat, have some ice-cream, read a bit and quickly go to bed and fall asleep before dad gets home!"
And the reason behind such careful planning? Feigning sleep to avoid their dad giving them the third degree about homework, checking work, correcting it, chewing them out if it's badly done, re-doing it and being given work for the next day. I laughed when I heard and told KH about it.
He grinned and said, I know what they're up to but I don't care. They don't have a choice. I know they are pretending to sleep when I get home. But I just stand in their room, and tell them as loudly as I can, what work they have to do tomorrow anyway!
Yep, KH is the real Simon Legree in this house. It is he who goes through their homework (every night when they do not succeed in dodging!) , coaches them, yells at them, tests them on their spelling/science facts etc, sets goals for them, assigns them work, buys the assessment books etc.
Not me.
I have long abdicated this role. Especially since we found out that I had high blood pressure. After one or two bad bouts with Gillian when my face went tomato red and BP shot up, I gave up. I also felt that coaching Gillian was a real strain on our relationship as mother and daughter.
So after that, KH and I now have a tacit understanding that I focus more on the three babies while he tackles the older two's schoolwork.
Coaching Isaac in schoolwork is not as bad as coaching Gillian. There have been many explosions in the Chong household over Gillian's work, especially when it comes to maths. I don't blame KH for exploding - because it is highly, incredibly frustrating. Her lack of attention, inability to process logic and sequence, inability to retain information... arrgh!! I invite anyone who pooh-poohs this to just give it a try - coach Gillian for a week in maths and see if they don't explode.
Nonetheless, when things look like they are about to really go bazookas (I gauge this by the increasing decibel level of KH's yells, the increase in the number of times he pounds on the table), I step in. And that's how we've always worked - KH and I - when one of us is about to explode, the other steps in and tries to defuse the situation.
The only thing I 'coach' the older kids in is English. I mark their work, check the compos, explain where they went wrong etc. But the last is something I hate doing, so I am (guiltily) quite laidback about this - to KH's disapproval! Nothing personal it's just that I find it so difficult to explain English - what to me is so natural and just sheer common sense. I hate the grammar work and can never fathom the differences in the terminology. To me, English is just English - makes sense in the way I write and talk. Now how do you explain that? So it's not that I am lazy about it, but some things are just so hard to explain!
So I totally take my hat off to KH. He works hard in the day, comes back by 8pm, sometimes later, has his dinner, starts work with the kids. And when everyone is asleep, he opens up his laptop and works until midnight or 1am.
I guess I am lucky to have him. It is a load off my shoulders. The kids though, don't know how lucky they are - they're too busy dodging him!
Everyday at 6pm, Isaac or Gillian would get on the phone with KH and the conversation would go something like thus:
Kids: "So er, dad? What time are you coming home?"
KH: "Don't know. Late. Don't wait for me. Eat first."
Kids: "Yeah okay, but about WHAT time dad?"
KH: "I dunno. Maybe around 8 or 8.30pm?"
They ask not because they miss their dear ol' dad. But because they need to plan. Isaac, looking very serious, would then say thoughtfully to himself: "Hmm, 8pm... okay, that gives me an hour to eat, have some ice-cream, read a bit and quickly go to bed and fall asleep before dad gets home!"
And the reason behind such careful planning? Feigning sleep to avoid their dad giving them the third degree about homework, checking work, correcting it, chewing them out if it's badly done, re-doing it and being given work for the next day. I laughed when I heard and told KH about it.
He grinned and said, I know what they're up to but I don't care. They don't have a choice. I know they are pretending to sleep when I get home. But I just stand in their room, and tell them as loudly as I can, what work they have to do tomorrow anyway!
Yep, KH is the real Simon Legree in this house. It is he who goes through their homework (every night when they do not succeed in dodging!) , coaches them, yells at them, tests them on their spelling/science facts etc, sets goals for them, assigns them work, buys the assessment books etc.
Not me.
I have long abdicated this role. Especially since we found out that I had high blood pressure. After one or two bad bouts with Gillian when my face went tomato red and BP shot up, I gave up. I also felt that coaching Gillian was a real strain on our relationship as mother and daughter.
So after that, KH and I now have a tacit understanding that I focus more on the three babies while he tackles the older two's schoolwork.
Coaching Isaac in schoolwork is not as bad as coaching Gillian. There have been many explosions in the Chong household over Gillian's work, especially when it comes to maths. I don't blame KH for exploding - because it is highly, incredibly frustrating. Her lack of attention, inability to process logic and sequence, inability to retain information... arrgh!! I invite anyone who pooh-poohs this to just give it a try - coach Gillian for a week in maths and see if they don't explode.
Nonetheless, when things look like they are about to really go bazookas (I gauge this by the increasing decibel level of KH's yells, the increase in the number of times he pounds on the table), I step in. And that's how we've always worked - KH and I - when one of us is about to explode, the other steps in and tries to defuse the situation.
The only thing I 'coach' the older kids in is English. I mark their work, check the compos, explain where they went wrong etc. But the last is something I hate doing, so I am (guiltily) quite laidback about this - to KH's disapproval! Nothing personal it's just that I find it so difficult to explain English - what to me is so natural and just sheer common sense. I hate the grammar work and can never fathom the differences in the terminology. To me, English is just English - makes sense in the way I write and talk. Now how do you explain that? So it's not that I am lazy about it, but some things are just so hard to explain!
So I totally take my hat off to KH. He works hard in the day, comes back by 8pm, sometimes later, has his dinner, starts work with the kids. And when everyone is asleep, he opens up his laptop and works until midnight or 1am.
I guess I am lucky to have him. It is a load off my shoulders. The kids though, don't know how lucky they are - they're too busy dodging him!
Book Report
Yesterday I saw Owain sitting at the little dining table by himself, absorbed in... a book!! Okay, a comic book - with lots of pictures. It was a comic dad bought for Cait - Winx Club.
Owain was very involved in turning the pages, pointing to some frames along the way. I think this is pre-reading behaviour. Does not matter that he can't actually read the words but the fact that he knows it tells a story, has interesting pictures, and hooks him enough to actually keep him flipping the pages, is good enough!
Lolita and I had a good laugh - he looked so cute sitting there, poring over the comic book. She told me that she's seen him even making up stories to go with the book! Apparently, Cait also does this - flips through books, makes up stories, and if its something that has been read to her, she remembers and parrots the text without actually reading it. Again, I think this is typical pre-reading behavior and something to be encouraged. So I am happy! They will learn to read when they're ready to learn to read. And from what I read, that's not likely until the age of 7!
Isaac is into books on ghosts and ghoulies! He enjoys the Mr Midnight series. And I saw a copy of Tekong Nightmares sitting on the table in the living room - apparently his friend passed it to him! Gillian calls this a 'toilet book' - because its just the sort of book to read in the loo! Trashy and riveting quick reading. Yesterday, I picked up Tekong Nightmares when I was bored while tandeming Owain and Trin and I was quickly hooked. In the 10 to 15min the babies took at the breast, I finished easily 7 or 8 stories. So very light, easy reading!
Other than that, he's still re-reading Harry Potter (and killing all my first edition copies! They have all either lost their covers, are tattered, missing pages or really dog-earred!). I have threatened to ban him from the next and final instalment of the HP series because of the way he treats my books. Despite many lectures on treating books with respect, somehow all the books he reads end up very tatty and torn.
Anyway, I am trying to interest him in L'Engle (which has a nice touch of Sci-Fi/ good values etc) but he does not seem keen. The boy is also into books on knights and damsels in distress. Can't remember the titles but it's pretty funny stuff. He's also finished the whole series of Unfortunate Events. So right now, there is a bit of a vacuum... maybe I'll lend him my copy of Eragon, subject to strict promises of good treatment!
Gillian, who hates reading, seems to finally dip her toe into the world of books a bit more. She's into a lovely Illustrated Compilation of Classic Faery Stories at the moment. Which is good 'cos the stories come in short snippets that succeed in holding her attention for the duration of the story.
KH? Too busy to read. Busy marking assessment papers (haha!) and working late into the night after the kids have gone to bed. Any leisure time he has he spends watching the EPL summary.
Mom is into my book: A Brief History of the Dead - very classy, very absorbing read. Good stuff. While some bits are a bit cheem and deserve a re-read, the plot is rich and the characters so real. The book talks about a city where the dead go after they die. Sort of like purgatory but without the suffering! They go there and continue their lives there. They live there until everyone who still holds them in their memory also dies. So basically, the premise is, death is not the end - we live on in the memories of others. And only when those who remember us die, only then are we permanently erased and our existence ceases to be. In the book, earth has experienced a plague and most of civilisation is wiped out. Except for a researcher stranded in Antarctica. What happens to her, and to the people in the city of the dead, those who are connected to her in one way or other, is the key plot in the book. I loved reading that and so did mom. I think I will enjoy reading that one again.
As for me, I'm in between books. Finished a trashy Olivia Goldsmith recently (yes Gayle, this one's got your name on it!). Ploughed though A Swiftly Tilting Planet by L'Engle. Have a tempting Georgette Heyer and Adriana Trigiani and another L'Engle still unread. And am halfway through a fascinating book on the interconnectivity of humans and other organisms (bacteria, viruses, fungi etc) and why we basically need disease to survive! Porridge-brained me can't remember the title now but it's a good read loaded with stuff you never knew was possible!
I really think its time to sell my books - they're over-flowing out of our bookshelves, stacking up on the floors and tables and in my bed. Maybe a book sale in my house? Kids could help run it. Price each book at $1 - $4... hmmm. Would people come?
Yesterday I saw Owain sitting at the little dining table by himself, absorbed in... a book!! Okay, a comic book - with lots of pictures. It was a comic dad bought for Cait - Winx Club.
Owain was very involved in turning the pages, pointing to some frames along the way. I think this is pre-reading behaviour. Does not matter that he can't actually read the words but the fact that he knows it tells a story, has interesting pictures, and hooks him enough to actually keep him flipping the pages, is good enough!
Lolita and I had a good laugh - he looked so cute sitting there, poring over the comic book. She told me that she's seen him even making up stories to go with the book! Apparently, Cait also does this - flips through books, makes up stories, and if its something that has been read to her, she remembers and parrots the text without actually reading it. Again, I think this is typical pre-reading behavior and something to be encouraged. So I am happy! They will learn to read when they're ready to learn to read. And from what I read, that's not likely until the age of 7!
Isaac is into books on ghosts and ghoulies! He enjoys the Mr Midnight series. And I saw a copy of Tekong Nightmares sitting on the table in the living room - apparently his friend passed it to him! Gillian calls this a 'toilet book' - because its just the sort of book to read in the loo! Trashy and riveting quick reading. Yesterday, I picked up Tekong Nightmares when I was bored while tandeming Owain and Trin and I was quickly hooked. In the 10 to 15min the babies took at the breast, I finished easily 7 or 8 stories. So very light, easy reading!
Other than that, he's still re-reading Harry Potter (and killing all my first edition copies! They have all either lost their covers, are tattered, missing pages or really dog-earred!). I have threatened to ban him from the next and final instalment of the HP series because of the way he treats my books. Despite many lectures on treating books with respect, somehow all the books he reads end up very tatty and torn.
Anyway, I am trying to interest him in L'Engle (which has a nice touch of Sci-Fi/ good values etc) but he does not seem keen. The boy is also into books on knights and damsels in distress. Can't remember the titles but it's pretty funny stuff. He's also finished the whole series of Unfortunate Events. So right now, there is a bit of a vacuum... maybe I'll lend him my copy of Eragon, subject to strict promises of good treatment!
Gillian, who hates reading, seems to finally dip her toe into the world of books a bit more. She's into a lovely Illustrated Compilation of Classic Faery Stories at the moment. Which is good 'cos the stories come in short snippets that succeed in holding her attention for the duration of the story.
KH? Too busy to read. Busy marking assessment papers (haha!) and working late into the night after the kids have gone to bed. Any leisure time he has he spends watching the EPL summary.
Mom is into my book: A Brief History of the Dead - very classy, very absorbing read. Good stuff. While some bits are a bit cheem and deserve a re-read, the plot is rich and the characters so real. The book talks about a city where the dead go after they die. Sort of like purgatory but without the suffering! They go there and continue their lives there. They live there until everyone who still holds them in their memory also dies. So basically, the premise is, death is not the end - we live on in the memories of others. And only when those who remember us die, only then are we permanently erased and our existence ceases to be. In the book, earth has experienced a plague and most of civilisation is wiped out. Except for a researcher stranded in Antarctica. What happens to her, and to the people in the city of the dead, those who are connected to her in one way or other, is the key plot in the book. I loved reading that and so did mom. I think I will enjoy reading that one again.
As for me, I'm in between books. Finished a trashy Olivia Goldsmith recently (yes Gayle, this one's got your name on it!). Ploughed though A Swiftly Tilting Planet by L'Engle. Have a tempting Georgette Heyer and Adriana Trigiani and another L'Engle still unread. And am halfway through a fascinating book on the interconnectivity of humans and other organisms (bacteria, viruses, fungi etc) and why we basically need disease to survive! Porridge-brained me can't remember the title now but it's a good read loaded with stuff you never knew was possible!
I really think its time to sell my books - they're over-flowing out of our bookshelves, stacking up on the floors and tables and in my bed. Maybe a book sale in my house? Kids could help run it. Price each book at $1 - $4... hmmm. Would people come?
Musings on motherhood, work and childcare
Just came back from seeing the big boss with the small boss. Every year, he makes a song and dance out of giving us our performance bonuses. I see him with my immediate boss and he shakes my hand, gives me the envelope, I open it, he asks if it is satisfactory, we chat for a while, then he shakes my hand again and I make my exit. Painless. The bonus is a nice touch and as I tell him, it will be squirreled away for the Japan trip.
This time though, he hands me another envelope. It is my contract for working half-time. Signed and approved by the head honchos.
I am glad that they have approved it for yet another year. Phew. Every year, I have to re-apply to keep working half-time. And every year, at this time, I hold my breath and see if it is approved.
Looking back, its been six years since I started working half-time. Ever since Caitlin was born. And in that time, I have also chalked up several months (easily more than a year's worth in total) of no-pay leave at various points when Owain and Trinity came along.
I realise how lucky I am that my bosses support this. Not many bosses will. Once upon a time though, it did seem as if they would not support this as well and we locked horns over a television interview I gave on the lack of support that mothers faced from employers, as well as a private email that went to then-DPM Lee. But we've since worked it out and things have been smooth ever since! :-)
Whenever I tell people I work part-time, they go: "Oh you're so lucky!"
But they don't realise that there is a price to pay. On the pro side, yes I get to spend time with the kids when they are growing, I get the time to do my own stuff eg the Grad Dip, BirthRight etc. Its also easier to nurse for a longer time than I otherwise would - less pumping in the office, which is a personal ugh for me!
On the con side, I do lose half my income. All my benefits are slashed by half. And at home, it does not mean that things are hunky-dory all the time - it can be equally, if not more, stressful to stay home and manage things on the homefront - homework, exams, sick kids, fighting kids, sulky kids, whiny kids etc.
I work 2.5 days a week. These are flexible as there are times when work calls and I work longer hours or different days. But, as I have been telling a good friend of mine, I have to keep shifting mindsets - mentally prepping myself for a work day the night or day before, recapping what needs to be done in the office, what projects are outstanding, meetings I have to attend etc. Even the kids have to keep up at remembering which days I work and which days I stay home! Sometimes it gets a bit schizo and I wish I could just fix it - either stay home or work full-time!
Recently on AP there is a lot of discussion/debate on childcare vs maid. I've been-there-done-that for both childcare, maid-care right down to my current arrangement.
Gillian went to childcare at 18months. And I remember she bawled the place down every morning for weeks. Yes, my heart broke, but I steeled myself to just leave her, believing that it was 'normal' for them to cry and consoling myself that since the CC was on the premises of the polytechnic, it would be no problem to drop by ever so often to see her. Of course, this never took off - work called and I could never walk the length of the campus just to pop in and see her. The one time I tried she howled as I left and I thought it might be just kinder to avoid the stimulus and anxiety for her by not coming at all.
At first, I liked the idea of childcare - the convenience, the idea that she was learning something 'useful' and 'productive'. It was also charming to see - all the cute little kids in a row, marching off to the toilets/bathroom to bathe, all of them sleeping on tiny mattresses for the afternoon nap etc.
But then little things niggled at me. It bothered me that the kids were put in front of a tv every day for the last 2 hours of the day. The fact that childcare is run by a regimented schedule was sold to me as a child "learning to be independent". But how does a child learn independence or exercises choice when he has to toe the line as to when to sleep, when to eat, when to learn, when to bathe etc?
Also, none of the teachers ever picked up on the fact that Gillian was inordinately clumsy. They also chalked the fact that she was moving around to chat rather than finishing her seat work as just "being a little busy-body!" The lack of form or structure in her drawings, even colouring did not ring alarm bells. Yet all these were very subtle signs of what we later discovered to be ADHD. The last straw for us came when she was bitten - twice - by a classmate. We realised that despite there being two teachers, it was still hard to manage a class of 18 kids and to give each individualised attention. And that's just what little children need - loving attention.
So when it came to Isaac, I said no childcare - he stays home. With a maid. At my mother's place. The catch was, my mother worked too, so did my dad and Isaac was left pretty much alone with the maid - Muri. I use the word maid here deliberately. I don't think she was cruel to him, but I guess she was just indifferent - he was just someone to feed, change, bathe etc. Not to engage with, read to, play with, talk to etc. Mel, Isaac's therapist, later told me that she thought he was "under-stimulated" which could have contributed to the set of autistic behaviors he displayed. Would more loving attention have made the difference? Had I someone like Lolita instead of Muri, to care for baby Isaac, would things have been different?
See how my parenting experiece is like? All trial and error! I can only hope my kids don't end up warped for life thanks to their bumbling mother!
When, after five long years, we decided to have another baby and Caitlin came along, I decided that I had to be there for them. I did not want to miss out on their early years, I no longer believed in childcare and I didn't think a maid alone would be able to handle things. Moreover by then, we had just diagnosed Gillian to be ADHD, dyslexic etc.
So that was the beginning of my journey to be a part-time employee. I believe children thrive on one-to-one care and attention and bonds need to be built between caregivers and their charges. While this person should best be mummy, I don't think the bond would be any less powerful or effective if it were someone else. If the mother was dysfunctional to begin with, showed indifference, was abusive or failed to interact responsively or positively with the child, perhaps that child would be better off under the care of someone else.
I do not agree with the government push to have more babies only to farm them out to infant care centres. How well can these centres respond to the needs of the baby who needs to feel secure, to form an attachment to one caregiver as opposed to a rotating roster of care-givers? Do we think these babies don't know any better? How we underestimate them then! Do we think that care is equivalent to a good speech/drama/maths/art programme? Why do we often equate good care with a good learning programme? IMO, they are two separate issues. Often, the best care is just simply to accompany the child on his journey and not foist things onto him that he may not be ready for or interested in!
When women nowadays say they don't want to be mothers because they feel they cannot deal with the commitment and responsibilities that mothering requires, I applaud them for their honesty! Yes, better not to have children if you feel unable to live up to the responsibility or if you feel that the opportunity cost of career and lifestyle is too high.
I think people have to understand that mothering is tiring and demanding. It does have responsibilities, commitments and the self will have to take a number and join the queue for attention because for a couple of years at least, baby does come first - 24/7/365! And if you can't deal with that, better not be a parent.
I may sound like I believe motherhood to equate with matyrhood. I don't. Mothers are not saints. I do have my share of resentful moments when I can't believe what I was thinking when I decided to have five children and all the baggage that that entails! Probably wasn't doing much thinking at that time - haha! And I do screw up - pretty often actually.
But I also believe that there is a time and place for everything. And for the baby's first year or years of life, they do have to come first. We owe them that much. There is plenty of time, in my opinion, left for uninterrupted sleep, facials, careers, friends, shopping, after-dinner drinks at the pubs, travels etc. As they grow older, we will gradually have more time for ourselves and our lives.
With five kids, I am slowly getting there. But meanwhile, I guess I'll just enjoy one more year of half-time work and more time with the kids! Next year, who knows?
Just came back from seeing the big boss with the small boss. Every year, he makes a song and dance out of giving us our performance bonuses. I see him with my immediate boss and he shakes my hand, gives me the envelope, I open it, he asks if it is satisfactory, we chat for a while, then he shakes my hand again and I make my exit. Painless. The bonus is a nice touch and as I tell him, it will be squirreled away for the Japan trip.
This time though, he hands me another envelope. It is my contract for working half-time. Signed and approved by the head honchos.
I am glad that they have approved it for yet another year. Phew. Every year, I have to re-apply to keep working half-time. And every year, at this time, I hold my breath and see if it is approved.
Looking back, its been six years since I started working half-time. Ever since Caitlin was born. And in that time, I have also chalked up several months (easily more than a year's worth in total) of no-pay leave at various points when Owain and Trinity came along.
I realise how lucky I am that my bosses support this. Not many bosses will. Once upon a time though, it did seem as if they would not support this as well and we locked horns over a television interview I gave on the lack of support that mothers faced from employers, as well as a private email that went to then-DPM Lee. But we've since worked it out and things have been smooth ever since! :-)
Whenever I tell people I work part-time, they go: "Oh you're so lucky!"
But they don't realise that there is a price to pay. On the pro side, yes I get to spend time with the kids when they are growing, I get the time to do my own stuff eg the Grad Dip, BirthRight etc. Its also easier to nurse for a longer time than I otherwise would - less pumping in the office, which is a personal ugh for me!
On the con side, I do lose half my income. All my benefits are slashed by half. And at home, it does not mean that things are hunky-dory all the time - it can be equally, if not more, stressful to stay home and manage things on the homefront - homework, exams, sick kids, fighting kids, sulky kids, whiny kids etc.
I work 2.5 days a week. These are flexible as there are times when work calls and I work longer hours or different days. But, as I have been telling a good friend of mine, I have to keep shifting mindsets - mentally prepping myself for a work day the night or day before, recapping what needs to be done in the office, what projects are outstanding, meetings I have to attend etc. Even the kids have to keep up at remembering which days I work and which days I stay home! Sometimes it gets a bit schizo and I wish I could just fix it - either stay home or work full-time!
Recently on AP there is a lot of discussion/debate on childcare vs maid. I've been-there-done-that for both childcare, maid-care right down to my current arrangement.
Gillian went to childcare at 18months. And I remember she bawled the place down every morning for weeks. Yes, my heart broke, but I steeled myself to just leave her, believing that it was 'normal' for them to cry and consoling myself that since the CC was on the premises of the polytechnic, it would be no problem to drop by ever so often to see her. Of course, this never took off - work called and I could never walk the length of the campus just to pop in and see her. The one time I tried she howled as I left and I thought it might be just kinder to avoid the stimulus and anxiety for her by not coming at all.
At first, I liked the idea of childcare - the convenience, the idea that she was learning something 'useful' and 'productive'. It was also charming to see - all the cute little kids in a row, marching off to the toilets/bathroom to bathe, all of them sleeping on tiny mattresses for the afternoon nap etc.
But then little things niggled at me. It bothered me that the kids were put in front of a tv every day for the last 2 hours of the day. The fact that childcare is run by a regimented schedule was sold to me as a child "learning to be independent". But how does a child learn independence or exercises choice when he has to toe the line as to when to sleep, when to eat, when to learn, when to bathe etc?
Also, none of the teachers ever picked up on the fact that Gillian was inordinately clumsy. They also chalked the fact that she was moving around to chat rather than finishing her seat work as just "being a little busy-body!" The lack of form or structure in her drawings, even colouring did not ring alarm bells. Yet all these were very subtle signs of what we later discovered to be ADHD. The last straw for us came when she was bitten - twice - by a classmate. We realised that despite there being two teachers, it was still hard to manage a class of 18 kids and to give each individualised attention. And that's just what little children need - loving attention.
So when it came to Isaac, I said no childcare - he stays home. With a maid. At my mother's place. The catch was, my mother worked too, so did my dad and Isaac was left pretty much alone with the maid - Muri. I use the word maid here deliberately. I don't think she was cruel to him, but I guess she was just indifferent - he was just someone to feed, change, bathe etc. Not to engage with, read to, play with, talk to etc. Mel, Isaac's therapist, later told me that she thought he was "under-stimulated" which could have contributed to the set of autistic behaviors he displayed. Would more loving attention have made the difference? Had I someone like Lolita instead of Muri, to care for baby Isaac, would things have been different?
See how my parenting experiece is like? All trial and error! I can only hope my kids don't end up warped for life thanks to their bumbling mother!
When, after five long years, we decided to have another baby and Caitlin came along, I decided that I had to be there for them. I did not want to miss out on their early years, I no longer believed in childcare and I didn't think a maid alone would be able to handle things. Moreover by then, we had just diagnosed Gillian to be ADHD, dyslexic etc.
So that was the beginning of my journey to be a part-time employee. I believe children thrive on one-to-one care and attention and bonds need to be built between caregivers and their charges. While this person should best be mummy, I don't think the bond would be any less powerful or effective if it were someone else. If the mother was dysfunctional to begin with, showed indifference, was abusive or failed to interact responsively or positively with the child, perhaps that child would be better off under the care of someone else.
I do not agree with the government push to have more babies only to farm them out to infant care centres. How well can these centres respond to the needs of the baby who needs to feel secure, to form an attachment to one caregiver as opposed to a rotating roster of care-givers? Do we think these babies don't know any better? How we underestimate them then! Do we think that care is equivalent to a good speech/drama/maths/art programme? Why do we often equate good care with a good learning programme? IMO, they are two separate issues. Often, the best care is just simply to accompany the child on his journey and not foist things onto him that he may not be ready for or interested in!
When women nowadays say they don't want to be mothers because they feel they cannot deal with the commitment and responsibilities that mothering requires, I applaud them for their honesty! Yes, better not to have children if you feel unable to live up to the responsibility or if you feel that the opportunity cost of career and lifestyle is too high.
I think people have to understand that mothering is tiring and demanding. It does have responsibilities, commitments and the self will have to take a number and join the queue for attention because for a couple of years at least, baby does come first - 24/7/365! And if you can't deal with that, better not be a parent.
I may sound like I believe motherhood to equate with matyrhood. I don't. Mothers are not saints. I do have my share of resentful moments when I can't believe what I was thinking when I decided to have five children and all the baggage that that entails! Probably wasn't doing much thinking at that time - haha! And I do screw up - pretty often actually.
But I also believe that there is a time and place for everything. And for the baby's first year or years of life, they do have to come first. We owe them that much. There is plenty of time, in my opinion, left for uninterrupted sleep, facials, careers, friends, shopping, after-dinner drinks at the pubs, travels etc. As they grow older, we will gradually have more time for ourselves and our lives.
With five kids, I am slowly getting there. But meanwhile, I guess I'll just enjoy one more year of half-time work and more time with the kids! Next year, who knows?
Monday, March 26, 2007
Class over and a quiet weekend
I finished the last session of the Gentle Birth course on Sat evening. I don't think I will have another series until next month although I will have private classes ad hoc in the interim. So I feel a lot lighter!
As I tell KH - each time I start a new series of classes, I feel very tense with great big knots in the stomach! I've been doing this so many times but each time I still fret that I won't remember my facts, can't engage the group well etc. Yet the minute I meet my group, all my anxiety just melts away. I love meeting these couples, finding out about their pregnancies, now and previous ones, I enjoy talking to them, sharing what I know about birth etc. And their responses and questions keep my enthusiasm and energy going. By the time I finish class for the day, I feel much lighter - quite on a high but yet drained - I know this sounds weird and contradictory but that's how I feel!
By the time I actually complete a series, at the end of the last class, the mood in the class is a bit nostalgic - nobody seems to want to leave! Everyone lingers, chats, exchanges phone numbers etc. There is always one last question to ask and to answer.
When everyone has gone off and I have packed up and am sitting in the car with KH, I tend to not want to talk - just absorbing everything - mentally tired, but feeling lighter, reflective, glad its over and yet regretful to part with a group. He knows and will just leave me alone until I've gathered my energies.
The kids are better, recovered from their flu. Trin recovered faster than I expected. She was over the sniffles and watery eyes by Friday. Owain wheezed less by Sat. Only Isaac is still wheezing considerably. But that didn't affect his energy levels! We went to the zoo yesterday evening and he was happy to be walking in the 'stream' and catching unsuspecting baby frogs!
It was one of those lovely golden evenings when the sky was at its bluest. Because we're Friends of the Zoo and entry is free, we like to just hop by for quick casual visits - so the zoo is never the big excursion it once was. We enjoy just walking under the big shady trees, visiting the animals, wading in the stream etc. Following that, it was our usual pig-out time at KFC. Somehow things always feel more finger-licking good when one has gone through the zoo circuit.
All in, a nice quiet weekend. Just the sort I like.
I finished the last session of the Gentle Birth course on Sat evening. I don't think I will have another series until next month although I will have private classes ad hoc in the interim. So I feel a lot lighter!
As I tell KH - each time I start a new series of classes, I feel very tense with great big knots in the stomach! I've been doing this so many times but each time I still fret that I won't remember my facts, can't engage the group well etc. Yet the minute I meet my group, all my anxiety just melts away. I love meeting these couples, finding out about their pregnancies, now and previous ones, I enjoy talking to them, sharing what I know about birth etc. And their responses and questions keep my enthusiasm and energy going. By the time I finish class for the day, I feel much lighter - quite on a high but yet drained - I know this sounds weird and contradictory but that's how I feel!
By the time I actually complete a series, at the end of the last class, the mood in the class is a bit nostalgic - nobody seems to want to leave! Everyone lingers, chats, exchanges phone numbers etc. There is always one last question to ask and to answer.
When everyone has gone off and I have packed up and am sitting in the car with KH, I tend to not want to talk - just absorbing everything - mentally tired, but feeling lighter, reflective, glad its over and yet regretful to part with a group. He knows and will just leave me alone until I've gathered my energies.
The kids are better, recovered from their flu. Trin recovered faster than I expected. She was over the sniffles and watery eyes by Friday. Owain wheezed less by Sat. Only Isaac is still wheezing considerably. But that didn't affect his energy levels! We went to the zoo yesterday evening and he was happy to be walking in the 'stream' and catching unsuspecting baby frogs!
It was one of those lovely golden evenings when the sky was at its bluest. Because we're Friends of the Zoo and entry is free, we like to just hop by for quick casual visits - so the zoo is never the big excursion it once was. We enjoy just walking under the big shady trees, visiting the animals, wading in the stream etc. Following that, it was our usual pig-out time at KFC. Somehow things always feel more finger-licking good when one has gone through the zoo circuit.
All in, a nice quiet weekend. Just the sort I like.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Of asthma and runny noses...
Owain is down with asthma - wheezing like an old pipe. And his nose is clogged.
Trinity eyes are red and watery - actually flowing with water! Her nose is also flowing like a river. Understandably, she is cranky.
Isaac is also wheezing - another asthma episode.
Between them all, I am puffing them with the inhaler and nursing non-stop. Even as I write now.
The joys of motherhood.
Owain is down with asthma - wheezing like an old pipe. And his nose is clogged.
Trinity eyes are red and watery - actually flowing with water! Her nose is also flowing like a river. Understandably, she is cranky.
Isaac is also wheezing - another asthma episode.
Between them all, I am puffing them with the inhaler and nursing non-stop. Even as I write now.
The joys of motherhood.
A 6th addition to the household?
My new neighbour has a lovely cat. Can't tell if its a guy or a girl. But it has a lush and striking dark brown, black and yellow coat and a formidable, baleful stare with piercing bright green eyes.
We first noticed it snoozing in the neighbour's front porch. It was a sign that the house we thought to be long-empty, was no longer vacant. The next time we saw it, it was scooting out from beneath our neighbour's car when KH started ours. It tried to jump over the drain and back through the wrought-iron fences of its house. But it was fat and I saw it hesitate quite a bit before making the leap. I could commiserate. I know what it's like to be so out of shape.
Nonetheless, I am so attracted to it and very very tempted to get a cat for a pet.
So far the only domesticated cats I know have been Gayle's 2 cats and Aunty Sue's big fat Moses. Moses is a real character. He's quite the scaredy-cat and hides in the closet when thunder booms or visitors come. According to Aunty Sue he used to be quite the sleek magnificent creature stalking the backlanes near their old place in Li Hwan. But now that they've moved, and are living in a 13th floor apartment, the guy can't get out. So he's sadly gone to seed, stuffing himself with no exercise. Last I saw him, he was the whoppingest-fattest cat I'd ever seen!
The idea of pets joining us is not a newly mooted one.
When Sui Noi, a journalist friend, left for her Taiwan posting, she asked if I could take Timmy, a lovely golden retriever. He needed the space that a landed home could provide. Retrievers are also known to be gentle with children. But the thought of the additional responsibility - bringing him for walks, visits to the vet etc, killed the idea. So Timmy went to another home. I hear he's happy there.
So apart from the many long-kang fish we have in the big water-lily pot, and the larger fish in the back garden pot, we've been pet-less.
The closest we came to one was the pigeon Isaac insisted we save. Appeared in our garden with a damaged wing. Had we left it alone, it would have faced certain death from the aggressive crows residing in the trees lining the road. So Isaac insisted we save it. Brought it to the vet, who could not understand why we wanted to nurse the pigeon back to health and sceptical that it would even survive. But survive it did. We changed the bedding every day, fed it water and grains of rice and generally left it alone. Isaac though, would peer into the big cardboard box it called home and stroke it everyday.
When it got better, it used to hop around the living room - and poo all over the place! Isaac was emotionally invested in the bird and when it took off one fine day as we knew it would, he was very sad. And after that, every single pigeon that flew into the garden, he would wonder if it was the pigeon he saved. He would weave stories about those visitors - wondering if it were a guy or girl pigeon, if they knew the one he saved, if perhaps it had told others about him, if they were sending him a message etc!
The kids, like most kids I guess, are reasonably excited over animals - they see a cat/dog and they coo over it, petting it (strays and pets alike) etc. Right now the closest they've got to a pet of their own is really an accumulation of all the dogs in the neighbourhood. They know all their names.
When the Lab five doors down comes by, they go out to greet it. When the Filipino maid some streets away comes along with her big golden retriever, she stops to let the kids play with it. Once in a while, they go three houses down to Mike's place to play with Shandy the beagle. And now that an Aussie guy has moved in across from us with his terrier and shih-tzu, they would stop at his gate to play with them too. And of course, they all love Aunty Vivian's Poppet - the luckiest pariah dog in Malaysia, so cossetted and loved by Aunty Vivian! My sister always says the dog ends up traumatised after our visits because the kids would be all over it, petting, stroking, rubbing it and occasionally pulling its tail!
Somehow though, their love does not extend to the neighbour just directly in front of our house - the guy has 8 or 9 dogs (although only 2 or 3 are seen at any one time in the front garden). It's probably illegal to have so many dogs and I know complaints have been levied anonymously (not me I swear!) which led to some of the dogs being hastily evacuated in the dark of night before the authorities come to inspect his place! Anyway, his dogs do not seem very friendly to children and the kids pick up on the vibes I guess. The dogs bark incessantly and love to pick fights with other neighbourhood dogs too.
So now, I am thinking of getting a cat. We'd have to neuter it of course, and let it roam free during the day. Cats strike me as being rather independent creatures which require little fuss. I don't think they'd stay home often and with our house doors and windows always flung wide open, they certainly would have carte blanche to come and go freely.
I don't believe in getting pets to 'teach' the children responsibility or to be 'companions' to them. Animals are not teaching tools. They require a certain level of responsibility and commitment. A cat, with a free spirit nature, sounds less emotionally needy than a dog and might suit us? Am I ready for this? With 5 kids and their attendant responsibilities already? Sounds mad right?
But right now, I don't know why, I am just drawn to the idea of a cat in the house. Hmm, more research needed before I make a decision. I don't think it would be an expensive pedigree but a street cat, maybe from the Cat Welfare Society or the SPCA, someone that needs a home?
My new neighbour has a lovely cat. Can't tell if its a guy or a girl. But it has a lush and striking dark brown, black and yellow coat and a formidable, baleful stare with piercing bright green eyes.
We first noticed it snoozing in the neighbour's front porch. It was a sign that the house we thought to be long-empty, was no longer vacant. The next time we saw it, it was scooting out from beneath our neighbour's car when KH started ours. It tried to jump over the drain and back through the wrought-iron fences of its house. But it was fat and I saw it hesitate quite a bit before making the leap. I could commiserate. I know what it's like to be so out of shape.
Nonetheless, I am so attracted to it and very very tempted to get a cat for a pet.
So far the only domesticated cats I know have been Gayle's 2 cats and Aunty Sue's big fat Moses. Moses is a real character. He's quite the scaredy-cat and hides in the closet when thunder booms or visitors come. According to Aunty Sue he used to be quite the sleek magnificent creature stalking the backlanes near their old place in Li Hwan. But now that they've moved, and are living in a 13th floor apartment, the guy can't get out. So he's sadly gone to seed, stuffing himself with no exercise. Last I saw him, he was the whoppingest-fattest cat I'd ever seen!
The idea of pets joining us is not a newly mooted one.
When Sui Noi, a journalist friend, left for her Taiwan posting, she asked if I could take Timmy, a lovely golden retriever. He needed the space that a landed home could provide. Retrievers are also known to be gentle with children. But the thought of the additional responsibility - bringing him for walks, visits to the vet etc, killed the idea. So Timmy went to another home. I hear he's happy there.
So apart from the many long-kang fish we have in the big water-lily pot, and the larger fish in the back garden pot, we've been pet-less.
The closest we came to one was the pigeon Isaac insisted we save. Appeared in our garden with a damaged wing. Had we left it alone, it would have faced certain death from the aggressive crows residing in the trees lining the road. So Isaac insisted we save it. Brought it to the vet, who could not understand why we wanted to nurse the pigeon back to health and sceptical that it would even survive. But survive it did. We changed the bedding every day, fed it water and grains of rice and generally left it alone. Isaac though, would peer into the big cardboard box it called home and stroke it everyday.
When it got better, it used to hop around the living room - and poo all over the place! Isaac was emotionally invested in the bird and when it took off one fine day as we knew it would, he was very sad. And after that, every single pigeon that flew into the garden, he would wonder if it was the pigeon he saved. He would weave stories about those visitors - wondering if it were a guy or girl pigeon, if they knew the one he saved, if perhaps it had told others about him, if they were sending him a message etc!
The kids, like most kids I guess, are reasonably excited over animals - they see a cat/dog and they coo over it, petting it (strays and pets alike) etc. Right now the closest they've got to a pet of their own is really an accumulation of all the dogs in the neighbourhood. They know all their names.
When the Lab five doors down comes by, they go out to greet it. When the Filipino maid some streets away comes along with her big golden retriever, she stops to let the kids play with it. Once in a while, they go three houses down to Mike's place to play with Shandy the beagle. And now that an Aussie guy has moved in across from us with his terrier and shih-tzu, they would stop at his gate to play with them too. And of course, they all love Aunty Vivian's Poppet - the luckiest pariah dog in Malaysia, so cossetted and loved by Aunty Vivian! My sister always says the dog ends up traumatised after our visits because the kids would be all over it, petting, stroking, rubbing it and occasionally pulling its tail!
Somehow though, their love does not extend to the neighbour just directly in front of our house - the guy has 8 or 9 dogs (although only 2 or 3 are seen at any one time in the front garden). It's probably illegal to have so many dogs and I know complaints have been levied anonymously (not me I swear!) which led to some of the dogs being hastily evacuated in the dark of night before the authorities come to inspect his place! Anyway, his dogs do not seem very friendly to children and the kids pick up on the vibes I guess. The dogs bark incessantly and love to pick fights with other neighbourhood dogs too.
So now, I am thinking of getting a cat. We'd have to neuter it of course, and let it roam free during the day. Cats strike me as being rather independent creatures which require little fuss. I don't think they'd stay home often and with our house doors and windows always flung wide open, they certainly would have carte blanche to come and go freely.
I don't believe in getting pets to 'teach' the children responsibility or to be 'companions' to them. Animals are not teaching tools. They require a certain level of responsibility and commitment. A cat, with a free spirit nature, sounds less emotionally needy than a dog and might suit us? Am I ready for this? With 5 kids and their attendant responsibilities already? Sounds mad right?
But right now, I don't know why, I am just drawn to the idea of a cat in the house. Hmm, more research needed before I make a decision. I don't think it would be an expensive pedigree but a street cat, maybe from the Cat Welfare Society or the SPCA, someone that needs a home?
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Separate holidays
For once in our lives, the Chongs will vacation separately this June hols.
The ILs have succeeded in tempting KH to vacation with them. They intend to go to Redang island on the East Coast of Malaysia, hiring a bus for the 10-hour journey by night.
The thought of spending 10 hours cooped up in a bus with my ILs sends chills down my spine. Plus, as I pointed out to KH, the boat ride to Redang will 'kill' me as I am very prone to motion sickness. I can't take more than a half-hour ride and then only on lake-calm waters too!
And so if I am not going, Trin definitely can't go, and Owain too. So looks like KH will take the three older kids with him.
If you ask me, I don't quite like the idea of vacationing separately. I also don't think going up by bus in the night on the east coast roads is safe - so many horror stories about drivers who fall asleep at the wheel or who speed recklessly on those long stretches.
But no point mooching about it. I have found a way to cheer myself up. I figured that I will just bring the two babies with me on vacation myself! Vegging out at a beach resort sounds nice. Maybe Phuket. Langkawi at the Tanjong Rhu resort? Or Bali? Or a weekend in Bangkok with Aunty Gayle sounds promising too! With my mother and sister along as partners in crime, it will be fun!
So that's in the planning... NATAS is on this weekend, so you'll find me there poking among the many exhibits and stands for brochures and travel ideas.
For once in our lives, the Chongs will vacation separately this June hols.
The ILs have succeeded in tempting KH to vacation with them. They intend to go to Redang island on the East Coast of Malaysia, hiring a bus for the 10-hour journey by night.
The thought of spending 10 hours cooped up in a bus with my ILs sends chills down my spine. Plus, as I pointed out to KH, the boat ride to Redang will 'kill' me as I am very prone to motion sickness. I can't take more than a half-hour ride and then only on lake-calm waters too!
And so if I am not going, Trin definitely can't go, and Owain too. So looks like KH will take the three older kids with him.
If you ask me, I don't quite like the idea of vacationing separately. I also don't think going up by bus in the night on the east coast roads is safe - so many horror stories about drivers who fall asleep at the wheel or who speed recklessly on those long stretches.
But no point mooching about it. I have found a way to cheer myself up. I figured that I will just bring the two babies with me on vacation myself! Vegging out at a beach resort sounds nice. Maybe Phuket. Langkawi at the Tanjong Rhu resort? Or Bali? Or a weekend in Bangkok with Aunty Gayle sounds promising too! With my mother and sister along as partners in crime, it will be fun!
So that's in the planning... NATAS is on this weekend, so you'll find me there poking among the many exhibits and stands for brochures and travel ideas.
TV's talking heads
Last night, I could not watch The Amazing Race in peace.
There I was, parked in front of the telly, watching a huge rat sniff out something buried in the ground (landmines??) in Mozambique, and wondering if the rat would do us all a favour and take a chomp out of Mirna, when my ears perked up.
An interesting conversation was going on, literally, behind my back. The MIL and KH were seated on the sofa behind me and the conversation went like this:
MIL: "Why don't you buy a tv and put it in the back room?" (The back room happens to be Lolita's room and the MIL shares it with her when she comes to stay. And for the record, the MIL comes to stay with us for one week out of a month. Sometimes she may not even come for several months - ah bliss!) She continues: "I never get to watch the shows I want. The children keep wanting to watch their cartoons - everyday from 4.30 to 6.30pm!"
I was indignant but I kept quiet. I knew that any outburst from me would swing KH over to the MIL - out of sheer clannishness. So I chomped at the bit and shut up, mentally telling KH to please please please don't say yes for goodness sake! He knows what our stand has always been on tv usage in the house, I just gotta trust him to come through and not cave in to the pressure.
Long silence. I could feel KH hemming and hawing. Then KH finally said: "The kids finish watching at 6pm. You could watch then..."
Hah! I was tempted to say that if anyone thinks they can pry Owain away from Yugioh at 6pm, they can think again unless they want a major tantrum on their hands! But I kept my mouth shut and my eyes conscientiously glued to the screen.
MIL protested: "But my shows are over by then! Why don't you just put another tv in the room so I can watch the shows I want."
KH tried: "But the room does not have a TV connection to the antenna." (I know he's dodging hard!)
MIL persisted: "You could get someone to come in and run the wire. It's not difficult!"
Long silence again.
MIL, sounding aggrieved: "I'll buy the television myself! You don't have to buy it."
KH waffled: "It's not that... er, it's just that... we don't want the kids to watch too much tv."
This key issue really is that we don't want a situation when a tv in every room means that every kid will just go into their room, slam the door and watch telly. God knows what they'd watch. And the worse thing is, we will not talk much as a family anymore. With one tv, KH and I have better control over how much tv time the kids have, what they watch etc. That's why we don't even have cable! And more often than not, the tv is off. I love it that my kids still ask me politely if they can watch tv. Its never taken for granted that they can. They know what we think about tv and they know they need to ask before they even switch it on.
This is the same reason why we only have ONE computer in the house and also why my kids look longingly at their cousins' expensive Playstations, X-boxes, Nintendo hand-helds etc. We don't believe that these items have any value for our children. They just promote self-absorption, addiction that results in hours goggling and toggling away at a screen instead of family interaction, conversation, books, creative play etc. That's why KH and I have made it a point never to buy these for them.
MIL crowed: "Your brother has FOUR televisions in the house! Every room has one!"
Now why is that something to be proud of? I so deeply badly wanted to jump up and retort here: "Well jolly good for them! That's why you're staying with THEM and NOT us!" But again, with superhuman will, I kept quiet and kept watching The Amazing Race, distractedly wondering who in their right mind would let a harpy like Mirna paint their nails??
KH said shortly: "That's them."
MIL, sounding miffed: "I don't see the problem in getting a tv for the room."
KH, getting up from the sofa and escaping upstairs: "Well here we have only one tv. And that will be in the living room. Anyone who wants to watch tv will just have to watch here!"
I cheered silently. Finally! Hooray!!
But that did not stop me from fuming. First: what gives with conducting a conversation about introducing a tv set into my house in front of me, but not including me, as if I was invisible! Hello, this does happen to be my house too! Second: the idea of these extended 'visits' was because she wanted to see/bond with the grandkids etc. But more often than not, she just parks herself in front of the tv and watches untils her eyes glaze over and she nods off. So much for bonding. And now she wants to have her own tv!!
It's like the movie Jaws you know. Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water.
When KH said he was asking the MIL to come over, I figured: OK, it's been many months. I felt generous for a change and actually for once, was not resentful about this. But she hasn't been one day in my house when this thing about the tv comes up. It just reinforces every single negative impression I have.
After that conversation, the Amazing Race ended and Uchenna and Joyce were not eliminated after all. I wanted to watch the News at 9.30. But then my dear husband hissed: hey, the show is over! Pass the remote to mum!
Lucky for him, I was feeling benevolent. I passed it over and the MIL said: Oh so you've finished watching your show already eh?
I smile sweetly and say yes.
This morning, as we talked about it, the man had the nerve to tell me that he would never think of asking me to give up watching something just so his mother could watch tv. Whereupon I reminded him of his lovely stage whisper to me the previous night to give up the remote! He denied it of course - I swear the man has convenient short-term memory loss.
At the end of our conversation, I said: Just please don't let me find your sisters on my doorstep one day with a tv for your mother okay?
Because I would not put it past the SILs, to go ahead, buy the tv for her and bring it over! Fait accompli.
But KH said loftily: Oh they wouldn't do that to me. They'd talk to me about it first I'm sure.
All I can say is, he'd better be right. Or the Salvation Army would be a getting a brand new tv set courtesy of my ILs, personally delivered by me.
Last night, I could not watch The Amazing Race in peace.
There I was, parked in front of the telly, watching a huge rat sniff out something buried in the ground (landmines??) in Mozambique, and wondering if the rat would do us all a favour and take a chomp out of Mirna, when my ears perked up.
An interesting conversation was going on, literally, behind my back. The MIL and KH were seated on the sofa behind me and the conversation went like this:
MIL: "Why don't you buy a tv and put it in the back room?" (The back room happens to be Lolita's room and the MIL shares it with her when she comes to stay. And for the record, the MIL comes to stay with us for one week out of a month. Sometimes she may not even come for several months - ah bliss!) She continues: "I never get to watch the shows I want. The children keep wanting to watch their cartoons - everyday from 4.30 to 6.30pm!"
I was indignant but I kept quiet. I knew that any outburst from me would swing KH over to the MIL - out of sheer clannishness. So I chomped at the bit and shut up, mentally telling KH to please please please don't say yes for goodness sake! He knows what our stand has always been on tv usage in the house, I just gotta trust him to come through and not cave in to the pressure.
Long silence. I could feel KH hemming and hawing. Then KH finally said: "The kids finish watching at 6pm. You could watch then..."
Hah! I was tempted to say that if anyone thinks they can pry Owain away from Yugioh at 6pm, they can think again unless they want a major tantrum on their hands! But I kept my mouth shut and my eyes conscientiously glued to the screen.
MIL protested: "But my shows are over by then! Why don't you just put another tv in the room so I can watch the shows I want."
KH tried: "But the room does not have a TV connection to the antenna." (I know he's dodging hard!)
MIL persisted: "You could get someone to come in and run the wire. It's not difficult!"
Long silence again.
MIL, sounding aggrieved: "I'll buy the television myself! You don't have to buy it."
KH waffled: "It's not that... er, it's just that... we don't want the kids to watch too much tv."
This key issue really is that we don't want a situation when a tv in every room means that every kid will just go into their room, slam the door and watch telly. God knows what they'd watch. And the worse thing is, we will not talk much as a family anymore. With one tv, KH and I have better control over how much tv time the kids have, what they watch etc. That's why we don't even have cable! And more often than not, the tv is off. I love it that my kids still ask me politely if they can watch tv. Its never taken for granted that they can. They know what we think about tv and they know they need to ask before they even switch it on.
This is the same reason why we only have ONE computer in the house and also why my kids look longingly at their cousins' expensive Playstations, X-boxes, Nintendo hand-helds etc. We don't believe that these items have any value for our children. They just promote self-absorption, addiction that results in hours goggling and toggling away at a screen instead of family interaction, conversation, books, creative play etc. That's why KH and I have made it a point never to buy these for them.
MIL crowed: "Your brother has FOUR televisions in the house! Every room has one!"
Now why is that something to be proud of? I so deeply badly wanted to jump up and retort here: "Well jolly good for them! That's why you're staying with THEM and NOT us!" But again, with superhuman will, I kept quiet and kept watching The Amazing Race, distractedly wondering who in their right mind would let a harpy like Mirna paint their nails??
KH said shortly: "That's them."
MIL, sounding miffed: "I don't see the problem in getting a tv for the room."
KH, getting up from the sofa and escaping upstairs: "Well here we have only one tv. And that will be in the living room. Anyone who wants to watch tv will just have to watch here!"
I cheered silently. Finally! Hooray!!
But that did not stop me from fuming. First: what gives with conducting a conversation about introducing a tv set into my house in front of me, but not including me, as if I was invisible! Hello, this does happen to be my house too! Second: the idea of these extended 'visits' was because she wanted to see/bond with the grandkids etc. But more often than not, she just parks herself in front of the tv and watches untils her eyes glaze over and she nods off. So much for bonding. And now she wants to have her own tv!!
It's like the movie Jaws you know. Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water.
When KH said he was asking the MIL to come over, I figured: OK, it's been many months. I felt generous for a change and actually for once, was not resentful about this. But she hasn't been one day in my house when this thing about the tv comes up. It just reinforces every single negative impression I have.
After that conversation, the Amazing Race ended and Uchenna and Joyce were not eliminated after all. I wanted to watch the News at 9.30. But then my dear husband hissed: hey, the show is over! Pass the remote to mum!
Lucky for him, I was feeling benevolent. I passed it over and the MIL said: Oh so you've finished watching your show already eh?
I smile sweetly and say yes.
This morning, as we talked about it, the man had the nerve to tell me that he would never think of asking me to give up watching something just so his mother could watch tv. Whereupon I reminded him of his lovely stage whisper to me the previous night to give up the remote! He denied it of course - I swear the man has convenient short-term memory loss.
At the end of our conversation, I said: Just please don't let me find your sisters on my doorstep one day with a tv for your mother okay?
Because I would not put it past the SILs, to go ahead, buy the tv for her and bring it over! Fait accompli.
But KH said loftily: Oh they wouldn't do that to me. They'd talk to me about it first I'm sure.
All I can say is, he'd better be right. Or the Salvation Army would be a getting a brand new tv set courtesy of my ILs, personally delivered by me.
Friday, March 16, 2007
In a real hurry
Trin looks like she is in a real hurry to grow up.
She dislikes playing with conventional toys, loves to fiddle with handphones, TV remote controls and the car steering wheel, enjoys trying to scoop food up and put in her mouth, loves dancing and has loads of fun sitting in front of the computer and trying to move the mouse.
Yesterday, I caught her trying to wear my high heels and totter about in them! I was surprised because I didn't think they would do this until they were about 3 years old? But anyway, there she went. She slowly made her way, carefully balancing in my heels, down to the gate and stood there. Somehow she just enjoys standing there, holding on to the latch and looking out. (KH says it looks like she's in prison!) Going to work yesterday in the car, it was a bit poignant to see just her little arm sticking out from the gate, waving up and down.
Despite her eagerness to do the things we do, speech is not on her priority list.
She can't say a single word yet - not mama, dadda or nen-nen - nothing at all! The only distinct word that I caught her saying (and I have this on video) is "Here..." as she passed a brick to her gor-gor Owain. Other than that, she is not saying a word - just lots of baby mumble.
I'm not pressing the panic button yet because she CAN communicate - she understands what we are saying and can comply when I ask her to pick up something and bring it somewhere. She lives in a noisy household full of speech - where everyone talks to her all the time, so there's no reason for her not to pick up on language. I guess she'll talk when she's good and ready. No point angsting about it or forcing her.
Trin looks like she is in a real hurry to grow up.
She dislikes playing with conventional toys, loves to fiddle with handphones, TV remote controls and the car steering wheel, enjoys trying to scoop food up and put in her mouth, loves dancing and has loads of fun sitting in front of the computer and trying to move the mouse.
Yesterday, I caught her trying to wear my high heels and totter about in them! I was surprised because I didn't think they would do this until they were about 3 years old? But anyway, there she went. She slowly made her way, carefully balancing in my heels, down to the gate and stood there. Somehow she just enjoys standing there, holding on to the latch and looking out. (KH says it looks like she's in prison!) Going to work yesterday in the car, it was a bit poignant to see just her little arm sticking out from the gate, waving up and down.
Despite her eagerness to do the things we do, speech is not on her priority list.
She can't say a single word yet - not mama, dadda or nen-nen - nothing at all! The only distinct word that I caught her saying (and I have this on video) is "Here..." as she passed a brick to her gor-gor Owain. Other than that, she is not saying a word - just lots of baby mumble.
I'm not pressing the panic button yet because she CAN communicate - she understands what we are saying and can comply when I ask her to pick up something and bring it somewhere. She lives in a noisy household full of speech - where everyone talks to her all the time, so there's no reason for her not to pick up on language. I guess she'll talk when she's good and ready. No point angsting about it or forcing her.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Kids' Day Out
I survived sentosa with the kids. When I first mentioned to KH that I was thinking of bringing all five kids by myself to sentosa, he looked at me sceptically and grinned. Sure or not? he asked. The man didn't think I can do it? Let me rise to the occasion!
Was I in my right mind? My mom clearly thought not. At least bring Lolita along to help, she suggested. But no, I insisted I was up for it. There's just something doggedly stubborn about me and this issue about bringing the helper along on outings. Everytime I see a couple with one kid, or two kids and they have a maid in tow, I sigh or I snigger. Usually the couple would end up walking ahead with the maid carrying the kid, feeding the kid etc. Or the couple would be happily walking with the kid and the maid a few paces behind carrying the baby bag, the shopping bags and whatever paraphernalia that came along. I dislike this. I can never understand or appreciate the reliance on a maid so much so that one cannot even go out without a maid tagging along - and these people have only one or two kids!
So I make it a point to NOT bring my helper out. I will take care of the kids and the helper gets a break at home. She prefers it too - peace and quiet. Yeah, she may take the opportunity to skive a bit - but that's ok. I think its only human. I would do that too if my boss took off for the day! Er, hope the boss is not reading this! OK, I have to be honest and qualify though - that the only time I will ask Lolita to come along is when we're having steamboat at Golden Mile! Let no child come between me and my steamboat!
So it is with this kind of twisted, perverse pride that I refuse to bring a helper along. I just believe that my kids are my responsibility and I am danged if I need help when I go out with my children for some mother-kid bonding!
But I digress.
So I decided to take the kids out for a day. Yes, without the helper.
We started out bright and early at 10am, took the NEL to Vivocity. Went up to the Sentosa Express, signed up for family membership - and that alone was a major production. Me filling out forms and giving the occasional hiss to the kids to behave, baby Trinity taking off her shoes, walking to the counter and demanding to press the touch screen failing which would set off wails like air-raid sirens, Gillian trying to head Trin off, Owain fighting with Isaac and running around the place, Caitlin trying to do her splits (yes in public!) with all her Barbie underwear showing! Cut to the nice counter lady trying to marshall my kids to take photographs for the membership cards. It was a bit of a madhouse.
Then while waiting for the cards, I (distracted by the fact that I needed the toilet badly) agreed to let the kids wade in the wading area. Big mistake. I came out from the loo to see Gillian and Trinity walking in the water - the water of course coming up to Trin's thigh and wetting everything in sight. I waved them to come back. By then Owain's shorts were dripping wet, Cait's skirt was wet and Trin's pink pants were soaked too. Damage control - hit the dryer in the loo.
After all that, we got our new cards, and went off to the sentosa express. I contemplated lying and asking my children to lie. Yes, the bad mummy in me had surfaced momentarily. The membership cards did not include Owain, who would have to pay for his ticket, but I didn't want to queue and KH's stinginess has obviously rubbed off on me after 16 years of marriage. So I toyed briefly with the idea of telling Owain that if the nice lady asked how old he was, he had to say TWO and not THREE. But that would have required some re-programming since the boy was quick on the draw these days and whenever asked his age, would whip out three fingers and announce: I'm STILL three! Also, any lying to be done meant that the other kids had to be roped in.
But luckily my conscience is made of sterner stuff - and the thought of the horrified and scandalised looks on my kids' faces if I ever asked them to lie - killed the idea.
Well, God didn't put us to the test after all! I tried to carry Owain but his pants were so wet and ickky I dropped him right at the turnstile. The nice lady didn't say a word and just let us pass. So I'm glad I never asked the kids to lie.
The kids were excited about the monorail. It was clean, smooth and a fast ride. We got to Palawan beach (the last station) in less than 5min. Whereupon we took the beach tram for one round, stopping at Koufu to have some lunch. Loved the kaya bun - soft and fluffy and warm. Let the kids hang around the water play area but with strict instructions NOT to get wet! Oh the temptation of it all! You could see them casting longing glances at the water, and asking me stuff like: can I please just walk on the rocks where its not so deep? Can we just do a leetle bit of splashing - I promise not to push anyone in... I felt bad - so near and yet so far eh? Bad mummy. So I guess I will bring the kids back - this time with a change of clothes and swimwear, so that they can muck about in the water and the sand.
After Sentosa, we took the monorail back to Vivo. No tickets for Happily Never After - which disappointed all of them except Gillian. But yes to tickets for Music and Lyrics - which Gillian had been bugging to watch. I'd seen the movie already and bought the soundtrack - which is now on repeat mode on the CD player at home thanks to Gillian. The movie was not half bad and who knew Hugh Grant could sing?? Its just the fluffy sort of romantic comedy which she's really in to right now. The younger kids enjoyed it too - since the songs are very poppish and Hi-5 in tone.
Had to bring Trin out half way through - she was happy to walk around the seats and stick her little hand through the gaps, giving the front occupants a shock. And when I stopped her, she started screaming. So I had to bring her out. She only stopped when I got her to the snack bar in front of the popcorn stand. I did toy with the idea of shutting her up with some popcorn. But the popcorn was heinously expensive and, not to mention, unhealthy to boot. So the bad mummy was sidelined in favour of the good mummy who tried distracting her - the lil devil who decided that rolling on the carpetted floor was a good idea. Failing which, climbing on and walking on the sofas to check out the handphones of strangers was a fun thing to do.
Yes, I was tired by the time the movie ended and the kids trailed out. We headed for the basement to try the Kuching Kolo mee - and yes, it was good. But at $5.90 a bowl, in a tiny serving, definitely not worth the money. Bad mummy made four kids share one bowl. Which of course was not enough for everyone, resulted in lots of longing glances and pleas for more. Which bad mummy of course ignored. Bad mummy thought it was a good exercise in WW2 awareness - you know, like those hunger/food deprivation exercises they do in primary school these days to give kids a taste of "what it was like" during the war etc...
Good mummy came to the rescue and bought them each a Beard Papa cream puff. And then we all piled into the NEL for the trip home. Man, it was a looonnng day. In the train, Trin refused to sit down, wanted to stand, walk around the poles, hang onto the straps etc. Being so tired, I did not find this cute. Gillian had to stand and watch her because Owain finally fell asleep on me.
Out of the train, Gillian carried Trin while I carried the sleeping Owain. We smelled ozone and true enough, the rain pelted down soon after we got out and we were stranded at the bus stop. Handphones were dead so we could not call for reinforcements (read: dad who lived nearby!). Finally flagged a cab down and, now of course I realise how reckless and dangerous it was, I ran with all five kids across one lane of traffic, with a bus bearing down on us, in the heavy rain and shoved them all into the cab before flinging myself in.
Yes, it was a long day. But I think the kids had fun. Thank God the school holidays only come four times a year. As for the mother-kid bonding sans helper mindset, well, I'm still glad I did it sans helper. But now I know how exhausted Superman must have felt after a day of saving the world.
I survived sentosa with the kids. When I first mentioned to KH that I was thinking of bringing all five kids by myself to sentosa, he looked at me sceptically and grinned. Sure or not? he asked. The man didn't think I can do it? Let me rise to the occasion!
Was I in my right mind? My mom clearly thought not. At least bring Lolita along to help, she suggested. But no, I insisted I was up for it. There's just something doggedly stubborn about me and this issue about bringing the helper along on outings. Everytime I see a couple with one kid, or two kids and they have a maid in tow, I sigh or I snigger. Usually the couple would end up walking ahead with the maid carrying the kid, feeding the kid etc. Or the couple would be happily walking with the kid and the maid a few paces behind carrying the baby bag, the shopping bags and whatever paraphernalia that came along. I dislike this. I can never understand or appreciate the reliance on a maid so much so that one cannot even go out without a maid tagging along - and these people have only one or two kids!
So I make it a point to NOT bring my helper out. I will take care of the kids and the helper gets a break at home. She prefers it too - peace and quiet. Yeah, she may take the opportunity to skive a bit - but that's ok. I think its only human. I would do that too if my boss took off for the day! Er, hope the boss is not reading this! OK, I have to be honest and qualify though - that the only time I will ask Lolita to come along is when we're having steamboat at Golden Mile! Let no child come between me and my steamboat!
So it is with this kind of twisted, perverse pride that I refuse to bring a helper along. I just believe that my kids are my responsibility and I am danged if I need help when I go out with my children for some mother-kid bonding!
But I digress.
So I decided to take the kids out for a day. Yes, without the helper.
We started out bright and early at 10am, took the NEL to Vivocity. Went up to the Sentosa Express, signed up for family membership - and that alone was a major production. Me filling out forms and giving the occasional hiss to the kids to behave, baby Trinity taking off her shoes, walking to the counter and demanding to press the touch screen failing which would set off wails like air-raid sirens, Gillian trying to head Trin off, Owain fighting with Isaac and running around the place, Caitlin trying to do her splits (yes in public!) with all her Barbie underwear showing! Cut to the nice counter lady trying to marshall my kids to take photographs for the membership cards. It was a bit of a madhouse.
Then while waiting for the cards, I (distracted by the fact that I needed the toilet badly) agreed to let the kids wade in the wading area. Big mistake. I came out from the loo to see Gillian and Trinity walking in the water - the water of course coming up to Trin's thigh and wetting everything in sight. I waved them to come back. By then Owain's shorts were dripping wet, Cait's skirt was wet and Trin's pink pants were soaked too. Damage control - hit the dryer in the loo.
After all that, we got our new cards, and went off to the sentosa express. I contemplated lying and asking my children to lie. Yes, the bad mummy in me had surfaced momentarily. The membership cards did not include Owain, who would have to pay for his ticket, but I didn't want to queue and KH's stinginess has obviously rubbed off on me after 16 years of marriage. So I toyed briefly with the idea of telling Owain that if the nice lady asked how old he was, he had to say TWO and not THREE. But that would have required some re-programming since the boy was quick on the draw these days and whenever asked his age, would whip out three fingers and announce: I'm STILL three! Also, any lying to be done meant that the other kids had to be roped in.
But luckily my conscience is made of sterner stuff - and the thought of the horrified and scandalised looks on my kids' faces if I ever asked them to lie - killed the idea.
Well, God didn't put us to the test after all! I tried to carry Owain but his pants were so wet and ickky I dropped him right at the turnstile. The nice lady didn't say a word and just let us pass. So I'm glad I never asked the kids to lie.
The kids were excited about the monorail. It was clean, smooth and a fast ride. We got to Palawan beach (the last station) in less than 5min. Whereupon we took the beach tram for one round, stopping at Koufu to have some lunch. Loved the kaya bun - soft and fluffy and warm. Let the kids hang around the water play area but with strict instructions NOT to get wet! Oh the temptation of it all! You could see them casting longing glances at the water, and asking me stuff like: can I please just walk on the rocks where its not so deep? Can we just do a leetle bit of splashing - I promise not to push anyone in... I felt bad - so near and yet so far eh? Bad mummy. So I guess I will bring the kids back - this time with a change of clothes and swimwear, so that they can muck about in the water and the sand.
After Sentosa, we took the monorail back to Vivo. No tickets for Happily Never After - which disappointed all of them except Gillian. But yes to tickets for Music and Lyrics - which Gillian had been bugging to watch. I'd seen the movie already and bought the soundtrack - which is now on repeat mode on the CD player at home thanks to Gillian. The movie was not half bad and who knew Hugh Grant could sing?? Its just the fluffy sort of romantic comedy which she's really in to right now. The younger kids enjoyed it too - since the songs are very poppish and Hi-5 in tone.
Had to bring Trin out half way through - she was happy to walk around the seats and stick her little hand through the gaps, giving the front occupants a shock. And when I stopped her, she started screaming. So I had to bring her out. She only stopped when I got her to the snack bar in front of the popcorn stand. I did toy with the idea of shutting her up with some popcorn. But the popcorn was heinously expensive and, not to mention, unhealthy to boot. So the bad mummy was sidelined in favour of the good mummy who tried distracting her - the lil devil who decided that rolling on the carpetted floor was a good idea. Failing which, climbing on and walking on the sofas to check out the handphones of strangers was a fun thing to do.
Yes, I was tired by the time the movie ended and the kids trailed out. We headed for the basement to try the Kuching Kolo mee - and yes, it was good. But at $5.90 a bowl, in a tiny serving, definitely not worth the money. Bad mummy made four kids share one bowl. Which of course was not enough for everyone, resulted in lots of longing glances and pleas for more. Which bad mummy of course ignored. Bad mummy thought it was a good exercise in WW2 awareness - you know, like those hunger/food deprivation exercises they do in primary school these days to give kids a taste of "what it was like" during the war etc...
Good mummy came to the rescue and bought them each a Beard Papa cream puff. And then we all piled into the NEL for the trip home. Man, it was a looonnng day. In the train, Trin refused to sit down, wanted to stand, walk around the poles, hang onto the straps etc. Being so tired, I did not find this cute. Gillian had to stand and watch her because Owain finally fell asleep on me.
Out of the train, Gillian carried Trin while I carried the sleeping Owain. We smelled ozone and true enough, the rain pelted down soon after we got out and we were stranded at the bus stop. Handphones were dead so we could not call for reinforcements (read: dad who lived nearby!). Finally flagged a cab down and, now of course I realise how reckless and dangerous it was, I ran with all five kids across one lane of traffic, with a bus bearing down on us, in the heavy rain and shoved them all into the cab before flinging myself in.
Yes, it was a long day. But I think the kids had fun. Thank God the school holidays only come four times a year. As for the mother-kid bonding sans helper mindset, well, I'm still glad I did it sans helper. But now I know how exhausted Superman must have felt after a day of saving the world.
Friday, March 09, 2007
Mindful at birth
This keeps happening to me but I don't mind.
I prepare to teach a private class, call the client up early in the morning to confirm our meeting and the address only to find out: guess what? they had given birth in the night!
I am stunned but so happy for them. Birth had been speedy, smooth and drug-free. Above all, birth had been a happy and satisfying event that validated their needs and their visions. One had been a hospital birth and the other, a home birth. With both these women, there had been long correspondences before we decided to arrange for a class. There were some issues that were residual which I thought best to be resolved before labour. I'm glad to see it worked out well for them.
Time and again though, in all the births I have seen, the women I have worked with, I've learnt one thing: the power of the mind/emotions that are linked to progress in labour. You'll never find this in a medical textbook though and there are probably many doctors out there who will pooh-pooh the very idea. But midwives who have worked with many women over the years have observed this. Ina May Gaskin writes about this several times in her books - that labour can be slowed down or even arrested and will not progress unless mental and emotional roadblocks are cleared. From what I've seen, I tend to agree.
This brings what I know about the need for safety in birth to a different level. We're told that we need to find a safe place to birth, that we need to create a nest where we feel safe, comfortable. In all likelihood, that place is our home and if we are in hospital, then we would need to re-create that space in the delivery room. So we do the works - we write the birth plan to set the parameters down. We dim the lights, turn up the aircon temps, play music, dab essential oils etc. We are told of the need to let the primitive mammalian brain take over in labour, not stimulate the neo-cortex.
But that's just the physical space. What about the mental space? The emotional closet we carry around with us? That space is harder to define and for some, harder to create.
In my classes, I emphasise the need to de-clutter mentally. Yes, we need to think about birth, what we want, what we had and how we get there. But we also need to think about our relationships - with our partners, our parents, our children, our friends etc - and if there are issues and hiccups somewhere, either do something tangible to resolve it (some women feel better confronting the issue and grappling with it) or 'let it go' (some women may write, draw, paint, break, think, talk it over and let it go). Whatever and however they choose to do it.
I think it's important to prepare for birth in that way. But too few women do. Many women work and lead very busy stressful careers and they hardly have time to be introspective or reflective. Which is a pity. While it is good to do yoga or pre-natal pilates etc or some form of physical exercise, its also just as important to prepare mentally but no one ever sees the importance of that!
I hope more women come for prenatal class early on - say around the 24th week - learn about their bodies, about their options, write a birth plan, find (or change!) a good doctor etc and generally get the groundwork done.
By the time they hit the 32nd week, I hope they slow down, do some navel-gazing, deep breathing, some hoping and dreaming and visualising. I hope they feel inspired, sensual and grounded, understanding that they are connected to a whole line of mothers who have birthed before them, even as they feel their babies slide and bump in the swollen hardness of their bellies. And this kind of knowledge, the sureness they have of their bodies, the intimate connection between their babies and them, will help them birth well.
This keeps happening to me but I don't mind.
I prepare to teach a private class, call the client up early in the morning to confirm our meeting and the address only to find out: guess what? they had given birth in the night!
I am stunned but so happy for them. Birth had been speedy, smooth and drug-free. Above all, birth had been a happy and satisfying event that validated their needs and their visions. One had been a hospital birth and the other, a home birth. With both these women, there had been long correspondences before we decided to arrange for a class. There were some issues that were residual which I thought best to be resolved before labour. I'm glad to see it worked out well for them.
Time and again though, in all the births I have seen, the women I have worked with, I've learnt one thing: the power of the mind/emotions that are linked to progress in labour. You'll never find this in a medical textbook though and there are probably many doctors out there who will pooh-pooh the very idea. But midwives who have worked with many women over the years have observed this. Ina May Gaskin writes about this several times in her books - that labour can be slowed down or even arrested and will not progress unless mental and emotional roadblocks are cleared. From what I've seen, I tend to agree.
This brings what I know about the need for safety in birth to a different level. We're told that we need to find a safe place to birth, that we need to create a nest where we feel safe, comfortable. In all likelihood, that place is our home and if we are in hospital, then we would need to re-create that space in the delivery room. So we do the works - we write the birth plan to set the parameters down. We dim the lights, turn up the aircon temps, play music, dab essential oils etc. We are told of the need to let the primitive mammalian brain take over in labour, not stimulate the neo-cortex.
But that's just the physical space. What about the mental space? The emotional closet we carry around with us? That space is harder to define and for some, harder to create.
In my classes, I emphasise the need to de-clutter mentally. Yes, we need to think about birth, what we want, what we had and how we get there. But we also need to think about our relationships - with our partners, our parents, our children, our friends etc - and if there are issues and hiccups somewhere, either do something tangible to resolve it (some women feel better confronting the issue and grappling with it) or 'let it go' (some women may write, draw, paint, break, think, talk it over and let it go). Whatever and however they choose to do it.
I think it's important to prepare for birth in that way. But too few women do. Many women work and lead very busy stressful careers and they hardly have time to be introspective or reflective. Which is a pity. While it is good to do yoga or pre-natal pilates etc or some form of physical exercise, its also just as important to prepare mentally but no one ever sees the importance of that!
I hope more women come for prenatal class early on - say around the 24th week - learn about their bodies, about their options, write a birth plan, find (or change!) a good doctor etc and generally get the groundwork done.
By the time they hit the 32nd week, I hope they slow down, do some navel-gazing, deep breathing, some hoping and dreaming and visualising. I hope they feel inspired, sensual and grounded, understanding that they are connected to a whole line of mothers who have birthed before them, even as they feel their babies slide and bump in the swollen hardness of their bellies. And this kind of knowledge, the sureness they have of their bodies, the intimate connection between their babies and them, will help them birth well.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Snapshots
I am listening to Khani Cole on The Very Best of Jazz FM. Lovely velvety smooth sounds. I am sooo tempted to go for at least one performance during Mosaic. But going alone sucks. Also I am in a very stingy mood these days and inclined to count the pennies. So we'll see.
Owain is asleep in my arms. But in a few minutes, I shall put him down on the sofa, change clothes and hit the mrt for vivo. I intend to catch a movie there - maybe volver? or paris je'taime? letters from iwo jima? something I cannot watch with KH or with the kids. Maybe treat myself to a nice seat in gold class?? Hmm, then again, maybe not...
I know that one hour into my personal time, I will feel guilty about leaving the kids and then rush home. Always happens to me.
Meanwhile, I have reports and observations on lactation services to complete, a class to plan for on but I am feeling very lazy and in the mood for some serious hooky. I promise, promise, promise to finish at least one paper this week! Somebody please kick me if I don't.
I am listening to Khani Cole on The Very Best of Jazz FM. Lovely velvety smooth sounds. I am sooo tempted to go for at least one performance during Mosaic. But going alone sucks. Also I am in a very stingy mood these days and inclined to count the pennies. So we'll see.
Owain is asleep in my arms. But in a few minutes, I shall put him down on the sofa, change clothes and hit the mrt for vivo. I intend to catch a movie there - maybe volver? or paris je'taime? letters from iwo jima? something I cannot watch with KH or with the kids. Maybe treat myself to a nice seat in gold class?? Hmm, then again, maybe not...
I know that one hour into my personal time, I will feel guilty about leaving the kids and then rush home. Always happens to me.
Meanwhile, I have reports and observations on lactation services to complete, a class to plan for on but I am feeling very lazy and in the mood for some serious hooky. I promise, promise, promise to finish at least one paper this week! Somebody please kick me if I don't.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Recovery
It was a nice evening that just passed wasn't it? The air was fresh after the afternoon rain, and a cool breeze was present. I saw that my plumeira was blooming again, perhaps sensing the drier weather to come, my white bougainvillea which has not bloomed for yonks suddenly seeemed to have a growth spurt and spouted two arms of white flowers! Carrying Trin and standing out in wet grass, listening to soft strains of the piano in the neighbourhood felt very very good indeed.
All the more as it marked my first extended foray out of my house since Wed night. I had worked late on Wed because of the Diploma Show. By the time I got home, ate, showered etc, it was 9.30pm and I was tired so the babies and I had an early night. But by 11.30pm, I woke up. The last time I woke up due to pain was when I was in labour.
I could feel air moving at a clip inside. So much turbulence. I got up, went to the loo and promptly passed nothing but water. Like a tap. It marked the first of more than 10 forays to the loo over a 12-hour period, alternately with vomitting. On top of that, the stupid aircon in the room started to drip which meant I had to leap out of bed again to find suitable containers!
By Thursday, I was dreading the visits to the loo, stopped vomitting, started empty retching, my temperature soared and dipped but never went below 37.8. My hips felt like holes were drilled in them - the doctor had no answer why. I stopped eating, worried that I would only puke or pass the food out in liquid form. And what those frequent bursts of air and faeces did to my rectal control you can't imagine (is this too much information??) suffice to say I ended up doing lots of unwanted laundry in the dead of night.
I moved between the sofa, bed and toilet. The children came to me to be nursed. Dad had to come bring me to the doctor - no way I could get out of the house, walk all the way out and back, and slso very kindly helped bring Cait home from school.
On Sat, just sitting at the computer for 15min to answer a client's email left me in cold sweat. So, task quickly abandoned. Thankfully, mom and dad took all the kids off my hands over to their house for the night. They were pleased to go - mom's house had cable tv!! Even Owain! I was surprised, full of misgivings, partly happy (yay - I get some rest without nen-nen demands!) and partly sad (he said he wanted to go - seemed happy too - so is this the beginning of the end?) . Watershed event.
The house was peaceful without 'thim divils'. But by 5.30am, I'd got a call from mom. They were waiting outside my gate! Owain wanted - yep - nen-nen!! Luckily mom and dad live near me!
So by the fact that I am blogging this today means I am better, but still weak. I still make forays to the loo often, I still retch, food tastes like s*&t to me for now. On top of that, its sent my cycles haywire and my menses is back within 14 days - boo!! But I think I've lost weight! So I'll look on the bright side.
It was a nice evening that just passed wasn't it? The air was fresh after the afternoon rain, and a cool breeze was present. I saw that my plumeira was blooming again, perhaps sensing the drier weather to come, my white bougainvillea which has not bloomed for yonks suddenly seeemed to have a growth spurt and spouted two arms of white flowers! Carrying Trin and standing out in wet grass, listening to soft strains of the piano in the neighbourhood felt very very good indeed.
All the more as it marked my first extended foray out of my house since Wed night. I had worked late on Wed because of the Diploma Show. By the time I got home, ate, showered etc, it was 9.30pm and I was tired so the babies and I had an early night. But by 11.30pm, I woke up. The last time I woke up due to pain was when I was in labour.
I could feel air moving at a clip inside. So much turbulence. I got up, went to the loo and promptly passed nothing but water. Like a tap. It marked the first of more than 10 forays to the loo over a 12-hour period, alternately with vomitting. On top of that, the stupid aircon in the room started to drip which meant I had to leap out of bed again to find suitable containers!
By Thursday, I was dreading the visits to the loo, stopped vomitting, started empty retching, my temperature soared and dipped but never went below 37.8. My hips felt like holes were drilled in them - the doctor had no answer why. I stopped eating, worried that I would only puke or pass the food out in liquid form. And what those frequent bursts of air and faeces did to my rectal control you can't imagine (is this too much information??) suffice to say I ended up doing lots of unwanted laundry in the dead of night.
I moved between the sofa, bed and toilet. The children came to me to be nursed. Dad had to come bring me to the doctor - no way I could get out of the house, walk all the way out and back, and slso very kindly helped bring Cait home from school.
On Sat, just sitting at the computer for 15min to answer a client's email left me in cold sweat. So, task quickly abandoned. Thankfully, mom and dad took all the kids off my hands over to their house for the night. They were pleased to go - mom's house had cable tv!! Even Owain! I was surprised, full of misgivings, partly happy (yay - I get some rest without nen-nen demands!) and partly sad (he said he wanted to go - seemed happy too - so is this the beginning of the end?) . Watershed event.
The house was peaceful without 'thim divils'. But by 5.30am, I'd got a call from mom. They were waiting outside my gate! Owain wanted - yep - nen-nen!! Luckily mom and dad live near me!
So by the fact that I am blogging this today means I am better, but still weak. I still make forays to the loo often, I still retch, food tastes like s*&t to me for now. On top of that, its sent my cycles haywire and my menses is back within 14 days - boo!! But I think I've lost weight! So I'll look on the bright side.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)