At last! Finished the Japan blog!
All done. Plus some last thoughts on Japan. This is it - my complete blog entries on travelling in Japan.
http://bigontrips.blogspot.com/
More to come. Will try to add in our travels elsewhere too.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Friday, January 25, 2008
Mummy the slavedriver!
Got a call from Caitlin's school again - this time it was Caitlin's Art teacher. Here's how it went:
Mrs Chong, I am Caitlin's Art Teacher. Caitlin is crying now and says she has a tummyache. Would you like to come and pick her up from school?
Ms Wong right? Ms Wong, no I would not want to come and pick her up. This just happened on Tuesday. Is there anything that she seems worried or upset about?
Well, she didn't bring her art work from last week and when I asked her about it, she said she was very busy at home, that you asked her to do a lot of work to do at home and so she forgot. Then she started crying and I called you.
Huh? Me?? Ask her to do a lot of work at home? Like what?
She says she has to mop the floor everyday, sweep the kitchen all the time... (at this point I let loose one hyena yell of laughter - sorry couldn't help it. Oh Cinderalla, you've been a bad bad bad influence on my daughter!)
Ms Wong, there is nothing wrong with Caitlin. I think she's just very anxious about some things like when she does not bring things, or when there is Spelling etc. She'll be alright after a while if you talk to her. On my part, I will speak to her when she comes home but I don't think there is a need to bring her home now.
True enough. When Cait came home and I asked how was school, she went breezily: Fine! School was fun!
In case you think she is schizo, she really isn't. She's just a very antsy, high-strung 6-year-old who stresses out at the thought of being on any Figure of Authority's bad books. She really stresses out and freaks out over these issues. Had to really talk to her last night about why she should not do that. Apart from getting an ulcer by the time she's 8, its no joy for me to keep getting phone calls from the school to come pick her up.
Maybe I need to teach her some deep breathing/conscious breathing skills that I teach my birth classes! I've already taught Owain this and it's paying off! Everytime he screams and howls, I remind him to take deep breaths. And it works! He usually calms down enough to talk intelligibly.
Finally, we came to an agreement that I should not send her to school for ballet - it makes her too sad to say goodbye and to leave me and she would brood about it and feel lousy after that. Okay. So I got to speak to Mama and Granddad about being her new transport service. We also agreed that she would come to me if she ever felt scared about anything in school and not stress out about in school. We agreed that Ms Ang and her teachers were really truly not child-eating ogres in disguise and they were genuinely very nice and caring people who would not eat her up if she forgot to bring a book. She agreed that she would now save her stomach aches for home instead of school.
And she agreed that she would not tell anyone anymore how I slave-drive her at home with a whip to clean the kitchen sink with a toothbrush every morning at 4am.
Got a call from Caitlin's school again - this time it was Caitlin's Art teacher. Here's how it went:
Mrs Chong, I am Caitlin's Art Teacher. Caitlin is crying now and says she has a tummyache. Would you like to come and pick her up from school?
Ms Wong right? Ms Wong, no I would not want to come and pick her up. This just happened on Tuesday. Is there anything that she seems worried or upset about?
Well, she didn't bring her art work from last week and when I asked her about it, she said she was very busy at home, that you asked her to do a lot of work to do at home and so she forgot. Then she started crying and I called you.
Huh? Me?? Ask her to do a lot of work at home? Like what?
She says she has to mop the floor everyday, sweep the kitchen all the time... (at this point I let loose one hyena yell of laughter - sorry couldn't help it. Oh Cinderalla, you've been a bad bad bad influence on my daughter!)
Ms Wong, there is nothing wrong with Caitlin. I think she's just very anxious about some things like when she does not bring things, or when there is Spelling etc. She'll be alright after a while if you talk to her. On my part, I will speak to her when she comes home but I don't think there is a need to bring her home now.
True enough. When Cait came home and I asked how was school, she went breezily: Fine! School was fun!
In case you think she is schizo, she really isn't. She's just a very antsy, high-strung 6-year-old who stresses out at the thought of being on any Figure of Authority's bad books. She really stresses out and freaks out over these issues. Had to really talk to her last night about why she should not do that. Apart from getting an ulcer by the time she's 8, its no joy for me to keep getting phone calls from the school to come pick her up.
Maybe I need to teach her some deep breathing/conscious breathing skills that I teach my birth classes! I've already taught Owain this and it's paying off! Everytime he screams and howls, I remind him to take deep breaths. And it works! He usually calms down enough to talk intelligibly.
Finally, we came to an agreement that I should not send her to school for ballet - it makes her too sad to say goodbye and to leave me and she would brood about it and feel lousy after that. Okay. So I got to speak to Mama and Granddad about being her new transport service. We also agreed that she would come to me if she ever felt scared about anything in school and not stress out about in school. We agreed that Ms Ang and her teachers were really truly not child-eating ogres in disguise and they were genuinely very nice and caring people who would not eat her up if she forgot to bring a book. She agreed that she would now save her stomach aches for home instead of school.
And she agreed that she would not tell anyone anymore how I slave-drive her at home with a whip to clean the kitchen sink with a toothbrush every morning at 4am.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Inspired!
I have to confess to feeling a wee bit burnt out, lazy and uninspired these couple of months re birth issues.
Meeting a very nice obs the other day and realising just how uphill it would be to change the birth culture here in Singapore also did not help boost my morale. The doctor was nice but very realistic and we both agreed it was uphill work.
But reading Andrea Robertson's diary has energised me again. Here is a very interesting account of the birth culture in Iran and how she is working with Iranian midwives and obstetricians to change the scene. The pictures of the labour ward there would send chills down your spine! If we say that birth here is so medicated and managed, gosh, look at the environment there and be thankful for what we have at least - private delivery suites.
A really marvellous, eye-opening and fun read - especially the Maryam's birth story written by Dr Kirsten Small - which is an account of the first official water birth in Iran!
http://www.birthinternational.com/diary/archives/2007_11.html
Now I feel more inspired to continue working towards working with and empowering midwives to support physiological birth - even though the task seems very huge and very daunting and rejection is more often a reality than a possibility!
I have to confess to feeling a wee bit burnt out, lazy and uninspired these couple of months re birth issues.
Meeting a very nice obs the other day and realising just how uphill it would be to change the birth culture here in Singapore also did not help boost my morale. The doctor was nice but very realistic and we both agreed it was uphill work.
But reading Andrea Robertson's diary has energised me again. Here is a very interesting account of the birth culture in Iran and how she is working with Iranian midwives and obstetricians to change the scene. The pictures of the labour ward there would send chills down your spine! If we say that birth here is so medicated and managed, gosh, look at the environment there and be thankful for what we have at least - private delivery suites.
A really marvellous, eye-opening and fun read - especially the Maryam's birth story written by Dr Kirsten Small - which is an account of the first official water birth in Iran!
http://www.birthinternational.com/diary/archives/2007_11.html
Now I feel more inspired to continue working towards working with and empowering midwives to support physiological birth - even though the task seems very huge and very daunting and rejection is more often a reality than a possibility!
The honeymoon is over!
Indeed it is.
There I was. Happily ensconced in my seat in a near empty Lido cinema watching the very funny Steve Carell in Dan In Real Life yesterday when the phone rang. I'd debated about whether or not to switch the phone off but because the cinema was empty and I could feel the vibration of the phone easily enough, I decided not to switch it off. And good thing I didn't.
Right at the funny bit with Steve Carell and Juliette Binoche in the bathroom/tub, the phone rang.
Caitlin's teacher Ms Ang was on the line. Caitlin was crying and said she had a tummy ache and wanted to go home so could I come by and pick her up?
Deja vu all over again!
I knew what was the problem and it wasn't her tummy. It was a combination of factors. First, this brings me back to Cait's first days in Kindergarten. Same thing happened. When she first started, everything was hunky-dory. Then after the 2nd or 3rd week, she started this: crying, tummy aches, crying the night before, crying on Sunday nights, asking if she had to go to school everyday etc. We finally figured out what was the prob - Chinese lessons (she was clueless about Chinese back then!) and an overly long bus ride everyday. We solved this by getting her a lift from Big Bernice, her very matured-minded senior in K2 whose mum picked her everyday and who, thankfully lived nearby. So problem solved and she went on to have many happy months in K1 and K2.
So now this. I'd seen it before. This time, I think I knew the problem. And I was part of it. First, English spelling and Chinese spelling all on one day. And then there's me the pushy insensitive mummy.
Yes, I screwed up.
I had told myself to go slow with her re spelling, school, adjusting etc. So we've been going through her spelling with one word a day until Tuesday. This has worked well for the past few weeks.
But yesterday, Tuesday morning and Spelling Day, I was at the PC trying to get that blasted internet home connection back on and I wasn't really thinking when she talked about the plant she wanted. I had promised to get her a plant if she got all her Spelling words right. Last week she had everything right except for 'sharpener'. So yesterday morning, I unthinkingly said: no, you need to get everything right before you get the plant. And our deal is for two spellings in a row.
She looked a bit stricken then and said: but its just one word wrong!
And I shot off: One word is not good enough.
Okay, now go ahead and please shoot me for saying stupid stupid stupid things like this!!
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew I'd put my foot in it. But she didn't look upset then. The rest of the morning went well and she seemed alright. She had ballet class in school so I sent her off early to school instead of taking the bus and she still seemed herself - chatty and happy. But I guess that's just it about her - she will look happy but will be stressed on the inside.
So when Ms Ang called when Steve Carell was standing Juliet Binoche's bathtub, ah I knew immediately what it was. So I said I'd come by and pick her up and to please let her stay in the Sick Bay till then.
I arrived at the school around 3pm and headed for the General Office. The clerk there said she was in the Sick Bay. The lady smiled and said softly: she seems fine. Colouring and drawing inside.
So I said I would not sign her out just yet but we would talk. Out came Cait, looking quite solemn, but otherwise well. We talked. I gave her a hug and then the tears welled up in her eyes. While I didn't quite abase myself in front of her, I did apologise and tell her that I was wrong to push her on Spelling. I said that as long as we worked together everyday on spelling, I would and could see that she was already trying her best, so if she did still get a mistake or more, it would not be so bad because she did try her best. She nodded but said it wasn't because of this that she wanted to go home. It was because her classmate pushed her. Ah okay, so changed tack and talked about classmate pushing and what she could do. Then Ms Ang walked in and reassured her about speaking to the girl who pushed her. Between us we managed to distract and convince her to stay.
It was recess then so I asked her to show me her class. I'd seen it before but dutifully oohed and aahed over all that she pointed out - her desk, her name on the duty board, the bee decorations etc. By the time she was done, she was chirpy and ready to stay. And by the way, you wouldn't believe the number of pink bags and pink pencil cases everywhere in that room!
The Chinese teacher popped in and we had a brief chat. She was sympathetic and reassuring to both of us and said: its like that here, the children stress themselves and worry because the class is going at a pace where they can't catch up. One girl in Cait's class cries everyday because she feels so overwhelmed! The pace in this school is very fast and they have so much to do - not just school work, but CCA, gym, dance, leadership training etc.
We parted ways at the canteen and I left Cait with her classmates surrounding her. I said hi to her pals Juliet and Maxine and then quietly left. Had a few words with Ms Ang thanking her for her sensitivity in handling Cait. Ms Ang volunteered to cut back on the number of spelling words for her but I said no. She knows her words. It's really me - mummy has to work a lot harder at being a good mummy.
So off I went home to prepare a nice sushi dinner.
At 6.45pm when Cait got off the school bus, she ran in in her own usual exuberant way. I casually asked her, so how was the rest of school today? Great! she beamed. I got all my spelling right, she announced. That's good, I said, giving her a thumbs up. And she shot back: so you owe me a plant.
Okay, I do. And I will. Get her a nice plant I mean.
And footnote to this post: In CHIJ TP gym class and dance class is compulsory and part of the curriculum for P1 to P3. This is not part of PE lessons but actual gym and dance lessons. Gym and Dance are two of several 'Niche' CCAs that the school actively supports. So at a recent parent-teacher briefing, the principal had told us that while CCA is only offered at P3 generally, if the school sees potential in some girls for the niche CCAs, they will invite the girls to take the CCA very early on, from P2 onwards.
It looks like Cait seems to have been shortlisted for the gym CCA or extra gym classes? She came home yesterday telling me that she and her best pal Maxine and two other girls had their names taken down by the coach and a form would be sent to us next week. The girls were asked if they should like to learn 'Jumping Gym' (her words). Early days yet. Maybe this is just for the first cut and then I suppose they will trim the group even more later.
I think it is a good thing for Cait. She likes the idea, very enthusiastic about it. With her ballet background, I think its going to be either Dance or Rhythmic Gym for her. Okay I'm going to sound like a proud boasty mummy here so if you think you can't breathe while reading this blog entry thanks to mummy's big head, please feel free to puncture the balloon! I just am so proud of her and when I watched her dance in her concert, my gut feel just told me that she's got something there. I don't know what it is, a certain grace or spring, but there it is. Plus have you seen her in a leotard???
Okay, I may be running ahead of myself here. Deep breath please. I think I sound more excited than her! But well, I hope she gets in and does well in it. But at the same time, I've got to learn my lesson: DON'T PUSH IT!
Indeed it is.
There I was. Happily ensconced in my seat in a near empty Lido cinema watching the very funny Steve Carell in Dan In Real Life yesterday when the phone rang. I'd debated about whether or not to switch the phone off but because the cinema was empty and I could feel the vibration of the phone easily enough, I decided not to switch it off. And good thing I didn't.
Right at the funny bit with Steve Carell and Juliette Binoche in the bathroom/tub, the phone rang.
Caitlin's teacher Ms Ang was on the line. Caitlin was crying and said she had a tummy ache and wanted to go home so could I come by and pick her up?
Deja vu all over again!
I knew what was the problem and it wasn't her tummy. It was a combination of factors. First, this brings me back to Cait's first days in Kindergarten. Same thing happened. When she first started, everything was hunky-dory. Then after the 2nd or 3rd week, she started this: crying, tummy aches, crying the night before, crying on Sunday nights, asking if she had to go to school everyday etc. We finally figured out what was the prob - Chinese lessons (she was clueless about Chinese back then!) and an overly long bus ride everyday. We solved this by getting her a lift from Big Bernice, her very matured-minded senior in K2 whose mum picked her everyday and who, thankfully lived nearby. So problem solved and she went on to have many happy months in K1 and K2.
So now this. I'd seen it before. This time, I think I knew the problem. And I was part of it. First, English spelling and Chinese spelling all on one day. And then there's me the pushy insensitive mummy.
Yes, I screwed up.
I had told myself to go slow with her re spelling, school, adjusting etc. So we've been going through her spelling with one word a day until Tuesday. This has worked well for the past few weeks.
But yesterday, Tuesday morning and Spelling Day, I was at the PC trying to get that blasted internet home connection back on and I wasn't really thinking when she talked about the plant she wanted. I had promised to get her a plant if she got all her Spelling words right. Last week she had everything right except for 'sharpener'. So yesterday morning, I unthinkingly said: no, you need to get everything right before you get the plant. And our deal is for two spellings in a row.
She looked a bit stricken then and said: but its just one word wrong!
And I shot off: One word is not good enough.
Okay, now go ahead and please shoot me for saying stupid stupid stupid things like this!!
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew I'd put my foot in it. But she didn't look upset then. The rest of the morning went well and she seemed alright. She had ballet class in school so I sent her off early to school instead of taking the bus and she still seemed herself - chatty and happy. But I guess that's just it about her - she will look happy but will be stressed on the inside.
So when Ms Ang called when Steve Carell was standing Juliet Binoche's bathtub, ah I knew immediately what it was. So I said I'd come by and pick her up and to please let her stay in the Sick Bay till then.
I arrived at the school around 3pm and headed for the General Office. The clerk there said she was in the Sick Bay. The lady smiled and said softly: she seems fine. Colouring and drawing inside.
So I said I would not sign her out just yet but we would talk. Out came Cait, looking quite solemn, but otherwise well. We talked. I gave her a hug and then the tears welled up in her eyes. While I didn't quite abase myself in front of her, I did apologise and tell her that I was wrong to push her on Spelling. I said that as long as we worked together everyday on spelling, I would and could see that she was already trying her best, so if she did still get a mistake or more, it would not be so bad because she did try her best. She nodded but said it wasn't because of this that she wanted to go home. It was because her classmate pushed her. Ah okay, so changed tack and talked about classmate pushing and what she could do. Then Ms Ang walked in and reassured her about speaking to the girl who pushed her. Between us we managed to distract and convince her to stay.
It was recess then so I asked her to show me her class. I'd seen it before but dutifully oohed and aahed over all that she pointed out - her desk, her name on the duty board, the bee decorations etc. By the time she was done, she was chirpy and ready to stay. And by the way, you wouldn't believe the number of pink bags and pink pencil cases everywhere in that room!
The Chinese teacher popped in and we had a brief chat. She was sympathetic and reassuring to both of us and said: its like that here, the children stress themselves and worry because the class is going at a pace where they can't catch up. One girl in Cait's class cries everyday because she feels so overwhelmed! The pace in this school is very fast and they have so much to do - not just school work, but CCA, gym, dance, leadership training etc.
We parted ways at the canteen and I left Cait with her classmates surrounding her. I said hi to her pals Juliet and Maxine and then quietly left. Had a few words with Ms Ang thanking her for her sensitivity in handling Cait. Ms Ang volunteered to cut back on the number of spelling words for her but I said no. She knows her words. It's really me - mummy has to work a lot harder at being a good mummy.
So off I went home to prepare a nice sushi dinner.
At 6.45pm when Cait got off the school bus, she ran in in her own usual exuberant way. I casually asked her, so how was the rest of school today? Great! she beamed. I got all my spelling right, she announced. That's good, I said, giving her a thumbs up. And she shot back: so you owe me a plant.
Okay, I do. And I will. Get her a nice plant I mean.
And footnote to this post: In CHIJ TP gym class and dance class is compulsory and part of the curriculum for P1 to P3. This is not part of PE lessons but actual gym and dance lessons. Gym and Dance are two of several 'Niche' CCAs that the school actively supports. So at a recent parent-teacher briefing, the principal had told us that while CCA is only offered at P3 generally, if the school sees potential in some girls for the niche CCAs, they will invite the girls to take the CCA very early on, from P2 onwards.
It looks like Cait seems to have been shortlisted for the gym CCA or extra gym classes? She came home yesterday telling me that she and her best pal Maxine and two other girls had their names taken down by the coach and a form would be sent to us next week. The girls were asked if they should like to learn 'Jumping Gym' (her words). Early days yet. Maybe this is just for the first cut and then I suppose they will trim the group even more later.
I think it is a good thing for Cait. She likes the idea, very enthusiastic about it. With her ballet background, I think its going to be either Dance or Rhythmic Gym for her. Okay I'm going to sound like a proud boasty mummy here so if you think you can't breathe while reading this blog entry thanks to mummy's big head, please feel free to puncture the balloon! I just am so proud of her and when I watched her dance in her concert, my gut feel just told me that she's got something there. I don't know what it is, a certain grace or spring, but there it is. Plus have you seen her in a leotard???
Okay, I may be running ahead of myself here. Deep breath please. I think I sound more excited than her! But well, I hope she gets in and does well in it. But at the same time, I've got to learn my lesson: DON'T PUSH IT!
Money money money
It's just starting to dawn on me (a bit late I know!) that it takes a hefty sum to raise children. I know, I know, what an understatement right? And why did it take me so long to realise this?
It hit me just before year end when we were busy buying the school books. While the primary kids generally kept the books to less than $100, Gillian's books saw a big jump to past $270! And then you factor in uniforms at between $50 to $70 per kid - thats about $300 for all 4 kids going to school.
School shoes, school bags, water bottles, stationery, pencil cases, hair accessories etc were all bought in Malaysia at the Parkson year-end Back to School sale where managed to save quite a fair bit on forex with the ringgit. So every year when it gets to Dec you know where to find us shopping for school stuff - Malaysia!!
At Caitlin's P1 Orientation, we were asked to give a cheque for $285 for miscellaneous items - I guess this would cover the worksheets, the mugshots needed etc. All this was given upfront so that we would not be asked for money periodically through the year for school expenses. But more was to come and school hadn't even officially started yet!
The requests come in dribs and drabs - $205 for Caitlin's Chinese speech and drama class (which is a must for me because I don't want her to deepen her dislike for the language), $13 for Chinese newsletter, $85 for ballet for a term and $30 for a pair of ballet shoes, $54 for canteen catering. For Isaac, it's $60-something for worksheets, newsletter, etc, $30 for badminton CCA, $7 per session of fencing enrichment class. For Gillian, its $32 for Chinese Speech and Drama, $40 for Father-Daughter Bonding Workshop, $300 for bowling CCA (for the year) and $30 for catechism books. I'm not including the bag, the shoes etc for bowling since dad is picking up the tab for that!
There must be more that I am missing because I am beginning to feel like its a constant outflow! And the thing is, its all insidious - $4 here, $10 there, one kid asks and then another and before you know it, ka-pow you're robbed!
Oh and there's school bus fees which are not cheap - $100 for each kid except Gillian. Gillian takes public transport home so I top up her EZ Link card about $30 once a month. Then there's the phone - Isaac and Gillian now get their own mobile phones which cost me $10.90 a month in subscription fees and a $28 Hi-Card which I've asked her to make stretch for as long as possible.
On the miscellaneous activities front, its $40 per month for Caitlin's swimming class and $110 a month for Kumon for Isaac.
And now I'm about to ask KH to let Owain go for Berries class - which will be about $120 a month or $360 a term!
AND I have not even thought about Trin's evaluation and therapy if needed!
Aargh!
I agree with Barbs' famous line: children are not expensive, lifestyles are! Well, at 4 school-going kids and counting, this is starting to wear a bit thin for me! Based on just money alone, full-time work is looking increasingly attractive!
It's just starting to dawn on me (a bit late I know!) that it takes a hefty sum to raise children. I know, I know, what an understatement right? And why did it take me so long to realise this?
It hit me just before year end when we were busy buying the school books. While the primary kids generally kept the books to less than $100, Gillian's books saw a big jump to past $270! And then you factor in uniforms at between $50 to $70 per kid - thats about $300 for all 4 kids going to school.
School shoes, school bags, water bottles, stationery, pencil cases, hair accessories etc were all bought in Malaysia at the Parkson year-end Back to School sale where managed to save quite a fair bit on forex with the ringgit. So every year when it gets to Dec you know where to find us shopping for school stuff - Malaysia!!
At Caitlin's P1 Orientation, we were asked to give a cheque for $285 for miscellaneous items - I guess this would cover the worksheets, the mugshots needed etc. All this was given upfront so that we would not be asked for money periodically through the year for school expenses. But more was to come and school hadn't even officially started yet!
The requests come in dribs and drabs - $205 for Caitlin's Chinese speech and drama class (which is a must for me because I don't want her to deepen her dislike for the language), $13 for Chinese newsletter, $85 for ballet for a term and $30 for a pair of ballet shoes, $54 for canteen catering. For Isaac, it's $60-something for worksheets, newsletter, etc, $30 for badminton CCA, $7 per session of fencing enrichment class. For Gillian, its $32 for Chinese Speech and Drama, $40 for Father-Daughter Bonding Workshop, $300 for bowling CCA (for the year) and $30 for catechism books. I'm not including the bag, the shoes etc for bowling since dad is picking up the tab for that!
There must be more that I am missing because I am beginning to feel like its a constant outflow! And the thing is, its all insidious - $4 here, $10 there, one kid asks and then another and before you know it, ka-pow you're robbed!
Oh and there's school bus fees which are not cheap - $100 for each kid except Gillian. Gillian takes public transport home so I top up her EZ Link card about $30 once a month. Then there's the phone - Isaac and Gillian now get their own mobile phones which cost me $10.90 a month in subscription fees and a $28 Hi-Card which I've asked her to make stretch for as long as possible.
On the miscellaneous activities front, its $40 per month for Caitlin's swimming class and $110 a month for Kumon for Isaac.
And now I'm about to ask KH to let Owain go for Berries class - which will be about $120 a month or $360 a term!
AND I have not even thought about Trin's evaluation and therapy if needed!
Aargh!
I agree with Barbs' famous line: children are not expensive, lifestyles are! Well, at 4 school-going kids and counting, this is starting to wear a bit thin for me! Based on just money alone, full-time work is looking increasingly attractive!
Monday, January 21, 2008
Pain amid the mundane
It never fails to amaze me how pain can be interwoven with the mundane, that even when one feels so down, one can still function and go on. The human mind and heart can be so resilient.
Okay, reporting on the mundane first - Gillian got into the bowling team. Now her granddad thinks she is the next Big Thing and claims his granddaughter has 'potential' - he wanted to run right out and buy her her gear - the bowling shoes, the wrist guard, the ball, the bag etc. When I tried to head him off by saying I'd like to check with the school on what exactly is required, he gave me a very rude unpublishable comment that went somewhere along the lines of me being 'constipated' in my actions - to say this politely.
So there goes sunshine and water and achy arms - no more dragon boat/ODAC! To KH's secret disappointment.
Another mundane event - or maybe not so mundane, depending on your POV. Isaac went head-to-head with his daddy last Thursday night. We had come back late (for a school day) after going to the library and doing grocery shopping at J8. It was 10pm by then. KH insisted that Isaac complete his day's Kumon homework. And for KH it was not just completing it, Isaac also had to memorise the words etc to be 'tested'. This is everyday routine. But that night, Isaac was not buying it. He was just tired and wanted to sleep. He didn't like Kumon, never enjoyed it and certainly did not want to do it when he was tired and sleepy. But KH told him: You're not allowed to sleep until you finish your Kumon.
So what did my son do?
Promptly climb out of his bedroom window and sit outside on the roof in the darkness, trying to sleep!
In deadlocks like these, who else should be called to the rescue but mummy dearest - yours truly! So blur me was roused out of sleep by an irate KH, did not have the foggiest what had happened, but obediently albeit groggily went to Isaac's room and rapped on the window. I told him shortly: I don't care what happened between you and your dad. Its late. I'm sleepy. Get back in here and go to bed!
The next day when I was more awake and focused, I asked him what happened. Told him to please try to negotiate with his dad or compromise for a win-win situation. Rather than him sulking out in the darkness and his dad going to bed huffy, try for a compromise - like work on the worksheet but be tested the next night instead etc. My son listened solemnly, unblinkingly, and nodded.
But I see in him a growing boy and the seeds of adolescent independence being sown. He is 11 going on 12. But I also know that he cannot be 'handled' in the same way that KH has always 'handled' him - he cannot be just ordered around, shouted at, given ultimatums etc. And that was what I told KH in private too. I don't know how much of that sank in - probably not much - knowing his mulishness. Sigh.
So that's the mundane report. And the pain?
Well, Marc's ashes will be scattered at the big track at Sepang, KL this Saturday. This is it. Bye-bye Marc dear - you will now have a grandstand seat right in the thick of all the race action. You will always be remembered and loved.
And another source of pain - deep pain in fact - comes from within. I am facing a personal emotional crisis of sorts. These few weeks/days have been very awful emotionally. I teeter between sadness to anger to hope and back again. Like whirling around in the Mad Hatter's Tea Cup of Emotion! It's hard to juggle keeping the normalcy of life going and putting on a smiley face for a mom with all this internal turmoil going on. But I think I do a pretty good job. There were times when I've felt like I was about to burst or suffocate from the big tsunami inside. Even my blood pressure, which was well controlled with meds until this point, shot up.
I've decided to seek some professional counselling help before deciding what to do next. But life, I think, will be rather rocky from here on. I am also trying to work out my feelings by creating a private restricted blog, by talking it out with closer friends who have been through this, but I think there is only so much this can help. After a while, I start to feel like I am going round in crazy circles! I think talking to a professional might help present a more objective picture and offer me some options on what to do next. I'm optimistic. I know I'll be alright after a while.
Meanwhile, I've got to BREATHE! Inhale, exhale...
It never fails to amaze me how pain can be interwoven with the mundane, that even when one feels so down, one can still function and go on. The human mind and heart can be so resilient.
Okay, reporting on the mundane first - Gillian got into the bowling team. Now her granddad thinks she is the next Big Thing and claims his granddaughter has 'potential' - he wanted to run right out and buy her her gear - the bowling shoes, the wrist guard, the ball, the bag etc. When I tried to head him off by saying I'd like to check with the school on what exactly is required, he gave me a very rude unpublishable comment that went somewhere along the lines of me being 'constipated' in my actions - to say this politely.
So there goes sunshine and water and achy arms - no more dragon boat/ODAC! To KH's secret disappointment.
Another mundane event - or maybe not so mundane, depending on your POV. Isaac went head-to-head with his daddy last Thursday night. We had come back late (for a school day) after going to the library and doing grocery shopping at J8. It was 10pm by then. KH insisted that Isaac complete his day's Kumon homework. And for KH it was not just completing it, Isaac also had to memorise the words etc to be 'tested'. This is everyday routine. But that night, Isaac was not buying it. He was just tired and wanted to sleep. He didn't like Kumon, never enjoyed it and certainly did not want to do it when he was tired and sleepy. But KH told him: You're not allowed to sleep until you finish your Kumon.
So what did my son do?
Promptly climb out of his bedroom window and sit outside on the roof in the darkness, trying to sleep!
In deadlocks like these, who else should be called to the rescue but mummy dearest - yours truly! So blur me was roused out of sleep by an irate KH, did not have the foggiest what had happened, but obediently albeit groggily went to Isaac's room and rapped on the window. I told him shortly: I don't care what happened between you and your dad. Its late. I'm sleepy. Get back in here and go to bed!
The next day when I was more awake and focused, I asked him what happened. Told him to please try to negotiate with his dad or compromise for a win-win situation. Rather than him sulking out in the darkness and his dad going to bed huffy, try for a compromise - like work on the worksheet but be tested the next night instead etc. My son listened solemnly, unblinkingly, and nodded.
But I see in him a growing boy and the seeds of adolescent independence being sown. He is 11 going on 12. But I also know that he cannot be 'handled' in the same way that KH has always 'handled' him - he cannot be just ordered around, shouted at, given ultimatums etc. And that was what I told KH in private too. I don't know how much of that sank in - probably not much - knowing his mulishness. Sigh.
So that's the mundane report. And the pain?
Well, Marc's ashes will be scattered at the big track at Sepang, KL this Saturday. This is it. Bye-bye Marc dear - you will now have a grandstand seat right in the thick of all the race action. You will always be remembered and loved.
And another source of pain - deep pain in fact - comes from within. I am facing a personal emotional crisis of sorts. These few weeks/days have been very awful emotionally. I teeter between sadness to anger to hope and back again. Like whirling around in the Mad Hatter's Tea Cup of Emotion! It's hard to juggle keeping the normalcy of life going and putting on a smiley face for a mom with all this internal turmoil going on. But I think I do a pretty good job. There were times when I've felt like I was about to burst or suffocate from the big tsunami inside. Even my blood pressure, which was well controlled with meds until this point, shot up.
I've decided to seek some professional counselling help before deciding what to do next. But life, I think, will be rather rocky from here on. I am also trying to work out my feelings by creating a private restricted blog, by talking it out with closer friends who have been through this, but I think there is only so much this can help. After a while, I start to feel like I am going round in crazy circles! I think talking to a professional might help present a more objective picture and offer me some options on what to do next. I'm optimistic. I know I'll be alright after a while.
Meanwhile, I've got to BREATHE! Inhale, exhale...
Monday, January 07, 2008
Of Friends and Dads
Gillian's first days in KC went better than expected. She came home happy and said she'd made friends. Which was better than I expected, given that in the days before school started, her new-school anxiety was covered up by the usual teen sulky face, hair flips and muttered intonations about school being "boring", everyone being really "boring" and how the act of making friends was yes, oh so "boring"! Oh get a new vocab already!
So day 1, I was pleased to hear her say "I made some friends like you told me to!" (though of course I wish she'd made friends because she wanted to, not because I told her to - sigh!)
Day 2, still had the same friends. Turns out that they were the cute, mixed-looking girls from KC Pri. I had seen them on Orientation Day in December. Gillian's class largely comprised girls from other schools and the bunch from KC Pri was a small one even though KCP was affiliated to KC. Okay, I stress these are first impressions and first impressions might not be very useful in the long run. The KC girls look like they already knew each other (of course! Same school!) and were already a clique. The other girls from the other schools were looking lost and standing around. I don't know about you, but for me, I would have drifted towards the other loners and hoped to find someone whom I could click with - since everyone also looked lost like me. I would steer clear of the cliques - especially if they looked smart, tart, good-looking and cool - but that's just me with the low self-esteem speaking!
Day 3 and the warning bells have officially sounded a peal! Gillian came home round eyed with stories swapped during Chinese lessons. Since we had applied for Chinese exemption, Gillian had been spending her Chinese lessons outside of class with another classmate (from KC Pri) who was also applying for exemptions. And these two girls have been busy waggling tongues on hot 'gossip' on the KCP girls in their class. Like so-and-so had had sex and had an abortion, like so-and-so smokes ("but only one puff mum!"), like so-and-so were part of a gang and beat up other girls ("but they're not going to do it anymore cos they're scared of the discipline mistress!"), like so-and-so 'hated' her body and got hurt many times ("she broke her neck too mum!" at which I raise one sceptical eyebrow).
So warning bells now going clang-clang-clang in my head, I wonder what to do/say while maintaining Zen mum outlook. My first instinct is to pounce and say: Okay, lose these friends NOW.
But then instinct tells me that if I go heavy-handed in this, she will be defensive and batten the hatches and then there will be no way I can get my 2 cents in.
So I say as mildly as I can even tho the horror stories are starting to curdle my blood, "Er, maybe you shouldn't believe all that you hear. This is just gossip." Maybe that should apply to me too eh? I shouldn't believe all that I hear.
Instead I tell her about my JC days when I made so many wrong choices, leaving my bunch of down-to-earth pals in VJC for RJC just for prestige sake and to thumb one up my ex's nose since I made it and he didn't, even though he was from RI. Then there was the bad bad bad mistake of trying too hard to fit in with the popular crowd in my first year which led to a hard comedown at the end of Year 1 and stinky results, and later backpedalling but too late to better grades at the A Levels. I forgot that RJC kids are brilliant kids - the kind who can party hard, captain hockey teams and still come up with As. I, on the other hand, thought the glam and cool would rub off on me, but forgot that our basic DNA is not the same - I was not as brilliant and needed time to knuckle down to work/study. And there were just not enough hours in the day to party party party, be distracted by boys, moon about campus and still study enough to get decent grades. There is always a price to pay for the choices we make.
So my basic message to her is: "You can hang out with whoever you think is fun or cool and it is okay to like them, or even wish you could be like them, but you don't have to do everything they do. You don't have to like or agree with everything they like/tell you to do. If you feel that something is not right, be brave enough to say no and not do it. And sometimes you can try very very hard to be like your friends, but you're still not them - you're still you. And there is nothing wrong with that. Some friends may stick by you, but some friends, the minute you're in trouble, scatter and run. So you've got to be careful whom you trust and this sort of thing takes time, so don't be in a hurry to just stick to one group of friends. Talk to other girls in your class - you never know who else you can click with."
Strategically though, as a mom, I think its time to get to know G better and to be open and to get to know her friends better. And if I really really disliked them, to never let her know. Maybe its time to invite her friends over. (But I sense this group might find our house decidedly un-cool since we lack the usual gadgets and my house rule includes no holing up inside bedrooms with the door closed!) Still, maybe her coming 13th birthday might be a good time. I think I really have to keep her close - not in a vice-like grip to watch over her like a warden - but to be emotionally as close as I can.
And as for dads - well, we attended a parenting talk at KC on Sat because G had to attend a CCA Fair to choose her CCA. And part of the talk included the emphasis on the fact that dads need to be closer to their daughters, to take active part in their lives. Their journey into womanhood should not be accompanied only by their mother. So in a move that surprised me, KH prompted signed up for Dads N Daughters Day - Feb 16 - where dads and daughters get to bond in an arts n craft session! It surprised me because up till now, KH has always said he would leave 'woman things' to me and I would presume this includes all the touchy-feely emo stuff that men generally view with horror.
But I think we both recognise that our parenting roles are shifting a bit now. And as always, there is hard work ahead. This, at 13 and in Sec 1, is only the beginning of a whole new phase.
Incidentally what CCA did she choose? Well, she had told me she wanted Bowling as first choice and then ODAC (Outdoor Activities Club) as second choice and IJ Mission as third choice. But on that day, she surprised us when she told us she'd signed up for the new uniformed group - National Cadet Civil Defence Force! Our jaws hung open when she first told us. Then, struggling to be laidback, to let her make her choice and yet not wanting her to make disasterous choices, KH and I fumbled our way painfully to say a variety of the following:
"WHAT? I thought you said you wanted Bowling?? But... (deep breaths)... it is YOUR choice. You should make up your own mind. BUT you should think very very VERY carefully. Think hard about whether it is what you really want. Think very very hard. Because there is no turning back. Because once you sign up, you can't change CCA and that will last you for FIVE years. Think about that! Are you sure you want to be NCCDF for five years??"
"Bowling is good what... you always said you liked it. Are you SURE about the NCCDF?"
"Oh yeah? What's so fun about NCCDF huh??? There is nothing remotely fun about rolling up and running with a humongously heavy water hose in the hot sun I tell ya!"
"Bowling is fun right? I thought you liked it... And the ODAC is also fun... dragon boating, roller blading... What? No, the NCCDF people only showed you the fun stuff but that's only once in a blue blue blue moon - when you have camp, not all the time. Most of the time you'll be marching marching marching!"
"Rolling hoses!"
"And you'll have to go to the Civil Defence Academy. In Jurong!! Do you know how far that is? Bowling is just down the road at Chinese Swimming Club. And dragon boating is at Bedok Reservoir - right next to mummy's office - we can go home together!"
"Better think carefully... but its your choice."
"You decide."
And so on. Finally she said: Okay, wait here. Dashed off. Came back and said: Okay, I cancelled it. All my friends also cancelled. They joined badminton instead.
She signed up for bowling eventually. But there are only 8 places so she'll go for the selection trials on Wed. Then second choice she kept to ODAC - and she will go for the selection trials then too. I think she would do well in either bowling or ODAC - look at her big frame, her big shoulders and arms! Lots of power there...
I think I need to work on my mum anxiety level. And learn to LET GO!
Gillian's first days in KC went better than expected. She came home happy and said she'd made friends. Which was better than I expected, given that in the days before school started, her new-school anxiety was covered up by the usual teen sulky face, hair flips and muttered intonations about school being "boring", everyone being really "boring" and how the act of making friends was yes, oh so "boring"! Oh get a new vocab already!
So day 1, I was pleased to hear her say "I made some friends like you told me to!" (though of course I wish she'd made friends because she wanted to, not because I told her to - sigh!)
Day 2, still had the same friends. Turns out that they were the cute, mixed-looking girls from KC Pri. I had seen them on Orientation Day in December. Gillian's class largely comprised girls from other schools and the bunch from KC Pri was a small one even though KCP was affiliated to KC. Okay, I stress these are first impressions and first impressions might not be very useful in the long run. The KC girls look like they already knew each other (of course! Same school!) and were already a clique. The other girls from the other schools were looking lost and standing around. I don't know about you, but for me, I would have drifted towards the other loners and hoped to find someone whom I could click with - since everyone also looked lost like me. I would steer clear of the cliques - especially if they looked smart, tart, good-looking and cool - but that's just me with the low self-esteem speaking!
Day 3 and the warning bells have officially sounded a peal! Gillian came home round eyed with stories swapped during Chinese lessons. Since we had applied for Chinese exemption, Gillian had been spending her Chinese lessons outside of class with another classmate (from KC Pri) who was also applying for exemptions. And these two girls have been busy waggling tongues on hot 'gossip' on the KCP girls in their class. Like so-and-so had had sex and had an abortion, like so-and-so smokes ("but only one puff mum!"), like so-and-so were part of a gang and beat up other girls ("but they're not going to do it anymore cos they're scared of the discipline mistress!"), like so-and-so 'hated' her body and got hurt many times ("she broke her neck too mum!" at which I raise one sceptical eyebrow).
So warning bells now going clang-clang-clang in my head, I wonder what to do/say while maintaining Zen mum outlook. My first instinct is to pounce and say: Okay, lose these friends NOW.
But then instinct tells me that if I go heavy-handed in this, she will be defensive and batten the hatches and then there will be no way I can get my 2 cents in.
So I say as mildly as I can even tho the horror stories are starting to curdle my blood, "Er, maybe you shouldn't believe all that you hear. This is just gossip." Maybe that should apply to me too eh? I shouldn't believe all that I hear.
Instead I tell her about my JC days when I made so many wrong choices, leaving my bunch of down-to-earth pals in VJC for RJC just for prestige sake and to thumb one up my ex's nose since I made it and he didn't, even though he was from RI. Then there was the bad bad bad mistake of trying too hard to fit in with the popular crowd in my first year which led to a hard comedown at the end of Year 1 and stinky results, and later backpedalling but too late to better grades at the A Levels. I forgot that RJC kids are brilliant kids - the kind who can party hard, captain hockey teams and still come up with As. I, on the other hand, thought the glam and cool would rub off on me, but forgot that our basic DNA is not the same - I was not as brilliant and needed time to knuckle down to work/study. And there were just not enough hours in the day to party party party, be distracted by boys, moon about campus and still study enough to get decent grades. There is always a price to pay for the choices we make.
So my basic message to her is: "You can hang out with whoever you think is fun or cool and it is okay to like them, or even wish you could be like them, but you don't have to do everything they do. You don't have to like or agree with everything they like/tell you to do. If you feel that something is not right, be brave enough to say no and not do it. And sometimes you can try very very hard to be like your friends, but you're still not them - you're still you. And there is nothing wrong with that. Some friends may stick by you, but some friends, the minute you're in trouble, scatter and run. So you've got to be careful whom you trust and this sort of thing takes time, so don't be in a hurry to just stick to one group of friends. Talk to other girls in your class - you never know who else you can click with."
Strategically though, as a mom, I think its time to get to know G better and to be open and to get to know her friends better. And if I really really disliked them, to never let her know. Maybe its time to invite her friends over. (But I sense this group might find our house decidedly un-cool since we lack the usual gadgets and my house rule includes no holing up inside bedrooms with the door closed!) Still, maybe her coming 13th birthday might be a good time. I think I really have to keep her close - not in a vice-like grip to watch over her like a warden - but to be emotionally as close as I can.
And as for dads - well, we attended a parenting talk at KC on Sat because G had to attend a CCA Fair to choose her CCA. And part of the talk included the emphasis on the fact that dads need to be closer to their daughters, to take active part in their lives. Their journey into womanhood should not be accompanied only by their mother. So in a move that surprised me, KH prompted signed up for Dads N Daughters Day - Feb 16 - where dads and daughters get to bond in an arts n craft session! It surprised me because up till now, KH has always said he would leave 'woman things' to me and I would presume this includes all the touchy-feely emo stuff that men generally view with horror.
But I think we both recognise that our parenting roles are shifting a bit now. And as always, there is hard work ahead. This, at 13 and in Sec 1, is only the beginning of a whole new phase.
Incidentally what CCA did she choose? Well, she had told me she wanted Bowling as first choice and then ODAC (Outdoor Activities Club) as second choice and IJ Mission as third choice. But on that day, she surprised us when she told us she'd signed up for the new uniformed group - National Cadet Civil Defence Force! Our jaws hung open when she first told us. Then, struggling to be laidback, to let her make her choice and yet not wanting her to make disasterous choices, KH and I fumbled our way painfully to say a variety of the following:
"WHAT? I thought you said you wanted Bowling?? But... (deep breaths)... it is YOUR choice. You should make up your own mind. BUT you should think very very VERY carefully. Think hard about whether it is what you really want. Think very very hard. Because there is no turning back. Because once you sign up, you can't change CCA and that will last you for FIVE years. Think about that! Are you sure you want to be NCCDF for five years??"
"Bowling is good what... you always said you liked it. Are you SURE about the NCCDF?"
"Oh yeah? What's so fun about NCCDF huh??? There is nothing remotely fun about rolling up and running with a humongously heavy water hose in the hot sun I tell ya!"
"Bowling is fun right? I thought you liked it... And the ODAC is also fun... dragon boating, roller blading... What? No, the NCCDF people only showed you the fun stuff but that's only once in a blue blue blue moon - when you have camp, not all the time. Most of the time you'll be marching marching marching!"
"Rolling hoses!"
"And you'll have to go to the Civil Defence Academy. In Jurong!! Do you know how far that is? Bowling is just down the road at Chinese Swimming Club. And dragon boating is at Bedok Reservoir - right next to mummy's office - we can go home together!"
"Better think carefully... but its your choice."
"You decide."
And so on. Finally she said: Okay, wait here. Dashed off. Came back and said: Okay, I cancelled it. All my friends also cancelled. They joined badminton instead.
She signed up for bowling eventually. But there are only 8 places so she'll go for the selection trials on Wed. Then second choice she kept to ODAC - and she will go for the selection trials then too. I think she would do well in either bowling or ODAC - look at her big frame, her big shoulders and arms! Lots of power there...
I think I need to work on my mum anxiety level. And learn to LET GO!
Catching up
With all that has happened in the past weeks, I have not posted on what's happening at Riang. So I thought a quick post would be in order today to bring things up to speed.
Well the biggest event so far was Back-to-School Day on 2 Jan 2008! One of those days where you wished you could split yourself into many parts so that you could be at several places at once!
A big day for us because it was Sec 1 for Gillian, P1 for Caitlin and K1 for Owain. KH sent Gillian to school (and will continue to do so because KC starts at 7.25am and the school is VERY strict on punctuality, and given the journey from my place, if G were to take a bus, she would have to leave the house at 6am! So we decided that KH would send her to school and she would take public transport back home.) at 6.30am while I stayed home to get Owain ready for school.
He didn't have the school uniform yet (long story) so went to school in his King of Cool tee! He was grumpy because he woke up too late to have his brekkie of instant noodles, but was a really cool trooper who gamely went up the school bus, said bye-bye mummy loudly and went off all by himself. I was so proud of him but can tell you that my heart also ached so badly. It was the first time in his life that I ever let him go anywhere without me or someone from the family.
He's growing so fast and going off to school by himself without mummy is the first step towards independence. I'm not sure if I'm ready for it.
Then KH came home and we drove to O's school where KH parked himself at the side gate to wait for O's bus to arrive, armed with camera. I went off to get the uniforms sorted.
When the bus finally arrived, late, KH started clicking like mad. O looked so cute. He's got this perpetual resigned stoic look about him, like "I don't really like it/I'm a bit apprehensive, but lets get this over with!" And as usual the teachers oohed and aahed over him because he's just so cute - he was the tiniest kid there - even smaller than the girls! There were only the K1 and K2 kids there that morning and I can safely say he's the smallest of the lot. But oh so cute with his curly hair, round face and patiently resigned look!
I settled him in, changed him into his uniform, and while we were at it in the loo, shot a stream of breastmilk into his eye since he had a bit of pink-eye that morning. He looked even more adorable in his school uniform - green shorts, cream shirt and green tie! And because they were a bit oversized, he looked like one of the kids in The Little Rascals.
A whole bank of parents were hanging around outside the classroom - yes yours truly included! KH was busy snapping pictures of his son at the table, his son eating Oreos for brekkie, his son drinking Milo, his son at circle time, his son singing a song... you get the picture!
It may be early days yet but I didn't think I had good vibes about O's teacher. Certainly not the full confidence that I found in Caitlin's teacher Teacher Trace. O's teacher seemed a bit hesitant and did not seem able to create the same type of rapport or atmosphere with the kids in class. When I registered him for school, I asked for him to be in Teacher Trace's class, but the office was evasive and fudged me off. It was only after I had paid the fees etc, walked over to Teacher Trace's class to say goodbye, thank-you etc that I found out that she was leaving! There and then I was tempted to pull O out and put him in the same kindy she was joining - Good Shepherd Kindy at Nallur Road. The knowledge that MK was getting a new principal fresh from Kinderland also did not sit well. I liked the laidback, learn-thru-play, no pressure atmosphere at MK and was a bit apprehensive that Kinderland (having had prior experience of Kinderland in G's time) might change that. And that first-day morning, meeting his teacher and watching how she interacted with the kids in class, my confidence level just didn't feel good. So I told KH I'd give it a term and see. If I still didn't get good vibes, I am not averse to the idea of pulling him out and putting him in Good Shepherd Kindy.
After I managed to pry the proud daddy and his camera away from the K1 class windows, we headed for a late brekkie at one of my favourite wanton mee places at Tembeling Road - yum! Then it was off home to take Cait to school. She was dressed in her uniform, ready and eager to go since 10am even though school only started at 2.30pm! By the time we left the house, she had bugged us no end about "is it time to go to school now??"
CHIJ TP was really no-nonsense. I had imagined at least taking her up to the hall, watching her as she sat with her class and waving bye-bye as the class went off to the classrooms. But no, hordes of equally bewildered parents had their plans for long, lingering and loving goodbyes cut short by efficient teachers who cordoned off the stairway to the hall, firmly taking charge of the girls and leading them upstairs - no parents allowed to follow. I could almost hear the silent "But - but - but!!" going on. KH, like them, was deprived of his photo ops. So I just kissed her, told her to have fun and to enjoy school, handed her over to the VP and left.
Cait was her usual sanguine self - sunny and eager for school. So I have no worries. For now. This might just come and bite me in the butt two weeks later. I seem to recall saying the same thing about her in K1 but once the novelty wore off, she howled for months in the morning, whined about putting on her uniform, developed a tummy ache, cried on Sunday nights and generally acted like school was anathema to her.
But for now at least, she seems happy to go to school. She came home at 6.50pm in her school bus, her neatly tied up hair now half undone and eyes shining, waving goodbye to her other P1 mates in the bus - who would have a long long ride home since they lived in Changi and Pasir Ris! (Yes I kid you not. I really wonder why these parents do this to their children.)
Dinner at home that day was a raucous affair with everyone trying to speak (and all with their mouths full!) at the same time. Everyone seemed positive and chirpy. Isaac was happy to be with his sidekick Patrick again, after being cruelly separated by the school holidays for more than 6 weeks. Gillian said she made some friends - girls from KC Pri (and warning bells started to ring in my head, I had seen the KC Pri girls in her class and they looked a fun, havoc bunch!) and generally thought school was fun and boring - yes have fun figuring out the paradox! Owain said he liked school, but did not make any friends (and no, contrary to his sister teasing, no girl has said he was cute yet!) and oh yes, he peed in his pants in the bus! The journey is long - about an hour - even though MK is just a straight 5min drive from our house by car! So O said he could not 'tahan' anymore and peed in his pants "a bit!". So I told him that he should go to the toilet before getting on the bus and to raise his hand, tell his teacher and ask to go. He's been faithfully doing this since and has not wet himself since that day. Caitlin said school was fun, teacher is nice, she liked it a lot and even though she can't remember the names of her table-mates, it was lucky to have Juliet (her MK classmate) in the same class!
I told KH that it was good to hear that they all had good experiences so far - but geez, my babies were growing up and away from me. It's too soon! I only have Trin at home and in a few short years, she too would take the first steps on that bus to K1 and that would be the beginning of letting go. Maybe we should have another baby? I suggested. Sigh, went he. Heh.
With all that has happened in the past weeks, I have not posted on what's happening at Riang. So I thought a quick post would be in order today to bring things up to speed.
Well the biggest event so far was Back-to-School Day on 2 Jan 2008! One of those days where you wished you could split yourself into many parts so that you could be at several places at once!
A big day for us because it was Sec 1 for Gillian, P1 for Caitlin and K1 for Owain. KH sent Gillian to school (and will continue to do so because KC starts at 7.25am and the school is VERY strict on punctuality, and given the journey from my place, if G were to take a bus, she would have to leave the house at 6am! So we decided that KH would send her to school and she would take public transport back home.) at 6.30am while I stayed home to get Owain ready for school.
He didn't have the school uniform yet (long story) so went to school in his King of Cool tee! He was grumpy because he woke up too late to have his brekkie of instant noodles, but was a really cool trooper who gamely went up the school bus, said bye-bye mummy loudly and went off all by himself. I was so proud of him but can tell you that my heart also ached so badly. It was the first time in his life that I ever let him go anywhere without me or someone from the family.
He's growing so fast and going off to school by himself without mummy is the first step towards independence. I'm not sure if I'm ready for it.
Then KH came home and we drove to O's school where KH parked himself at the side gate to wait for O's bus to arrive, armed with camera. I went off to get the uniforms sorted.
When the bus finally arrived, late, KH started clicking like mad. O looked so cute. He's got this perpetual resigned stoic look about him, like "I don't really like it/I'm a bit apprehensive, but lets get this over with!" And as usual the teachers oohed and aahed over him because he's just so cute - he was the tiniest kid there - even smaller than the girls! There were only the K1 and K2 kids there that morning and I can safely say he's the smallest of the lot. But oh so cute with his curly hair, round face and patiently resigned look!
I settled him in, changed him into his uniform, and while we were at it in the loo, shot a stream of breastmilk into his eye since he had a bit of pink-eye that morning. He looked even more adorable in his school uniform - green shorts, cream shirt and green tie! And because they were a bit oversized, he looked like one of the kids in The Little Rascals.
A whole bank of parents were hanging around outside the classroom - yes yours truly included! KH was busy snapping pictures of his son at the table, his son eating Oreos for brekkie, his son drinking Milo, his son at circle time, his son singing a song... you get the picture!
It may be early days yet but I didn't think I had good vibes about O's teacher. Certainly not the full confidence that I found in Caitlin's teacher Teacher Trace. O's teacher seemed a bit hesitant and did not seem able to create the same type of rapport or atmosphere with the kids in class. When I registered him for school, I asked for him to be in Teacher Trace's class, but the office was evasive and fudged me off. It was only after I had paid the fees etc, walked over to Teacher Trace's class to say goodbye, thank-you etc that I found out that she was leaving! There and then I was tempted to pull O out and put him in the same kindy she was joining - Good Shepherd Kindy at Nallur Road. The knowledge that MK was getting a new principal fresh from Kinderland also did not sit well. I liked the laidback, learn-thru-play, no pressure atmosphere at MK and was a bit apprehensive that Kinderland (having had prior experience of Kinderland in G's time) might change that. And that first-day morning, meeting his teacher and watching how she interacted with the kids in class, my confidence level just didn't feel good. So I told KH I'd give it a term and see. If I still didn't get good vibes, I am not averse to the idea of pulling him out and putting him in Good Shepherd Kindy.
After I managed to pry the proud daddy and his camera away from the K1 class windows, we headed for a late brekkie at one of my favourite wanton mee places at Tembeling Road - yum! Then it was off home to take Cait to school. She was dressed in her uniform, ready and eager to go since 10am even though school only started at 2.30pm! By the time we left the house, she had bugged us no end about "is it time to go to school now??"
CHIJ TP was really no-nonsense. I had imagined at least taking her up to the hall, watching her as she sat with her class and waving bye-bye as the class went off to the classrooms. But no, hordes of equally bewildered parents had their plans for long, lingering and loving goodbyes cut short by efficient teachers who cordoned off the stairway to the hall, firmly taking charge of the girls and leading them upstairs - no parents allowed to follow. I could almost hear the silent "But - but - but!!" going on. KH, like them, was deprived of his photo ops. So I just kissed her, told her to have fun and to enjoy school, handed her over to the VP and left.
Cait was her usual sanguine self - sunny and eager for school. So I have no worries. For now. This might just come and bite me in the butt two weeks later. I seem to recall saying the same thing about her in K1 but once the novelty wore off, she howled for months in the morning, whined about putting on her uniform, developed a tummy ache, cried on Sunday nights and generally acted like school was anathema to her.
But for now at least, she seems happy to go to school. She came home at 6.50pm in her school bus, her neatly tied up hair now half undone and eyes shining, waving goodbye to her other P1 mates in the bus - who would have a long long ride home since they lived in Changi and Pasir Ris! (Yes I kid you not. I really wonder why these parents do this to their children.)
Dinner at home that day was a raucous affair with everyone trying to speak (and all with their mouths full!) at the same time. Everyone seemed positive and chirpy. Isaac was happy to be with his sidekick Patrick again, after being cruelly separated by the school holidays for more than 6 weeks. Gillian said she made some friends - girls from KC Pri (and warning bells started to ring in my head, I had seen the KC Pri girls in her class and they looked a fun, havoc bunch!) and generally thought school was fun and boring - yes have fun figuring out the paradox! Owain said he liked school, but did not make any friends (and no, contrary to his sister teasing, no girl has said he was cute yet!) and oh yes, he peed in his pants in the bus! The journey is long - about an hour - even though MK is just a straight 5min drive from our house by car! So O said he could not 'tahan' anymore and peed in his pants "a bit!". So I told him that he should go to the toilet before getting on the bus and to raise his hand, tell his teacher and ask to go. He's been faithfully doing this since and has not wet himself since that day. Caitlin said school was fun, teacher is nice, she liked it a lot and even though she can't remember the names of her table-mates, it was lucky to have Juliet (her MK classmate) in the same class!
I told KH that it was good to hear that they all had good experiences so far - but geez, my babies were growing up and away from me. It's too soon! I only have Trin at home and in a few short years, she too would take the first steps on that bus to K1 and that would be the beginning of letting go. Maybe we should have another baby? I suggested. Sigh, went he. Heh.
Friday, January 04, 2008
Tantrum update 2
Had a bad one last night. She screamed because I refused to give her a chocolated coated cookie finger from the fridge at 11pm!
So KH brought her up to the room - still yowling away - and put her on the floor. Then KH and I got into bed, switched on our bedside lights and continued to read. Meanwhile Trin is still screaming her head off, drumming her heels on the floor.
I have to say that I now feel a bit bad for not feeling bad last night. Maybe I am getting to be a bit immune to all the hysterics - which is bad right? I have read that controlled crying has this effect on parents who practise it - the growing immunity and decreased sensitivity to the cries. I tell myself that the difference is this one is 26months old and no longer a vulnerable newborn!
After a while, she stood up, still screaming and crying and looked at us on the bed. She held her arms out and cried: Me, me, me!
I sat there and opened my arms and waited. She came over, climbed up and I pulled her onto my lap and we nursed. Now all peace and quiet, just some hiccupy sobs once in a while. Then we lay down together, nursed in bed and drifted off to sleep.
Maybe this is the way to go?
Had a bad one last night. She screamed because I refused to give her a chocolated coated cookie finger from the fridge at 11pm!
So KH brought her up to the room - still yowling away - and put her on the floor. Then KH and I got into bed, switched on our bedside lights and continued to read. Meanwhile Trin is still screaming her head off, drumming her heels on the floor.
I have to say that I now feel a bit bad for not feeling bad last night. Maybe I am getting to be a bit immune to all the hysterics - which is bad right? I have read that controlled crying has this effect on parents who practise it - the growing immunity and decreased sensitivity to the cries. I tell myself that the difference is this one is 26months old and no longer a vulnerable newborn!
After a while, she stood up, still screaming and crying and looked at us on the bed. She held her arms out and cried: Me, me, me!
I sat there and opened my arms and waited. She came over, climbed up and I pulled her onto my lap and we nursed. Now all peace and quiet, just some hiccupy sobs once in a while. Then we lay down together, nursed in bed and drifted off to sleep.
Maybe this is the way to go?
Life After Death
I just sat through two hours of ploughing through the forum posts on Marc's death at the singaporebikes.com forum. Some posts left me smiling, some posts left me teary. The number of people who remembered Marc for his smile! He was a nice guy and that shone through in the number of tributes his fellow bikers paid him. I was so moved to read them.
Uncle B and Aunty P also posted a message thanking everyone for their support during this time.
I have uploaded his funeral pictures on the web album. For now, it is only open to Aunty P and family. I think they might want to post pictures of the bikers convoy on singaporebikes.com too. Will leave it to them to do so and not jump the gun here.
Reading the posts on singaporebikes.com helped me feel a bit better. I also feel a bit more resigned towards the a****** who was responsible for Marc's death. Slugging my handbag about his head will not bring Marc back. It might help me feel better though! But honestly, there is no point in feeling bitter and angry. Marc is gone. Gone is gone.
On New Year's Day, we all paid a visit to granddad in the Holy Trinity columbarium. Aunty P came as well. She looked tired and very fragile emotionally. R still looked shell-shocked. I think only Uncle B's immense strength is holding things up. We all had a word with granddad quietly in our hearts. Its been 6 years already. Then Aunty P choked up when she told granddad that Marc was gone and to ask granddad to take care of his grandson. Who didn't tear up then?
Later I gave Aunty P a hug and told her: well, Marc is not only with granddad now, but also with Aunty Sam! Ah the indomitable Sam Tan. What a lovely woman and a generous, fun and strong and delightful personality. She's not my blood-related aunt but Uncle B's sister, and therefore Marc's direct aunt. I'd gotten to know her as a child and really liked/enjoyed her gung-ho, free-spirited, fun, happy-go-lucky ways. She was a grand great gal! She lived life passionately too. She died of cancer some years ago and is still remembered in my prayers. And that was one thing that cheered me up a bit - that Marc is now with Aunty Sam! Aunty Sam would take good care of him.
My prayer list for loved ones gone away is getting longer. And I can never seem to finish reciting the names of them all before the priest carries on with the rest of the mass. I always frantically try to say them all, but usually, its the faces that come to me and not the names. I told mum this the other day and she said ah well, God knows who they are already. When you get older, it can only get longer.
But for the record, here is my complete list:
Marc
Granddad
Ah Ma
Kong Kong
Aunty Kitty
Aunty Catherine
Aunty Sam
My father-in-law
My grandmother-in-law
Baby Paul Emmaus
My friend Kenneth's nephew
Eileen (my Library kaki and colleague)
Mrs Ng my geography teacher
Mrs Thwaites my Literature teacher (the singing gorgon)
Bonny Hicks (yes the model/writer who lived the infamous high life - to me, she would always only be just my school mate, the beautiful girl with the shy smile who lived a floor below me, with her sausage dog and her siamese cat)
So God, now you know. Bless them all and give them rest in Your house. And may they be my welcoming committee when its my turn to go.
What do I mean by that?
I've heard beautiful things about life after death. Mostly my images are shaped by my Catholic upbringing. But there are other things too - shaped by shifting dreams. My friend Kenneth, who lost his brother-in-law and young nephew in a bad car accident, said that his mother so wracked by grief and injury from the same car accident, had a dream that her grandson was playing in a beautiful meadow full of green and flowers with many other children playing and running around. He looked well and told her not to worry, he was in a good place and he was happy. Wow - a meadow filled with flowers, full of happy children.
Well, whether it is a meadow, a palace with many rooms (so says the bible!) or cloudy terrain with angel harpists and choirs, whatever your image of life after may be, I believe in it. It's there waiting.
Being Catholic, we are always told that we should pray for those who have died and to remember them, because they too remember us and pray for us. And at the time of our death, they may be the ones to come welcome us. One memorable account of this is taken from Joan Hon's lovely book about the late Hon Sui Sen. Ms Hon (also a Catholic) was writing about the deathbed of her aunt, a gentle, loving woman from all accounts. This lady was dying and in the minutes before her death, there was an incident which seemed to indicate that she was greeted by the soul of her long-dead teacher/mentor whom she had loved and who had loved her dearly too. She passed away not long after.
Experiences closer to home are my own dreams of my kong-kong - a black and white dream of all of us on this windswept hill-top, far below us a sparkling sea. We (his whole family) were seated in ringed tiers of wooden pews. We could see kong-kong and while I can't remember the words or any conversation, I just got the feeling that he was alright now, at peace. This came years after his death - because he died when I was 5 - and I had this dream only a year or so ago. Mum also had dreams of granddad in church with her and then taking a bus with her, looking neat and well and telling her he was fine.
Of course there were all those that we learnt about purgatory, about why prayers are needful - the dead are still part of our family just as we are part of theirs. We're just in different places at the same time. Praying helps to connect us. We remember them this way, we think about them. And vice versa. And right up to our own death, as we go on to life after that, they will be right there, smiling and ready to greet us and bring us home.
I don't know how true this is or how far off I am from Catholic doctrine, but I read this somewhere and it always seemed nice for me to know that on Christmas Day 1000 souls are released from purgatory to join the angels in heaven. And who comes to greet them home? Mother Mary of course. Lovely image isn't it? I find this so comforting, especially now.
I have always believed that there is a better place after this earth. What comforts me is knowing that the people we love who have gone on are now there, or on their way there.
And I strongly believe in what I told Aunty P: that Marc is now with granddad and with Aunty Sam, who will surely look after him. We have to keep praying for him, knowing that one day, when its our turn to go, they will be right there waiting for us. And knowing this, how can we fear death?
I just sat through two hours of ploughing through the forum posts on Marc's death at the singaporebikes.com forum. Some posts left me smiling, some posts left me teary. The number of people who remembered Marc for his smile! He was a nice guy and that shone through in the number of tributes his fellow bikers paid him. I was so moved to read them.
Uncle B and Aunty P also posted a message thanking everyone for their support during this time.
I have uploaded his funeral pictures on the web album. For now, it is only open to Aunty P and family. I think they might want to post pictures of the bikers convoy on singaporebikes.com too. Will leave it to them to do so and not jump the gun here.
Reading the posts on singaporebikes.com helped me feel a bit better. I also feel a bit more resigned towards the a****** who was responsible for Marc's death. Slugging my handbag about his head will not bring Marc back. It might help me feel better though! But honestly, there is no point in feeling bitter and angry. Marc is gone. Gone is gone.
On New Year's Day, we all paid a visit to granddad in the Holy Trinity columbarium. Aunty P came as well. She looked tired and very fragile emotionally. R still looked shell-shocked. I think only Uncle B's immense strength is holding things up. We all had a word with granddad quietly in our hearts. Its been 6 years already. Then Aunty P choked up when she told granddad that Marc was gone and to ask granddad to take care of his grandson. Who didn't tear up then?
Later I gave Aunty P a hug and told her: well, Marc is not only with granddad now, but also with Aunty Sam! Ah the indomitable Sam Tan. What a lovely woman and a generous, fun and strong and delightful personality. She's not my blood-related aunt but Uncle B's sister, and therefore Marc's direct aunt. I'd gotten to know her as a child and really liked/enjoyed her gung-ho, free-spirited, fun, happy-go-lucky ways. She was a grand great gal! She lived life passionately too. She died of cancer some years ago and is still remembered in my prayers. And that was one thing that cheered me up a bit - that Marc is now with Aunty Sam! Aunty Sam would take good care of him.
My prayer list for loved ones gone away is getting longer. And I can never seem to finish reciting the names of them all before the priest carries on with the rest of the mass. I always frantically try to say them all, but usually, its the faces that come to me and not the names. I told mum this the other day and she said ah well, God knows who they are already. When you get older, it can only get longer.
But for the record, here is my complete list:
Marc
Granddad
Ah Ma
Kong Kong
Aunty Kitty
Aunty Catherine
Aunty Sam
My father-in-law
My grandmother-in-law
Baby Paul Emmaus
My friend Kenneth's nephew
Eileen (my Library kaki and colleague)
Mrs Ng my geography teacher
Mrs Thwaites my Literature teacher (the singing gorgon)
Bonny Hicks (yes the model/writer who lived the infamous high life - to me, she would always only be just my school mate, the beautiful girl with the shy smile who lived a floor below me, with her sausage dog and her siamese cat)
So God, now you know. Bless them all and give them rest in Your house. And may they be my welcoming committee when its my turn to go.
What do I mean by that?
I've heard beautiful things about life after death. Mostly my images are shaped by my Catholic upbringing. But there are other things too - shaped by shifting dreams. My friend Kenneth, who lost his brother-in-law and young nephew in a bad car accident, said that his mother so wracked by grief and injury from the same car accident, had a dream that her grandson was playing in a beautiful meadow full of green and flowers with many other children playing and running around. He looked well and told her not to worry, he was in a good place and he was happy. Wow - a meadow filled with flowers, full of happy children.
Well, whether it is a meadow, a palace with many rooms (so says the bible!) or cloudy terrain with angel harpists and choirs, whatever your image of life after may be, I believe in it. It's there waiting.
Being Catholic, we are always told that we should pray for those who have died and to remember them, because they too remember us and pray for us. And at the time of our death, they may be the ones to come welcome us. One memorable account of this is taken from Joan Hon's lovely book about the late Hon Sui Sen. Ms Hon (also a Catholic) was writing about the deathbed of her aunt, a gentle, loving woman from all accounts. This lady was dying and in the minutes before her death, there was an incident which seemed to indicate that she was greeted by the soul of her long-dead teacher/mentor whom she had loved and who had loved her dearly too. She passed away not long after.
Experiences closer to home are my own dreams of my kong-kong - a black and white dream of all of us on this windswept hill-top, far below us a sparkling sea. We (his whole family) were seated in ringed tiers of wooden pews. We could see kong-kong and while I can't remember the words or any conversation, I just got the feeling that he was alright now, at peace. This came years after his death - because he died when I was 5 - and I had this dream only a year or so ago. Mum also had dreams of granddad in church with her and then taking a bus with her, looking neat and well and telling her he was fine.
Of course there were all those that we learnt about purgatory, about why prayers are needful - the dead are still part of our family just as we are part of theirs. We're just in different places at the same time. Praying helps to connect us. We remember them this way, we think about them. And vice versa. And right up to our own death, as we go on to life after that, they will be right there, smiling and ready to greet us and bring us home.
I don't know how true this is or how far off I am from Catholic doctrine, but I read this somewhere and it always seemed nice for me to know that on Christmas Day 1000 souls are released from purgatory to join the angels in heaven. And who comes to greet them home? Mother Mary of course. Lovely image isn't it? I find this so comforting, especially now.
I have always believed that there is a better place after this earth. What comforts me is knowing that the people we love who have gone on are now there, or on their way there.
And I strongly believe in what I told Aunty P: that Marc is now with granddad and with Aunty Sam, who will surely look after him. We have to keep praying for him, knowing that one day, when its our turn to go, they will be right there waiting for us. And knowing this, how can we fear death?
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