Sensible tweens in love(not)

My eldest daughter, aged 11 shared a secret with me in the car today which led me to this post! It's top-secret but her 11 year old classmate apparently has a crush on this other 11 year old but they are shy, giggly and dewy- eyed and everything. Another bestie too has an admirer. But she feels sorry for her bestie as the poor boy aparently has mop hair. What's that? You know mum, the kind like you you have put a bowl on it? What about you?
No, mummy, no one is interested in me, and I'm not interested in any of the boys. They are so childish anyway. Remember I told you they rolled on the dance floor at prom and licked coke off the floor? Even in their mini-tuxes? Yes, no matter how smart they looked, they didn't act smart, so I am not into anyone of them. Alright then. Why, sweetie?
Well, first I have no time. I have dance lessons twice week, Enopi Math sessions, Mandarin, piano, Sunday school and now I have that role in the Drama production plus I am on the student council. I really don't have time, mum. Plus I have all that homework. So I say to her, well, you can always tell me about it if you like a boy, okay?
Okay, but the chances are slim. Besides, Mum, no one has the kind of energy you have! So, don't worry. I'm still your baby.
Phew...

Me, Myself and I for 24 hours!!!

(Musings on my solo flight from KL-HK 22 August 2011)
I am a mother of three. So,I am hardly ever, if ever, ALONE. On an everage academic/school year, I would have 100 students under my tutelage. So I am NEVER alone in school either. A 20 minute lunch break without a student popping in is a rarity. I am also a wife, daughter and sister. With an extended family larger than the A-team, and friends from all over the country and the world, (in real life, and on cyberspace), from all social circles, I hardly, if ever find myself on my own. My solitary, disciplined walks, usually taken on Saturday mornings up the hills afford me with 90 minutes of alone time- at best. Or a couple of precious hours at a beauty spa would constitute alone time for me. Twenty minutes by myself in the bath/shower before Junior 1, or 2 or 3, or ALL 3 waltz in( this open plan bathroom idea probbaly wasn't very well-thought out when we were designing our house),- either to chat, show me a painting, or a test score, a poem or just to make me to some inverse writing "I love you, cat, dog, Thomas" on the steamed up shower glass. So, you get my point. I am hardly, or ever alone. Solitude for me is a luxury. Solitude unencumbered is something that I am just no used to. Frankly, it's a little scary. But it's bracing. And a blessing.
But here I am , on a full-service(cheap sale) flight( nice) to HONG KONG, entirely on my own, no family, no girlfriends in tow. For someone who has (in the words or another friend) "a million friends & family" I can be totally stand-offish, not-chatty, unfriendly even when I am travelling on my own. I haven't chatted to anyone since hubby dropped me at Kl Sentral station this morning. I haven't started a conversation with my co-passenger. I don't want to talk to anyone. I have relished in the private moments that is me. Just happy being on my own, immersed in my thoughts, of the individual, and of what defines me.
I can look out of my window at the floating clouds in the cerulean sky and know for a fact that I am on hey, on my own! I can create poetry in my head, or make grand plans of our lives, wrapped up in my happy solitude, and cast worries away. It's a bit of a luxury undefined for this crazy mummy of 3 with a million things going on at home.
I know I am heading for Asia's most bustling and populous cosmopolitan cities, but I am sure I will find peace here. I have a purpose in Hong Kong that doesn't involve shopping or food( I can hear you laughing now)- wait for my next blog post! No,right not, let me enjoy my me time- for 24 HOURS+, before sister dearest arrives from Singapore and all consumeristic anarchy will break loose. I may go to the parks, the Teapot Museum, jog up the Peak, take a ferry to Lamma island, or just shut myself in my ladies' only floor in my hotel room and READ! WHO knows? I may master Dicken's take on utilitarianism when I am here, and finally complete Orhan Pamuk's tome- I am just celebrating being me, myself and I! It's truly liberating.
( though missing the little ones and the man terribly...)

My little haiku embodying how I feel:

Floating with the clouds
My thoughts meld- with love, sleep, life!
At peace with myself.

r
x

A birthday letter to Samantha on her 11th birthday

4th of July 2011
Our dearest firstborn Samantha,
Every year, I try to write your siblings and you a letter on your birthday, I know I have some unfinished ones stashed away in my drawer, ready to go into the memory box that you each have with you. This year, especially, Mummy would like to share with you some very important things/memories/events as your turn 11.
11 things actually.
Yes, I know, you are still 2 years short of being allowed to have a facebook account( you do have a tiger mother), and you are still practically the only child in your year group that doesn’t carry a mobile phone, and you don’t really bug me for either, so for that I am doubly proud of you.
Ever since you came into our lives 11 years ago today, you have made me, ‘your ole ma’, a whole new different person, a better person in all.
1. I became a parent, your mother, and that changed my life completely. Every day, since you were born, I am reminded about how blessed your dad and I are that we choose to have children. You, our firstborn, came in your own sweet time, after only 4 and a half hours of labour, only 4 days past your due date- minus any epidural, and with laughing gas that made only Daddy laugh,( and I finished a whole Bill Bryson book and even had a book discussion with Dr Woo in early labour)- you arrived as quite a whooper- 8 pounds 2 ounces and 52 cm long and I recall Dr. Woo saying to me, where did you hide her all these months? And you arrived on the 4th of July, which is why you are named Sam.
2. By 2 months, you understood that mummy HAD to return to work( very sadly) and you started sleeping through the night, waking up for a 6.30 am feed before I had to go to school then going back to sleep till 11.00am, so I didn’t feel too guilty about leaving you with Aunty Ruli. Those early months of rushing back at lunchtime, to nurse you and to check on you and to make sure you were okay will forever be etched in my memory. I think you were instrumental in starting Mummy on a multi-tasking route that would be taken to greater heights in the years to come. You understood that Mummy had to work, had private students to teach, and always, papers to mark, and you have always been an easy baby, taking long naps- sleeping in your car seat all the way on our numerous car trips to Penang and Singapore, and even on flights, you were so good that I could watch two movies from Perth to KL!
3. You MADE me the kind of mum who would make my own flash cards for you, and I miss those days when we were in your old room in our former house, doing flashcards with you while you sang, chatted, read and hugged, cuddled and loved.
4. By 20 months, you had decided on your own accord( and you are actually a quietly strong, resolute, dignified dragon) that you have had enough of Mummy’s milk, and in your OWN WORDS, declared, “Mummy, I have had enough nien nien, I am a big girl now!”- after gagging over my milk as a toddler!
5. When we lost your beloved grandmother when you were two and a half, I remember grieving and pregnant, in tears one night in your room, but you, ever strong and resolute and sensible, even at that age, determined to take care of me, running to me a whole box of tissues from the other room and patting me back until I fell asleep. ( I think Daddy had to work the night shift then).
6. When your baby sister was born 3 years later, you were and still are the perfect caring older sister. You helped us throw away dirty nappies and tissue paper, you would bring me clean flannels and nappies, and most of, you were such a sport when Belly Boo used to drink up your formula in one gulp! Seeing how you are with your siblings reveal to me the caring side of your nature.
7. Though you became a little shy in pre-school( Daddy and I were convinced that you lost your confidence after Grandma passed away as you were so close to her), you NEVER failed to try at every single thing that you do, even at Kumon Maths which you hated. You have made and kept some really good friends from Montessori years, and that’s a testament to what a great little friend you are.
8. And now, as you grow from a tween into a kinda mini teen already, although there are times we disagree with some issues, and there are times when there is awkwardness between us, as I know will be, as part and parcel of our relationship, I just want to let you know you MUST never forget that your Mother is ALWAYS right. ( Smiling….)
9. Ever since your first birthday, when we had that huge yummy chocolate NO. 1cake coated with enough M & Ms to give anyone diabetes, you brought Mummy a new dimension to birthday parties. Having celebrated 11 birthdays with you, and gone through many themes- from your Power puff craze days to Nemo, to that puppet show Daddy and I put up on your 4th birthday with a proper stage, to created a fairy garden for your fairy party, Mummy has become the pro at planning birthday parties, and sourcing for party packs, or making my own decorations complete with DIY special paper cups and plates. Mummy has never derived more joy than planning and organizing a birthday party for you, my sweet girl. ( and hence for your siblings too)
10. This year, especially, we have seen how much you have pushed yourself in all that you do in and out of school. And you have made us so proud of you. You went for House Captaincy even though you are not the sportiest of girlies and got it. You ran so fast in your cross country that you got into the top 10 for your girls’ category. But most of all, how you worked hard in Maths, which is not your strongest forte, but you worked diligently, and pushed yourself, and made sure that you got the grades. You have acquired a deeper sense of confidence and skills and have attained so many other achievements in dance, music and poetry and reading competitions. You make my heart swell with pride. But remember, the road ahead, in secondary school, is where the real tests lie- balancing your academics with your social and co-curricular activities and making sure that you remain that all-round global citizen but most of all, maintaining your true persona, and not have to cave in to peer pressure, and staying sensible.
11. And reason no 11, there should be an unending list, but really, you have defined me as a person. You ( and your siblings) are so much a part of every decision I make in my life, your Daddy and I do what we do best so we can give you the best, in terms of a strong family foundation, religious grounding, strong values and ethics, inner confidence and a strong awareness of the world around you.
Darling, this is your last year in primary school and already Mummy can feel my apron( well, metaphorically, since I don’t even come close to owning one), strings loosening already. I miss you baby smell, your chubby fingers, ( yes, they once were fat!), your dark dark eyes, so large and round when they stared at all the books we always read together, you coming to show me your art work after craft class, I miss holding you taking you for doctor’s appointments for your jabs and all. And I still look forward to your cuddles in bed every night!
On your birthday, darling, don’t forget to:
Love fully and care deeply.
Be kind and gentle, but firm when you have to be
Your prayers.
Think of others
Stay creative, be open to new ideas and change when you have to adapt.
Be loyal to your friends, but don’t lose sleep over a disloyal friend. Sometimes, human nature is complicated.
Eat your veggies, esp. broccoli, and never underestimate the power of an apple.
Remember, your family loves you to bits.
God Bless you, our darling little girl.

With all our love,
Mummy ( & Daddy)
xoxoxoxoxo

A Superior Chinese Mother Writes Back

Amy Chua & her two daughters Sophia and Lulu.

A Superior Chinese Mother Writes Back
There has been much uproar over a Wall Street Journal article by Amy Chua, a Yale professor cum author who shares her parenting methods and ideals in an article with an excerpt from her new book ”Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother “.

WJS article: Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior
Can a regimen of no playdates, no TV, no computer games and hours of music practice create happy kids? And what happens when they fight back?
Here is the link to her article http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704111504576059713528698754.html
(Please cut and paste link on to your browser)

I haven’t read her book as I doubt it will be available so quickly in Malaysia but from her article and from various other articles about parenting that has sprung up on blogsphere since her controversial article appeared yesterday, here is my response.


Dear Ms. Chua,

I have no doubt that you are well-respected in your field (Yale Professor of Law, nice house in Connecticut, acclaimed author) and that you’ve successfully brought up two shiny, highly-accomplished daughters using your slightly boot-camp Chinese method of parenting even though you have a gwei-lo American-writer husband (whom you say disagree with your parenting methods but he surely must be good at letting you wear the pants).

As a Chinese mother myself( doesn’t matter where you live- the Chinese diaspora has spread far and wide), and having been brought up by someone whom I thought was The DRAGON Chinese mother of all, I now think perhaps, she was quite harmless after all compared to you. Though your detractors have slammed you for your shocking methods of motivating your children, your style is, however, still food for thought(?), and may perhaps be effective for your two girls, and I did laugh at some of your anecdotes though some light-weights who have never come across Chinese people might even see you as brutal, callous, even abusive?

But I guess more than ever, in today’s increasingly competitive world, it is important to teach one's child the tenets of tenacity, resilience and to ‘never say die’!

It however, doesn’t not truly represent how Chinese mothers the world over bring their children up.

If what you quantified as qualities of a Chinese( or Asian) mother is to be believed, then I have failed miserably as a Chinese mother.

Here’s why:

1. Yes, I know it’s bad to praise mediocrity sometimes, but I sometimes resort to it. Because I have three children and the middle one tends to occasionally have some sort of complex, I sometimes, go out of my way to make her feel extra special- is that wrong?
( But in all seriousness, as an educator, I think we need to be more 'Chinese' and whip our generation of lackadaisical students into shape, to get them out of their iphone/pad/touch zombie-states into writing proper paragraphs, using the correct spelling and punctuating properly and not use sms-speak! That should always be a given.)

2. I took both my girls out of KUMON, the Japanese rote-learning method of doing Maths, after 6 months because I couldn’t be bothered to 'time' their super-mundane Math exercises and I don’t like rote and repetitive-learning myself. ( You have to always time the worksheets and once I had to write down “24 hours” for the time in which little I completed one of her addition worksheets. She was about 4. So I gave up)

3. I have enrolled them in numerous DRAMA workshops,where I have paid good money for, and they have been in plays and performances. Hours and hours of practice and 3 minutes of Little I playing the white rabbit was one of my proudest Mummy moments-(as the Alice the LEAD role had gone to the Drama facilitator’s DAUGHTER) and yeah, the other daughter was dancer no. 4 cum singer no. 2 and bloody good at it, sounding quite like Lea Salonga, if I may add.)

4. I do pay for their piano lessons, and though I chant ‘practice makes perfect’ like a million times, it falls on deaf ears, so I am happy if they practise for 20 minutes, sometimes, on the day the piano teacher is about to arrive!

5. I do emphasise that sports is important- like swimming and track and field and gymnastics. Oh dear! I praise my little girl for being a whiz at cartwheels and even for being able to do the hoopla hoop on her neck! She is amazingly good.

6. They get to have playdates and sleepovers!( I will one day tell you about a sleepover birthday party I hosted!) But I am not hot on computer games myself so they can only drool at other kids' Nintendos and XBoxes.

8.They do a lot of dance lessons, are excellent at them, and love them!

8. They don’t watch a lot of TV at all, but when they do, I even let them watch Glee!

Are there only 8 reasons?

Well, like everyone else who thinks Mother China is heading for world domination- I do make them take Mandarin lessons. Just in case. If that fails, they can always take their business to India and speak English there. They can say now “Gong Xi Fa Cai and Xia Xia” without sounding like an ABC and I do feel a little cheated paying the tutor by the hour but I blame myself for I only recently starting to speak Hokkien to them- they can understand me and the eldest tries to speak it but we are as banana as you can get, no matter which part of the world we may live in.

They DO, however, own stacks of workbooks, but I can’t say I have the time or the inclination to sit down with them to complete ALL the pages. So they sit pretty and gather a bit of dust.

So, an A- grade is bad. ( yeah, I do remember those days, when I was too afraid to show my Chinese mother my report card for any subjects below 90%. She wouldn’t BEAT me (not like some “Beat- Beat trigger happy” Chinese families I know), but the look of sheer disappointment that she gave me was enough to make me cower, in shame. But like you, I know she only wanted me to aim for the best and be the best, so I tried. I always did my best in what I loved to do- reading, writing, creating poetry, even completing a Masters in English Literature because kooky me loves literature. So do I blame my mother for not being Tiger enough? Perhaps not. But I still sometimes recoil from the sound of her sighing disappointment when I told her I was quitting private banking after 3 years for TEACHING. No, no, no Chinese mother in her right mind would like that.

Once, when I was about 8, I actually got into a playground fight. I wasn’t in it to begin with, but seeing two other girls head butting each other seemed like a cool thing, so I joined in, then word got around, from school mates to mums to ‘bas sekolah’ drivers to my CHINESE mother’s ears and boy, did I get into trouble!
I wasn’t even asked how I landed in the ‘fight’ that wasn’t even mine in the first place. I wasn’t given any chances to explain myself- for you know that, in Chinese household, the child is not allowed to speak because Confucius kind of said so. Anyway, I had to kneel for an hour against a wall and asked to repent for my silly behaviour. Then I was sent to bed. Without my dinner.

I learnt never to mess with my Chinese mother.

31 years later, now a mum of 3 myself, and a career mother to boot, I vowed not to be a Chinese mother myself. I vowed to be the coolest, hippest mum who would be able to tell that Justin Bieber isn’t a girl.

But stereotypes are there for a reason. And sometimes, no matter how concrete that vow to yourself is, it ain’t gonna change the fact that you DO become your mother. And in many ways, I have.

The Chinese mother methods/styles/ways of saying you can do better, the smacking, the sharp telling-offs, the 'do your Singapore Maths', the standing in the corner, the eat your broccoli bit, the don't leave any rice on your plate threat...

But above and beyond that, there is plenty of love, cuddles, bonding, scrapbooking together, uncountable precious, family holidays, plenty of treats & themed birthday parties, even a baby pedicure or two, a little TV down-time and lots of lovely quiet chats and family prayers and the sheer hard work pulling it all together.

Sleepovers? Yes, till they reach the magical age of 12. Then, I know for a fact that ‘sleepovers’ is just teenspeak for ‘dangerous binge drinking sessions’ so no way, Jose.

No Facebook, and no iphones, yet too.

I am sure there is that little bit of a Chinese mother in all of us!

But remember, not all of us are as privileged to be Chinese Yale law professors with daughters who play solo recitals at Carnegie Hall. For me, I’ll be plenty happy if my three children grow up to be well-balanced, confident, happy individuals and will thrive as tough-cookie global citizens! I don’t know how that might work out. No. 2 already told me that if she doesn’t ‘make it’ as an architect, she will become an actress.

Thanks for your time.

Now, I’m off to google-stalk a certain Hollywood actor that I am currently fancying- oh, am so indiscreet, and am such a bad influence to my own children. So, sue me.

Sincerely,
R

PS. You'll be pleased to know that I love my hip and sexy sixty-something Chinese mother to bits, for along the way, she has mellowed so much, she even watches American Idol, thinks Zac Efron is 'cute' plus she feeds my kids sweet treats!

A rare & simple pleasure

Walking my little boy to preschool

This morning, I derived such a simple, but rare pleasure from getting little T ready for preschool school, washing him up, and helping him brush his little shiny white teeth, watching him pick his clothes and packing his snack box and water bottle into his new Smiggle lunch box. I revere and appreciate such special moments as I don’t get to do this everyday.

I am a working mum, and I leave home before he even wakes up!

He had been a little reticent about returning to school after his 5 week whirlwind break- in fact when we were chatting about ‘going back to school’ and telling his teachers stuff about his exciting holiday adventures in Hobbitland, he had turned to me in all seriousness and said “I am not going back to school!”

So, it was with great relief that he didn’t kick up a fuss, and was happy to walk up the street to the end of the road to the lovely corner white house where he gets to spend 3 and a half hours of his day either fending off G from ‘snatching’ his biscuits, stacking blocks and solving puzzles, deciphering his phonics or interacting with the other kids. As for the real learning and street cred, he gets it from his two wonderful big sisters.

This picture illustrates what it felt like for me taking my precious little boy to preschool. Ahhh, such simple, happy joys of life. A blessing indeed.

Love,
R

Birthdays

Birthdays

For as long as I remember, compared to my two younger sisters, I have always had a blast on my birthday. First of all, it always falls on a holiday. Always, no matter which part of the world I am in. My second sister’s birthday is on April the 1st so she gets a different kind of attention with lots of trickery and tomfoolery involved. (We were wicked!) When baby sis was born 7 years after, her June 23rd birthday was proclaimed by Mum to be the most special birthdate in the universe, so she will never grow up to have a complex on competitive birthdates! Poor sis!

But to me, the 1st of January for a birthday ain’t all that grand, sometimes. The good things were that I always had a birthday cake as it always fell on a public holiday when my career teacher mum didn’t have to go to work, and I had more birthday parties or pressies and red eggs and longevity noodles than the other two hence my love affairs with soirees and such (but my lovely sisters now trump me be earning mega Singapore bucks so life is always fair, methinks :) and they get to escape the ludicrous farce of Malaysian political satires on a daily basis!)

But I remember the first of January as also being the date, as I grew older, when friends are sometimes to drunk to remember to wish me a Happy Birthday or then boyfriends, (and now husband) feels intense double pressures of having to make the day extra special for me. Poor guy(s). And sometimes, I get a triple greeting with Christmas bundled in too.

Thanks to Mark Zuckerberg, a socially-inept IT wunderkinder, my birthday now gets proclaimed for the world , or at least for my 400-ish friends on Facebook to see. So I get a tonne of instant birthday wishes on my ‘wall’. Thanks also to the world of texting and free apps like Whats App, my iphone receives all these exciting beeps announcing yet another message wishing me Happy Birthday along with Happy New Year- a very convenient double whammy.

As technology surges forward, old-fashioned birthday cards have, alas dwindled. My mum, bless her, still has a box of birthday cards in her closet at home, and in it, I am sure contains one very special card dated January 1, 1973 when my Aunt Lillian in Sydney sent me one with a picture of a yellow number one and some little ducklings & a little girl- of the vintage type- wishing her then very little and only niece a Happy 1st Birthday. I used to look at that card over and over again through many rites of passage. 38 plus 1 birthdays later, I am still that old-fashioned little girl who loves her birthday cards and has never thrown a single one away.

Here’s to birthdays! Happy New Year 2011!

Love,
R

PS. I found this picture on google and it is almost like the one my Tua Ee sent me from Sydney dated 1st of January, 1973! Love you!