Self-body image and the post- millennial teen

Of millennial excess and obsession with self- body image...

"To be beautiful means to be yourself. You don't need to be accepted by others. You need to accept yourself."

Thich Nhat Hanh

Growing up in the eighties, I was always called chicken legs or pancake face for my high wide cheek bones. Being from Penang and of part-Sumatran Peranakan blood, I was never the quintessentially fair maiden of Chinese bloodline, who plasters Hazeline Snow on her face to become even that much fairer to exude the stereotypical look of fairness and beauty.

My teen years were a blur of poetry writing, essay perfecting, Sweet Dreams reading, Scrabble-playing and plenty of books, playing tricks on teachers and gossiping about boys that didn’t really exist in our all-girls school and hiding myself behind the comfort of uber thick and uncool photo-gray glasses.

Did it affect my self- esteem? Surprisingly no!

Was I even aware that I was entitled to one? Perhaps not.

I was born very boyish looking, with fairly large (for a Chinese) dark eyes with double eye-lids and features that apparently weren’t terrible Chinese and a large nose with high cheek bones.

As my adolescent best mates grew breasts, mine probably stopped when I was 14 and a half, and it has stayed that way since. With my narrow hips, I was often also called 'no waist' by family members.

Hence, angular, awkward, chicken-legged and dark, I wasn’t exactly anyone’s dream teen girlfriend material, not to hetero- boys that didn’t exist nor the lesbian girls in my Convent school.

Instead, I grew and nurtured my inner Ninja-of feminist traits of confidence and intellectual and emotional strength, and acquired a self-esteem that suffered no fools.

In 6th form, I almost caused a scandal by dating the handsome and most coveted Head-boy, a boy of mixed parentage, Bollywood eye candy of sorts. I quickly discovered that looks aren't everything.

In summer school in Hawaii, I was smitten by a blonde long -haired hippie poet, who introduced me to Jack Kerouac and Milan Kundera, my summer romance, which I thought could pass off as Brad Pitt and he thought my almost purple hair was too beautiful for words.

I had my fair share of boyfriends until I met my better half, with his curly hair and Tin Tin t-shirts and the gentlest, kindest, funniest man in the world, who still rocks my world after 18 years together.

Did I let my body image and pop culture affect my crucial life decisions?

Luckily not.

For I was fortunate enough to be shielded from feeling shite about myself from looking at fashion or lifestyle teen magazines which celebrated sexy bikini- clad models, waif thin, smooth ivory skin, yet with boobs spilling out like no tomorrow. I was cocooned from all media of self-loathing.

-I didn’t have internet websites like Pro -ANA sites giving me thinspiration, no thank you.

-I didn’t have photo-shopped, air- brushed models with 6 -pecs and skinny arms jumping out at me to tell me that I was fat, ugly, gangly, uncoordinated , flat-chested, short.

-I didn’t have K-pop stars who look like fake double- lidded clones, and post -plastic surgery success stories staring at me at tell me that I needed my eye lids fixed, or my bulbous nose streamlined or needed a tummy tuck.

I remembered Karen Carpenter dying of self- inflicted starvation and my no nonsense mother telling me how tragic, silly and unnecessary that was. And I believe her till this day.

So, I never had the propensity starve myself( for I was taught to love food and to enjoy it or go hungry and offend my ancestors), or have the urge to throw up, or to be of one particular skinny, cool, gorgeous look. I did have a hideous Diana Ross perm once and carrot jeans and big T shirts and large loop earrings.

Now, I am so aware, so alarmed and SO TERRIBLE SADDENED, by young girls self- harming or starving themselves to look a certain part or to grab the attention of somebody or create a drama or some show because of popular culture and in internet. Too many, too soon.

I know every child, every teen operates differently.

Kids these days have too much. They roll in a world of excess. Often the fault of indulgent parents who believe they are providing the best. These excesses of wealth, time, social media, have become a paradox of what is really wrong in our society today.

The need to carve the perfect image for social media, the pleas for help, the medium in which young children can vulnerably subject themselves to these threats; that never existed during my years of being an adolescent. From a young age, they have it ingrained in them that they need to look a certain part- fair, light-haired, sharp features, thin. Everything being so instant and constant-Twitter, Instagram, Snapshot.

Pecs , muscles and working- out have become de rigueur lingo for these modern adolescents.

They have so much yet can take so little. With all the excesses, the fragility within seems to have gone on overdrive.

The irony.

Admittedly, on the cusp of turning 42, I’m still not too keen about my seemingly permanent dark eye circles but I know that my slight mummy tummy is a testimony and a souvenir from having given birth naturally to three healthy, delightful, mindful children who I am fiercely and fearlessly protecting from the excesses of self- loathing, self -harm and depression.

I’m blessed that my husband thinks my chicken legs are sexy and that he loves my face, freckles, crooked teeth and all. Even my small boobs, spots of grey hair and all.

So, mothers, love your bodies so your daughters and sons will love them too. We are so guilty of sometimes proclaiming that we feel bloated or fat or have a bad hair day, and surely we are entitled to that, we think, but think of your child, your mentee, your niece, your charge, all listening to those words of self- doubt which may turn into little seeds of self- loathing or a pattern for life-long self-criticism.

We all want happy, healthy, mindful children and we hope we are raising them right. So every day, my kids know that they are lovely, thoughtful, generous, gentle, strong, loving, appreciative, helpful, genuine and kind instead of beautiful, pretty, stunning, slim, or handsome( though my little prince is a self-professed praise junkie).

And oh yes, they have survived many stereotypical situations to do with self-image:

My eldest girl has been classed too black to be Chinese by sales-women in Hong Kong and in KL.

( I tell them I had several husbands, or sometimes I tell them we have Hawaiian blood),

My second daughter gets told she has very Asian eyes and could be Japanese( well did I tell you about the dalliance our fore -mother had with the Emperor?)

Our son gets told he’s very good looking all the time.

( I just tell him not to let it get into his head and no conceit is allowed!)

As for staying fit and healthy, though they are aware of their mum cutting down carbs at dinner time, our family has a fond, fundamental and familial love for cooking and food that they know that not eating is not an option and keeping healthy is. We love it that our three children have healthy, happy appetites and are game for all kinds of cuisine.

Oh, how did we survive body image issues in the 80s? I guess we did survive it all through the heck and lack of it all.

We were lucky not to have the internet. The threatening evil portal where you can be made to feel inadequate, small and ugly. The TV shows of the time did not make me want to do crazy things to myself. I wanted to shoot JR like everyone else, but not myself.

Debbie Gibson and Tiffany just made me want to be wholesome and good.

Unless you are always and constantly keeping your teens in check and that they are lucky enough to have healthy, encouraging peers, or have build a really warm and open relationship with them, it pays to check on the websites and chatrooms that they are on, on their laptops, on their smart phones and in their heads. It's also important to know their friends.

I say this an educator of many teens, and as a self-professed life coach to many students, who in fact gave me that title a few years ago, and as a mother to a teenager, a tween and a 6 year old.

It only takes a tiny nudge before any negative impact on self -body image can spiral completely out of control. Though we are lucky now to have access to psychologists and hospitals which can offer professional help to look after these issues, staying safe is better than sorry.

Love, love, love your children and pray that words like anorexia, bulimia, depression, self-harm and self-loathing are Greek words in your family’s diction.

Every family is different, I know.

Love thyself first and always, and always and forever, keep your children in your circle of faith, hope and love.

---R Dec 10 2013

10 LIFE LESSONS FOR MY DAUGHTER ON HER 13TH BIRTHDAY

Happy 13th Birthday, my darling first born

My dearest S,

As you turn 13, here are some thoughts from your Moops.

Not a day goes by without me reminiscing about what a cute baby you were to us, how you were born straight-laced, if ever there was a by-the-book new -born all at 8 pounds three ounces. Although we had a few 3.00 am Cranberries sing-along and cuddling- infused nights with you, you were MOSTLY a very easy and non-colicky baby. At two months, I would give you a 6.30am feed and go to work and you’d sleep till 11am and have the bottle that I expressed for you. And when I got home at 2.30; it was 2.30 clock out those days, you were ready for your next feed so it made leaving you for work much much easier to handle for a guilty working mum. At 4 months, you spat out the mashed papaya that I let you try, and at 6 months you did the same with banana and you NEVER ate these two fruits ever again. You olfactory senses must be so wired that you would reject my green apple breath kisses and tell me that you only LIKE red apples and I could only kiss you if I had eaten RED apples. When I took wee one year old you home on my own after your first Australian holiday by myself on the plane, you were so easy-going that I could watch 2 in-flight movies and you mostly just flipped through your books or played with your toy- Gino the giraffe. At Gymboree, you did not like the clown but you did all the right things at the right age, and are still pretty much the same now. At 3, you had a passion for animated Robin Hood and would watch it over and over and over again. Road trips with you to Penang and Singapore were a breeze. You would fall asleep the minute you got strapped onto your car seat and would only wake up when we arrived at our destination! That’s how you became a travelling nomad at such a tender age!

When you little sister was born, you embraced her with all your heart and soul and have been such a good sister to her ever since and for that I am so grateful for the immense bond you both share. With your little bro, you are always the sensible, sometimes bossy big sister but are well-adored by him.

Though you refused most fruits that were served to you, you LOVED any form of medicine, which made us nickname you ‘The Druggie’, and which made us compare you to Belly Boo who would spit out her medicine and who could not even be force-fed!

Now, you’re a tall, lanky 13 year old, albeit a bit too lean of a young lady with a ferocious appetite for sushi and steaks, with spectacular tresses; very serious about your studies and school achievements( still amazed at how you look at success criteria ladders and complete all your homework earnestly with full discipline without being told to), an accomplished ballet and tap dancer, debater, pianist, thespian of sorts, student volunteer and student council member and so son. MY darling daughter!

As you turn 13, here are 10 life lessons that I would like to share with you that you must never forget!

ON FAMILY Always remember that no matter how many friends you have, blood is always thicker than water. Family matters above all else. Honour your grandparents. Respect your parents at ALL times. Don’t give them lip for they always have your back and try not to hurt them with your words or actions. No matter what, family always comes through for you and always love your siblings like no other. Don’t ever be envious of your siblings for you three are all loved immensely and are different but remember that what you think they have and what you think you lack may not be the same thing so always be happy for them and love them unconditionally. Be generous with them, spend time with them, talk to them; be close, stay close! Organise family gatherings and be a thread!

ON FRIENDSHIP I see you now, and your close circle of lovely good friends who love you mostly for you, your laughter, your crazy jokes and your kind, sweet ways. But like all girls, there may be sometimes a tiny element of envy, of girls not saying or thinking nice things of you, or of girls gossiping about you. You will have many supporters and loyalists; and you may have some detractors sometimes. You will always know who your true friends are, so honour them and be loyal to them as they have been loyal to you. Don’t talk about them behind their backs and if there is anything negative that needs saying, say it to their faces in a gentle way. Don’t ever back bite. And stay away from taking sides. Remember your girlfriends are important and will be there for you when you are sad, lost or misunderstood.

ON SHOPPING & STYLE OH YES, girl, you were born into the right family with the right kind of Mummy who lets you indulge in your love for clothes, bags and shoes. We’re women, girly girls and why not? If the dress fits, buy it, if it makes you look good, get it. But only if you can pay for it yourself. In cash. BUT NEVER ever go into debt shopping; don’t borrow and never hoard. ONLY BUY WHAT YOU CAN AFFORD! Fashion comes and goes and sometimes, what was fashionable 12 years ago may come back, who knows? Buy wisely! Don’t always go for cheap and cheerful and invest in ONE BESPOKE very good pair of shoes, a stylish little black dress and A VERY NICE handbag. Classic pieces last a mile though dispensable fashion may be fun. Accessorise but NOT too much. Keep your make up subtle. Sorry your Mummy was not born to do eye make- up and is still not very good at it. But you already have beautiful eyes and you don’t need too much makeup to look good, for you are beautiful au naturel. Don’t become too self-conscious and LOVE LOVE LOVE yourself! Smile with your teeth and OWN your style!

ON BEAUTY Beauty is the eye of the beholder. We love you soooo much and we think you are beautiful. And you are. But don’t confuse beauty with vanity. It’s great to look good but beauty from the inside transcends everything else. Smile genuinely. Use kind words. Be generous, be sincere and always be good to people. But never be a pushover. Speak up and always protect yourself. Love your friends and family for their inner beauty. Beauty can be found in good deeds, genuine friendships, a pat on the back, a kind word. That’s karma in beauty. Glossy, air-brushed beauty is impermanent and superficial. Don’t fall for that kind of superficiality. But don’t let yourself go either. Dress up, if you must though it’s much better to be GOOD INSIDE! And in the words of Baz, WEAR SUNSCREEN!

ON LIFE in general Like any paradox, life is as beautiful as it is is hard. School will get harder, friendships may get complicated. Your relationship with your parents and siblings may change. Things many not go the way you want it to go. You will start to find piano a chore if you haven’t already. You may love Science and find it like water on duck’s back more than English. You may suddenly be interested in poetry or current affairs, OR God forbid K-Pop! (But thank heavens you were born so sensible that you didn’t even have a Justin Bieber or a One Direction phase, so I’m, just waiting with bated breath for the Goth phase!) DON’T sweat over the small things. Study hard, work harder. DREAM BIG! Never under-estimate the power of a sound education and your network of friends. Travel. Reflect! Breathe deeply. Work hard, be honest, play hard, STAY HEALTHY- eat well and exercise, sleep sufficiently and rest loads and remember that every day is the best day of your life. Don’t waste it on negative thoughts. Keep yourself busy with meaningful activities. Do charity, reach out and give, give, give. Innovate. Laugh a few times a day! BE HAPPY!

ON TECHNOLOGY The world does not owe you an S4 or a Iphone5. You don’t have to own one because your peers have one or the other, or both. You’re lucky to have a roof over your head, and a laptop that has a battery that runs out the moment you unplug it and your mother’s old iphone. No, it’s not because your parents didn’t have their first clunky mobile phones until they were in their 20s and that they don’t actually own smart phones till very recently or that they can’t afford to buy you one. Just because there are crazy people( like your mum) twitting, facebooking and instagramming everywhere, you don’t have to be like them. You have access to the family ipad, imac, kindle and your dad’s Samsung phone and frankly, that’s plenty. Yes, I know it’s cool to own the latest technological gadgets but I firmly do not believe in handing it out to you on a silver platter. As quickly as these gadgets become de regueur, they fade into obsolete-ism sooner!

ON BOYS! Oh yes! I remember you laughing at me when I asked you about boys 18 months ago but now that I know that there are boys who heart you, it’s sent your daddy off the rails and Mummy is now on the look out on the school corridors! Poor, poor boys! They will like you, they will act sincere, interesting, silly, goofy or awkward. They are boys. You need to separate the boys from men. Enjoy the puppy crushes but don’t take them seriously. I once had a crush on a boy on my bus whom I though looked like Ralph Macchio and even spying on him made me weak. I chanced upon him on Facebook lately. And he certainly hasn’t aged like a Karate Kid should, so, while young crushes and boy attention are flattering, concentrate on the bigger things in life- like the famine in Africa, the labouring children in Pakistan or the dying pygmy elephants in Borneo. And don’t waste your first kiss on someone lame! Frankly, though, first kisses are over-rated; for Mummy doesn’t even remember her first or with who? Oh dear!

ON SEX Yes, I will talk to you about sex even though I am an Asian mother, and it is mostly not a done thing but I will buck the trend. You are only 13 and there will be hopefully a few many many MANY MANY MANY MANY MANY MANY MANY good years to go before you have to make a decision about sex. And everything that comes with it. This is more serious than a FIRST KISS. As your mum, and a fellow female, I want you to know that there are always options for you. Abstinence is an option. (Haha. I tried, didn’t I?) But should the decision have to come, you can always talk to me, your mummy about it. Fat chance, I hear you saying. Keep yourself safe and protected. Know that you must be loved and respected before you even cross that line with any boy. For any boy/men to like you, respect you for who you are, you must respect and love yourself first. That is the fundamental rule. For it to actually happen, it must be worth it. And it has to be worth it with someone meaningful. So experimentation is really a non-option. Nor is promiscuity. DON’T ever feel pressured by your peers. Respect your body, all aspects of it- whether your have big breasts, small hips good hair, smooth skin of not, it doesn’t matter. Love yourself and make sure you are loved before venturing into this zone. And always be careful and protected. And carry your rosary with you at all times! (What! Huh? Mum?)

ON LOVE Oh the clichés, like you’ll be head over heels, palms sweating, hearts beating…. I wish you love, of the splendoured kind. You will fall in love more than once; and sometimes you may even not be in love until later, as love can grow from LIKING A LOT and falling in love can be renewed year upon year. I do wish that you will find the kind of GOOD LOVE that your dad and I have found with each other. Cherish it, preserve it, work at it. Love is tough, love can slip easily away as it comes. Love comes with pure, unadulterated heart(hard)work. And when you do fall in love, it will be the most beautiful thing on earth but keeping that love will be even more precious, my darling.

ON FAITH

We may not be the most God-fearing family but we are believers. We believe that He lives in us and that in prayer, there is always faith. Always remember the teachings of the Bible in what you do and in what you plan to do for the rest of your life. When you are in doubt, He is there to lift you up. When you are happy, he is rejoicing with you. Never forget the power of prayer and never forsake the nighty prayer ritual that we have. Don’t let non- believers convince you that their faithlessness is more superior than yours. You can agree to be different but you don’t have to agree with them. There will be days when you will feel less faithful than others. Those are the days when He actually has you on his shoulders. You will find your way back into the Light and it will be alright again.

So, my darling born on the 4th of July babe, on your momentous 13th birthday, I wish you all these 10 wonderful things. I wish that your life ahead will be abundantly blessed with all the best things in life. I wish you good health and happy days. Even at your rare sleepiest grumpiest, you will always be my baby, and I’ll always be your mummy. I love you all the way to the moon and back and all over again.

Happy Birthday, Sammy Doll!

All my love always,

Mummity Moops xxx

Love a Mom who Works

Love a Mom who works- inspired by Date a Girl who Reads

http://littlemissdorkette.tumblr.com/post/3118512524/date-a-girl-who-reads-by-rosemarie-urquico

Love a Mom who works, for she will be the best multi-tasker ever on the planet; she can drive, file her nails, check the news and text while admonishing you from the driver’s seat for not sharing your popcorn with your sister all at the same time. She would never feel guilty buying you expensive gifts with money she has earned herself and if she thinks you deserve it, she will take you for the nicest of treats and pamper sessions.

My Mother's Day 2012 breakfast presented by my little man a day earlier as he didn't want to do it when everybody else did!

Love a Mom who works, for even though she may not cook very often, when she does, she makes the meals so special that it feels like you’re eating at a Michelin- star restaurant, and meals that you otherwise would only eat in fancy restaurants like crostini or hor d'oeuvres in tiny plates which you would never complain are too bland, oily or too salty or boring.

Love a Mom who works, for her heart is always in the right place, though highly-strung, her mental health is never in doubt as she is too busy hurtling down the superhighway of deadlines and meetings, to have time to over-analyse herself or you, or get depressed, or think if she looks too fat in this suit or if her heels give her cankles. She just gets on with it because she has to! >

Love a Mom who works, for all the hours that she spends at work means that the hours she spends with you are extra special and a million times more meaningful than just taxi-mummying and helicopter mothering or plain nagging. Believe her when she tells you that you are her angel and breathe of fresh air after the many harried hours of work.

And that also means when she does ferry you around, it’s a novelty and treat it like riding in a limousine! Love a Mom who works, for even though she can’t be at home, she has the ability to sense, to knows and see what you are up to, for there is Skype, CCTVs and Facetime and a mother’s intuition sometimes all at the same time.

Love a Mom who works for she appreciates you more than anything in the world, and know how heart-wrenching it was for her to return to work after 2.2 or 6 months of maternity leave so appreciate her more. So she will squeeze you with the tightest hugs and warmest kisses for she feels guilty working but KNOWS that she’s a better mother for it.

Love a Mom who works for her mind is constantly active, and filled with knowledge and ideas that are all around her. Feel energized by the vibes she brings home, and give her a massage or a rub down to let her know she’s loved. And when she's feeling low, tell her that tomorrow will be a better day, and it usually is!

Loves a mom who works, for the hours and months she spent trying to breastfeed you fully, using any inconceivable space/cupboard/washroom/closet to express her milk for you so you still get the best nutrients for you means she would DO anything short of climbing Mt Everest for you in your life-time.

Love a Mom who works more for she would have just offended all the Moms who don’t with this post, for which she wishes she will be forgiven, for that is not her intention at all, for she respects, envies and admires them for their 101% they give to mothering. And so she salutes them all!

Love a Mom who works, because she sometimes has to, but that doesn’t make her any less of a mother! Better still love a mum who reads….

Happy Mother’s Day, to all mums, who work and who don’t!:)

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...

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

Mother's Day

It's before 5.00 on Mothering Sunday and our entire household is awake. We got up early to bid farewell to dear Normie. It was an emotional goodbye on many levels. The girls, especially our second one will miss her dearly. Normie will miss our little boy's good morning scent. Even Sparky gave her his paws to say good-bye!

I know is seems weird that this woman, who is nanny and housemaid to us have become such a fixture, an appendage of our family, an attachment not only to my children but to myself to. We love her to bits. We are blessed indeed and we wish her a safe and wonderful home leave.(And hopes she returns the same!)

On this day that salutes and celebrates mothers, I reflect now on my own journey as one.

I think all the cliches in the world have described what it feels to be a mum, the you'll never feel the same again, it will change your life, you'll fall in love with your children over and over again, etc but I shan't go down the same path.

I chose to have children because I wanted them. Simple. And I have been very blessed with all my three. Even luckier, I have found in my love, the man who wanted them as much as I do, and through some lucky stroke of fate, as though it has been assigned to us, we have have three lovely, good and kind children. He is an amazing Dad which makes me even more blessed! We adore them, and yes, we work very hard at giving them the best we can, but mostly, we love them and they know it as we say it to them and show then every day( at least a few times).

I am also the least fussy mum I know. You won't find usually baby wipes in my handbag, but you'll always find a book! Truly. It's not that I am an irresponsible, unhygienic, careless kinda of mum but I think there are more worrying things about raising a child than to sanitise them all the time.

So they travel with me A LOT. In fact, I was rueing the fact that when I was expecting little T, the airlines won't let me book his tickets yet and wanted some kind of proof of his existence! Hey, isn't a round belly evidence enough???

They have been taken to all kinds of places from lovely kids-friendly resorts to crowded markets, have eaten street food, have been breastfed in public, have had their diapers changed on tables and floors, and all that. I am terrible!

At the same time, the girls have gone with me to a children's home we support in Taman Desa, and they have donated their toys, books and clothes to the children and have seen how the other side lives.

We are the kind of parents who don't worry about their routines being interrupted, and as such, they adapt easily to all kinds of social situations.

I think a little interrupted routine is actually good for kids- it makes them less fussy and more adaptable to all kinds of surroundings and are chilled-out kids. And I let them jump on hotel beds all they want and join them too!

Of course when we travel, we think of the kids' interests at heart, but they have learnt that it's fun to go to museums and other places that Mummy and Daddy like too.
I am adventurous with them regarding food and constantly drum it into their heads that they should be to. So cold noodles, funny fish egg stuff( tobiko and ebiko) and various seafood and all are loved by my kids. We nearly fainted when we asked them what their ultimate favourite foods are- one said 'caviar'( of the Japanese variety) and the other declared 'birdsnest soup' and Little T said 'avocado on toast'. They also love their charkoay teow and wantan mee of course. Their perennial favourite? Daddy's spag bol and Nanna's home cooking.

I may be relaxed about not over-sanitising and I take them on holidays a lot to train them to be adaptable global citizens, and we pray a lot of a family, but I am also a very strict disciplinarian mum.

I use the two-option method often. And it usually works.

" You will put the lolly pop back in the fridge now or stand in the corner/stand outside the front door."

"You can play one game on my iphone or none at all."

" You will practise your piano now or pull out the weeds in the garden.'

"You will each write me a story/or do your Maths when I am in the market or you will not watch Glee again."

"You can choose 3 books each and not get your allowance for the month."

You will learn Mandarin or lose out to billions of native Mandarin speakers in the future.! (says this Mum whose Mandarin is only passable)

So, call me a Nazi, or a plain typical Chinese mum, it works. They know how to hold their own in public, and so far, in my ten years as a mum, I think there has only been a couple of public tantrums, both of which I quashed almost immediately.

They are indeed good children, and I am blessed. As someone once said, life is a tangle of delicious knots on your hair and like most mums, mine is kind of like that.

The best present a mother can receive is when she hears from strangers and people she hardly knows that her children are lovely, well-behaved, polite and gracious. That makes me feel like I've done something right, and I hope it holds its stead as they carry through to their yet to come turbulent teenage years. ( Though a little naughty is good sometimes for it shows character!)

And I will say that all the mum cliches hold water, but let's not forget the women we WERE (and ARE), before we became mums, for if we let that slide, I think it would make us lesser mums, at least that's what I think.

Happy Mother's Day, my fellow comrades!
Salut! For all the unconditional love you give your children!

And S, I and T my beloved sweethearts, I'll always be your mummy and you'll always be my babies!

Right now, I will climb back into bed as who knows, I might just get breakfast served in bed!

A BIRTHDAY LETTER TO MY DAUGHTER

A Birthday Letter to my Daughter on April 11th 2010

My dearest darling I,

As you turn seven today, you probably don’t realize what an extraordinary influence you have had on the lives around you. On your 7th birthday, my darling, here is Mummy (& Daddy) wishing you life's most wondrous blessings, and our greatest love.

Your arrival into this world on April 11th 2003 at 2.02am was momentous and joyous to us in every way. After three false labours which included an overnight hospital stay where Daddy paid the Shangri-La rate to sleep on Gleneagle’s uncomfortable labour room chairs, you finally made your entry into this world quite easily as Mummy watched on CNN the Allied tanks barrage their way into Baghdad, claiming victory over oil, and as SARS waged its furor onto the world. Those were the first salient memories of your birth, my darling.

With violence and a health scare scourging the world, Mummy wondered even more than ever, how to bring you up in this ever increasing perilous world around us. But as ever, you are a little feisty fighter and has always been. And we, especially Mummy, has always been gentle and patient with you.

Your big che-che S embraced you immediately with open arms and the inseparable bond between you both have been forged ever since. The mantra that Mummy constant chants to you two girls has always been “to love each other like there is no one else.” So in the last seven years I have seen how you two darlings have loved, bicker(sometimes), love some more, share, plot, emulate each other, encourage one another, sometimes tiff but being always kind and loving to one another. That has been the most endearing things to see as your Mummy.

Little Belly Boo, as you’re often called, you don’t know how much you’re loved and adored. When your little bro came along, Mummy was worried that you might feel a little left out, being the middle of three. But you know what. I don’t have to worry too much. As I have told you, you are my sandwich ham- the middle part of the sandwich. So without you, there will be no sandwich! Yes, che che and di di are the slices of bread, but always remember that the filling of the sandwich is what makes a sandwich. So I know you gleefully and secretly love your extra nick-name- Hammie, for you are all that and more to me!

Being a bit of a PR pro, you always know how to make Mummy feel better, especially when you are in a ‘I want to please you’ mood. You ever smiley face and bright disposition always bring light to us all, even when mummy feels a little tired and down. I love your little massages and pampering, you notes of affirmation left under my pillow, and mostly your hugs and kisses.

So on your birthday, I want to give you the best present- that you are always allowed to always be yourself. You can be a little scared of night boogeys and strangers, you can dislike practising the piano, or dread your Mandarin lessons, you can do cartwheels and write whimsy poems all you want, you can have paint your nails on your birthday, watch a little bit of Glee, even, so long as you are healthy, happy and smiley, you make Daddy and I feel on top of the world!

Here’s Mummy saying to you, be yourself and find peace wherever you are. When you have that, it will be the best birthday gift you can give yourself.

Happy Birthday, my darling. God Bless you always.


All my love always,
Mummy
xoxoxo

THE HONESTY OF CHILDREN

The Honesty of Children

A Light Bite on Appropriate Fashion

This morning when I drove my little I to her ballet exam, I told her she looked very cute in her bun. I expected her to say, “Thank you Mummy” as she would say when complimented but her response was short, brutal, honest and almost made me drive up the kerb!
“I look bald, Mummy!” I laughed out loud and insisted “No, darling, you look really cute!” and then thought about it and then looked at her again through new eyes via the rear view mirror and tried to see her through her own eyes, of a little girl one day shy of her 7th birthday. Little I, unlike big che- che S, has very, very fine hair. She has known from a young age that her mane would never be the same as her sister’s Rapunzel-like made who often needed a mega turbo hair dryer to dry. So when I’s hair was carefully combed into a tight bun for her ballet exam, she did feel a little bald. But to her Mummy, she was one cute, adorable little bunny and would always be and her pixie-like cuteness and tres petite manners are her through and through and we wouldn’t have it any other way!

Children can always be counted on to be your most honest critics. No holds barred too. Once, I attempted this new funky look of wearing a mini skirt over a pair of tights. My darling girls were quick to scream “NO”, in unison. “Mummy, you look funny, and you’re not so young anymore!” was the general opinion! That gave me giggles and I took a hard look at myself in the mirror. Yes, though dearest hubby always loved to see my legs(whoops-TMI), I do have to consider that I am not longer 18 or 28, but 2 years short of the big 40. Hence, these mini skirts on tights biz ain’t gonna work no more, Jose!

My girls are my best fashion critics too, when they tell me to my face that I’ve had too much makeup on my face, literally. Actually, I am not a huge make-up person. My normal repertoire is moisteriser, sun-block, light foundation and a dust of powder and maybe some blusher and a neutral-coloured lipstick, usually applied when the light is red.

So, on occasion, like on that hot & humid day in Singapore at Universal Studios I had applied more sunblock than usual and a thicker layer of foundation, and a redder lipstick, their verdict was “Mummy no, you look like Korean actress, Not nice!” I had to quickly tissue my face and tone my ‘look’ down!

Don’t get me wrong, my darling daughters really love me and are not at all like the Kardashian sisters (heavens, NO!) and just love their Mummy looking natural, good and pretty. Didn’t we all at some point wished our Mums were all Audrey Hepburns or Jackie Os and would love for them to dress up glamorously and stylishly and be the prettiest mum at school parent teacher meetings? I sure did! (and my Mummy in her maxis and long legs was quite a stunner in her own way despite her thick glasses! :)

Little I once asked me, not long after I have just delivered little T, why I always only wore my glasses all the time, lounged in Daddy’s baggy tshirts) which I hardly ever do as I am NEVER a baggy t-shirt person), and did not put on earrings on anymore?? I think she really wanted to say was, “Mummy, please get your act together!” Pretty or at least presentable mommies are nicer to look at.

No matter what we try to say and do and as shallow as it sounds, in today’s world appearances or the illusion of appearances do matter. A witty and sharp Scottish colleague once said, “a celebrity’s job is to look good, while we teachers have to teach, and to look good on the side, too!” Ha ha!

So, I thank my darling daughters for being my harshest critics. It’s not about appeasing the men or yourself, but rather your own most honest critics, your own girls! For if they approve, then nothing can go wrong, on this runway of life.

P.S. They’ve taught their little brother well too. Last week he said to me “Nice dress, Mummy!”

Home is where the heart is.

Playtime


There is something soothing about being at home, having your three children with you, hearing them playing together. My children, despite sometimes possessing a social calendar that could give Madonna’s daughter a run for her money, are decidedly homebodies and I am proud of them for being so.

S will be ten later this year. I is nearly 7 this week and little T is all of 2 and a half going on twenty. My happiest, most contented moments are time spent at home- writing, reading poetry, decorating, but especially and mostly, watching and listening to my children interact and play with each other.

Three days ago, they had converted a corner of our open living room, into a ‘hospital’ cranny where they played ‘Doctor Doctor.” Little T played the resident patient. S the eldest was the doctor and little I was her helper/nurse. They had real life syringes minus the needles and had filled up a Tupperware tumbler of Ribena pretending to be medicine. They seemed to be having the time of their lives as I went in as ‘visitor’. The ‘patient’ had several ailments, from a broken leg, to dengue fever to H1N1 and yet was happy and compliant to be wrapped up and fussed over. They used their own bandannas as bandages. Little T loved the meds as it was sweet and syrupy and icy. Yum! I’d love to be a patient too if the meds were always Ribena. That’s kids thinking smart as they knew Mummy wouldn’t consent to random drinking of Ribena!

It’s their Easter school holidays now and despite have spent a sophisticated weekend across the causeway on the republic at a world-class theme park and having spent precious time with their cousins there, they are happiest at home. They truly are.

They love playing in the various spaces they can find around our home, a nook in the attic that now resembles a warehouse( time for a garage sale!) or they find the space under the TV cabinet in my room fascinating, for it acts as their trench when they play pretend war-fare. With all their stuffed animals, their bedroom gets transformed into a mega zoo. Sometimes I see and hear them on the back patio where they breed guppies and play horses and cowboys together.

Although they are essentially new-age techie kids- urging us parents to use I-phones so they too can use the apps, using Macbooks in school, are real adept with making power-point presentations even for their own little home projects and they know what Youtube is, we don’t let them have their own computers yet, at least not yet. Though Daddy has a first gen PSP, they don’t. No Nintendo DS. No Xbox. No Wii. Little I told me that she wouldn’t want a Nintendo anyway as she preferred to sit down and write poems. That’s her being very political correct at seven. :)

Are we depriving them of what’s out there digitally? I hope not!

Despite the age and gender differences between them, they play well together and I feel blessed and grateful. Today they have found a new game. The two older girls have decided to design clothes out of their old baby clothes. The eldest has drawn structured designs on paper, and no. 2 is helping her. I don’t mind that my Persian rugs are full of their cloth cuttings for I would not like to impede their creativity in any way. Little T is busy making paper cuts to model the designs of his sister’s creations. Who knows, there may be a fashion designer in the making!

I must admit that I am the laziest mum on earth when it comes to supposed artistic and creative kits. I almost rue birthday and Xmas pressies where the whole kit is ready for you to assemble so I try to hide them from the kids. I am such a sloth when it comes to projects like that despite being a teacher. Perhaps it is because I am a teacher, I despise such ‘ready to make’ kits. I would rather see creativity outside the box- Ribena as medicine, old baby clothes transformed into new fashion designs that will make Stella McCartney gape, or the ruler tied up as a gun, or two lolly sticks turned into a cross for a dead hamster’s tomb.

As for myself, I miss playing games like 7 stones, Chinese jump rope(spell:dacing), masak masak and even a simple game my primary friends and I created, called sand, sea, water, land, etc.

Although I think the new digital toys are funky, cool and so uber-chic, I’d prefer to see my kids play a game of ‘Teacher Teacher’ with a real blackboard anytime, rather than stay glued for ages on a computer screen, being easy prey for a pedophile predator. Call me an old- fashioned Mummy but home is where the heart is and where the best ‘games’ are played.

Digital Mummy I am, but not when it comes to good old-fashioned make-believe.

N.B. My kids aren’t always angels like this, by the way!