When my hubby informed me that he would be going for reservist some months back... I thought, what was the big deal. Then he said he would be going to S. Africa and that it would be 3 weeks. And that also didn't unfaze me. I didn't give it much thought since I have always been independent and I do a great job with Lucas. And hey, he was away for longer stint; 2 years in Oz, 1 year in US and in between travels. I managed pretty well on my own back then.
Well, he is gone but for 2 hours and already I'm starting to lose sleep and miss him. Maybe it is becos hubby decided to share that the place he was going is laced with land mines, or the slow knowledge that is starting to sink that 3 weeks is not short... esp. when I can't even recall when it was that he last went overseas.
Once again, I have over-rated my sense of self-independence. This is probably no surprise to some good pals of mine. They had always amused themselves laughing at how I used to think naively that I could manage a bawling baby, while doing some other work. Or that child discipline is a matter of just instilling the right amount of fear. Over time, I have learnt that one of my biggest flaw is I over estimated myself... me and my inflated ego.
Anyway, so here I am, not being able to sleep and already counting the days to my hubby's return. This is going to be a very long and tedious wait.
Saturday, 10 May 2008
Friday, 9 May 2008
Been on a train lately?
I have been real busy lately... and so I thought I should take a break by posting a commentary on behaviours in the train.
The train's my main transport daily to and from work and every morning, I wonder if it's the day I'm gonna get lucky and someone will offer Lucas and I a seat. But I have come to realise and accept that graciousness is pretty dead and chivalry is definitely extinct. On a count of 10 rides weekly(2 rides per working day), I'm offered a seat maybe twice a week. 20% is not too bad I supposed. On some weeks, I stand throughout. Never mind that I'm big-bellied, lugging a big backpac and a squirming 3-year-old, who laments incessantly through the ride that he is tired. No one takes notice of him, or me. They are either too busy reading the papers, playing PSP, pretending to sleep or *gasp* studying the bible. To these pious few, I had to bite my tongue and refrain from saying something ungodly.
One of my colleagues commented that no-one owes me a seat and they are not obliged to give me one. Absolutely true. I do not expect nor do I demand for one. But it would be a nice start to a day to know that there's still some graciousness left (even if it's with stickers on the train walls reminding us). I remembered people giving up their seats willingly and with a smile in the past. What happened from then to now that made people not only less friendly, but less kind too? It's a multi-billion dollar campaign question I supposed,... wonder which Ministry looks into this now... hmmm...
And that's not all the ugly behaviour I see. Just 2 evenings ago, Lucas and I were standing in front of this well-heeled executive (he was wearing a nice watch, crisp shirt and a carrying a really branded bag) and he was busy picking his nose! Not only that, he was happily flicking, yup, flicking his precious digs into space! I promptly pulled clueless Lucas aside, lest we get some unwanted 'blessings'. After he was done with ravaging the right pit, he proceeded to the left... totally disregarding the people about! Incredible! No wonder there was this huge gap in front of him. This lady standing nearby, muttered to me, "Disgusting!" and gave a shudder. Disgusting is an understatement. I can think of nauseating, abominable, vile, sickening, revolting, , abhorrent, which would give more credit to his act.
Then there was this lady who gave me a lashing on how I should 'handle' Lucas. Lucas was in one of his tantrums and I refused to give in to his demands just becos he thought whining and crying in public would get him his way. This particular lady was upset that I had, and I quote, "intruded on (her) audio space" while she was trying to read. She also shared, in a less than poilte way, that her 2 daughters are impeccably well-behaved in public, unlike my unruly little brat. Of course, I acknowledged my imperfection, thanked her for her wisdom and congratulated her on being a wonderful mother... No seriously, I did.
I only hope I'm bringing Lucas up well enough that he retains the sense of chivalry that he now has and that he would continue to give up his seat to pregnant ladies, old people and people with babies in arms. Right now, he is charming my young, pretty colleagues by offering to take their bags for them.
The train's my main transport daily to and from work and every morning, I wonder if it's the day I'm gonna get lucky and someone will offer Lucas and I a seat. But I have come to realise and accept that graciousness is pretty dead and chivalry is definitely extinct. On a count of 10 rides weekly(2 rides per working day), I'm offered a seat maybe twice a week. 20% is not too bad I supposed. On some weeks, I stand throughout. Never mind that I'm big-bellied, lugging a big backpac and a squirming 3-year-old, who laments incessantly through the ride that he is tired. No one takes notice of him, or me. They are either too busy reading the papers, playing PSP, pretending to sleep or *gasp* studying the bible. To these pious few, I had to bite my tongue and refrain from saying something ungodly.
One of my colleagues commented that no-one owes me a seat and they are not obliged to give me one. Absolutely true. I do not expect nor do I demand for one. But it would be a nice start to a day to know that there's still some graciousness left (even if it's with stickers on the train walls reminding us). I remembered people giving up their seats willingly and with a smile in the past. What happened from then to now that made people not only less friendly, but less kind too? It's a multi-billion dollar campaign question I supposed,... wonder which Ministry looks into this now... hmmm...
And that's not all the ugly behaviour I see. Just 2 evenings ago, Lucas and I were standing in front of this well-heeled executive (he was wearing a nice watch, crisp shirt and a carrying a really branded bag) and he was busy picking his nose! Not only that, he was happily flicking, yup, flicking his precious digs into space! I promptly pulled clueless Lucas aside, lest we get some unwanted 'blessings'. After he was done with ravaging the right pit, he proceeded to the left... totally disregarding the people about! Incredible! No wonder there was this huge gap in front of him. This lady standing nearby, muttered to me, "Disgusting!" and gave a shudder. Disgusting is an understatement. I can think of nauseating, abominable, vile, sickening, revolting, , abhorrent, which would give more credit to his act.
Then there was this lady who gave me a lashing on how I should 'handle' Lucas. Lucas was in one of his tantrums and I refused to give in to his demands just becos he thought whining and crying in public would get him his way. This particular lady was upset that I had, and I quote, "intruded on (her) audio space" while she was trying to read. She also shared, in a less than poilte way, that her 2 daughters are impeccably well-behaved in public, unlike my unruly little brat. Of course, I acknowledged my imperfection, thanked her for her wisdom and congratulated her on being a wonderful mother... No seriously, I did.
I only hope I'm bringing Lucas up well enough that he retains the sense of chivalry that he now has and that he would continue to give up his seat to pregnant ladies, old people and people with babies in arms. Right now, he is charming my young, pretty colleagues by offering to take their bags for them.
Saturday, 3 May 2008
My little black book
Rammaging through my cupboards just now turned up a little treasure I thought long lost. It was my little black book of poems I wrote since 1996. There aren't many poems in there and all quite amature. But it meant a lot to me because I wrote these poems based on my experiences so no matter how amaturish they were, they formed a part of my life. I browsed through and picked up a couple that I really liked to post here.
My Boyfriend
~ dedicated to Vincent, 27 06 1997
He is a unique creation
Sent to me for some reason or another
Heavenly angels must have thought me lonesome
And so they blessed me with a guy named Vincent
Eversince he so suddenly appeared
I am jittery, feverish and delirious
He brings smiles upon my face
He brightens up my nights and days
His eyes are small
Inconspicuous when he grins
But he has the biggest heart
That's what really matters to me
He is my knight on a muddy scrambler
My hero, my babe, my dream-builder
Sadly, he is serving NS
But he has nites-off, so who cares
He has the weirdest logic
A streak of lunacy and eccentricity
For all his idiosyncrasy
I still love him crazily
Never request for a hug or kiss
Under the roving eyes of the public
Shyness is his nature
So my hormones have to show some composure
He finally said "luv ya" one fine day
in the phonemail on the 30th of May
Alas, for that to happen again
I'll have to wait for another decade
He may not have glittery diamonds
nor clear-crisps of dollars
But he has the sweetest smile and the warmest touch
He is sincere and that holds my heart
Often I get neurotic
and fear I'll lose him
He is ever so patient
Enduring my free-flow of idiotic questions
Yes, I'm definitely in love with him
as definite as the Do-Do is extinct
He is the best thing that ever happened
he is my one and only Vinc.
~~~
Ball with Teeth and Nose
~ 29 09 1998
Fybo, my dog
has a talent.
He is a hound you see
He likes to nose for things hidden.
Fybo, my dog
plays Frisbee with me in the garden.
Ever so often we would take a break.
He would pass time having the garden raked.
Treasures will pop out of the ground.
A rubber ducky or my long lost GI Joe.
Sometimes it's my dad's slippers,
Sometimes nothing at all.
Funny things were found again today,
A round ball with teeth and nose.
It had what looked like eyes,
'cept the squishy stuff inside.
I wanted to show daddy my find
but he had gone to work.
So I took it to my neighbour
who might reward me for my labour.
She opened the door and I lifted
My loot for her to see.
She turned stark white
and then screamed in fright.
The next thing I know the police came.
My dad in handcuffs led away.
I had many queries in my mind
With only Fybo by my side.
A kind officer then explained to me,
In a husky, solemn tone.
He, "Son, you've solved a mystery...
The ball with teeth and nose, was none other than
your grandpa Jones."
~~~
I really really loved this poem. Hiak Hiak Hiak.
My Boyfriend
~ dedicated to Vincent, 27 06 1997
He is a unique creation
Sent to me for some reason or another
Heavenly angels must have thought me lonesome
And so they blessed me with a guy named Vincent
Eversince he so suddenly appeared
I am jittery, feverish and delirious
He brings smiles upon my face
He brightens up my nights and days
His eyes are small
Inconspicuous when he grins
But he has the biggest heart
That's what really matters to me
He is my knight on a muddy scrambler
My hero, my babe, my dream-builder
Sadly, he is serving NS
But he has nites-off, so who cares
He has the weirdest logic
A streak of lunacy and eccentricity
For all his idiosyncrasy
I still love him crazily
Never request for a hug or kiss
Under the roving eyes of the public
Shyness is his nature
So my hormones have to show some composure
He finally said "luv ya" one fine day
in the phonemail on the 30th of May
Alas, for that to happen again
I'll have to wait for another decade
He may not have glittery diamonds
nor clear-crisps of dollars
But he has the sweetest smile and the warmest touch
He is sincere and that holds my heart
Often I get neurotic
and fear I'll lose him
He is ever so patient
Enduring my free-flow of idiotic questions
Yes, I'm definitely in love with him
as definite as the Do-Do is extinct
He is the best thing that ever happened
he is my one and only Vinc.
~~~
Ball with Teeth and Nose
~ 29 09 1998
Fybo, my dog
has a talent.
He is a hound you see
He likes to nose for things hidden.
Fybo, my dog
plays Frisbee with me in the garden.
Ever so often we would take a break.
He would pass time having the garden raked.
Treasures will pop out of the ground.
A rubber ducky or my long lost GI Joe.
Sometimes it's my dad's slippers,
Sometimes nothing at all.
Funny things were found again today,
A round ball with teeth and nose.
It had what looked like eyes,
'cept the squishy stuff inside.
I wanted to show daddy my find
but he had gone to work.
So I took it to my neighbour
who might reward me for my labour.
She opened the door and I lifted
My loot for her to see.
She turned stark white
and then screamed in fright.
The next thing I know the police came.
My dad in handcuffs led away.
I had many queries in my mind
With only Fybo by my side.
A kind officer then explained to me,
In a husky, solemn tone.
He, "Son, you've solved a mystery...
The ball with teeth and nose, was none other than
your grandpa Jones."
~~~
I really really loved this poem. Hiak Hiak Hiak.
Prejudiced judgement
Today I was introduced to a blog of one of my colleagues. I spent a good 3 hours (into the wee morning) browsing almost every post he had put up. It was a rather strange experience and at the same time, the more I read about him and his interests, the more I thought I understood myself.
No, he was very different from me. He was not even one of the closer colleagues I normally have lunch with. And from what little I had known of him, I had formed certain opinions. So the obsession into reading his blog partly stem from, well, the obsession to know if I'm right all along and partly from a nagging thought I may jolly well be wrong in my assumptions all these while.
I have always pride myself being a good judge of character. I can instinctively detect a lie, sniff out hypocrisy like a hound and defnitely, I can sight invisible daggers. Similarly, I know who my friends are, feel genuine care and concern from people and appreciate little kindness extended to me.
After reading the ton of posts spanning almost 2 years, I came to a realisation that I am quick to judge and my judgement is marred by my own insecurities as well as some imaginations. This is perhaps what I would call biasness and even prejudiced judgement. Perhaps I had been wrong about my judgement of this person after all. And I thought this is a truly humbling experience and I resolved not be so quick to judge.
Then the cynic in me comes up, perhaps the blogs were written in that particular way because they were meant to impress and meant for public reading.
Whatever the case, I doubt giving people more benefit of doubt is going to hurt me much and that's what I shall do.
No, he was very different from me. He was not even one of the closer colleagues I normally have lunch with. And from what little I had known of him, I had formed certain opinions. So the obsession into reading his blog partly stem from, well, the obsession to know if I'm right all along and partly from a nagging thought I may jolly well be wrong in my assumptions all these while.
I have always pride myself being a good judge of character. I can instinctively detect a lie, sniff out hypocrisy like a hound and defnitely, I can sight invisible daggers. Similarly, I know who my friends are, feel genuine care and concern from people and appreciate little kindness extended to me.
After reading the ton of posts spanning almost 2 years, I came to a realisation that I am quick to judge and my judgement is marred by my own insecurities as well as some imaginations. This is perhaps what I would call biasness and even prejudiced judgement. Perhaps I had been wrong about my judgement of this person after all. And I thought this is a truly humbling experience and I resolved not be so quick to judge.
Then the cynic in me comes up, perhaps the blogs were written in that particular way because they were meant to impress and meant for public reading.
Whatever the case, I doubt giving people more benefit of doubt is going to hurt me much and that's what I shall do.
Friday, 2 May 2008
Natural consequences
Recently, Lucas has been acting up at meal times. He has always been a fussy eater but nowadays, he is testing the limit to see if I can go beyond the 1.5 hours treshold.
Anyway, this post is not a complaint. Rather, a revelation I got in differentiating natural consequence and punishment to young children. Yes, it is probably common sense and no rocket science... but I didn't realise how easy it was to go down the slippery slope of posing many outcomes as punishments when they should be natural consequences.
Example, last Friday, Lucas once again took 1 hr 45 mins to eat his dinner. We told him explicitly that if he finishes his dinner slowly, he will not get to play with the toys at the toys section of X department store. No rationale was given (BAD MOVE 1). He took his time. He finally chewed off his last mouth of food at 8.45 pm which was about the time we needed to set off for home. So we told him, matter-of-factly, that he can't play toys cos he finished his meal so slowly and that we had already told him to eat dinner 'properly' but he didn't listen. (BAD MOVE 2). This must have sounded a lot like a punishment for non-compliance. Of course, he protested with tears and shouts. But we went home anyway.
That night, I set about thinking how it could have been different. On hindsight, I should have 1st explained the rationale for eating 'properly' i.e. it will leave you time to do what you want. And when he didn't perform that task, I should have made it clear that he was not going to play toys becos it was a natural consequence of him dilly-dallying, and NOT becos we were out to punish him for not complying.
But it is really a lot easier said than done, esp. when you already feel a blood clot forming in your veins out of sheer frustration. But if children see how their actions affect the consequences and how they can control that, then perhaps they will comply more. Anyway, it is a theory and I'll test it out to see if there are any improvements. And that's one of the things I love about being a parent,.. it is like playing CSI, finding an answer, 1 clue and 1 assumption at a time.
Anyway, this post is not a complaint. Rather, a revelation I got in differentiating natural consequence and punishment to young children. Yes, it is probably common sense and no rocket science... but I didn't realise how easy it was to go down the slippery slope of posing many outcomes as punishments when they should be natural consequences.
Example, last Friday, Lucas once again took 1 hr 45 mins to eat his dinner. We told him explicitly that if he finishes his dinner slowly, he will not get to play with the toys at the toys section of X department store. No rationale was given (BAD MOVE 1). He took his time. He finally chewed off his last mouth of food at 8.45 pm which was about the time we needed to set off for home. So we told him, matter-of-factly, that he can't play toys cos he finished his meal so slowly and that we had already told him to eat dinner 'properly' but he didn't listen. (BAD MOVE 2). This must have sounded a lot like a punishment for non-compliance. Of course, he protested with tears and shouts. But we went home anyway.
That night, I set about thinking how it could have been different. On hindsight, I should have 1st explained the rationale for eating 'properly' i.e. it will leave you time to do what you want. And when he didn't perform that task, I should have made it clear that he was not going to play toys becos it was a natural consequence of him dilly-dallying, and NOT becos we were out to punish him for not complying.
But it is really a lot easier said than done, esp. when you already feel a blood clot forming in your veins out of sheer frustration. But if children see how their actions affect the consequences and how they can control that, then perhaps they will comply more. Anyway, it is a theory and I'll test it out to see if there are any improvements. And that's one of the things I love about being a parent,.. it is like playing CSI, finding an answer, 1 clue and 1 assumption at a time.
Thursday, 24 April 2008
Bearing the pain with gritted teeth
Lucas woke up one morning limping. We couldn't quite figure out what happened so I brought him to the hospital to have a couple of checks done. His X-Ray came out ok so the doc suspects it was some kind of infection, leading to bone/joint inflammation. Lucas had to get a blood test done to find out if the doc's premise is right.
Now, Lucas is a brave boy and he normally doesn't complain of pain much. Even then, I figured blood taking would probably be a different ball game. I never quite believe that you should leave it to the docs to prep a child or that you should assume that a child ought to cry about an injection or anything involving needles. Well, to begin with, I was never quite afraid of needles, altho. my husband is terrified of them.
Anyway, I figured I should start 'training' Lucas to not be afraid of needles. After all, we would be poked several times throughout our life and I would want Lucas to donate blood when he is older too. So I told the doc to give me some time to prep him and I insisted that the doc must ask his permission before doing so (hey, the blood belongs to him so permission should be asked right?). I reminded Lucas of how he witnessed mommy having her blood taken and how I wasn't squeamish about it. Point to note here is that you MUST NEVER show fear if you want your children to be brave at something. I also plainly told him the needle will hurt, something of a bite but it will be bearable. I didn't lie that it will not hurt. Lying will just diminish your credibility and next time, he discredit your claims. And I told him mommy will hold him and if the pain gets too much, he can shout and cry but he CANNOT move his hand (which the blood is being drawn) cos it will hurt even more.
The doc asked for his permission and proceeded after given the ok. The doc had to poke him twice and twist the needle into the vein cos his vein is just too small.
The verdict: Lucas didn't cry. He didn't shout. He only kept looking at the needle and grumbled, " Oww... very pain... ow, ow, ow... very very ppppaaaaaiiinnnn.. Ow, Ow". And while the needle was in, he watched the blood being collected.
After the whole process, he looked at me and said he was a brave boy and that he wasn't afraid of needle. I was really proud of him, and myself. Because I managed to modify his perception of pain.
That night, he went home and jibed at his daddy about his fear of needles.
Now, Lucas is a brave boy and he normally doesn't complain of pain much. Even then, I figured blood taking would probably be a different ball game. I never quite believe that you should leave it to the docs to prep a child or that you should assume that a child ought to cry about an injection or anything involving needles. Well, to begin with, I was never quite afraid of needles, altho. my husband is terrified of them.
Anyway, I figured I should start 'training' Lucas to not be afraid of needles. After all, we would be poked several times throughout our life and I would want Lucas to donate blood when he is older too. So I told the doc to give me some time to prep him and I insisted that the doc must ask his permission before doing so (hey, the blood belongs to him so permission should be asked right?). I reminded Lucas of how he witnessed mommy having her blood taken and how I wasn't squeamish about it. Point to note here is that you MUST NEVER show fear if you want your children to be brave at something. I also plainly told him the needle will hurt, something of a bite but it will be bearable. I didn't lie that it will not hurt. Lying will just diminish your credibility and next time, he discredit your claims. And I told him mommy will hold him and if the pain gets too much, he can shout and cry but he CANNOT move his hand (which the blood is being drawn) cos it will hurt even more.
The doc asked for his permission and proceeded after given the ok. The doc had to poke him twice and twist the needle into the vein cos his vein is just too small.
The verdict: Lucas didn't cry. He didn't shout. He only kept looking at the needle and grumbled, " Oww... very pain... ow, ow, ow... very very ppppaaaaaiiinnnn.. Ow, Ow". And while the needle was in, he watched the blood being collected.
After the whole process, he looked at me and said he was a brave boy and that he wasn't afraid of needle. I was really proud of him, and myself. Because I managed to modify his perception of pain.
That night, he went home and jibed at his daddy about his fear of needles.
Wednesday, 16 April 2008
Striving towards perfection
Recently, I was introduced to a blog belonging to friend of my hubby's. She is a working mother of a 3 year old girl and her blog revolves around her parenting experience. She is a heck of a dedicated mother, at least by my definition, and she has very high expectations of herself as a mom.
In her blog about her daughter's birthday, I was moved the amount of effort and thought that went into the planning. At the same time, it set me thinking... The blog ended with how she felt being "lesser of a parent" because the cake she had badly wanted didn't turn out the way she expected. While I can see why she is disappointed, I thought we should all be kinder and less demanding of ourselves. Yes, we all set out to be great parents... but really, will a less-than-perfect birthday party make us less of a parent? I don't think so.
I'm glad I could laugh at myself for stumbling (literally) with Lucas's birthday. I fell flat with the cake and as a result, the cake was a pretty (not literally) mess. And I was glad I could laugh about how silly and clumsy mommy was. Because through that Lucas learnt that life really shouldn't be taken too seriously sometimes. He didn't make a fuss of the ex-cake, and was just as happy and beaming when he blew out the candles.
Point is, parenting is a tough job and life is not always nice and sweet. We can afford to be kinder to ourselves and in the process teach our kids, that things don't always work out to plans. That, in adversity and 'shitty situations', one must look ahead and plod on... and perhaps laugh along the way. It is a vital skill. When a child is taught that failure is part of life and it doesn't mean failure as a person, they would be more apt at taking risks, accepting failures and trying again.
If I had a chance to turn back the clock, would I choose the perfect birthday or an opportunity to teach Lucas about life? I would choose the latter.
In her blog about her daughter's birthday, I was moved the amount of effort and thought that went into the planning. At the same time, it set me thinking... The blog ended with how she felt being "lesser of a parent" because the cake she had badly wanted didn't turn out the way she expected. While I can see why she is disappointed, I thought we should all be kinder and less demanding of ourselves. Yes, we all set out to be great parents... but really, will a less-than-perfect birthday party make us less of a parent? I don't think so.
I'm glad I could laugh at myself for stumbling (literally) with Lucas's birthday. I fell flat with the cake and as a result, the cake was a pretty (not literally) mess. And I was glad I could laugh about how silly and clumsy mommy was. Because through that Lucas learnt that life really shouldn't be taken too seriously sometimes. He didn't make a fuss of the ex-cake, and was just as happy and beaming when he blew out the candles.
Point is, parenting is a tough job and life is not always nice and sweet. We can afford to be kinder to ourselves and in the process teach our kids, that things don't always work out to plans. That, in adversity and 'shitty situations', one must look ahead and plod on... and perhaps laugh along the way. It is a vital skill. When a child is taught that failure is part of life and it doesn't mean failure as a person, they would be more apt at taking risks, accepting failures and trying again.
If I had a chance to turn back the clock, would I choose the perfect birthday or an opportunity to teach Lucas about life? I would choose the latter.
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