I'm not sure if its turning 3 or a case of mixing with the wrong crowd, but my little angel has been displaying less than angelic behaviour of late. angry, glaring eyes? check. Arms akimbo complete with one stomping little foot? check. Rude retorts? Check. And I get the full display with a few encores every day. As I investigate the source of this new behaviour, my helper reveals to me that that's what the little girl next door (same age) does, and her parents find it cute! choke!! AND I've been letting her play with said little girl at least 3 times a week and honestly, not because I want to improve her social skills, but because, the very pregnant me just wants an hour on the couch to chill. So given this new discovery, i have to find a solution to this pressing problem. Stop the neighbourly visits? Heart to heart talks with a promise of certain discipline measures? Hubby and I conference and decide on the latter. In anticipation, he bought a cane from the neighbourhood shop. Not that we will really use it i don't think, but, well, to show we really don't condone that sort of behaviour. So hubby brought the cane home, put on the fierecest face he could muster, and prepared to give his, "if this continues..." speech, only to get circumvented by the little one who rushes to him, all beaming with delight, shouting, "you bought me a walking stick daddy!! thank you!!" and prompting frees him from it while she does her impersonation of an old person. Stunned, hubby freezes in shock for a while and eventually wrestles "walking stick" back and tells her it is a cane for naughty children and it will hurt. He thwacks one of her toys in demonstration. little one looks sober for a while, then, spying the handle, bubbles over again, "you bought me a PINK cane daddy! thank you!!" Hard to keep a straight face after.
Sometimes it is tiring to repeat the same thing over and over again, and i hate to hear my voice like a broken record, knowing that 5 mins later, I'm going to have to repeat warning, take action and do it all over again, ad infinitum. I tell myself, better now than next time, when she'd be too big for me to physically move her to a naughty corner and actually expect her to stay there. I find myself on my knees in the wee hours of the night, praying for more grace, more favour, more energy, to deal with the shennenigans that will come with the morning. I'm also reminded that I'm blessed with the time and opportunity to actually witness and correct bad behaviour in a way that other mums may not have the chance to, simply because they are not at home to actually witness it. Many parents see their children at the most 2 hours a day, after work, before the child sleeps, with the best part of the day, spent making ends meet, while their child is subcontracted to the day care, the maid, the grandparents...and we know how "disciplined" they will get under those circumstances. So while the day can be thankless, the job of parenting financially unrewarding, I know that it is the highest honour one can have, to determine how one (or more) life can turn out in the future. So while I really enjoy my various part-time jobs, I know that the best job in the world is still the one that is unpaid, and my priority should be to my one student.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
turning 3
The thing about Maeve turning 3 is I've got a lovely interactive child who can hold adult-like conversations with me and argue the pros and cons of ALL my decisions, unfortunately. Thankfully, her daddy acquainted her with the concept of opportunity cost. ie. if you want ice-cream, then no sweets, you tube? then one less story at bed time. so far so good. However, turning 3 also means she thinks she's more invincible then she actually is. so these few months, we've seen blood gushing out of her from various body parts, because she forgets she's not made of steel. And the problem with a 3 year old is, pain doesn't make them learn their lesson.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
The one min mother
Hubby bought me a wonderful small book called the one minute mother and it really can be summarised into 3 principles:
1. 1 min goal setting (so that children know what they are aiming for)
2. 1 min praising (where you are effusive in your praise for the child)
3. 1 min reprimand (where you tell the child IMMEDIATELY how you feel when they've done wrong and then straight away remind them how much you love them and how you KNOW they can do better than this)
Very simple rules for parenting but so easy to forget to do.
I realise that i use these 3 rules very liberally and unconsciously as a teacher but forget to do so as a parent...and i really don't know why. Perhaps it is because we see our children much more often and the chances of us going ballistic on them and forgetting to praise is high. The one thing that struck me was "catch your child doing right". most of us, me defintely, are experts in catching our children doing wrong. "Don't climb that..sit down now...stop...that was naughty...etc".
So these ferw weeks, I've been trying to practice the principle of "catching maeve do something right". the premise is, if they get praised often enough for doing the right things, the bad behaviour naturally reduces in time. And by golly, it is true! I've caught maeve doing the most mundane "right" things, eg. sharing with a neighbour, smiling sweetly, being polite, helping me wash dishes, setting the table, NOT throwing a tantrum before school, NOT demanding an extra sweet...the list is endless, but 2 things happened. i realise what a darling i have in her, that she's more good than bad, and it DID reduce bad behaviour! coz bad behaviour didn't get any attention, even negative attention!
Next, I'll experiment with 1 minute goal setting, although I'm not sure how to do so with a toddler. will have to try. the first goal i need to set together with her is "pick up your toys after playing without prompting". Will report on progress!
1. 1 min goal setting (so that children know what they are aiming for)
2. 1 min praising (where you are effusive in your praise for the child)
3. 1 min reprimand (where you tell the child IMMEDIATELY how you feel when they've done wrong and then straight away remind them how much you love them and how you KNOW they can do better than this)
Very simple rules for parenting but so easy to forget to do.
I realise that i use these 3 rules very liberally and unconsciously as a teacher but forget to do so as a parent...and i really don't know why. Perhaps it is because we see our children much more often and the chances of us going ballistic on them and forgetting to praise is high. The one thing that struck me was "catch your child doing right". most of us, me defintely, are experts in catching our children doing wrong. "Don't climb that..sit down now...stop...that was naughty...etc".
So these ferw weeks, I've been trying to practice the principle of "catching maeve do something right". the premise is, if they get praised often enough for doing the right things, the bad behaviour naturally reduces in time. And by golly, it is true! I've caught maeve doing the most mundane "right" things, eg. sharing with a neighbour, smiling sweetly, being polite, helping me wash dishes, setting the table, NOT throwing a tantrum before school, NOT demanding an extra sweet...the list is endless, but 2 things happened. i realise what a darling i have in her, that she's more good than bad, and it DID reduce bad behaviour! coz bad behaviour didn't get any attention, even negative attention!
Next, I'll experiment with 1 minute goal setting, although I'm not sure how to do so with a toddler. will have to try. the first goal i need to set together with her is "pick up your toys after playing without prompting". Will report on progress!
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Toddler Anger Management
I've spent the past few days having self-talks entitled "what is reasonable toddler anger". Given my current state of being stuck at home, I can't venture out to do street interviews, which would probably unearth quite a few gems. My little almost 3 year old has been having, let's just say, bad days. I'm not sure if its developmental (and hence will pass eventually), or reactionary (since i haven't been able to carry her or chase her or play hide and seek etc)or just plain naughtiness. The thing is, when you put a nauseated hormonal pregnant woman together with a toddler who has decided on a new behavioural pattern, mainly, "I don't want!!" complete with stamping feet, pumping fists, war is inevitable. Our mornings start this way of late with "i donb't want to shower/brush my teeth/have breakfast/go to school". Ordinarily, i'll hoist her and physically move her to where she should be, but given my "do-not-carry-heavy-things" command by the doctor, i can only watch and steam as the petulant one does a sit-in protest. When I'm not puking my guts out, I'll do the firm mama and issue the "i-do-not-want-to-repeat-myself-again-or-you're-in'serious-trouble" at which time usually there will be all out screaming and crying, sending the neighbour rushing in in the "is maeve alright-are you abusing her?" mode. I literally have to bite my tongue hard to prevent myself from joining in the scream fest. Part of my brain somewhere says that anger is healthy and verbal anger should be encouraged so that physical anger is not resorted to. After all, all of us are entitled to feelings of anger/frustration/irritability, so would it be fair of me to curtail a toddler's? I've been letting her vent so far till she's tired of crying/screaming, then we go do something nice together, but this is really turning me ragged. Even my parents agree I look like road kill. 3 day old road kill.
so hence my dilemma over this anger thing. is it healthy? Is there any other way i can teach her to express said anger? Should it be nipped straight away? This is really a post-modern parental concern, which is probably laughable to most of our parents. Just buy a cane lah, is the common response. But hubby and i have strong views about the cane, mainly, that it simply leads to fear and submission that is not internalised, but externalised, which in turn leads to passive-aggresive behaviour when they are older, which is dangerous. Forgive me if this is a bit of a psycho-babble, we're both teachers and have seen enough of later forms of destructive, hidden anger.so back to 3 year old anger. right now, i'm still having my internal debates and am praying that once this bed rest thing is over, my playing and running around with her, carrying and wrestling, will bring back my sweet and lovable child. She's in there somewhere, i know it.
so hence my dilemma over this anger thing. is it healthy? Is there any other way i can teach her to express said anger? Should it be nipped straight away? This is really a post-modern parental concern, which is probably laughable to most of our parents. Just buy a cane lah, is the common response. But hubby and i have strong views about the cane, mainly, that it simply leads to fear and submission that is not internalised, but externalised, which in turn leads to passive-aggresive behaviour when they are older, which is dangerous. Forgive me if this is a bit of a psycho-babble, we're both teachers and have seen enough of later forms of destructive, hidden anger.so back to 3 year old anger. right now, i'm still having my internal debates and am praying that once this bed rest thing is over, my playing and running around with her, carrying and wrestling, will bring back my sweet and lovable child. She's in there somewhere, i know it.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
I think I found your baby
This entry was meant to be an epitaph of sorts. In fact, there were so many ways i had planned to say goodbye.
Backtracking to Thursay 2am, (or rather friday morning), i woke up in the middle of the night to discover i was bleeding, not just spotting, like full on bleeding. Determined not to panic (trying to think, what would hubby do in this situation?), I waited for a while before waking hubby to report said news. After praying, we decided the sensible thing was to report ourselves to KKH immediately, but what about our sleeping little one? thankfully, a phone call in the dead of the night and a very wonderful brother-in-law availed himself, sleepy but very concerned. He will watch over maeve while we make that frightening trip. at the hospital, the doctor scanned me for the longest time and evaded all my questions of "how is my baby?". Finally, he angled the ultrasound machine at me and pointed and explained the picture i saw in front of me. It was a black hole with what seemed like debris, floating about. Sort of like the dark sky with litter. where's the baby, i asked. at once fearful. You have already begun the process of miscarriage. i am sorry. what you see are the products of pregancy that have already started to disintegrate. i howled. weeping is an inadequate word to describe the sounds of pain and anguish that coursed through me. I'd like to ward you. he said. We'll do a detailed ultrasound tomorrow. the results won't change, I'm sorry, but the detailed U/S will help us with the evacuation. That's what they call it when they suck up what's left-over from the womb. to evacuate. Like leaving a building because of some terrorist attack. No. Hubby said. We will not ward her. We will go home and come again tomorrow for the procedure. Hubby knew we needed the space, the privacy, our home, to mourn. And we did, over hot milo at home, recalling the insane reality of this pregnancy, remininscing about how this little one likes noodles and scorns cereal, my usual breakfast. We thought about how to tell Maeve, who has been fiercely protective over her yet to be born sibling. who had already named her sibling.
Friday morning. 11am. detailed scan at KKH radiology department.
The form i took to the scan said, to confirm a miscarriage. The radiographer smiled and spoke to me, engaging me in small talk. i barely heard a word, so numb was i to anything. She sensed my grief and encouraged me. an angel sent at my hour of need. I told her more than i should tell a stranger, i told her how i couldn't conceive naturally and how this was a miracle, albeit short lived.
She was quiet for a while and then said, I'm not supposed to tell you this as I'm not a doctor, but i can see how heartbroken you are. She angled the machine to face me. i looked at it. there was no debris, just a black hole and a white dot. I looked at her, not comprehending.
I think i found your baby. she said.
what do you mean? my thoughts were, ok, at least i knew there was a baby, and not a blighted ovum with no growing fetus. it was closure, i could look at the screen and say goodbye.
And here, she continued, is the beating heart. i saw a white spot pulsating on the screen.and its beating well!
You mean? you mean? Its alive?!!!! We looked at each other, strangers locked in a swirl of powerful emotions.
I floated out of the room, a crazed smile on my face. hubby was troubled. he expected to be my pillar of strength as i came out, collapsed in tears, as i did yesterday. i showed him the ultrasound. what does it mean? what's this? what's this dot? i smiled and he knew. we were giggling like 7 year olds with a secret. we giggled all the way out of the department, carrying our secret ultrasound.
yes, said the doctor. this is your baby. it is a viable pregnancy. rest in bed. don't move about too much because of your bleeding. yes mdm!
Did i mention that maeve named this little one isaac? She said, his name is isaac, the son of abraham. when i read that chapter of the bible, hubby pointed to me that abraham was prepared to sacrifice his son to God, but he had, in faith told his servant, wait here for us, WE will return. he didn't say, I will return. He believed that even if he did burn Isaac as a sacrifice, somehow God will resurrect him someway. return him someway.
I believe our little one went to heaven on thursday night and returned on friday morning. I believe my God is one of miracles. My baby was lost and now is found, was gone and now is alive!
Backtracking to Thursay 2am, (or rather friday morning), i woke up in the middle of the night to discover i was bleeding, not just spotting, like full on bleeding. Determined not to panic (trying to think, what would hubby do in this situation?), I waited for a while before waking hubby to report said news. After praying, we decided the sensible thing was to report ourselves to KKH immediately, but what about our sleeping little one? thankfully, a phone call in the dead of the night and a very wonderful brother-in-law availed himself, sleepy but very concerned. He will watch over maeve while we make that frightening trip. at the hospital, the doctor scanned me for the longest time and evaded all my questions of "how is my baby?". Finally, he angled the ultrasound machine at me and pointed and explained the picture i saw in front of me. It was a black hole with what seemed like debris, floating about. Sort of like the dark sky with litter. where's the baby, i asked. at once fearful. You have already begun the process of miscarriage. i am sorry. what you see are the products of pregancy that have already started to disintegrate. i howled. weeping is an inadequate word to describe the sounds of pain and anguish that coursed through me. I'd like to ward you. he said. We'll do a detailed ultrasound tomorrow. the results won't change, I'm sorry, but the detailed U/S will help us with the evacuation. That's what they call it when they suck up what's left-over from the womb. to evacuate. Like leaving a building because of some terrorist attack. No. Hubby said. We will not ward her. We will go home and come again tomorrow for the procedure. Hubby knew we needed the space, the privacy, our home, to mourn. And we did, over hot milo at home, recalling the insane reality of this pregnancy, remininscing about how this little one likes noodles and scorns cereal, my usual breakfast. We thought about how to tell Maeve, who has been fiercely protective over her yet to be born sibling. who had already named her sibling.
Friday morning. 11am. detailed scan at KKH radiology department.
The form i took to the scan said, to confirm a miscarriage. The radiographer smiled and spoke to me, engaging me in small talk. i barely heard a word, so numb was i to anything. She sensed my grief and encouraged me. an angel sent at my hour of need. I told her more than i should tell a stranger, i told her how i couldn't conceive naturally and how this was a miracle, albeit short lived.
She was quiet for a while and then said, I'm not supposed to tell you this as I'm not a doctor, but i can see how heartbroken you are. She angled the machine to face me. i looked at it. there was no debris, just a black hole and a white dot. I looked at her, not comprehending.
I think i found your baby. she said.
what do you mean? my thoughts were, ok, at least i knew there was a baby, and not a blighted ovum with no growing fetus. it was closure, i could look at the screen and say goodbye.
And here, she continued, is the beating heart. i saw a white spot pulsating on the screen.and its beating well!
You mean? you mean? Its alive?!!!! We looked at each other, strangers locked in a swirl of powerful emotions.
I floated out of the room, a crazed smile on my face. hubby was troubled. he expected to be my pillar of strength as i came out, collapsed in tears, as i did yesterday. i showed him the ultrasound. what does it mean? what's this? what's this dot? i smiled and he knew. we were giggling like 7 year olds with a secret. we giggled all the way out of the department, carrying our secret ultrasound.
yes, said the doctor. this is your baby. it is a viable pregnancy. rest in bed. don't move about too much because of your bleeding. yes mdm!
Did i mention that maeve named this little one isaac? She said, his name is isaac, the son of abraham. when i read that chapter of the bible, hubby pointed to me that abraham was prepared to sacrifice his son to God, but he had, in faith told his servant, wait here for us, WE will return. he didn't say, I will return. He believed that even if he did burn Isaac as a sacrifice, somehow God will resurrect him someway. return him someway.
I believe our little one went to heaven on thursday night and returned on friday morning. I believe my God is one of miracles. My baby was lost and now is found, was gone and now is alive!
Thursday, July 9, 2009
mixed blessings
Well, after a long hiatus from blogging owing to various reasons,
laziness being chief, I'm happy to announce that
2.yes, it took us completely by surprise, given our
previous failed attempt last year with the frozen transfer. I was so
shocked i just jumped up and down, probably an unwise move! The
wonderful thing is our little prophetess proclaimed, even before i even
knew i was pregnant, that there was a baby in my tummy. she prayed for
the baby over manyconsecutive nights and after 2 weeks, she was right!
the not so good news is I'm spotting, which means the womb is not so
stable, and at a 6 weeks plus ultrasound, thegynae couldn't find the
baby, only the gestational sac. I'll have to go back in 2 weeks when
the baby will hopefully stop hiding. so, really, these few days have
been filled with trepidation and downright terror. Reading the word has
calmed me down heaps, especially after staring at the big dark circle
in the ultrasound where the baby should appear as a speck, but did not.
Psalms 139:11 all the way reassured me, especially the bit about hiding
in the dark, but God still sees. i thought of the dark ultrasound
straight away as did hubby as i read it. so am claiming it as a promise
from God, that this little one is a bit shy and in hiding! If you are
reading this, pray alongside us, and if you have a word from God for
us, so let me know. i could use the reassurance.
laziness being chief, I'm happy to announce that
2.yes, it took us completely by surprise, given our
previous failed attempt last year with the frozen transfer. I was so
shocked i just jumped up and down, probably an unwise move! The
wonderful thing is our little prophetess proclaimed, even before i even
knew i was pregnant, that there was a baby in my tummy. she prayed for
the baby over manyconsecutive nights and after 2 weeks, she was right!
the not so good news is I'm spotting, which means the womb is not so
stable, and at a 6 weeks plus ultrasound, thegynae couldn't find the
baby, only the gestational sac. I'll have to go back in 2 weeks when
the baby will hopefully stop hiding. so, really, these few days have
been filled with trepidation and downright terror. Reading the word has
calmed me down heaps, especially after staring at the big dark circle
in the ultrasound where the baby should appear as a speck, but did not.
Psalms 139:11 all the way reassured me, especially the bit about hiding
in the dark, but God still sees. i thought of the dark ultrasound
straight away as did hubby as i read it. so am claiming it as a promise
from God, that this little one is a bit shy and in hiding! If you are
reading this, pray alongside us, and if you have a word from God for
us, so let me know. i could use the reassurance.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
me time
I realise how much my identity has been tied to that of being a mother that i've somehow lost a bit of me in the process. Tonight, i daringly went out for a play sans hubby sans bub and really enjoyed the whole stroll by myself to victoria theatre, actually watch a night performance rather than matinee, catch up with friends over drinks after the show thing. And for a while, i forgot about my mummy-tag. AND, i say this with guilt, i actually liked that i forgot about it. Even though i knew i was playing at the whole footloose fancy free thing, it was nice, if only for a fleeting moment. So when hubby summoned me home as bub refused to sleep unless i was beside her, i was VERY tempted to just say, i'm enjoying myself, YOU put her to bed and i'll see you past midnight. BUT! the guilt thing happened and of course i abandoned everyone and slunk home, slightly resentful, terribly guilty for enjoying myself...but heeding the call of motherhood. i wonder if fathers have such guilt feelings or is it just mothers who are wired that way. So there i was, having a wonderful conversation spanning greek history and performance theory to the latest developments in this or that (the sort of conversation i haven't had in a long time) and all the while, supressing the bleep sound in my head that I'm wanted and missed by my little one. Perhaps i should do a poll about this motherhood and guilt thing so i know i'm not the only one who constantly feels guilty for enjoying myself sans child.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Sexuality education
"mummy, when i grow up, i want to have the long long one." (points between her legs)
"Sweetie, you won't ever have it as you are a girl. only boys have it."
"like daddy, and grandpa?"
"yes. and it is called a penis"
"peanuts?"
"No. Penis"
"peanuts....grandma likes to eat peanuts right?"
"Sweetie, you won't ever have it as you are a girl. only boys have it."
"like daddy, and grandpa?"
"yes. and it is called a penis"
"peanuts?"
"No. Penis"
"peanuts....grandma likes to eat peanuts right?"
Monday, May 11, 2009
conversing with God
Did i mention that toddlers are terribly cunning? mine is not only cunning, she still believes she's God (or at least, she loves pretending to be). One long trying afternoon, as I was trying to get her to nap, by pretending to sleep too (this usually works as she would look around bored, then fall asleep), the little one just refused to close her eyes. She was horizontal, but talking nineteen to the dozen...to herself. in effect, she was having a duologue with God, but you see, she plays both parts, her, and God.
In deep scary voice as God "Maeve, you were naughty just now right?"
in her own voice " yes God, I was bad"
deep voice "Then you need to apologise to mummy"
her voice "i know God, but mummy is asleep, so I can't say sorry."
Of course, hard to remain in a pretend sleep mode when these sorts of conversations with God goes on!
In deep scary voice as God "Maeve, you were naughty just now right?"
in her own voice " yes God, I was bad"
deep voice "Then you need to apologise to mummy"
her voice "i know God, but mummy is asleep, so I can't say sorry."
Of course, hard to remain in a pretend sleep mode when these sorts of conversations with God goes on!
Monday, May 4, 2009
and the bug goes round and round
it has been almost a month and our family is not free from this unrelenting bug. it always starts with the kids and then it goes to the adults. I've now fallen victim to it after fending it off valiantly for what seemed like ages while the little one succumbed almost immediately. darned! wished i was still breastfeeding her then maybe she'll have more immunity! now that I'm down with the usual fever and cough, it has been hard on the little one as I cannot hug her too much, certainly cannot kiss her and have to wear a mask and sleep apart from her. she tried her best to be understanding, even fetching water, thermometer etc on the first day, but now, is inconsolable as she has not been kissed for 3 days and 3 days is a very long time for someone who needs lots of kisses and cuddles. Her daddy has been great, trying to do all the things i do with her, bed time stories, bathing, cuddling, but i guess it is not quite the same. just now, she teared pitifully, saying she wanted to stroke mummy's hand to sleep. i offered her daddy's, saying it was the same thing. she shot me the kind of look that can only come from teenagers, and burst into tears, begging me to sleep with her, and offering to boot her daddy out instead. Poor daddy will probably have to contend with her sleeping on his chest the entire night as he strokes her to sleep. i just hope i'll be up and about tomorrow as i hate being so absolutely useless, just pretty much moving from a horizontal position on the bed to another horizontal one on the sofa, alert only when Panadol Max does its magic.I guess sometimes i expect too much from a 2 year old. how can i hope she'd understand mummy needs to wear a mask, be horizontal, not do jumping jacks? So all mums can never hope for time to rest and recuperate. they can only pray that they will recover instantly so that they can continue their jobs as mums.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
I realise I spend far too much time studiously reading books and angsting over discipline. Instead, I should trust my instincts more and trust God's guidance more.
I've been reading this book, Shepherding the heart of a child, that asserts that children should be taught to obey at the first instance, no matter what. Although they may negotiate, ie, "can i finish the puzzle first?", they are expected to heed the call, if the answer from mum or dad is "no". And if they don't, we have to smack them, as that is what the bible calls for and we have no right to challenge what God asks us to do as parents. Well, I would say that there are some good principles in this book, about winning the heart of a child, but this book has also caused me much distress as i tried to apply its principles, mainly, teach her to obey at the first instance. The end result? I got really tired and frustrated, having to put on my stern face, about 20-30 times a day, which is really hard to do, given my personality. it also caused my little one to withdraw from me. in fact, she told me that the job of a mummy is to punish. ouch! Anyways, after confessing to a crime one night, without prompting, I had to punish, but really, was too tired, from punishing the entire day, to punish further. So, i sent her to bed, while I tossed and turned, troubled by the confessed crime and my parenting. As usual, I couldn't sleep, so got out of bed at 1am and talked to God (for some reason, I hear Him most clearly at about that time). 2 things happened. Firstly, my helper awoke too and sat down to chat with me. Our casual chat revealed that Maeve's misdeed wasn't an act of naughtiness but really that of excitement and she had apologised profusely to the other little kid. That took a load of my mind as I was envisioning a little ganster in the making.The next was a book that God set my eyes upon, Parenting with Grace and Truth. The book affirmed all that I had been doing with Maeve (before I read the other book) and assured me that my general sense of uneasiness with this new method of parenting and discipline was the appropriate response. It is amazing how God speaks so clearly and specifically to me in the dead of the night. I am CHUCKING that book out as I started parenting with lots of truth and NO grace, and i HATED the mother that I had become on account of that book.
Now, I am parenting and disciplining my usual way, with lots of smiles and kisses for thoughtful action, good behaviour and pretty much ignoring her when she's cranky (instead of punishing) and punishing only for misdeed. We are all much happier and Maeve is back to her cheerful, cheeky self. So the moral of the story? Stop being such an insecure parent and reading all these parenting books! Instead, trust that God has equipped me over the years to do what's best for her.
I've been reading this book, Shepherding the heart of a child, that asserts that children should be taught to obey at the first instance, no matter what. Although they may negotiate, ie, "can i finish the puzzle first?", they are expected to heed the call, if the answer from mum or dad is "no". And if they don't, we have to smack them, as that is what the bible calls for and we have no right to challenge what God asks us to do as parents. Well, I would say that there are some good principles in this book, about winning the heart of a child, but this book has also caused me much distress as i tried to apply its principles, mainly, teach her to obey at the first instance. The end result? I got really tired and frustrated, having to put on my stern face, about 20-30 times a day, which is really hard to do, given my personality. it also caused my little one to withdraw from me. in fact, she told me that the job of a mummy is to punish. ouch! Anyways, after confessing to a crime one night, without prompting, I had to punish, but really, was too tired, from punishing the entire day, to punish further. So, i sent her to bed, while I tossed and turned, troubled by the confessed crime and my parenting. As usual, I couldn't sleep, so got out of bed at 1am and talked to God (for some reason, I hear Him most clearly at about that time). 2 things happened. Firstly, my helper awoke too and sat down to chat with me. Our casual chat revealed that Maeve's misdeed wasn't an act of naughtiness but really that of excitement and she had apologised profusely to the other little kid. That took a load of my mind as I was envisioning a little ganster in the making.The next was a book that God set my eyes upon, Parenting with Grace and Truth. The book affirmed all that I had been doing with Maeve (before I read the other book) and assured me that my general sense of uneasiness with this new method of parenting and discipline was the appropriate response. It is amazing how God speaks so clearly and specifically to me in the dead of the night. I am CHUCKING that book out as I started parenting with lots of truth and NO grace, and i HATED the mother that I had become on account of that book.
Now, I am parenting and disciplining my usual way, with lots of smiles and kisses for thoughtful action, good behaviour and pretty much ignoring her when she's cranky (instead of punishing) and punishing only for misdeed. We are all much happier and Maeve is back to her cheerful, cheeky self. So the moral of the story? Stop being such an insecure parent and reading all these parenting books! Instead, trust that God has equipped me over the years to do what's best for her.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
2 year olds are egocentric creatures that truely believe they are the sun and we are the planets that revolve around them. I've known this, having studied this in child psychology, but knowing this in theory doesn't stop one from choking in horror as the egocentricity gets played out on a daily basis. This culminated in the penultimate command from the little tyke last week.
"call me god".
"No, I'm not going to and I'd like you to get into the shower"
"say, 'god, please get into the shower'"
"No! And I'm counting to 10. 1..."
"mummy, say 'i'm counting to 10 god' "
That, was last week. This week, beginning with Sunday, has been rather testing, as the little one has decided to, well, let's just say, she has been doing the greek goddess on me. jealousy, tantrum throwing, screaming, pinching, biting, kicking, pushing...the list goes on. In just 3 days, I've had to punish the little goddess multiple times a day and IT GETS BLOODY TIRING! Which makes me ponder, why can't they choose to obey? choose to be good? choose to listen to their parents? The answer is glaringly obvious. We are fallen creatures who have to LEARN to be good, and parents are the agents of change. If we fail to correct, the fallen creature will fall further and it all rests on my small shoulders. And here i am, typing at 1 am, after yet another night interrupted by screaming and crying...i actually can't remember when i had an uninterrupted night's sleep...seems like that happened in another life. The only difference is, tonight i decided to join her and cry with her, and when i started, i couldn't stop. it felt like i hadn't cried for a long time and i needed to get it out of the system. catharsis. I am still an emotional wreck, but typing this makes me feel a lot better. i hope i sleep a lot better after this too.
"call me god".
"No, I'm not going to and I'd like you to get into the shower"
"say, 'god, please get into the shower'"
"No! And I'm counting to 10. 1..."
"mummy, say 'i'm counting to 10 god' "
That, was last week. This week, beginning with Sunday, has been rather testing, as the little one has decided to, well, let's just say, she has been doing the greek goddess on me. jealousy, tantrum throwing, screaming, pinching, biting, kicking, pushing...the list goes on. In just 3 days, I've had to punish the little goddess multiple times a day and IT GETS BLOODY TIRING! Which makes me ponder, why can't they choose to obey? choose to be good? choose to listen to their parents? The answer is glaringly obvious. We are fallen creatures who have to LEARN to be good, and parents are the agents of change. If we fail to correct, the fallen creature will fall further and it all rests on my small shoulders. And here i am, typing at 1 am, after yet another night interrupted by screaming and crying...i actually can't remember when i had an uninterrupted night's sleep...seems like that happened in another life. The only difference is, tonight i decided to join her and cry with her, and when i started, i couldn't stop. it felt like i hadn't cried for a long time and i needed to get it out of the system. catharsis. I am still an emotional wreck, but typing this makes me feel a lot better. i hope i sleep a lot better after this too.
Monday, March 23, 2009
She ain't a baby no more
Where are you going, my little one, little one
Petals and petticoats, where did they go?
Turn around, and then you're two,
Turn around and then you're four
Turn around when ou're a young girl
Going out of the door.
Petals and petticoats, where did they go?
Turn around, and then you're two,
Turn around and then you're four
Turn around when ou're a young girl
Going out of the door.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
creativity
my little storyteller is in her most creative phase at the moment,
telling me a new story almost daily. they usually star some girl (most
of the time, her) taking part in a whole myriad of activities, such as
going to the moon on a balloon, cooking up a huge meal for the queen
etc. Her story last night though, took a dark turn. Here goes (i'm quoting verbatim, so pardon the grammar):
"Once
upon a time, there was a ballerina. She loved to dance so much. One
day, she fell down when she danced. And died. The soldiers came and
hang her on the cross.Theytock her hands and tock tock her feet. It was VERY painful!And then a rainbow lorikeet
fly in the sky and sees her. he said, 'oh my goodness!' and fly again.
he didn't rescue her. Then i came and rescued her. I am the goodSamaritan."
Hmmm....yes,
that was my response. I didn't quite know HOW to respond to that and
wondered if it was time to explain the concept of death,cruxifixion.I guess i DO need to broach the topic, albeit somewhat cautiously. I'm waiting for easter and good friday to come and hopefully the toddler class teachers will teach it. hee! hee!
telling me a new story almost daily. they usually star some girl (most
of the time, her) taking part in a whole myriad of activities, such as
going to the moon on a balloon, cooking up a huge meal for the queen
etc. Her story last night though, took a dark turn. Here goes (i'm quoting verbatim, so pardon the grammar):
"Once
upon a time, there was a ballerina. She loved to dance so much. One
day, she fell down when she danced. And died. The soldiers came and
hang her on the cross.Theytock her hands and tock tock her feet. It was VERY painful!And then a rainbow lorikeet
fly in the sky and sees her. he said, 'oh my goodness!' and fly again.
he didn't rescue her. Then i came and rescued her. I am the goodSamaritan."
Hmmm....yes,
that was my response. I didn't quite know HOW to respond to that and
wondered if it was time to explain the concept of death,cruxifixion.I guess i DO need to broach the topic, albeit somewhat cautiously. I'm waiting for easter and good friday to come and hopefully the toddler class teachers will teach it. hee! hee!
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
hubby
I take lots for granted. Way too much. It always takes an absence to remind me of that. So while hubby is gone, yet again, to a distant land, his presence is always present. Thank you for
1. Pumping the petrol so that I can drive with a full tank and not worry about pumping
2. Checking my wallet now and again to ensure I've got sufficient cash, and topping it up when it is empty
3. Doing all the bill payments and funds transfers so I don't have to even think about it
4. Making sure there's enough money in the cash card so I don't panic
5. Emptying all the smelly bins because you know I hate that job
6. packing all our ministry stuff into one bag so I don't fret and try to locate all the bits and pieces everytime
7. Rushing home to us even though you've got so much work on your plate, and waking up at 4am so you can complete that work while we sleep.
For all this and so much more, thank you.
1. Pumping the petrol so that I can drive with a full tank and not worry about pumping
2. Checking my wallet now and again to ensure I've got sufficient cash, and topping it up when it is empty
3. Doing all the bill payments and funds transfers so I don't have to even think about it
4. Making sure there's enough money in the cash card so I don't panic
5. Emptying all the smelly bins because you know I hate that job
6. packing all our ministry stuff into one bag so I don't fret and try to locate all the bits and pieces everytime
7. Rushing home to us even though you've got so much work on your plate, and waking up at 4am so you can complete that work while we sleep.
For all this and so much more, thank you.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
school
We've been dithering about sending the little one to school. I really love having her at home and i enjoy the process of teaching her in various ways. In fact, my home looks like a school with charts galore, every piece of furniture labeled, little drawers and containers to put various toys...I guess when it comes down to it, i really like playing school with her. While neither of us cares two hoots about whether she knows her ABCs or how well she counts, we DO care about her social development and while giving her plenty of opportunities to interact with children in church and at playdates help to some degree, it is never quite the same when such interactions are supervised.
In other words, we need her to learn to survive in the playground jungle: how to take turns at the slide, tell a bully off, get reckoned with if SHE is the bully, how to initiate friendship and back off when not wanted...these lessons are hard to learn when she is the only child. So much as i would love to homeschool, we feel it necessary to send her off to kindy.So off to kindy she'll go in 2 weeks and although for a mere 3 hours, I'll miss her. hopelessly. She's already told me she doesn't need me in school with her, but I am to wait at the door of her classroom. I am also allowed to peek in occasionally, but i cannot disrupt her class.Baby Rachel (her doll) and a chubba-chub will accompany her in her standard-issue school bag so she's got all the comfort she needs.
So now I'm taking all the chance to do the stuff I won't be able to with her once she starts school, like going to the beach on a weekday morning, playing with the water fountain at Vivo, taking the MRT willy-nilly, losing ourselves in the library at Pasir Ris. I've also bought her white school shoes and pretty white socks, blue ribbons for her hair and a whole host of little treats she'll discover in her school bag. I'm also going to find ways to customise her school bag and uniform. the non-conformist in me cannot stand the concept of uniformity!
In other words, we need her to learn to survive in the playground jungle: how to take turns at the slide, tell a bully off, get reckoned with if SHE is the bully, how to initiate friendship and back off when not wanted...these lessons are hard to learn when she is the only child. So much as i would love to homeschool, we feel it necessary to send her off to kindy.So off to kindy she'll go in 2 weeks and although for a mere 3 hours, I'll miss her. hopelessly. She's already told me she doesn't need me in school with her, but I am to wait at the door of her classroom. I am also allowed to peek in occasionally, but i cannot disrupt her class.Baby Rachel (her doll) and a chubba-chub will accompany her in her standard-issue school bag so she's got all the comfort she needs.
So now I'm taking all the chance to do the stuff I won't be able to with her once she starts school, like going to the beach on a weekday morning, playing with the water fountain at Vivo, taking the MRT willy-nilly, losing ourselves in the library at Pasir Ris. I've also bought her white school shoes and pretty white socks, blue ribbons for her hair and a whole host of little treats she'll discover in her school bag. I'm also going to find ways to customise her school bag and uniform. the non-conformist in me cannot stand the concept of uniformity!
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Last Night. 2am.
I wish I could envelop you in my embrace
Kiss the fears away
Defeat the bad guys (even if the bad guy were me)
Make you smile again.
But I cannot enter the deep, dark crevices of your mind
The secret spaces
Your dreams are yours, and yours alone
I cannot stop the shivering
Ebb the flow of tears
Hold your threshing body as you shout "mummy you dropped me!"
All this with eyes closed, as you cling on desperately in that other world
But I can wrap you up with all of me
Hum your favourite lulluby
Kiss each little tear
As I gently awaken you,your eyes wild, fingers gripping mine tightly
You smile, confused
Your smile, comforting two rapidly beating hearts
You sign for milk, I watch the shadows in the dark
That I can do.
Kiss the fears away
Defeat the bad guys (even if the bad guy were me)
Make you smile again.
But I cannot enter the deep, dark crevices of your mind
The secret spaces
Your dreams are yours, and yours alone
I cannot stop the shivering
Ebb the flow of tears
Hold your threshing body as you shout "mummy you dropped me!"
All this with eyes closed, as you cling on desperately in that other world
But I can wrap you up with all of me
Hum your favourite lulluby
Kiss each little tear
As I gently awaken you,your eyes wild, fingers gripping mine tightly
You smile, confused
Your smile, comforting two rapidly beating hearts
You sign for milk, I watch the shadows in the dark
That I can do.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Why?
the mind of a 2 year old is one of life's great mysteries. sometimes
each thought reaches its eventual conclusion, but mostly, it just loops
about, sometimes orbiting in the grey spaces, sometimes splintering
into 3 separate threads.
A case in point. Morning. the little
one walks about the room, spies a dropped pine nut from her bread,
picks it up, inserts it into right nostril. Thankfully a) she told me
about it; b)it wasn't too deeplylodged, hence, a pressing on the left nostril with a big quick blow saw the pine nut lunge out and hit the wall.
Most
parents of toddlers know that asking a 2 year old "why did you do
that?" is an exercise in futility, but somehow we never seem to learn
and after yet another mysterious infringement, we (okay, I) will always
ask why. the answer is always the same. "Because." Existentialists can
have a field day with that one.
Another case in point. The same day. Afternoon.I brought the little one for lunch out at T3, Popeye's.
Sat her in a normal chair (not a high-chair anymore, she resents those
now) and we settled down to munch on our deep fried, highcholesterol chicken. A littler one walked past and our chicken muncher nonchalantly
sticks out a leg and almost succeeds in tripping the one year old. No
expression. No look of glee or mischief. No look of horror (That came
from me). It was almost a scientific experiment. What happens when I
stick out my leg when someone walks past? It was only when she saw my
face, that she realised the action was definitely NOT COOL. Before I
could start my lecture probably entitled "Evil", the dear one asked,
"that was naughty?"
Grunt.
"I should apologise".
Grunt.
the
little now contrite one climbs down from her chair, goes about 3 tables
away to the almost-tripped baby and, gasp! apologises to the whole
family for tripping their baby!! I watched this 3 tables away as she
pats the baby's hand, elicits forgiveness, then skips back to me, a
heart lightened by forgiveness.
As I said, the mind of a 2 year old is unfathomable.
each thought reaches its eventual conclusion, but mostly, it just loops
about, sometimes orbiting in the grey spaces, sometimes splintering
into 3 separate threads.
A case in point. Morning. the little
one walks about the room, spies a dropped pine nut from her bread,
picks it up, inserts it into right nostril. Thankfully a) she told me
about it; b)it wasn't too deeplylodged, hence, a pressing on the left nostril with a big quick blow saw the pine nut lunge out and hit the wall.
Most
parents of toddlers know that asking a 2 year old "why did you do
that?" is an exercise in futility, but somehow we never seem to learn
and after yet another mysterious infringement, we (okay, I) will always
ask why. the answer is always the same. "Because." Existentialists can
have a field day with that one.
Another case in point. The same day. Afternoon.I brought the little one for lunch out at T3, Popeye's.
Sat her in a normal chair (not a high-chair anymore, she resents those
now) and we settled down to munch on our deep fried, highcholesterol chicken. A littler one walked past and our chicken muncher nonchalantly
sticks out a leg and almost succeeds in tripping the one year old. No
expression. No look of glee or mischief. No look of horror (That came
from me). It was almost a scientific experiment. What happens when I
stick out my leg when someone walks past? It was only when she saw my
face, that she realised the action was definitely NOT COOL. Before I
could start my lecture probably entitled "Evil", the dear one asked,
"that was naughty?"
Grunt.
"I should apologise".
Grunt.
the
little now contrite one climbs down from her chair, goes about 3 tables
away to the almost-tripped baby and, gasp! apologises to the whole
family for tripping their baby!! I watched this 3 tables away as she
pats the baby's hand, elicits forgiveness, then skips back to me, a
heart lightened by forgiveness.
As I said, the mind of a 2 year old is unfathomable.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
discerning the heart of God
Parenthood gives me a peek into the heart of God in a way that I've never seen before but probably hypothesised over a million times. Every time the little one chooses not to do as she's told, even after a few reminders,I see the stark reality of sin and feel the disappointment and knowledge of what is to come. When punishment is meted out and the little one stands alone in the corner, separated by a gulf so wide, filled with pain, hurt and the anxiety of separation on her part, and overwhelming sorrow on mine, i feel God's heart. The times i deliberately hurt and disobey God, i ignore Him when He calls, i choose apathy rather than passion, God has to put me in the corner so that i can reconcile myself with Him eventually. The reality of the cross also becomes starking as i see the little one run across the threshold, straight into my arms, weeping and apologising, reconciling herself to me.That cross on our floor, where Jesus streched Himself out on, so that we can run on, to reconcile ourselves to our Heavenly Father.
Yesterday was particularly trying, when i had to punish 3 times for non compliance, this coupled with an old gastric problem acting up after many years of remission. But there is always the sweetness after where the little one "massaged" my tummy, laid hands on it and prayed for "jesus to make mummy better", after which she planted many little kisses all over me. Like my daughter, I too need to learn how to be sweet and plant little kisses on God after making God sad.
Yesterday was particularly trying, when i had to punish 3 times for non compliance, this coupled with an old gastric problem acting up after many years of remission. But there is always the sweetness after where the little one "massaged" my tummy, laid hands on it and prayed for "jesus to make mummy better", after which she planted many little kisses all over me. Like my daughter, I too need to learn how to be sweet and plant little kisses on God after making God sad.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
discipline
I've been thinking about discipline methods of late.
of course, coinciding with the REAL characteristics of a 2 year old emerging. the knee high little person, while ever more charming and irresistable, is also showing signs of open defiance, which of course, must be nipped in the bud. the tool of nipping though, is what forms the crux of hubby and my on-going discussion. so far, the "stand in the corner" method does work rather well as it involves us ignoring her for 2 mins and she cannot bear to be ignored. this always results in a tsunami of tears and promises that the naughty deed will not be repeated again. but of course, if it doesn't occur again in the next few hours, then surely the next day, by which time, I will be tempted to do the one-strike-and-you're-out. So I'm wondering if it is because the method of punishment is not memorable enough or if toddlers just have short memories and that i'm expecting too much too soon. If the little one can do the stomp-the-ground-with-one-foot-arms-akimbo-glare quite well, who knows what shannanigans she'll be up to when she's older! And I certainly don't even want to consider the possibility of a defiant teen in my home.
So, nip it in the bud. which brought our conversation to the reality of corporal punishment, which we both felt strongly about. hubby's take is, smacking her for hitting someone doesn't make sense. so she can't hit, but adults can?? such irony! I also envision having to smack myself a few times first to decide on the correct pressure. too hard, it will traumatise. too light, there will be no impact. and where to smack? hands? bum? legs? i guess our parents didn't think about this too much or wring their hands like what I'm doing now. they just bought a cane and whacked as hard as they could, as long as they could find the cane and grab us before we escaped! But we've both come to the sobering possibility that we might have to start smacking if the open defiance becomes, well, more open.
so today, i'm going to find my wooden mixing spoon and try for intensity. the warning in all books is, do not hit when you are angry. smack only when you are calm and can speak in a calm, collected manner, or else, risk hitting out of anger and becoming abusive. that is all wonderful, but the reality is, the anger, is what causes parents to pick up the cane,spoon, whatever, in the first place! so it looks like,
1. child misbehaves
2. parent gets angry.
3. parent goes somewhere else, counts to ten and breathes. stays zen.
4. parent tells misbehaved that she will be punished in calm voice.
5. parent meets out punishment.
6. child is contrite. hopefully. (although from experience, i believe child will be furious for being whacked and will stay angry at parent, at least for a while.until parent apologies for whacking child in the first place!)
so, really, i'm none the wiser. Will try immediate punishment (stand-in-the-corner) at naughty behaviour first, rather than provide warning, and if that doesn't reduce defiance, the spoon will make its debut.
of course, coinciding with the REAL characteristics of a 2 year old emerging. the knee high little person, while ever more charming and irresistable, is also showing signs of open defiance, which of course, must be nipped in the bud. the tool of nipping though, is what forms the crux of hubby and my on-going discussion. so far, the "stand in the corner" method does work rather well as it involves us ignoring her for 2 mins and she cannot bear to be ignored. this always results in a tsunami of tears and promises that the naughty deed will not be repeated again. but of course, if it doesn't occur again in the next few hours, then surely the next day, by which time, I will be tempted to do the one-strike-and-you're-out. So I'm wondering if it is because the method of punishment is not memorable enough or if toddlers just have short memories and that i'm expecting too much too soon. If the little one can do the stomp-the-ground-with-one-foot-arms-akimbo-glare quite well, who knows what shannanigans she'll be up to when she's older! And I certainly don't even want to consider the possibility of a defiant teen in my home.
So, nip it in the bud. which brought our conversation to the reality of corporal punishment, which we both felt strongly about. hubby's take is, smacking her for hitting someone doesn't make sense. so she can't hit, but adults can?? such irony! I also envision having to smack myself a few times first to decide on the correct pressure. too hard, it will traumatise. too light, there will be no impact. and where to smack? hands? bum? legs? i guess our parents didn't think about this too much or wring their hands like what I'm doing now. they just bought a cane and whacked as hard as they could, as long as they could find the cane and grab us before we escaped! But we've both come to the sobering possibility that we might have to start smacking if the open defiance becomes, well, more open.
so today, i'm going to find my wooden mixing spoon and try for intensity. the warning in all books is, do not hit when you are angry. smack only when you are calm and can speak in a calm, collected manner, or else, risk hitting out of anger and becoming abusive. that is all wonderful, but the reality is, the anger, is what causes parents to pick up the cane,spoon, whatever, in the first place! so it looks like,
1. child misbehaves
2. parent gets angry.
3. parent goes somewhere else, counts to ten and breathes. stays zen.
4. parent tells misbehaved that she will be punished in calm voice.
5. parent meets out punishment.
6. child is contrite. hopefully. (although from experience, i believe child will be furious for being whacked and will stay angry at parent, at least for a while.until parent apologies for whacking child in the first place!)
so, really, i'm none the wiser. Will try immediate punishment (stand-in-the-corner) at naughty behaviour first, rather than provide warning, and if that doesn't reduce defiance, the spoon will make its debut.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Of roles and characters
Just as method actors live their parts to get immersed in the role, the little actress in my house does too. Although she doesn't quite do the accent and all, she plays her role quite seriously. As little mermaid, she spent a copious amount of time slithering on the floor, asking us "grant me legs!" or "rescue me!" as she has no legs you see. as pochohontas, she implores us not to marry her off and badgers is to bring her on a ship to see "john smith". well, we did just that, in fact, 2 "ships"--the duck tour boat, and the hippo which runs along clark quay. While cruising past some dragon boaters along kallang river, our pochohontas shouted out to them, "hello brave warriors!". these brave warriors waved back but i'm sure they would have puffed up in pride, if they heard what they were called!
These few days, she answers to "Tim" (one of the 5 performers in hi-5) and of course, mum and dad have to take on the other characters accordingly. I'm called "kelly" and bern's called "nathan". What that means is, she won't brush her teeth unless you say "tim, come and brush your teeth", and she'll reply most sweetly "sure, kelly!" I'm not sure who I'll have to play next, but for now, I'm reading her lots of other stories that don't star some female with no legs and such.
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