Asian Tiger mum versus liberal Western mum

I have been reading The Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mum and its so delicious, I would have read it in one sitting if not for the nightmares of both kids that had me running into both rooms one after the other and soothing them back to sleep. And since I've soothed them, now I can't sleep as I'm thinking about what the author's been writing about. Given the loose stereotypes she's working with, I believe I fall firmly into the Western mum model: I celebrate any achievement, no matter how mediocre, I don't push either academically and time spent after school for older one involves playing in both structured and unstructured fashions. Worksheets? Assessment books? what's that?? We spend more time gazing at the sky, looking at cloud formations then we do, writing ABCs. As for my little one, she can't speak still at 14 months but is fantastic with sign language. Am I worried? Not really, although I believe many parents will be. My Tiger mum mother told me that SHE couldn't speak at 3, and the dam burst and she outalked all her siblings after, and still does, so Paige not speaking is really no big deal.

And then came the chinese teacher.

Maeve's school has no chinese teacher yet, and given that she was away from school most of last year, her chinese education is, well, elementary at best. So, I'm trying out this chinese teacher that her cousin is using. And said teacher told me in no uncertain terms, "your daughter is extremely active, and precocious", "my chinese class became a gymnastics class as she rolled around on the floor most of the time", "she has no focus and cannot concentrate, she will be misunderstood when she goes to primary one (i think the subtext here is, she will be sent to the principal's office a lot for disruptive behaviour)".....the lecture was one hour long, I kid not. At the end, I needed repentence, absolution and and self-flegelation for being such a lousy lax parent who would produce an unmotivated, underachieving child, and it will be squarely MY FAULT. I have been thinking hard about her words, which also echo that of Amy Chua, author of the Tiger Mum book. Would that really happen? Will my children be mediocre because I didn't push them hard enough? I don't know as I'm still mulling over it. Which brings me to MY MUM.

Tiger mum extraodinaire.

I think all parents that generation are. I remember saturdays were always spent at Bras Basah Complex, sniffing out all manner of assessment books. When I was 12, I had a record of 70 of those books, some were repeats of course, that mum forgot she bought. The funny thing was, I was also really secretly a tiger cub at heart, although the outward manifestations are those of the rebel without a cause. I did the lot, faster then mum could grade them, and spent most of my primary school years bored with lessons. I also enjoyed exams as I finished them pretty quickly, most of which were already tackled in said assessment books. The feeling of success was intoxicating.

So the question I'm mulling over is, why did i not become a Tiger mum myself? Why have I gone all lax and liberal, favouring playtime over any kind of homework? I think the motivating factor is the insatiable desire to give my kids the sort of childhood I probably would have wanted. To produce inquisitive, knowledge-thirsty, challenging-the-status-quo, kind of kids. I am not that. I am the product of my education system unfortunately, and those of my generation learnt passively. Or rather, I have been punished often enough not to challenge the norm. At the same time, the tiger instincts have also pushed me beyond what I was and am intellectually capable of. I probably wouldn't have gone to the schools I went to if I didn't/and wasn't put on punishing academic routines. Refer to said assessment books again.

So, now, I have accepted that the primary school still demands a fair amount of sitting down and learning passively and I have (no choice) but to prepare Maeve for that. Unless the new education minister changes that, she will have to conform to the aural, visual style of learning (she is a kinesthetic learner and learns best through active movement, as demonstrated by her rolling on the floor at her first chinese tuition session). Anyways, this week, I've started her on the sit-at-the-table-do-this-worksheet-together kind of thing and I'm not sure who has more cause to weep. So through lots of threats, emotional blackmails, plus cane visually on display, we managed to go through a few pages of math and english, and practising the writing of her chinese name.

"mummy, why didn't you choose an easier name?"
"I went for meaning, now let's try again, one raindrop, one tree trunk, a leaf, rabbit ears..."
" couldn't you just choose a few boxes and just a pair of rabbit ears?"
"Focus! Now, let's try, one raindrop..."
" I had it with raindrops in my name. Send the lighting bolt!"

so we made it through the week. But I'm not sure how long I can last as this educating her this way doesn't seem fun at all and is causing tears on both sides and probably high blood pressure too, but i realise that if I don't succeed in getting her to practice sitting still and writing her name or whatever it is she doesn't like to do, she may truely become an underachiever. So, I'm going to give this method a try for as long as it takes me to produce some result, good or bad, before I re-strategise.

The end of a long long road

Come the end of May, our journey, started in June last year, will officially come to an end, with Maeve's surgery to remove her port-a-cath. She no longer needs it as she has been cancer-free for 6 months, the critical time period for a relapse of her kind of cancer. I am so looking forward to the removal as it has been a constant and painful reminder for me and many nights are filled with sheer terror of a possible relapse. When it gets removed, I can once again see her as a normal child, I don't have to fear her getting hit by a ball at play, falling face down if she trips, the sort of thing that all 4 year olds, especially high energy ones like mine, are capable of. More importantly, I can LET MY GUARD DOWN! I'm now trying to prepare her for her surgery, that is, mentally, going through the steps with her, so that in 3 weeks time, she'll be so familiar with it, she won't be fearful.

As I reflect on this entire journey, I realise that the one thing that stood out most for me, was the fact that God was in control of the entire situation, even if I wasn't. He probably would have loved to tell me, "do not fear, for I love you", but I was too distraught, no, traumatised, to even listen. So, God sent His earthly angels, friends, ex-colleagues, students, family, to pour out an immense amount of love upon us. While I was fearful, I never doubted how loved we were as a family. Truely, through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for thou art with me. This year, I am also devouring the bible, like a parched woman in the desert as I never want to feel far away from God anymore, or that I'll have to handle another crisis on my own. I realise, when really pushed to the brink, I come up short, that I have such little faith, choosing instead to trust in what I see literally. A little like King Ahaz in Isaiah I guess, and he's a pretty lousy king.

I'm going to keep the port, after it is removed, as a constant reminder, so that I'll never get too apathetic, too comfortable, too full of confidence in myself, that I forget God or His mercy.

So if you're reading this blog entry, pray with us for a smooth surgery and that my little one will be brave. As it is, she has decided she doesn't want children next time, as "I don't want the doctor to cut me up" (both my kids came out via C-section!).

Make-a-wish fundraising

Ever since our lovely party thrown by Make-aWish Foundation last year, we've been thinking of how we could pay it forward, so hubby and I signed up as volunteers this year, so that we could also help make another child's wish come true.

Our first project as volunteers was to raise funds, so we did it at the NATAS travel fair this year. I must admit it wasn't easy (not that i thought it would be) as unlike previous fundraising efforts where we could go around with a tin on our own, put on our thick-skins and solicit, this time, we had our preschooler with us and we were very conscious of what we did and said and how we explained things. So, with our bag of goodies and donation bags (each donation bag carried Maeve's face, how cool is that!), we walked round the entire fair, with a smile on our faces and hope in our hearts. We had some wonderful ladies who not only donated, also stopped to chat with Maeve and wished her well and that helped us continue despite a million rejections.

Would you like to donate? These funds help grant wishes to very sick children.

No.

That's ok, have a good day.

Would you like to make a difference to the life of critically ill children?

No.

Would you..

No.

Mummy, why don't they want to help sick children?

Mummy, if they can spend money on holidays? why can't they give a little to help children like me? Mummy, why don't they care?

Mummy, why do you say thank you when they didn't donate?

Mummy, uncles are not very nice.

I must admit it was harder answering Maeve's questions than it was dealing with rejection. I knew we will be rejected most of the time, that's just how it is with singaporeans, but I forgot to prepare answers for the above questions and my answers were pretty lame.

Honey, they DO want to help, just not yet.

Darling, maybe they've donated to something else already.

Sweetie, many uncles are hard of hearing, so they didn't hear us when we asked for donations. Aunties have better ears.

All in all however, it was a great experience as my little one had to walk around for 6 hrs without being carried, learn to ask for donations, handle rejection, interact with other volunteers and catch some great cultural performances from all over the world. One snag though: (while watching the Brazillian dancers) mummy, why are they dancing in their panties and bras? I can see all their bum bums!

Now, that's another lesson in itself!

The learning journey.....well, that in many ways. I've learnt that children, unlike adults (okay, unlike me), live by an ordered, structured world where they would like to know what to expect, and what's coming up next. That's why timetables are notoriously successful, for most of the under 6 set.(okay, for most normal people above 6 too) Unfortunately, my 2 little ones have a mother who thrives in absolute chaos and lives from one inspired moment to the next...which does not fly by them obviously. it sort of worked when Maeve was younger, after all, every day was a new experience, and she had my undivided attention, so if mummy decides we'll do counting in the airport on monday, botany in the park on tuesday and word recognition on wednesday, taking random walks, so be it. However, and a BIG HOWEVER, now there's 2, and big sis has to also abide my small sis' nap schedule! So in order for everyone to get less antsy and argumentative, a certain sense of order is in order. So I have decided to re-educate myself, hence, my learning journey. This time round, I have planned (ever so roughly) how each day should feel like, ie. a fixed time to play, to learn, to exercise, and...this is where the teacher-in-me comes about, a day to do Learning Journeys! So once a week, we'll take a little excursion to some part of the country and we'll learn about the history of the place, the geography around it, throw in some math (how many steps to the next landmark?), a little pre-school competition (who can find the way to this place? Check the MRT map!), and silly excuses to tell her incredible, made-up tales about the place. Hee! Hee! Of course, we'll always culminate in a little art or writing (draw the scene, write a story about the people who might have lived here...in case anyone's wondering, she's not so advanced as to be able to spell the lot, the ever patient parent has to spell each word, however LOOOONNGG the story).

So what's my learning journey from the Learning Journey? Well, that I have way too much fun for a respectable mid-30s mother of 2, that I am actually really 12 years old (after all, only 12 year olds wave at tourists and tell them to beware of crocodiles in the Singapore River!), that I'm learning as much about my country as my little one, that it is not easy finding your way out of certain MRT stations, that my little girl cannot count beyond 29. Still. That it is very hard to locate caterpillars, no matter how long we stare at various plant life. That there are many cracks on pavements all over the country (that could alternatively house small people or be the prelude to an earthquake, depending on mood of pre-schooler) Most of all, I've learnt that it is truely wonderful to be young and amazed by everything around you and that I should do likewise.

So now to plan for the rest of our learning journeys and to suss out exciting places that would charm a 4 year old that doesn't involve parting with huge amounts of cash.

Runaway kid

My little one has once again threatened to run away from home. Reason being, she got scolded.

You DON'T love me.
I do, but I don't appreciate the rudeness.
(4 year old teenager throws herself sobbing onto the bed)
When there is nary a response from me, she rummages around for a bag, packs some spoons, cooking masak massak toys, 1 scarf and a toy phone. Then comes out of the room, puts on shoes.
Where are you going young lady?
I'm running away from home.
Okay, and where are you going to run away too?
Malaysia.
How?
I'm going on a pegasus. (flying horse by the way)
Hmm...and how will you survive in Malaysia?
I'll get money from Cambodia and then I can buy food.
(Stomps around, trying to find her pretend money)
Ah...and when you poo in Malaysia, who's going to clean your bum?

*jackpot*

Okay, I'll stay here with you, but only for a while. But you must apologise for scolding me.
I can't, because you deserved the scolding.
(huge sobs again)
You want me to cruxify myself first before you're happy?

sigh....the future of teenage-hood seems to loom large. I wonder if little boys do this or do they just throw a tantrum, get a few smacks and off they go to play? little girls are a force to deal with!

2011

Its a brand new year! I always get excited at the start of the year...new possibilities, new dreams, a 2nd chance...this year, I have decided that it'll be a year of blessings. Yes, I am not God, but this is what I've told Him. Last year really sucked, big time. So I really need Him to reassure me of His love, His pampering, the way a father does when his little girl just got bullied AND fell into a puddle of water at the same time. I guess I've been really tired out and feel like I've been wrung out to dry/spinning in a washing machine/both. This year, I've decided to go back to the gym, spend time pursuing something I love--right now, its a 3 way toss up between sewing, writing and learning to paint. Of course, this year will also be an extremely busy year with Paige crusing all over the shop and Maeve going to kindy. I'm trying to get her to practice writing her small letters to no avail. Have told her if she keeps writing in caps, everyone will think she's shouting. does she bother? of course not. She's 4 going on 14. why would she?

On another note, we came back from this month's check up a little more comforted. Although it wasn't very pleasant to access her port (she struggled and cried), a mentos after cheered her up considerably, AND our oncologist said that if the scan on the 21st of this month shows she's in the clear, then the chances of a relapse are like 0.1%. woo-hoo!!!! AND the port can be removed by the end of the year if we so wished. Oh yes, we so wish very much indeed! So I guess after this pet-scan, my alert mode can drop substantially. So please continue to pray for an all-clear this 21st. We scheduled it on the 21st as we've got a wedding of a dear student to attend on the 22nd and we're going to use it as a reward for her. ie. "go through the painful procedure and you'll get to attend the wedding!" she loves weddings so we hope that will be sufficient incentive to help her brave it through. And yes, we also told her we'll ask all to pray that her veins in her little hand will widen significantly so that it'll be less painful when the radioactive contrast goes in. She screamed in sheer agony the last time as they had to push quite hard to get the liquid in given her eensy weensy tiny veins.

Tomorrow my brave princess goes to a new school. A brand new start. New teacher, new friends. She's excited, I'm nervous. Nervous that the other children will laugh at her lack of hair or make mean remarks. I'd like to say that I believe in the inherent goodness of children, but unfortunately, the inherent goodness also means complete truthfulness without kindness (unless taught at home). Case in point, we were at a cafe with a playground having a lovely lazy breakfast one morning while Maeve played and swung and climbed. A little girl, a little older, took one look at my bald child and hooted to her little friends to "come see an ugly bald girl"! Didn't know if I should slap her or her (in this case) grandparents, who did squat to remedy the situation. So with trepidation and lots of prayer, I send my precious one to school tomorrow, praying she'll have a swell time, laugh lots and make some friends.

check-up

Its been a month since our last check up, and things are almost back to normal. We thought each check up involved only her routine finger prick, but alas, now we know, it also involves the flushing of her port with heparin. So every month, the nurses will have to access the port to draw blood as well as flush it with heparin. Thankfully, she was busy playing with my i-phone, so that kept her distracted while the awful needle went in. Both Bern and I winced as it brought back reminders of her non-stop chemo sessions not too long ago. During the check-up with our oncologist, we were also told that we had to schedule her next Pet-CT scan in January. Of course I had to ask the question that had been on my mind--what is the percentage of relapse for Burkitt's? 5-10% we were told. That was supposed to give us comfort, but for some reason, it didn't. I guess what I wanted Prof Quah to say was, 5-10%, but we've never seen a relapse yet! Or something like that. But he didn't. He just informed us that if it were to come back, it would do so within the first two months. that was how aggressive Burkitt's is. We are past the 2 month mark and the next scan will really tell us what we need to know about the chance of relapse.

I had lunch with our case worker not too long ago and told her how I still can't sleep, still can't help worrying and being on high alert mode. She asked me how long I was going to be on this mode. 3 months? 1 year? 5 years? The truth is, once there is cancer, there is always the chance it might come back and I'm not sure I dare to let my guard down. The what-ifs are all too real. I know I have to release my little girl to God and release all my fears and let God be in control. right now, I'm not sure I know how to. Intellectually, yes. Emotionally? Am not so sure. its easy to sing a whole list of platitudes about trust, but the reality is not that simple, although you must give me full marks for trying! So it is a daily surrender that I have to do. A worry, a confession. A tear, a prayer. When I get that look, my little girl will tell me, "mummy, stop hyperventilating!" Indeed. My little girl, my rock.