Reflections after sickness

I had a very bad Urinary Tract Infection (UTI) few days ago. I'm still on antibiotic today. At it's worst, the pain was so bad, I could hardly walk and when I collected urine sample at the General Practitioner's (GP) clinic, my urine is red - not pink but RED. It was so scary. The pain was awful. I never had UTI that hurts so much when I pee. I never had UTI that hurts so much that my lower abdomen aches when I walk. I was also running a fever.

I started to worry that it may be more than UTI. Maybe it's really something less benign than UTI - like bladder cancer. 

There are many things in life that we have no control over, like death - like when we die and how we die. My colleague who is a doctor asked me to do some test. I think I should. 

I started to think about God when I think about death. I hope that when I leave this body one day, I will be able to go back to where God is. I hope to think of death as a reborn into another world, where I become, once again, a little baby, snuggling in God's warm embrace. In the back of my mind, I seem to have memories of such warm, loving, unconditional love and care. Such memories often fill my eyes with tears. God's embrace is like telling me, "It's ok, I know what you are, who you are and I see your imperfections, but here, in my bosom, you are safe from the hurt and the troubles of the World. It is safe to be dependent. It is alright to be needy." Perhaps such warm memories stem from my infancy, when my mother held me and I felt her love unconditionally, like God's love. 

As a baby, we are dependent on our parents but as we grow older, we are exposed more and more to the harshness of the world and we depend more on ourselves. As we grow even older, we have to care for and be responsible for others. These burdens rest on our shoulders like weights. We have to adopt some grown up thoughts and behaviours, just so we can carry these burdens and move on. Sometimes we put down our weights and we become children again, praying and being with God.

In my youth, I used to believe that being right is the most important. Now, I believe being kind is more important. There are many ways that people can prove that they are right. There are many rights in this world. But if I make the choice to be kind, my choice will be indisputably mine. Being kind does not mean I will be a pushover and I will not stand up for myself. On the contrary, being kind means that I will put others before myself, and if I have to say something or do something, it must be for their benefit, and not just to save guard my own benefit and pleasure. If I must stand up for myself for the other person's benefit, to show him that bullying is wrong, then it is an act of kindness. It matters how I do it and why I do it. I generally hate conflicts because I hate knowing people being hurt. Others cannot be hurt, I cannot be hurt too. A lesson has to be learnt and it is beautiful if the bully can learn it in a positive way. 

I wish before I die, I can do meaningful things. I hope the footprints that I leave behind will be one of significance and of positive influence.

Book Review: Blink Once by Cylin Busby

I like this young adult novel. Good read for a teenager. It is engaging enough, not long winded, and the characters are seventeen year olds, pretty close to heart for teenage readers. I finished this book within two days.

Warning: Spoiler ahead

I like how the author keeps readers in suspense on who Olivia is. At some points, I thought she might be a ghost inhabiting the Hospital, and at other times I thought she might turn out to be a psychopath whose love will turn into hatred and she might smother West to death before he has his operation. I also like how the author weaves in short snippets of events that give us a sense of each character’s personality – the mother who believed in West until the end, the father who stayed away but who willingly return for his child, the crazy best friend who cared for West more than he showed, the teenage girlfriend who reacted to West’s coma like most any teenager would, the dedicated Nurse and the psychologist who is eager to prove the theory that she knows. The people in this story are people- not evil (except the psychopath who assaulted Oliver), not angels but normal people like you and I. I like how that story made them out to be so. West’s subtle and life-changing thoughts that gradually forms over time are clearly and vividly portrayed. I think West will grow up to be a fine young man, and he will grow old as a wise grandfatherly person. He might even volunteer or give inspirational speeches.

Someone make this book into a movie, please.

I really enjoy going to the library. As a working mother of two who takes full responsibility of the children once they are off the hands of the day-carers – their grandparents, I have a hectic schedule and limited time for self-care. Pursuing personal interests seemed like a thing of the past for me. 2011 is a life changing year for me. Ever since my first little one appeared, nothing is the same anymore. So when I walk into the library and pick up these books to read, it’s a lovely experience. I love the Zen kind of peace and calm when I walk into the library. There are information and knowledge and creativity everywhere, and the choice is mine. These books are there, calling out for me to pick them up to read. The library is a transient getaway from the home filled with chaos and noise of children – yes, I am amazed how two children can fill the house with so much chaos and noise. Unlike a bookstore, the books are free, the information and the creativity are free, which spares up so much worries for a financially tight mother. In short, I love the library.

Don’t put all your eggs into one basket – It does matter, also, what baskets you have

I read in a parenting book for parents/caregivers of Highly Sensitive Children (HSC) written by psychologist Prof Elaine Aron, that children's brain are wired in childhood, mostly before 3 years old. They will be wired to categorise their experiences into “events” or into “good and bad”. People who are depressed often categorise things into “good” basket or “bad” basket. Eg: They try out a new skill - basketball. They didn’t do well several times and were criticised. They put “basketball” into the “bad basket” and they think “I am lousy because I fail at basketball.” People who are not depressed categorise experiences into “Sports”, “Academic”, “Family”, “Friends”,etc. In each category, there is good and there is bad. Eg: They try out a new skill - basketball. They didn’t do well several times and were criticised, they put “Basketball” under sports and they think “I don’t do well at basketball, maybe it’s not for me, but I have ‘academic’ and ‘family’ and ‘friends’ which I am good at in several ways.”

Most of these “wiring” happens in childhood but that does not mean it cannot happen in adulthood. It’s just that in adulthood, it is harder to change. That is why children learn new things and adapt to new environment faster than adults. If adults want to “rewire”, they have to put in more effort and in some cases, if they too emotionally affected by the childhood experiences (due to trauma or depression) they have to receive therapy to help themselves “rewire”.

The psychologist said she often see adult patients and she worked with them to re-wire their brain which requires long, dedicated therapy and of course comes with a hefty bill. She said if we, as parents, built up our children’s self-esteem and “wire their brain right” in the beginning, it can save them a lot of heartache and troubles going for therapy to get their life back in shape.

If they are regularly criticised or given a global label, eg: "You are a naughty girl!" or "You are stupid." or "Why are you always so clumsy?", these labels will encourage them to categorise all that they meet and do into the “bad” and “good” category. They will think “I am all bad because I cannot do this.” That’s why we have to change the way we say from “You are a naughty girl” to “This is a very naughty behaviour.” In this way we target the behaviour, not the person, and we can further set a target to change the behaviour.

I use this for my children and I can see the change in my daughter. My daughter is more stubborn and cannot control her temper. She often hit her brother when she’s moody or angry, even when her brother did not provoke her. I often made the mistake of saying “Mei, you are so naughty!” Now I have changed it to “Mei, hitting is a naughty behaviour. If people do naughty things, they go to naughty corner.” After making sure she understands, I’ll always hug her and explain to her. Yesterday she scratched Kieran and made him cry. She cried because I made her stand in the naughty corner. Kieran was sad but he, as kind as usual, told me to hug mei mei bcoz she was crying. I asked Kieran whether his cheek was still painful. He said, “No.” I asked whether his heart hurts. He said, “Yes.” I explained to Caitlin that if u hit people, people’s heart will hurt, even long after the physical wound stops hurting. I told her if you hit Gor gor, Gor gor will cry, I will also cry because I love Gor gor. She is better at control now. She will lose control when she’s over tired which was what happened yesterday. Caitlin may not undertand now although I hope one day, she will. But I’m sure Kieran understood that I understand him and I hope he felt understood enough to forgive and continue to love his sister.

Magical Bonding

Children have the power to weave magic into our souls. They may be mischievous and require some disciplining at times but none of their acts are done with malicious intent. In fact even the naughtiest act are done with the purest of heart. I treasure every bonding opportunity I have with them.

On sunny Saturday, we went to give mooncakes to our relatives, visit my mother in law, and let the children enjoy playing sand and playground at park near her flat. We enjoyed our day thoroughly. My brother in law drove us home. Hubby showed brother in law his new curved computer monitor. I made a DIY lantern with Kieran. At night, I hugged both my little ones to sleep.

On Sunday, we went to watch Paw Patrol live at City Square Mall, ate ice cream waffle, drink Chamomile tea, bought Iron man shirt and pants for Kieran whose pee got onto his clothes when daddy brought him to pee (I’m going to be the one to bring him to the toilet, next time we go out), bought Frisbee and swimsuit and googles for the children at Decathlon, went home for recharge and dinner, then for lantern festival organized by RC (Residential Committee). Lanterns of all shapes and colours and music light up the way. Little Caitlin was frightened when we walked along the Waterway carrying lanterns. She said the water was black and the sky was black. I carried her and spoke to her as we walk. She needed me and my closeness reassured her. She threw a big tantrum when we stop by a café to rest. She was angry that the Milo was hot, angry that I drank her Milo and angry with basically everything. She was overtired. Daddy took her aside and spoke to her firmly. Kieran cried. He tried to cover daddy’s mouth when he was speaking firmly to Caitlin. I took him away and he cried, saying that he need to go and save his sister. So both stood and cried together. It was hilarious. Hubby and I laughed despite feeling hot and frustrated.

On the way home, Caitlin had fallen asleep and we tried to keep her asleep but she woke up as we wiped her down. She giggled and played with Kieran for a while before they finally become sleepy. Kieran said he was so tired, he felt giddy. He lay beside me in bed and talked to me tiredly. Caitlin has fallen asleep. I told him to go to sleep and he would feel better tomorrow morning. He turned around to hug his bolster. I kissed his cheek and said goodnight. He hugged me and fell asleep. That was an ordinarily magical night.

On cool and breezy Monday, which is a public holiday, we woke up late, and we went to visit the children’s grand aunt at her condominium. We went swimming with the new swim suit and googles that we bought. The children both love and fear the water. Caitlin accidentally fell into the water and I scooped her up almost immediately. I read up on silent drowning and dry drowning and I’m certainly not going to take chances. I am going to keep my eyes on both as much as I could. Their gleeful faces and surprise at the almost novel experience in the water were recorded as the most pleasant memory in my mind. The memory isn’t all pleasant for Caitlin who whispered to me at night that she does not want to go swimming. Right after we pulled them out of the water to go for lunch, she had happily announced that she want to come back swimming again. I told her, “That’s because you are sad now, so you remembered the sad things about swimming. You are sad because mummy scolded you for scratching gor gor, and this made you think about sad things like falling into the water and having water in your nose during the swim. Not all that happened are sad. I caught you quickly when you fell and I hugged you tight. Remember?” I saw her lips moved up slightly in a smile, and I imagined her remembering the fun and the hug. I kissed her goodnight.

She had scratched Kieran because he was talking beside her on the bed, and she was in a bad mood. I put her in the naughty corner and hugged poor Kieran. Kieran told me to go and hug Mei mei because she was crying. I asked him does it still hurt. He said no. I asked him whether his heart hurts. He said yes. I told Mei mei, “You should not hit people or scratch people even if you are very angry. You can can voice out that you are angry but you cannot hit. When the pain goes away, the heart will still hurt. The hurt in the heart don’t go away quickly.” Kieran understood that I understand and he felt much better. I don’t know whether Mei Mei understood but I hope one day she will, and she will learn to control her temper.

We do not deal violence with violence. We don’t act on impulses. Because we are adults, we are the role models. We manage violence with love and compassion. Children’s brains are constantly learning and wiring and re-wiring to learn the ropes of the world. They have to learn through us that kind words and actions are what heals, not enforcement, punishment and violence.

I hugged both children to sleep. Mei mei was woken up by frightening nightmares a few times. I held her in my arms and she fell asleep, reassured. The nights with my beloved children are the most treasured and important. Daddy and I stressed to complete our pre-bedtime routine – the oatmilk, the brushing of teeth, changing of PJs, the 5 min allowance to play, the pee and poo, etc. Then bedtime is the magical moment. We read stories, we conjured our own stories, we chatted, we sang, we whispered secrets to each other.

I see from their eyes that they need me, they want me, they are with me, and those are enough reasons to go on.

About my preschoolers

Caitlin, my little princess is finally three. Kieran is coming to five. I've been a mother for five years. Motherhood has been a long roller coaster ride. Life is a journey of self discovery but motherhood kind of expedited the process.

A while ago, I went to Clark Quay and I had the fortune to sit by the river and watch the boats of tourists ride pass, and the colourful painted shophouses along the river banks. Life is good when there are small pockets of personal space and time here and there. Too much of it, and life will be a bore; too little of it, and life will be a chore. Hey, it rhymes! I can be a poet too. Haha!

This picture of my lovely girl smelling a rose, makes me smile. I love it when my family gets in touch with Nature. Nature brightens our hearts and lightens our loads.

Suddenly, my little boy seem such a grown up. We wouldn't be able to plan two hectic trips in a day when he was small. But now, it is much easier. He had been cooperative, even nice, and obliging throughout.

At night, when we sleep, Kieran would ensure that my head is on a pillow and that I am well settled before I sleep. He would look lovingly at his sister (although tonight, she reciprocated will a snarl and threatened to bite because she was in a cranky sleepy mood), and said "Goodnight" to his daddy. Elaine Aron said parenting a HSC has its ups and downs, and it all comes in a package, so we have got to accept it as a whole. I totally get it. I am going to embrace his uniqueness and his virtues, and work at encouraging him to overcome his fears. Hubby said if we coddle him, he won't be able to survive in the army (SG has compulsory enlistment for all SG boys, unless he wins Olympic Gold medal like J Schooling). I disagree. He's a preschooler. He has 14 years ahead of him to prepare himself for National Service (army enlistment). He will be loved and be treated as a preschooler for now. When he is ready to face the challenge, we will face it with him. We do not need to worry about him not being able to survive the harsh realities in army camps because we will be there to prepare him for it. We will be there to walk the journey with him. Let children be children, let men be men. When it is time to cuddle, we will not let the chance go by. When it is time to let go, we will do so with joy.

One day to Caitlin's 3 year old birthday

3 years ago, today, it was a day both hubby and I looked forward to. We were thrilled when we knew we were going to have a girl. We dreamt of dressing her up, tying her hair, hearing her sweet voice and cuddling her close. Caitlin was born on 2 August, morning. She completed our small family.

Caitlin was a feisty little one. She cried so loudly at the nursery that I was afraid the nurses would dislike her. Kieran meowed like a cat when he cried and he seemed easily satisfied (only in the beginning, I must clarify).

Today, Caitlin had runny nose and she was running a low grade fever. Today, was one of the saddest day in my life. I didn't know where to begin, and I didn't want to put too many negative things here so that I will continue to be reminded of the sad moments. I didn't know whether I was appreciated but I am always thinking of sacrificing myself so that my husband and/or my children will have a better and more comfortable life. It is so devastating to learn, from many months back, that no matter how much I sacrifice, my husband and my children can never have the perfect life that they ought to have. Today my husband was again, very frustrated with and got very firmed with Kieran. Kieran, being a HSP, was extremely hurt by his strict, cold and firm commands. Those words and tone of voice sounded extremely disrespectful to me. I asked him whether he would like it if I use those commanding tones and words on him every day, like what he did to our son. My husband would get physical problems almost daily and we did not know the cause after seeking advices from medical specialists. I guess he is simply not suitable to care for young children. I get exhausted with taking care of our young children, and I am appreciative of assistance from him. But now I am thinking whether it would be better if we alter our living arrangements so that he don't have to be in charge of our children's daily life. It might be better for his health and also, better for our children because then he won't be hurting them, especially Kieran who is more sensitive, more aware, more easily hurt, and whom I felt so much affinity with, because most likely, he is very like me - we feel the same way and so we hurt the same way. We are both highly sensitive. Unlike him, I have learnt to mask my high sensitivity, and found coping mechanisms to deal with the cruel and callous world. I had learnt to hate my sensitivity, and to believe that high sensitivity is weak, frail and incapable. My parents were not sensitive people and my father, the most important role model in my life, has taught me that to be sensitive is to be a weakling. Kieran is pure and innocent. He has the chance to appreciate his sensitive nature, and learn to love himself the way that I never had for myself. I recognise the importance of teaching him the ways of our world but at the same time, I do not want him to deny his uniqueness. I wish that he could learn to love his sensitivity and make use of his uniqueness to make our world a better place. "HSP are a gift to our world," Elaine Aron said. I am not sure. I wanted to say, "I wish my son would proof that statement for me." But I realised how wrong that would be. If I as a HSP, cannot proof that I am a gift to our world, how can I ask of my child to do that? I only feel like a shield now, always trying to protect my children from the harm that others unknowing project onto them.

Reflections July 2016

27 July 2016 Rainy Wednesday

Apologising is a defacto whenever mothers have to leave our children under the charge of other caretakers.

If I have to take a few hours off to run errands, for work, for personal reasons or simply for sanity’s sake, guilt is always among the top emotions running in my mind.

No matter how much fathers now share the responsibility of child-rearing, it seems that mothers are still perceived as the parent who shoulder the most responsibility in child-rearing. Even if the society does not judge us as such, mothers will naturally take a larger share of child-rearing responsibility, perhaps partially due to maternal instincts, and partially due to belief in traditional parental roles which was imbued throughout our childhood.

It sometimes seems unjust to me how husbands can leave the responsibility of child rearing to wives while they attend to other matters. How I wish I can easily leave the children to attend to other matters too. My do-to-list kept filling up - to visit the dental clinic for half yearly review, to visit the beauty salon for a long overdue facial, to start my daughter’s scrapbook which documents her growing journey from birth to one year old, to go for tea with my friends, to sort out the toys, to clean up the house, to take an afternoon off to drink tea and read a book, etc.

I used to plan for weekends. I used to get excited at events that the whole family can go. Nowadays I was too tired to think of weekend plans. When I see family event posters, I read the activity highlights and imagined how exhausting it will be to actually be involved in them. I cannot decide whether this is due to age or due to mental state. I believe most people will think the kind of life I’m leading now is tough. Whenever I felt life is tough, I will content myself with thinking that life would be tougher if I were not working - I would be physically and mentally exhausted with taking care of both children by myself, be cooking everyday, have even lesser autonomy on my time and life, and our family finances would be in trouble, having to pay for our parents’ monthly expenses, our flat mortgage, our children’s enrichment class fees, daily living expenses and transport fares. Without my work, I will be greatly deprived of intellectual stimulations, life challenges and conversations with fellow adults. In life, one can never get the best of worlds.