My son asked if God made the bad people

Sometimes your children can jolt you out of a daydream with a what the *BLEEP* kind of question. I had just picked Kit up from preschool and we were happy with the comfortable silence you sometimes get after all the hugs and kisses and “I miss you” were said and done with.

“Mom, where do all the bad people come from? Did God make them? Are they bad or do they become bad?” asked the six-year-old. Woah. Babe, what have they been feeding you in school?!

What do you say to a child who has figured out in his sweet innocent head that since God made man, and God being good, so why would God make someone who is bad or evil? (“Let us make man in our image, in our likeness.”)

Ok so... this was what went through my head in that few split seconds after Kit asked the question. God made mankind as a reflection of his holiness. Yet at the same time, God gave mankind/Adam the ability to make choices. Mankind then made some lousy decisions and we fell from grace, et cetera, et cetera.

I am not a religious person; agnostic even. (This is the part where I risk losing FB friends because politics and religion are surefire ways to kill friendships.) What I have read or learned about God, Buddha, and other religious beliefs are based on what I’ve learned growing up among Christian relatives, studying in a Catholic school, reading, and travelling all over the world. So do I go the religious route. Or do I go all scientific with the nature versus nurture route.

This is what I told my child in the end. I told him that God made man (because this is what Kit believes in), but some people choose to do bad things later on in their lives. They might have learned it from other bad people or something happened which made them turn bad. Or, I paused, their parents might not have taught them the right things.

Our children are born a clean slate. We mould their life story based on how we see the world. How our parents have taught us and brought us up. Sometimes it is very overwhelming to know that my words and actions can change the child next to me.

He was silent after I answered him. I guess I’d have to be prepared for the next round of questioning.

Mr Lee promised us a garden city

Tree planting ceremonies were a big deal when I was growing up in the 70s. This initiative was part of our then prime minister Mr Lee Kuan Yew's vision of turning Singapore into a garden city because he felt it was "important that the whole island be clean, green and with everyone owning property".

I remember images of Mr Lee planting trees in some part of Singapore or another. I didn't think much of it then.

But now, I feel so much pride just looking at the big tall trees with their thick foliage and the thriving bird nest ferns sitting snugly on the branches. They are everywhere we turn. They are an everyday sight that many, I would imagine, have taken for granted. But these trees have brought so much joy to our family.

A tree is not just "a tree". It has seen my boys grow up as they walk to school. Its dead branches served as toy swords for my sons to play with. Its roots improved the boys' balance as they walked on the roots, with their arms spread out. Today, the three of us tried to see if we could hold one another's hand around a big tree near our house. We could. I couldn't see the boys' faces although I could hear them giggling away.

Mr Lee has left behind a beautiful legacy. One that I hope can be appreciated for generations to come.

Read the National Park's tribute to Mr Lee here.
The photograph was taken with the Fujifilm Instax Wide 300 camera.

MWAC: Try Jesus. He Never Fails.

Jesus loves me
Yes I know

Try Jesus. He never fails.
A broken down truck sighted before arriving at the historic gold-mining town of Coulterville in California (Taken with the Polaroid Sun LMS)

Kit asked me yesterday: "Mom, I would like to speak with God. Where is he?"

"He is everywhere. What do you want to say to him?" I said.

"I want to ask him to make us again when we die so that I can see you again," said my 5yo as he eyes welled up with tears.

My superhero

My superhero playing with his traveling chess set after lunch in Kutchan, Niseko
(Photo taken with the LC-A+ using Kodak Portra 800 film.)

"Avengers: Age of Ultron" is premiering this week. So during dinner, husband asked the boys to name their favourite superhero. That kind of brought me back to early this year where I discovered my favourite superhero of all time.

We have all been bullied in school at one point or another. Kai comes home with his fair share of incidents. Amidst the tears, anger, and frustration, I discovered that on some occasion, Kai has been brave enough to stand up for friends who are being bullied. These are not just best pals whom he is helping; some are classmates whom he hardly knows. He told me of the harsh, nasty words/comments thrown by other boys, and how he would retort on the friend's behalf. A boy from his Chinese class apparently was so grateful that he gave Kai an old storybook of his as a present when school reopened this year.

It's not just standing up to the nasties. He has no qualms with making friends or hanging out with boys whom others do not care to hang out with. When a classmate lost control of his emotions (yet again) in the library and started crying, Kai said he cracked jokes to cheer him up. And they even spend recess together, their heads bent over the same book. He taught the friend how classic Chinese books should be read: flipped from right to left and read down the page rather than across.

I have no illusion of grandeur when it comes to academic performance. I know Kai is not among the top performers in school. He is not a top athlete nor a top musician. But what I am pretty sure of is that he is my superhero because what he does takes courage. And I tell him that he is my superhero because it takes a lot of bravery to do what is right and to do what others might not be willing to do. At the same time, I remind him that Superman has his kyptonite so to please handle himself carefully with bullies as not everyone use just words to exact hurt on others.

So yes, my firstborn is my superhero although he annoys me to death half the time.

Imperfection is beautiful

A piece of amber with an insect inclusion! Remake of "Jurassic Park" anyone?

I still remembered the day I joined the group chat that some mummies from Kit's preschool class had formed on Whatsapp. What started as a support group for our children's educational needs became a gossip channel, and we soon found out what one another do for a living, what our husbands do, how old we all are (assuming everyone's telling the truth, heh!), what's the best photo editing app, etc. And that's how I got to know Huiying, a gemologist. She had all the mummies' attention by sharing a picture of a $15 million blue diamond and that inadvertently got the daddies worried.

It's not often that one gets to meet a gemologist. Well, at least not me since I don't own many any big bling-blings that require grading.

Looking at the amber under the super-duper powerful Leica microscope.

Huiying's a director with Far East Gem Institute. She also certifies diamonds and gems and trains people interested in becoming a gemologist. Kai had been asking loads of questions lately (thanks to Minecraft) on diamonds and gems. "How do gems get their colour?" "Where can gems be found?" "Can diamonds be found near volcanoes?" "How does one split a diamond?" The list goes on.

With exams finally over, I asked HY if she would entertain an inquisitive 8yo at her workshop. I was so glad she said yes.

Ruby in granite.

Our jaw dropped when we entered her office and saw the collection of gems on display. Kai was hopping up and down like a crazed bunny when he found an emerald, which I just discovered is one of the rarest materials in the Minecraft world! What is refreshing for me is the chance to see gems in their most unpolished, uncut form as some of them were literally picked up on site from mines or mountains or whichever site HY and her family were surveying/working at. I love the colour of the two rubies^ encased in granite. Looks so yummy!!!

But Kai has his eyes set on a bigger piece of ruby….

Diamonds in the rough.

Kai wanted to see diamonds under the powerful Leica microscope but HY said perfect diamonds are so boring, and she brought out some really, really interesting specimens for him. We saw, for instance, a diamond with a garnet inclusion (a small piece of red garnet formed inside the diamond). The highlight for me was when she showed me diamonds in the rough^. They signify so much promise and I wonder what we'd see if we chip and polish away the outside.

I canceled math tuition so that I could bring Kai to HY's, and I am so grateful to her for the opportunity. It opened up a whole new world to Kai and it was an experience that we'd never forget. It showed him that there is beauty even in imperfection, and that is a message I told him to hold in his heart always. It's rough being a student in an academic environment focused on perfection, top grades, excellence in sports/CCAs, and it can get overwhelming for children with learning disabilities. He comes home from school some days, feeling defeated and totally unsure of himself.

It's ok, baby. What is imperfection anyway? It's just a definition. Make your own definition of beauty, baby, and the rest of the world will see it.

Sending our babies into the big (bad) world called life

Just as I hugged my 8yo after school one day, he whispered in my ears, "Mum, I have something to tell you but let's wait until we are far away from school."

I knew something serious was up. Kai only says this when he is upset with something that happened in school. I put my arms around his shoulders and we walked out of the school gate in silence. When we were far away enough and when he made sure no one was around, he told me this story he had heard during assembly that morning.

A man had abandoned his dog and the dog, instead of wandering off, sat there and waited for its master. It thought his master would come back for him. But his master never did. The dog waited and waited and eventually died of starvation and a broken heart. "I really wanted to cry, mum, when I heard the story," Kai told me. It must have taken a lot on his part to hold back the tears then; I know my son.

Kai was tearing as he told me the story. When he reached home, he finally burst out in tears. It took him a long time to calm down.

Kai is a sensitive soul. He has always been a gentle boy who is upset by sad endings and possible bad outcomes. I felt sad and scared for my little man who is growing up and is realising that bad things can happen. How do you tell a child not to be afraid of the real-world when sometimes as adults, we feel lost too?

As usual, I could only hold him as he cried and told him we'll never abandon our pets. Ever.

At night, I told him I am going to play him a song and he is to listen to the lyrics carefully. I told him that yes, there'd be times where he'd be disappointed, hurt, betrayed, or sad. I told him that I don't have all the answers and I wish, with all my might, that I can stop all bad things from happening. But I can't. The one thing I know I can do is to love him with all my heart and soul and I hope, that'd give him strength to tackle any curveballs that life has thrown at him.

And I played him this:

When the rain is blowing in your face
And the whole world is on your case
I could offer you a warm embrace
To make you feel my love

When the evening shadows and the stars appear
And there is no one there to dry your tears
I could hold you for a million years
To make you feel my love

I know you haven’t made your mind up yet
But I would never do you wrong
I’ve known it from the moment that we met
No doubt in my mind where you belong

I’d go hungry, I’d go black and blue
I’d go crawling down the avenue
There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do
To make you feel my love

The storms are raging on the rollin’ sea
And on the highway of regret
The winds of change are blowing wild and free
You ain’t seen nothing like me yet

I could make you happy, make your dreams come true
Nothing that I wouldn’t do
Go to the ends of the earth for you
To make you feel my love

- Bob Dylan, "Make You Feel My Love"

Growing up with an 8yo boy

Dear Kai,

It took me a while to pen this annual birthday post to you. It's not because I am lost for words; I've so much to say to you. Your daddy said something today that summed it all up. He said that you have to fight your own battles; I can't be fighting them for you.

That's what scares me. If I can, I'll be fighting all your battles but that'd make you an unhappy person when you grow up.

You've been asking if I still love you; who do I love more. Because I haven't been patient, because I want you to be the best that you can be. I have space in my heart for both you and your brother. Don't ever doubt that.

I've seen you grow so much over the past year. You pushed your own boundaries. You learned to ride a two-wheel bike. You scrambled up every rock possible in Yosemite whenever possible when in the past you would be afraid. You tried sand boarding in North Stradebroke Island and conquered the slopes. You snorkelled in Redang and took part in a fin swimming competition. Everytime you came home crying from school, you have no idea how broken I was inside although I had to keep a calm face in front of you.

Like you, I am growing up with you as your mother. Thank you for the opportunity. I love being your mother.

Happy 8yo birthday, my first born.

Love, mum

Working hard at sibling love

My boys playing knights at Castello di Amorosa, a vineyard designed as a gorgeous medieval castle
in Napa Valley, Californa. (Photo taken with Fujipet Thunderbird.)

Lately, and very strangely, I've been getting into conversations with other parents and friends about having and bringing up children of the same sex vis-a-vis children of different sex.

Most seem to conclude that it's better if the children is of the same sex. I don't even think "better" is an appropriate word. Perhaps it's more accurate to say that parents with children of the same sex have to work less hard to make sure that the siblings stay and grow up close. Boys like cars and girls like dolls. So the argument is that it's easier to get a boy to relate to his brother's interests/hobbies than to relate to his sister's.

When we were planning to have our first kid, neither of us thought about whether we preferred a boy or a girl. We will love and accept whoever the universe has decided to give us. So I am now a mother of two boys and whatever plus or advantages that come with that combination, there are headaches and annoyances galore too.

What we work hard at is to make sure that both boys know we love them both equally and that they must love and take care of each other no matter what. (I always tell the 8yo that even when his dad and I are gone, he will still have Kit so please love him!)

We take comfort in that the brothers are very close. Yes, they fight all the time but when school is over, they look forward to playing with each other. They pull out Lego blocks to build crazy boyish inventions that are strewn all over the house. They create funny names for their soft toys and then play out silly scenarios. They chat with each other in the bedroom until both or one of them fall asleep. They don't horse around at all; they just talk.

Yesterday, over breakfast, both boys wanted to drink Yakult but there was only one bottle left in the fridge. We told them that they could either drink a cup of water each or share that one bottle of Yakult. They chose the latter. I stuck that straw into the bottle and placed it between them. They took turns drinking from the bottle. There was no way to tell if one drank more than the other although one of them probably did! But nobody accused the other of doing that and said the other was cheating.

I think whether as a parent you have all girls, all boys, or a girl and a boy… we just have to work hard at sibling love. Just different tactics but the fundamental is the same.

When my boys bicker

Taking turns on the iPhone (Fujipet, Lomography 400 ISO film)

The boys are older now and Kit is definitely independent enough, so why is it that I can't wait to tuck my boys to bed at 9pm sharp every night?

It's not the running around after them or with them that's the problem. It's the bickering/fighting/arguing and tantrum throwing. Most of the time, they love playing with each other. In fact, they really want to play with each other. But when they get unhappy with each other, I end up having to plead, negotiate, punish, explain, argue etc. etc. with the boys. So mentally exhausting!

(I learned something though. I learned that Kit is a very forgiving boy and that he simply adores his older brother. He gets really, really, really upset if Kai is angry with him, even if the older brother was behaving like a spoilt brat!)

The attractive safety net of enrichment classes and tuition

(Photo taken with LC-A+)

A new year has started and OH BOY, it has been really rough going on the education front.

I've shared my thoughts about our nation's obsession to avoid failure and how I am a winner in mediocrity. So there I was, wrapped in my comfortable world of mediocrity when I was rocked out of my zen mode the moment Kai announced that he really wanted to learn how to play the violin. He had asked many times the past years but he sounded dead serious late last year.

When Kai was born, I had hoped he would pick up the violin. But I never signed him up for classes, preferring to let him lead the way. With no request from him for any sort of enrichment classes over his toddler and pre-school years, I decided that my firstborn was the sort that likes to stay home and play, watch TV, play phone/PC games, and read. And so with feelings of apprehension of what lies ahead (i.e. the struggle to get him to practice at home) and excitement (he's finally learning the violin!), we embarked on our first, real enrichment class over the November and December school holidays.

Then school started again this year, and it has been HELL. Kai is more defiant and difficult, perhaps due to a desire to exert his independence as a soon-to-be 8yo. This made it very hard for me to get him to do any thing that needs to be done. Then teachers started handing out homework and one afternoon, after getting lunch into the boy, helping him with homework, AND arguing with him over homework, I looked at the clock and realised that CRAP, there's hardly any time for revision! It's close to 5pm, I need to pick Kit up from school and prepare dinner. Most of all, it hardly seems right to work the boy after dinner when he's been doing homework most of his afternoon. And crap, when is he going to practice his violin?!

So how do other school-going children who have enrichment classes the whole afternoon manage it? How do they find time to tackle the school's homework plus homework set by their tutors and practice on a musical instrument or go for sports training every single day?

Kai doesn't get additional help from external tutors for math or English. He has a Chinese tutor who only sees him once a week but that's hardly enough; one needs to be exposed to the language everyday. I am his external help. I do revision with him on all his subjects on a daily basis but surely I can't be as effective or good as tutors/tuition school. Am I short-changing him?

The thought of sending him to a tuition centre is very attractive. I'd be able to outsource the stress, the teaching, and the frustration. I'd have more time to spend on teaching Kit, who needs to, according to his teachers, improve on his writing and reading skills. (He's only 4yo!) Am I short-changing him too because I don't have time to work on those areas with him?

Kai wrote a poem for me today just before he went to bed. It is a pretty good effort, with only two spelling mistakes. I make mistakes too but the love is there. I hope love would be enough for both of us.

Do one thing everyday that scares you… and your kids

I wrote about confronting fears a while back. One of the things that scare me as a mother is letting my boys push their limits through a new sport/activity. There's always the fear that they'll get hurt but at the same time, I must put on a calm and "oh don't worry, this is safe if you follow instructions" look during the learning process.

Kit waxing his board.

So the boys learned to sandboard during the December holidays. There was the initial worry that someone would fall, tumble down the slope, and break something (not the board) but the boys really did well on the slopes. Plus, they absolutely loved it!

Me prepping Kit's board.

(Photo taken with LC-A+)

I really worried about Kit although all he did was just sit on the board and slide down a really, really, really long sandy slope.

Me waxing Kai's board.

(Photo taken with LC-A+)

And Kai stood on the board all the way down slope.

Empty landscape because we were too busy sand boarding and cheering the kids on that no one took pictures of anyone in action!

This long slope.

Oh, and yes, I sandboarded too. So yay, I confronted the fear of my kids getting hurt and confronted my own fear of potentially hurting myself. Heh!

One of those things about motherhood that no one told you about

Enjoying an ice popsicle while walking through the woods of North Stradebroke island, Australia.

Such a long overdue post.

About a month back, the reality that Kit is no longer a baby hits me in the face. It was a very trying day. He had been acting like a real monkey, running off on his own without telling me, stepping on my shoes every other minute or so, pushing and fighting with Kai, and pulling things off shopping centre shelves. So by time we finally sat down for dinner, I was frazzled, really annoyed, and super stressed.

He started standing on his chair and shoving cutleries around when I told him to please behave. He did so for just five seconds, and promptly went back to being a monkey again. I lost it. With my voice raised, I said, "What's wrong with you? I've already told you to stop it! Why aren't you listening!"

Kit stopped and for the first time in the day, he sat down and became very quiet. I saw his eyes well up with tears and I saw him fighting them back. I saw him swallowing sobs that were fighting to come out of his mouth and he looked away.

My heart broke. Yes, he had been naughty. Yes, he had misbehaved. But instead of acting defiantly, like he always did when I lost it with him in the past, he wanted to cry. My words had hurt him.

Dinner was a peaceful, civilised affair.

After dinner, I gathered him in my arms and told him I was sorry for shouting at him. I asked him to forgive me and please, don't be naughty again. He said ok and that he was sorry too.

With eyes closed

Kit in a quiet moment. Rare.

Life is very exciting with Kit around. I've seen him sped down slopes on his scooter bike with nary a care in the world. Then he'd fly over his bike when it stopped suddenly after hitting a drain/curb. I've chased after him when he zoomed off and jumped straight into the deep end of the pool at three years old and no, he couldn't swim then. I still remember the scene: him disappearing into the pool while I'm still 2m away, arms outstretched.

With him, life is sometimes like watching a disaster unfold on TV in slow-mo. I see the sequence played out frame by frame, with a drawn out, strangled "noooooooooooooooooo" coming from me.

Sometimes, I feel like closing my eyes when I see him speeding down yet another slope, nearly hitting yet another a jogger. He's too fast to stop. I hold my breath when I see him run down a slope, trip over a rock, and at the last minute recover in time to land on both feet safely. I look to the skies when, instead of standing at the side of the longkang (drain) to catch fish, he squats and swims with the fish and explore mouldy rocks. I am praying for intervention, that he doesn't drink the water while he's at it.

There's a strong urge to close my eyes but I don't. I may need to avert an accident.

But I close my "eyes" because childhood is about exploration, getting hurt, having fun, and picking yourself up after a fall.

No one warned me parenthood is such a delicate balance.

(Photo taken with a LC-A+ using Kodak Portra 160 film.)

Where's my money?

(Taken with the LC-A+ using Fuji Velvia RVP 100F film.)

About two months ago, Kai started putting whatever is left of his pocket money in a POSB coin bank everyday. Shaped like a house, the coin bank is made of porcelain and has Smiley Squirrel, POSB's escort back in the 70s, in front. It belonged to me, and I just discovered it costs S$18 on ebay.

Because he has been so diligent in saving his money (he even stopped buying Milo during recess), the amount grew considerably. He emptied it, sat down, and started counting his money. S$34.10. I didn't want to leave the money lying around the house so I kept it, intending to bank in the money in an account that I've set up for him when he was a baby.

But he's been asking where has the money gone. Is it physically in a bank? Is it in POSB? I don't think he quite understood the idea of cheques and electronic cash. I thought I'd write him a cheque in his name and have him drop it into a cheque box.

Then as I was walking Kit home from school one day, I looked up and saw the big POSB sign ahead of me.

It was a sign.

Until this day, I still remember queuing up with my parents to open my own POSB bank account. I remembered putting stickers on a POSB savings card, which was created as part of the savings campaign for children in the 70s.

I think it's about time I give him another childhood memory. That envelope of coins that he's saved will be going into a bank account which he'd be opening, together with me, tomorrow.

Thought bubbles of a seven-year old

For years in pre-school, feedback from Kai's teachers had always been such: "Mrs Tan, Tan Kai is always day dreaming in class. He drifts off; we're not sure if he's listening."

Children's attention span varies, and I've been told boys are terrible at focusing on tasks. So is Kai normal or different? If different, how different? I've never received a definitive reply. He's just different, I was told. After years of receiving unconstructive feedback like that, I gave up trying to decipher what is different (not wrong) with Kai so that I can 'fix' it. Nonetheless, I've always wondered what goes through that little mind of his.

Then he started Primary 1, and I stopped receiving feedback like that. (With a teacher to student ratio of 1:30, I'm pretty sure it'd be harder for any of his teachers to catch him drifting off.)

I was driving Kai home one day when he broke the silence and asked me to show proof that Jesus/God exists. "Like where is he buried? Where are his bones? Can I see the tombstone?" asked my seven-year old.

Today, he took the dollar coin which I always keep in the car just before we drove off for class. (I keep a coin in the car for days where I don't have dollar coins in my wallet for the supermarket trolley.) "Why is it that the coin continues to move with me even after I've thrown it in the air?" he asked.

He had been tossing the coin in the moving car, and had realised the coin is 'traveling' with him even though it's suspended in mid-air.

Next came the question of why cavemen came up with words to describe things.

Theology. Physics. History. If those are the stuff that day dreams are made of, then let him dream.

The question we should ask as educators/parents is not what is 'wrong' with the child. The question is how we should engage and teach the child, whatever his capability. An inquiring mind is ripe for the teaching, for absorbing facts, for discovering new frontiers.

It was Newton's inquiring mind that led him to come up with the laws of physics. Galileo disobeyed the Catholic church and maintained that the earth revolves around the sun. So this is the message I have for you, Kai: It is ok to see the world in a different light.

A winner in mediocrity

Terence likes to tease me sometimes, calling me an under-achieving mum. I don't sign my boys up for a   slew of enrichment of classes. I tell my 7yo to perform to the best of his ability, and that it's ok if he doesn't come in first or score a perfect 10. It doesn't mean that I don't push him when it comes to school work. I am also disappointed if his score isn't what I'd like it to be. But I tell him don't get too hung up on grades.

Then, I started wondering: "What if I am wrong?" Together with my 7yo, I am suddenly thrown into the formal school world where I see students (and parents) jostling to be winners, to be first, to be representing the school in a prestigious competition, to be a prefect, and oh come on, be good at something!

So I am settling for mediocrity because I don't want to compete, I am a loser, I am teaching my children to be losers. Those thoughts went through my head. Perhaps I should sign him up for violin lessons, aikido, Chinese calligraphy, drama... I don't know, something, anything?! Then we'd have a higher chance of discovering that he's a music prodigy, martial arts expert, brilliant artist. Something!

So I turned to Google for help. Typed in "mediocrity children" in the search box, and I found an entry by Dr. Wendy Mogel on The Mother Company website, whose tagline reads "Helping parents raise good people". She wrote:

"Really look to whom you've been given. You receive each child as if they are a packet of seeds without a label. You don't know when that child will bloom, you don't know what kind of flower you're going to get. Your job is to pick the biggest weeds, and then just stand back and wait.

Kai has a loving heart. He is kind.

"You may find-out that you have a child that is not an athlete, or does not have a gregarious personality, or may not be a scholar. But, they may have a wonderful heart, they may be a poet, they may be a mechanic.

Kit is never where I want him to be but he is inquisitive and strong.

"You really want to look at your child, and instead of seeking out perfect experiences, you seek what is a nice fit for their nature -- not for your own unlived life."

Sure. For every article celebrating mediocrity, we'll find another (or 10?) saying that parents should not settle for mediocrity. We'd each find one (or 100?) article that reaffirms our believes, and turn up our noses at other parents' believes. "See, I am right because THIS expert says it is so." (Na-nee-na-nee-boo-boo!)

Mediocrity. Under-achieving. Hot-housing. Over-achieving. I don't know. How does one create a balance, and is there even such a thing as balance. It's either you're mediocre or you're a winner. I think I will continue to struggle with this internally for as long as I am a mother.

What I know is my children are pretty happy. I'm a winner in mediocrity. Oh wait. See, I am a winner!

(Photographs taken with the Lomography ActionSampler with the Lomography Color Negative 400 ISO 35mm film. Unedited by any photo/image software or app.)

Hush little baby don't you cry

As a mother, you wipe your children's tears. But who wipes a mother's tear?

Maybe it's Christmas. Maybe it's reading about other mother's pain of losing a child. Maybe it's thinking about bullets tearing into a 6yo's body. Maybe because this is Kai's last week in kindergarten. Maybe because I read about the rapes in India.

Maybe.

Kai has night terrors. He has been having them since forever. From when he was little, just before he falls sick, he'd have night terrors frequently. There's nothing we could do, can do. We used to try to soothe him, talk to him, and eventually we'd just go in to check on him and go back to our room. He never hurts himself or anybody. He'd just scream the house down. SCREAM.

Last time, I would just listen to him scream and breathe a sigh of when he stopped. I'd be jittery before bedtime because the night terrors would go on for a few nights and a few times each night.

Then a few months back, we had to drive him to the hospital emergency unit because it looked like he could hurt himself. It didn't look like a normal night terror episode. As I sat there and looked at my 6yo thrashing and hopping about on the bed, with terror in his eyes, and screams that echoed through the silent house, I broke down and cried.

It dawned on me then that there could be something seriously wrong with my kid. Neurologically or otherwise.

We have been sending him to the neurologist a couple of times since. Sometimes it gets so bad that he goes into some sort of a panic or seizure-like attack where his body just freezes up before his bed time. He contorts his arms and legs and stiffens up. Yet, he is conscious during these pre-bed time episodes. It terrifies him. It terrifies me. I am ashamed to say I've screamed at him because he can control himself but he chooses to let the panic take over.

I forget that he's a 6yo who's frightened.

The good thing is that we've concluded, together with the neurologist, that there is nothing neurologically wrong with him. I talk to him about his fears, which usually involves me dying, his dad dying, his loved ones dying, leaving him and Kit alone in the world. He doesn't want to grow up because he is afraid of dying. I do breathing exercises with him when he gets the pre-bed time panic attacks. He now listens; calm, yogic breathing works wonder in calming him down.

But there are nights where things will spin out of control again. I forget he's a frightened 6yo again, and I feel guilty for what I say to him and for not keeping calm all the time during the episodes.

So, who wipes a mother's tears during moments of fear and uncertainty?

On the first day of the last month of 2012, my baby...

My baby wore his first graduation gown, and bid a formal goodbye to his preschool years.

After all these years of watching other K2 children graduate, Kai and his friends are finally the ones who danced their last preschool concert, collected their certificate and farewell gift, bowed to teary eyed parents, and took silly pictures with their buddies.

As a family, we went through so much together. From worrying about how he would cope on the first day in school, toilet training him, teaching him how to feed and dress himself, feeling helpless while he has his night terror episodes, to helping him with his dyslexia. And I didn't do it alone, his teachers were with me every step of the way.

Ah, how bittersweet, sad, and happy I felt today. What a strange mix of emotions.

There are so many things I wish for him today. Happiness, good health, love, success, companionship, independence. The list goes on. Most of all, I wish he'd grow up to be a good person, someone who lives life with integrity, and for him to be happy.

I love you, Kai.

Love notes

What do you do with the "I love you" notes and cards that your children make for you? I have a drawerful of them from Kai, and I can't bear to throw them away.

Walk down memory lane

It's been more than two decades since I stepped foot in the Chinese Garden, and I don't remember very much of it except for the pagoda in the middle of the garden. I saw it again when we visited the garden during a recent school outing, and it's not as tall as I imagined it to be!

What would Kit's memory of the pagoda be like?

While waiting for their classmates to arrive, the boys had to entertain themselves. I thought it was interesting that the 3yo was acting like a 6yo while the 6yo was acting like a 3yo.