To Each His Own

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I believe that each pair of mom and dad has a unique set of ideals and preferences for their children — how  they are as parents, how they perceive their children, whom they allow to look after their children, what kind of education their children should have, which school their children should attend.

As for me and my husband, our parenting style has been inspired by this French song:

Les petits poissons, dans l’eau 
nagent, nagent, nagent, nagent, nagent,

Les petits poissons, dans l’eau 
nagent aussi bien que les gros 
Les petits, les gros nagent comme il faut,

Les gros, les petits nagent bien aussi.

In English:

The little fish in water – swim, swim, swim, swim, swim,

The little fish in water – you should swim as well as the big ones.

The little ones, the big ones – swim as well as you should

The big ones, the little ones – swim well too.

As much as possible, we do our best to treat each of our boys how we treat other adults and how we want to be treated as adults.

We encourage our 2-year-old boy to make decisions for himself. As early as now, we let him choose his clothes unless there’s a required attire. We encourage him to “socialise” and play with other people but if he’s not in the mood or if he wants to play on his own then that’s totally fine for as long as he’s still polite and respectful when he refuses to play with others. While we decide on which food he must eat, he can decide on how much food he will have in a meal (only he can feel when he’s already full). While we make him go to bed between 7:30pm and 8pm (and while we strongly wish that he falls asleep right away), we can’t make him sleep unless his body and mind are ready to sleep. We don’t insist on anything unless it is necessary.

For most Asians, I know that our parenting style is very unusual. I remember how, at an early age, I was not just being read to but I was already being taught how to read. I can still picture the letters and remember the smell of the Abakada book that I had when I was around 2 or 3 years old. Yes, I have an idea of how young I was then because I remember that it was Mama who was with me at that moment and I started living with my late grandma before I turned 4. At 4, I was already going to a kindergarten where we were asked to write letters, words and even our full names (mine has a total of 29 letters so I’d rather write all the letters of the alphabet). We were already taught how to count and write the numbers. We had quizzes and long tests. And as early as that time, I already had a belief that failures would always cause not only shame on me but disappointment on my elders. I felt like I always needed to have a 100% score or at least 90%; otherwise, my elders would feel bad and I would be laughed at by other people.

But as I grew old, I have become more and more aware of which are better and more important than being intelligent and having a “Superior” IQ level. And most of the things in my past have greatly affected how I parent my boys now.

We want them to fully enjoy their childhood as they learn and grow up as good and responsible men. We want them to experience freedom as they learn to balance it with self-control and sense of responsibility. We want them to feel that we trust them as they aim to keep themselves as trustworthy individuals. We want them to trust themselves.

How can we do these? By believing in them and respecting them as much as we believe and respect ourselves.

GBS = Getting Better Slowly

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When we get sick, what we want is a fast recovery. People hope and pray for our speedy recovery. Well, who doesn’t? I want to recover very, very soon…as soon as now…at this very moment. I’ve wanted the fastest recovery for more than two weeks now!

But then, I was made more aware of my condition yesterday. And a reality had hit me so bad. However, I’ve still been praying for a miracle: that one day, I’d wake up and get up from our bed and everything is perfectly back to normal.

The community nurse coordinator who’s been assigned to me came to our house yesterday. She assessed the help and assistance that I need. She explained that a team of therapists are coming in the next few days.

This coming week, a physiotherapist will start to come to help me regain the strength of my body. An occupational therapist will also come to help me get back to performing my daily tasks. A speech and language therapist may also come to help me overcome my swallowing difficulty. PLUS someone will come over several days a week to assist me in showering and in other personal cares — that will include combing my hair, clipping my fingernails/toenails (yes, I need someone to do these things for me nowadays). I will receive all these help and assistance for FREE. I’m still blest, ain’t I?! Yes, I am sincerely very, very thankful! ❤

I have been reassured that I will recover from this. As to how long this will take? Now I know that only God knows. I know I will recover from this. However, there’s one thing that I learnt from my conversation with the nurse yesterday.

She explained to me about a very common characteristic of people with GBS. We want to get things done…soon. We want to fast forward everything. We want the results now. We are somewhat perfectionist. We are the kind of people who find it hard to step back and wait. We do not know when to stop. And that is what I need to learn as I am on the road to recovery: know when to stop. Know when my body can no longer push. Know when my body can no longer handle what my mind has set to accomplish. Perhaps this has been something that I should’ve learnt all these years!

This is not the only time when I got so sick like this. In 2012, I was even admitted in the ICU but the doctors couldn’t find anything abnormal in any tests until that very intelligent doctor said that I was just depressed. Thanks to him for that! Very, very helpful! With all honesty, I wasn’t. But I was exhausted… very, very exhausted — physically and mentally. I even had a fever and I was thinking if I should still go to one of my students before my mother found me unconscious on the floor. Before I got sick then, I was working as a home tutor from seven in the morning until eleven at night. Yes, I was working that long because I loved what I was doing. I only had a total of an hour to rest for my meals in a day and perhaps three hours of sleep at night because I had to prepare the lessons/sample tests for my students. As far as I can remember, that was a week before the exams and project submissions of my students. I was so pressured then because most of them were also pressured to achieve something. And I wanted them to achieve what they aimed for.

This time around, exhaustion was what I had been feeling before I got sick. Imagine being pregnant for almost 39 weeks while still looking after a toddler then a childbirth then an operation to remove the retained placenta from my uterus and breastfeeding while still looking after a toddler. And within a month, I was back to doing some household chores, which my husband might have never recognised that I actually did them [😂]. Spring came and I tried to do some spring cleaning and to re-organise the house (yes, I was too stubborn to push a couple of heavy cabinets around the house despite being asked by many to take things easy as I had just given a birth three or four months ago). Plus the fact that I was still taking my two boys to Playcentre. Then the holiday season came. And during all those months, I did not give any attention to what my body was already telling me. There was even a time when I was only made aware of my high temp (39C) when I was also checked by the paramedics who attended to my sick toddler then. Yes, I didn’t even know that I was sick then because I was focused on taking care of my sick child.

All these might have triggered my immune system to become overactive. So I’ve written all of these now to remind me in the future.

Yes, this should serve as a reminder to myself of what the nurse told me yesterday. “Learn when to stop. There will be times when you’ll feel that you can do more and you’ll do it. But then the next minute or next day, your weakness will have another flare-up. Then you’ll wonder why you are weak again today while you’re already strong yesterday. Then you’ll feel bad and sad because you think that you’re not recovering well. But we need you to be in a good mood all the time so you’re always motivated to do your exercises. You have to remember: you will recover but recovering from GBS means Getting Better Slowly.”

 

I Miss The Mother That I Was

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It was in the last quarter of 2013 when I learnt that I was pregnant with my first child. From then on, every single aspect of my life started to change.

Although I’ve still had plans for my own future, my family, particularly my children, became my topmost priority. My husband and I agreed that I stay at home full time to look after our children. We joined in Playcentre where I became not only a mother to my children but their first educator too.

Although I sometimes miss my life before I became a mother, I have loved being one. No matter how exhausting it could be sometimes, being a mother has given me so much joy. Motherhood has made me experience what true happiness is even if it meant sacrificing a lot. It has made me feel that I’m finally fulfilling my real purpose in life after pursuing too many different options in the past.

Despite the two difficult pregnancies and childbirths, it felt like everything was in the right place. Despite our daily struggles, it felt like we’re living a beautiful life.

I managed to still continue completing another course at Playcentre. I managed to attend the Playcentre sessions with a toddler and a baby. I managed to enjoy working with the other Playcentre parents. I felt like I was already on the right path to fulfill my all-time ambition of becoming a preschool teacher too.

And then a little over five months after giving birth to my second child, something happened in my body. My immune system messed up with my nerves and muscles. It has made me weak and incapable of performing my tasks. At first, I thought it affected only my lower extremities and swallowing. During my fourth day in the hospital, I couldn’t keep up carrying my baby like I used to. Fifth day came and I couldn’t lift him up from the bed anymore. Sixth day came and my upper extremities were already struggling in changing my boys’ nappies. And I had to completely stop breastfeeding.

Deep inside, I was agreeing with my doctors that I should stay in the hospital but I did my best to convince them to allow me to go home. I was itching to go home because all I wanted was to be with my boys day and night. But I was wrong.

Today is the third day that my husband has to drive our baby to a different house to be looked after by a very kind couple for almost nine hours while I’m at home. Today, we are going to visit a preschool where we can enrol our firstborn, which was totally not part of our plans for the very near future.

I decided not to work to become a full-time stay-at-home mother. But now, I’ve not been able to take on that role. I’ve missed carrying my baby. I’m afraid I’m not going to witness the first time that he’ll crawl or even the first time that he’ll try to stand up or sit up. I’m afraid I won’t be the one to guide him in taking his first steps.

But I have to be honest and, yes, to be gentle with myself. I am not the best person to look after my boys at the moment and neither is my husband since he needs to work. All these unwanted decisions are for the well-being of everyone in our family. I can get enough rest and time that I need to focus on my recovery. My baby will be looked after better and he can have as much cuddles as he needs. My preschooler can play in the best way possible without being disappointed when he wants me to play with him but I can’t. And my husband can focus at work.

I believe that this too shall pass but I pray that it is going to be really, really soon. I only want to do the things that I was doing as a mother. I tremendously miss being the mother that I used to be.

Sorry. Thank you. I love you.

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Sorry. Never in my life have I ever wanted to put you in a situation like we are in right now. I’ve always imagined us simply focusing on the necessary things what we have to do — you, enjoying your work and spending happy moments with our boys once you’re home from work, while me looking after our boys and keeping things organised for us. Sorry if you have to do literally everything for our family now.

 

Thank you. Thank you for doing everything for us. Thank you for sticking with me despite all the chaos that we’ve gotten ourselves into. Thank you for always putting me and our family on your topmost priority. Thank you for all your sacrifices. I hope you know I’ll do the same for you. Thank you for your love.

 

I love you. No matter what happens, I love you. During the first few days that I was in the hospital and doctors were considering all the serious illnesses  that they could associate to my worsening condition then, I was already thinking of who can replace me as your wife and as our boys’ mother. I told myself that, if the doctors would tell me that there’s a possibility of me being paralysed or dead soon, I would call someone I know and would ask her to look after you and our boys. That thought had hurt me but that would give me peace of mind and peace in my heart that eveything in your and our boys’ lives would return to normal eventually and that someone would be looking after the three of you. You and our boys are God’s most precious gifts to me; therefore, I would never leave you without the best replacement for me that there could ever be. I love you so much that I could understand if one day you would opt to have an easier life with someone so much better than me. I would never hate you for that. Although it’s still far from happening, there’s only one thing that I want you to consider: find someone who will be nice to me because I want all of us to live in peace and I would love to see her looking after our boys as if she’s also their good mother. However, once I’m completely recovered, consider my last four statements to be null and void because I love you and I would never pass you on to anyone else just like that. Until my final breath, we are married and I love you.

I Wish You Came Into My Life 15 Years Ago

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I was born when your grandma was only 22 years old. She was working then. I can still remember I had Yaya Two and Yaya Uding (well, she’s actually my beloved late Tita Uding). Most likely, I had Yaya One since I had Yaya Two. As I grew up, I had to live with your great grandma and your Mama Beth and Lola Nini (my aunts) because Lola Weng was working. Eventually, your grandma had to stop working despite having a grand promotion at hand because your grandpa wanted her to become a housewife to look after me, your uncle and aunt.

Because of that, I promised myself not to get pregnant until I achieved all my career goals and until I got tired of hanging out with my friends. And I succeeded. I didn’t get pregnant until I was 32 with my boyfriend then for 8 years who has been my husband and now your Daddy.

But now that I’ve been this sick and weak, I wish I had you 15 years ago. By now, I would’ve already taken you to several different places and countries. I would’ve seen you join and even win in different competitions. I would’ve watched you join in championships in different sports. I would’ve watched you in musical or dance recitals or even in stage plays. I would’ve now been looking at your framed certificates of appreciation for being such good friends to your classmates. I would’ve heard too many praises from your friends’ parents. And I would’ve even been called by the school principal because, yeah, you were involved in a fight!

But it would’ve been totally different if you came into my life 15 years ago. I might have been a totally different person then. I might have been a completely different mother. I might have not made the choices that I’ve made now as your Mommy. I might’ve been a working mom. And you might’ve been spending most of your preschool days with different people because I was in the office climbing a corporate ladder.

And you might’ve been not the kinds of boys that you are now and I wouldn’t like it. I love exactly what and how you have been. So, I’m glad you came when I was already excited about having kids of my own. I’m happy that you came when I was already prepared to sacrifice everything for you. And I’m thankful to God for his perfect timing. Because you came into my life in the most beautiful way!

I love you both so dearly! And thank you for coming into my life in God’s perfect time.