Tag Archives: nz

Let Them Be

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“I am SUPERMAN!!!”

“For to be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.” -Nelson Mandela

“Nooooo!!!No suot (wear) that! Not that shirt! Not that pants!” screamed Mr. Two. “I want Superman lang (only),” he DECLARED.

There are mornings like this. Sometimes, it happens during mornings when everybody’s in a hurry. Yes, the struggle is real! (I ALSO WANT TO SCREAM “NOOOOO!!!”)

But then, what’s really wrong about a two-year-old wearing his Superman costume when he will just go to play in the childcare centre or at Playcentre? Nothing! Yes, nothing, right?! So why struggle?

“I am MAUI now!”
(Because he got “tattooed”…with stickers!)

Recently, he has become so OBSESSED with Moana. When he’s allowed to watch TV, he wants to watch Moana only. When we listen to music, it has to be the Moana soundtrack. And we have to listen to Moana soundtrack every single minute … every single day… and he dances his heart out every single time that he hears the songs. (Dancing is the cute part but listening to the same music over and over again? It makes me… “What can I say except you’re welcome? You’re welcome!” Arghhhhh…) Oh, one afternoon, he didn’t want to wear anything except his underpants because Maui is topless and then yesterday, he’s got himself “tattooed” (with stickers) because Maui has tattoos and HE IS MAUI, according to him!

So anything wrong with that? NOTHING!!! Because there is nothing wrong in letting the child believe that he can be whoever he wants to be.

Now I may be questioned: “So what if he gets so frustrated when he’d finally realise that he is neither Superman nor Maui?”

First, I am sure that he knows that he is neither Superman nor Maui because we call him by his real name and he responds to us.

Second, it is very, very natural for children and even for adults to get frustrated. Therefore, it is actually good for him to get frustrated when reality hits him. It becomes an opportunity for us to help him learn how to accept the fact, let go and move forward while he is still very young. Then while he realises that it is not all the time that he can be whoever he wants to be, he will still believe in himself.

Because he can try to become the person he wants to be. Because we believe that he can. Because we let him be!

He can be a mechanic!

He can be a firefighter! (He’s just having a break in the fire station. Look, he’s still wearing his fireman boots!)

He can mow the lawn!

He can be a photographer!

He can be a musician!

He can be an engineer or even a plumber!

He can be a chef!

I am a strong advocate of free play. They can get messy. They can get wet. They can explore. They can run around until they get tired. They can play with dolls as long as they are being good fathers or big brothers to the doll. They can play cooking.

Basically, I let my children do everything. I let them be.

Now don’t get me wrong. Yes, I give them freedom to do whatever they want to. However, I also have rules that they must strictly follow.

  • When it is eating time, it is eating time. They have to sit with us at the dining table. (This can be bent sometimes but should be followed most of the time.)
  • Eat what’s served on the table. Be thankful for the food whatever it is. They can decide on how much to eat though (only them can feel whether they’re hungry or full).
  • Bedtime starts between 7:30pm and 8pm. I can’t control how soon they fall asleep but they must stay on the bed…no standing up, no sitting, no jumping…nothing else but lie down!
  • Never hurt nor harm anyone.

I let them be because I want them to know that I trust them. I let them be but I let them face the consequences of their choices. I let them be and I celebrate with them when they achieve something from being who they have decided to be. I let them be because I know that it will help them develop a good amount of self-control and a good sense of full responsibility over their lives.

I love, trust and respect  them that’s why I let them be.

Child’s Play and Alphabet

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A child learns best when he’s free to learn in his own pace and in his own ways.

Mr. Two shaped my breast pump tube into this and he said, “Mommy, letter G! G for [his name]!”

Ask me how and where my Mr. Two first learnt about letters. He was almost 1.5 years old then. It was in a hotel in Manila. There was the “EXIT” sign on the lower part of the hallway wall. He traced each letter with his fingers while saying “Mommy?” or “Daddy?” as if he was asking us what it was. After only a couple of “trips” to that “EXIT” sign, he already knew that those four letters were E-X-I-T or T-I-X-E or I-T-X-E (yes, keep on reshuffling…it doesn’t matter).

I treated those “trips” to that sign as purely play but it turned out to be a learning opportunity for him.

As time went by, he would ask us the letters that he could see around. He’s now familiar with alphabet. He would usually name the letters that he’s seen…not always correct but he is most of the time.

Do I ask him to sit down and study or memorise the alphabet? No. Never. Is he a genius? I don’t think so.

How have I made him familiar with the alphabet? I let him be the child who plays and explores. I build up his curiosity. I take him out. We ride on a bus and train and ferry and I let him hold the tickets, which have letters and numbers printed on it. I give him the receipts from cafe or supermarket.

And of course, we sing the alphabet songs.

His fingers and the window with condensation are his pen and paper in the morning.

So in case you get frustrated because your four- or five-year-old child can’t tell you what letter it is that you are pointing at, play with him. Let him play. Let him explore. Go out. Find a stick or twig, use it as your pen and start writing the alphabet on the ground. Go to the beach and write the alphabet on the sand with your fingers or rocks.

Learning can be fun. Let learning happen naturally. Let your child learn how to learn. Let him have fun in learning. Let him play while learning. Let him learn through play. Let him be a child!

The Labyrinth in My Mind

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I’ve been wanting to write since after my appointment with my doctors earlier today. There’s so much that I would like to write. But I don’t know how to start. I don’t know exactly what to write about.

 

Should I write about exactly what the doctors discussed with me? Should I write about the special blood test result that they already received from UK and Australia?

 

Should I write about my single-fibre EMG and Nerve Conduction tests that were done earlier? About how it felt to have a needle inserted into my muscles and being moved around my muscles with those tingling electric shocks?

 

Should I write about acetylcholine? And what should I write about acetylcholine? Its formula or IUPAC name or molar mass or its chemical structure that I learnt from Organic Chemistry and Biochemistry classes back in Uni? Or should I write about how it was discussed by my doctors today?

 

Should I write about Myasthenia Gravis? What about that? About how it can present itself as Guillain-Barré Syndrome? About the medicines that I might need to take, which I hope I wouldn’t have to because once I take such then there’s another medicine to take to prevent the side effects of the main medicine?

 

Should I write about me having to wait for another set of days until the other special blood test results arrive from UK? Or about the scan that should be done on my thymus gland and why it should be done?

 

If someone dares to get into and to explore inside my mind now, he or she might feel how it is to be in a labyrinth.

 

Just when I thought that I have been recovering big time from Guillain-Barré Syndrome, the doctors discussed with me what my condition has been most likely instead of GBS.  And as if GBS was neither rare nor complex enough, the doctors consider that my condition is the rarer and more complex one. The truth is that even if I’ve never wanted to have GBS, I’d rather have it than MG.

 

Looking at the bright side, at least my doctors don’t simply make me take any medications unless all symptoms and test results perfectly match one another. And this whole thing has made me witness the real life “Grey’s Anatomy” (Neurology edition).

 

I’m still hoping and praying for the best.

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.”

 

My 2.5-Year-Old Son Made Me Cry Tonight

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If you have managed to read my very long first post here, you already know that I have Guillain Barré Syndrome.

GBS has made it hard for me to stand up from low-levelled seats. It has made it hard for me to sit up from lying position. It has made it difficult for me to swallow. It has made it difficult for me to shampoo and comb my hair.

Worst is that it has made me so incapable to lift and carry my two sons. It has made it impossible for me to play with my sons the way I used to.

Yes, GBS has made me feel so USELESS!

Who would want to be in the same situation that I’m in nowadays? Who wouldn’t feel sad? Who wouldn’t feel bad? Who wouldn’t wish to just die?

But each time that I see my very young boys, I can’t help but pray for a miracle. I pray that, in just a blink of my eyes, I am back to my normal self. I pray that, as I take my very next breath, I am strong enough to lift and carry my baby. I pray that, within a millisecond, I can dance, jump and run again with my toddler. I pray that all of these have just been parts of a bad dream and that, as soon as I wake up, I’ll feel that I have never experienced the wrath of GBS.

I know how and how much my sons have been affected by what has happened to me. My 5-month-old baby was crying earlier and my husband had a hard time to make him stop crying. We could hear our baby say “Mom-my! Mom! Mom-my!” Being able to hear my baby call “Mommy” now would have been a song to my ears. But how could it sound like a beautiful song to my ears if he’s saying that while he’s crying yet I couldn’t do anything? It became a torture to my heart!

And my toddler was making different sorts of requests that I could have done and given should I have not been suffering from GBS. This whole experience has stolen motherhood from me!

So tonight as I put my toddler to sleep, I whispered to him, “Sorry, Mommy got sick. I know it’s been hard for you.”

“Don’t worry, Mommy. I love you!”

He said. Then he touched the back of my neck and pulled me towards him and hugged me so tight. All I could say was “thank you” and I started to cry so hard. With that he replied before kissing me on my forehead,

“It’s OK, Mommy. Don’t worry, be happy. Gabrian here. I love you.”

 

I then realised that I must have done something really good in my life.