On my mind

Dear Baby Elephant,

I need to record this before I forget all about it.

Last week, mommy made you a 'tent' in the study with 2 chairs, my blanket and pegs. We were reading in our tent using our flashlights. You chose the super bright one and gave mommy the black one which gives of relatively dim light haha! So I had to keep asking you to shine your torch on our book so I could continue reading to you.

I explained what we could do while camping and while I moved on to reading the children's encyclopedia to you, you kept repeating the word 'camping' to yourself. Haha! I could almost hear the fascination growing in your head as you looked around, felt the breeze of the fan blowing and cuddled with mommy under the cushions. I had told you that it would be cold if we camped outdoors and would need to keep ourselves warm in the tent. Also, that we usually sit n crouch a little in tents as they aren't high enough for us to stand up in.

So then we continued reading about nature, plants, manmade inventions and animals and mommy forgot all about the time, until grandma and Aunty A started calling you out for dinner.

I crawled out of the tent and told you we could set up camp another day. That was when you started crying... You refused to come out of the tent! Argh!!! So I sat down and talked to you a little more from outside the tent and after you calmed down a little, I switched on the room lights and told you I needed your help to pack up. You started crying again and when I unpegged the blanket, you started sobbing uncontrollably.... Not the insistent, insolent or whiny type of cry. It sounded to me like a genuine cry for help.., because you loved the experience of 'camping' with mommy and having attention lavished on you. I would have continued our camping but there are things that need to be done everyday. There is a time for play and a time for other things like meals, baths and naps. Be assured that mommy knows how you feel even when we don't do everything you want right there and then.

Mommy loves you, my baby elephant!

LB and BL

My little, big boy and my big, little boy.

Baby elephant has become somewhat clingy these days and wants to be carried and cuddled lots. Yes I give in to these requests within reason.

Chris is getting big and tall. Plus he no longer behaves so much like a baby anymore.

Still my little sweet peas though!

Myopia

You know when your child is born and as you gaze adoringly upon the miracle of his existence, time seems to stand still? Indeed, time does stand still in our hearts, because at that moment, our perspective pierces through the superficial and no matter how slimy/wrinkly/old-man/alien looking your child looks, we say he/she is perfect. Doesn't matter what religious background we're from or even if we are religionless. Perfect, right.

Then one day you realize you're asking questions like "why can't my child do this yet? Is he slow? Is there something wrong with him?". Even if we manage to maintain some of that perspective we had at his/her birth (let's call this the eternal perspective, just cos, there's no time to explain why so just go along with this label, even if you do think it sounds ridiculous), other people will very kindly remind us.

I find myself suffering from myopia of this sort. I was worried when Chris wasn't sitting stably the day he turned 6 months. Now I worry about when he'll
start pulling himself up. Holding our hands, he can pull himself up, but he doesn't yet have the tendency to or perhaps has not discovered how to pull up using furniture or any props around him.

So as if I don't worry enough to make myself sick, I encountered a certain someone (actually a stranger! A cab driver!) who asked me why baby elephant isn't able to read yet. Being the polite person I am, I just shrugged and said that I didn't know. Yes, I shrugged because if I arrogantly or nonchalantly answered, I would get badgered about my lackadaisical attitude towards my son's development. F*** right? Having to pretend so I'm left alone?

I do admit I'm not truly worried about when he starts to read. It is the interest that is more important and more sustainable than the ability. But I do have my moments when I wonder if I'm ignorant and not helping my kids develop at their optimum pace. These are the moments I feel quite enraged by such comments and want to lash out at people for giving me undue and unnecessary pressure. This conventional, kiasu, hot-housing method is NOT what I think my kids need. It's not whether I want it a certain way that is different from the mainstream ideas, it's just not the best way for them.

What's the best way then? It depends on what you want to achieve. If I merely wanted my kids to grow up being Mensa card wielding, president scholarly type of doctors, lawyers, architects, then maybe hot housing is the way to go. Will it make a difference to them on their deathbeds (yes, their's not mine) what type of career they had and how much money they made? I doubt it.

I'm not saying I want to bring up joyful and secure but non ambitious and non focused adults. I'm just saying that they shouldn't grow up overly preoccupied by what society thinks of them. I'm saying their foundation should be predicated on more sturdy values and not on trends or peer pressure. I think the latter preys on human weakness. I don't think that's the way to go. No way, Jose, no.

I need to look further into the horizon and reclaim that eternal perspective again, to see that my kids are perfect creations. Hell, not only mine, but all kids are. They will grow at their own pace and reach their personal bests. I need to help them drown out the noise that distracts them and perhaps put on blinkers if necessary. I need to appreciate the present but not get caught up by it. Because the present does not foretell the future accurately. Kids don't develop according to a straight line or a smooth curve.

As my rant ends, I am reminded of a special lady who has an autistic daughter. She put it very succinctly for me. "My only expectations of my daughter are that she can feed and bathe herself. She is what she is and I love her". I cannot ever repeat or type her words without tearing up. I see her around still, with her daughter, and I know she wasn't paying lip service to the crowd when she said those words. Just to qualify, it doesn't mean she has no aspirations for her daughter. Just that whatever she is, is good enough.

The Perfect Love Affair

No one knows how perfect and how intense the emotions run between mother and child except for the two of them. How the child yearns for the mother and constantly turns to her for nourishment, comfort and entertainment, and everything else too actually. How the mother starts to yearn for her child the moment she steps out of the house without him. How she hurries when she has errands to run so she can reunite with him sooner. How she wears her heart on her sleeve because of him. How when she hears his cries, her own eyes sting and threaten to well up and often do, when she hears or sees fear or desperation in her child.

Then the child grows and slowly, mother is no longer the sole source of nourishment and comfort. The memories of the time of constant yearning for mother fades into a distant dream. The heart remembers but the mind can no longer cling on to the memories.

The mother grows too. She grows to fulfill other responsibilities. To add more income to the household. To meet the different needs of the child. Her memories fade into a haze as she constantly struggles to meet the present needs.

They both speak with their tongues now, the language of adults, no longer the unspoken understanding they had as mother and infant. Sometimes words get in the way. When the child can't quite yet explain himself fully but wants to. When the mother can't yet help the child to understand her words fully but wants to.

The mother is tempted by the urge to hang on to all things babyish about her child but she must let go. Her growing child reminds her of that everyday. In the quiet recesses of her heart, she mourns the passing of time because her memories are being clawed away.

But it is true, that when something dies, something new and wonderful takes its place. The child still reaches out for his mother, but now with a blossoming personality, with idiosyncrasies that belong only to him and that surprise her everyday. These are the unspoken gifts the child continues to present to his mother.

How does the love affair end?

It never will. It may grow cold or it may continue to blossom. This is how I want mine to continue:

The mother listens and still speaks to her sons with her heart. With every passing heartbeat, her love grows deeper for them. Neither distance nor the passing of time can weaken the bond forged in this perfect love affair between mother and child.

Only Child

My sunday school teacher used to tell us that God loves us (His creations) as if we were his only child(ren), despite the world being made up of billions of people. It was one of those teachings that intrigued me, because it made me feel special, and yet I never found myself fully convinced, because it seemed impossible. It was like the concept of Santa Claus. You find it impossible to believe one man could deliver all the Christmas presents in the world in just one night, but you want to believe in him anyway, just because his existence makes us feel special and desired. As I grew into an adult, the cynicism that creeped in persuaded me that this teaching might just be a feel good tactic aimed at keeping me faithful and obedient.

I'm glad to say reality has bitten cynicism in the ass. As I was talking to Chris yesterday, I caught myself unawares as I told him I loved him as if he were my only child. Several instances, when I'm spending one on one time with baby Elephant, I feel as if he were my only child. Not that I forget one when I'm with the other, but it's as if I'm drawn into their world and am consumed by their presence, their needs, likes and dislikes at that moment.

A dear friend asked me, if having two kids resulted in my love being divided, because in terms of time spent with each one, it certainly feels that way, to all parties involved. However, the intensity and the quality of the emotions are multiplied somewhat. I cannot explain how this is even possible, but it is.


To baby Elephant, I love you as if you were my only child and you are more than good enough for me.

To Chris, you may have arrived second, but I love you as if you were my only child, and you are more than enough for me.

'Nuff said.

Two faced

Two different faces, two different moods. The time difference, half an hour - a feed.

I haven't been able to capture his full smiles on camera yet, because they are "expensive" and fleeting the moment they appear. They catch you unawares, and you wonder what it was you did to make him smile. You try to replicate it but it doesn't work. This boy has a mind of his own, it's pretty obvious. But you know what? I'm happy that his eyes follow mommy around most of the time. He smiles quite alot for me and it makes the endless night feeds and the constant carrying and patting/rocking gently all worth it. My arms ache, my back is stiff and my neck is slightly sore. I need more rest, but in the larger scheme of things, and seeing how quickly baby Elephant grew up, I relish time with Chris even more. Already, he is eight weeks old and fast approaching the two month mark. Where did my newborn go?

Baby of the family

He was dumped on my chest straight after birth. It was a magical feeling. Babies aren't exactly cute when they're just out, but there isn't a greater feeling than to hold and kiss your little one still slimy and bloody. I guess that's just me.

Final faceoff

Well, not really, because a faceoff assumes there are at least two opposing parties willing to engage in a disagreement, a fight, a tussle......

Today's ramblings involves a somewhat sensitive issue, my mom and I. As much as I want to keep from writing about this, I can't, because it's an issue I hold close to my heart. I hope to write about this only once because right now, it seems I've emerged from the 'faceoff' less angry and with new hope.

What I initially intended was a faceoff of sorts, because I was angry and hurt. I wanted to antagonise and wanted things to blow up so that there would be the release I hoped for. Of course we know this type of release is only temporary and eventually leads to more anger and pain. The outcome was not what I planned for but was innately what I desired and I attribute the resolution all to my mom.

It wasn't any particular statement she made. The content of our quarrel was not friendly. The form however, well mostly my mom's, was tired and frustrated, but it betrayed the undertones of love. We had to stop talking because baby Elephant had come running up to us, asking "why?" and Chris was crying for more milk. So off we went our separate ways and the night feed that followed allowed me ample time to mull over the quarrel in its entirety.

I realised then that none of the past hurts mattered anymore, because they happened decades ago. My mom could not even remember certain things she did which hurt me so much. That must be possible only because she never intended to hurt and that she just wasn't herself for those years. Perhaps it was a survival mechanism, acting strong and on the offensive all the time. It is unfortunate that her children had to undergo those experiences with her and often took the brunt of her anger.

 I learnt during the quarrel, that my mom still cared even though she said she gave up long ago. She still comes over every single day to take care of her grandkids and to make sure her daughter is well fed. Even if she thought she didn't care, she's wired to care and to love. Hence the constant nagging to do things better. I used to and maybe still at times, see her nagging as criticism, but have learnt to lighten up and let her have her way most times, because I actually  know her reasons for doing many things.

I am humbled by both the older generation as well as my children. May I continue to maintain this humility and openess to learning from them. May I one day be able to teach or impart some life lessons to my children that they will appreciate too.

Thoughtful Tuesdays

This picture was taken on Tuesday :)

I started a journal for baby Vader before he was born, so all his ultrasound pictures are in there. However, I only ever wrote in it twice, before this week. After he was born, the atmosphere at home was hardly pleasant (at least for me), not because of baby Vader, but because I was a new mum trying to be a good mum while still trying to please everyone around me. On hindsight, I think my tendency to be self-conscious and worry about what other people feel or think tends to get in the way of my effectiveness and most importantly, my joy.

With the younger one coming in 8 weeks or less, the same fears are creeping up in me, but this time round, I'm a little calmer, a little more ready to face and tackle situations as they come. I guess I now know that fewer things matter, but these few that do, I hold closer to my heart.

Now back to the journal. These are personal letters from mummy to baby Vader, not just a description of how he has grown and when he's crossed his milestones (actually I don't seem to be tracking them very diligently.... dunno why leh). The letters are about my thoughts on our interactions, my fears as a mum (just so he knows I know I'm not perfect but I'm trying) and certain explanations on how I see the world and maybe, just maybe, he'll learn that while there is disparity between our ideals and how the actual world actually functions, we can learn to appreciate the imperfections, to be more tolerant of things around us, to see that there is beauty in life. Perhaps this journal (as with most parent-child interactions) benefits me more than him. When I try to show him glimpses of beauty and joy in our life, my eyes also begin to seek out the blessings surrounding us.

My reality

My blog needs more pictures, I was complaining to Vader the other day. Not because I need them to decorate the blog or to capture the memories for myself, but because I think, many times, they can better communicate the experience at any one time than words. Because either Vader or I am behind the camera, maybe baby Elephant will one day understand why we take certain pictures of him, and what emotions we wished to capture and freeze in time. Perhaps these pictures will help him catch glimpses of our reality with him when he is still not fully aware of his.

Here are some pictures of baby Elephant in action.

I finally figured out how to reposition my pictures, very rudimentary stuff I know... but I was puzzled by it hahhahhahaha.......

I was catching up with a friend the other day, and her daughter came to join us for dessert after school. She reached out to caress her daughter's cheek and hair, but of course, her daughter responded by backing away and brushing away her hand. Humoured, I commented that I used to do the exact same thing when my mum tried to touch my hair or cheek. Her daughter smiled in agreement, like she felt I understood why she backed away. What I failed to add, was that now that I have a son, I understood why mothers instinctively reach out to touch their children. I find myself constantly touching baby Elephant's hair, cheeks, kissing his head and eyes when he's asleep. I think to mothers, our children will always be miracles of creation. For me, I know baby Elephant is a gift that I've been honoured with and that I don't deserve. So I reach out to touch him to convince myself that he is real, that it is not a gift I hope for or that I'm dreaming about. When I put my face to his head and inhale his sweaty baby smell, my eyes close unconsciously as I let myself be overtaken by his presence. Then his legs give hulk-like kicks against my arm, and he shrieks into my ear to be hugged or carried, and I know. I know this is as real as it gets. As quickly as my child sends me into a giddy fantasy about how sweet babies are, he also drags me back to reality at breakneck speed, when he bounces nonstop, reaches out for everything in sight to play with or for the next piece of furniture to pull himself up on.

We're always tempted to say, baby Elephant got this certain trait from me, or from Vader. Well, I'd like to pretend I can speak up for baby Elephant now and say that while he's certainly inherited our genes, he is still, a hundred percent himself. That is the reality I would like him to live out, that he needs to discover his own dreams, his own mission in life and live it.