we’ve established that she’s chosen pink to be her favourite colour. (why this is so, let’s just leave it at evolution, or wildly-successful media marketing.) i suppose it’s only fair to respect her choice, just as she respects mine. at the very least, i’ve made my case for all the other colours out there in the world, but too bad, none made the cut…

it didn’t take much to get her enthusiastic about joining the class, especially with other girls wearing – yes, pink. well, if you can’t beat it, use it to your own advantage, i say…

she’s indicated that she’s keen on continuing after this trial class, so we’ll keep the option open. i’m happy to let her try out other things too. soccer, maybe? or taekwondo, perhaps?

i’d say she’s lucky to have an older brother from whom she picks up a certain hardiness through their interactions, while still keeping to her natural predisposition for singing, dancing, and typical girly chatter. which is all fine because what i ultimately want is to empower her with just the right amount of tough, for a healthy sense of self and individuality.

i have to admit though, those pastel pink leotards, stockings and tutus? they look SO DAMN cute. (i AM a sucker for girliness. really, i am.)

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post-note: in their defence, they’re really not that bad at cleaning up after themselves. when i’m in a good mood to humour them, they are pretty easily motivated. my trick is to turn it into a game (variations of “lets pick uppppp… the RED lego pieces! now… the BLUE ones!… aaaand the yellow ones! faster faster, quickkk! now close the box, don’t let the lego blocks come out! argghhh!!” -> imagine a 33-yr-old woman prancing about animatedly at this point), or a competition (“let’s see WHO’S THE FASTEST!” coz siblings just loveeee to outdo each other, don’t they?), and they’re at that age when they still fall for such trickery.

there’s also another trick i employ to get them to voluntarily do their nightly 3-step routine of peeing, feet-washing and teeth-brushing. by a sheer stroke of luck, i’ve made book-reading my bargaining chip, my ‘time currency’. when it’s nearing bedtime, i’d start with a high number of say, 5 books (the boy would negotiate for a bigger number), and for every few minutes they dawdle and delay, i’d work my way down to 4… 3… 2… 1… 0 books. (it usually works out to on average of 3 books, which is about the number of books i have the energy for after a long day anyway – sometimes i’d cheat and choose shorter stories heh heh.) now whenever it’s nearing bedtime, the boy will ask “how many books now, mummy?” and off they go….

speaking of books, they’ve concurred with my proposed policy of one malay book per night as part of my on-going Speak Melayu Campaign. but don’t worry, i do not borrow from the library dubious ones like this.

stumbling upon solutions (and subtly winning battles) makes me happy (and slightly smug – please don’t slap me.)

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being the hard-headed april-born Arian that she is, she’ll insist on putting together her own outfit, and will protest when we overrule her choice. many battles have taken place when we veto her decisions – especially in footwear, her final resistance at the door before one party concedes defeat – and are the usual cause of our delays.

here, modelling her brother’s grotty old crocs, just because it matches her shirt (she’s big on matching of colours, something i’m to blame for, really).

speaking of battles, have been reading amy/chua’s book on the Tiger Mother. while she may come across a little nuts (major momzilla alert!), i strangely empathise with her, agree with her opinions, admire her values, and envy her sheer tenacity.

there’s this chapter that i particularly liked, for her in-your-face honesty to her kids (and the reader), which reflects in her own way, her high regard for her kids and her resolute belief that they can and MUST do better, even in something as seemingly trivial as a birthday card.

(to put this in context and how it relates to another important story, you have to read the book holistically – and i recommend it, if anything, for her sense of humour.)

*************************************************

… Lulu handed me her “surprise”, which turned out to be a card. More accurately, it was a piece of paper folded crookedly in half, with a big happy face on the front. Inside, “Happy Birthday, Mommy! Love, Lulu” was scrawled in crayon above another happy face. The card couldn’t have taken Lulu more than twenty seconds to make.

I gave the card back to Lulu. “I don’t want this,” I said. “I want a better one – one that you’ve put some thought and effort into. I have a special box, where I keep all my cards from you and Sophia, and this one can’t go in there.”

“What?” said Lulu in disbelief. I saw beads of sweat start to form on Jed’s forehead.

I grabbed the card again and flipped it over. I pulled out a pen from my purse and scrawled “Happy Birthday Lulu Whoopee!” I added a big sour face. “What if I gave you this for your birthday, Lulu – would you like that? But I would never do that, Lulu. No – I got you magicians and giant slides that cost me hundreds of dollars. I get you huge ice cream cakes shaped like penguins, and I spend half my salary on stupid sticker and eraser party favours that everyone just throws away. I work so hard to give you good birthdays! I deserve better than this. So I reject this.” I threw the card back.

“May I please be excused for a second?” Sophia asked in a small voice. “I need to do something.”

“Let me see it, Sophia. Hand it over.”

Eyes wide with terror, Sophia slowly pulled out her own card. It was bigger than Lulu’s, made of red construction paper, but while more effusive, equally empty. She had drawn a few flowers and written, “I love you! Happy Birthday to the Best Mommy in the World! #1 Mommy!”

“That’s nice, Sophia,” I said coldly, “but not good enough either. When I was your age, I wrote poems for my mother on her birthday. I got up early and cleaned the house and made her breakfast. I tried to think of creative ideas and made her coupons that said things like ‘One Free Car Wash’.”

“I wanted to make something better, but you said I had to play piano,” Sophia protested indignantly.

“You should have gotten up earlier,” I responded.

Later that night, I received two much better birthday cards, which I loved and still have.

****************************************************

personally, i doubt i’d have the heart to “throw” a birthday card back at my kids. i’d be lucky enough if they could write ‘happy birthday mummy’ without any help. heck, i’d be lucky to even get a card in the first place.

unfortunately, i’m too soft, and truthfully, not driven enough to go the Tiger Mother way. at five, i still let the boy wriggle his way out of boring tasks like writing or counting or reading or colouring after a few minutes. to add a musical instrument to that? unthinkable. (ms chua, by the way, makes each kid practice the piano and the violin respectively for hours on end without toilet breaks and even rents the hotel lobby pianos/brings the violin for the girls to practice during their family vacations. just so they don’t slack off.)

so, our battles are different.

for example, there’s this one thing that always makes me go absolutely ballistic – that is, when they make a terrific mess with their toys/books in one spot, then move on to do something else without cleaning up first. that’s when the roars and claws come out, and i’d maul them if i could, but i can’t – instead, i admonish them, threaten them, sweet talk them, bribe them, put them in the naughty corner and a few times when none of the above worked on the little one – yes, the hard-headed april-born Arian one – i plonk her outside the house, close the door and won’t let her in until she promises to clean up – which she invariably does, after some drama filled with tears and wails, scuttling back in like a tiny mouse released from a tiger’s paw. the brother has smartened up, though; he’d take it upon himself to either: a) complain to me about his sister’s mess (preemptive measure); b) scolds her (preventive measure); or c) simply volunteers to tidy up after her when he senses the impending wrath of the tiger (give up!).

maybe i should pick better, more worthwhile battles.

then again, i imagine there’ll be many, MANY more battles ahead of me as they grow older, and these right now are the easiest ones yet…

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i have a particular memory of a swimming lesson as a kid – me, miserable at being dragged to the pool with my brother on a scorching sunday morning, looking forlornly towards the bleachers where my (late) dad was lounging, mentally concocting a plan to pretend i was drowning and catch his attention (failing to do so on both counts), wishing i was home, still asleep or lazily watching tv instead.

why was i miserable? well, you gotta remember, this was hana-who-disliked-physical-activities-and-anything-sports-related. a puny hana, disadvantaged against the bigger, stronger kids. and you know how hard swimming tests are? they make you dive and touch the bottom of the deep pool, then they make you wear pajamas and time you to take them off while treading water, and go underwater to BLOW INTO YOUR PJ PANTS and tie the ends to create a float! i mean, for heavens’ sake!

needless to say, i passed (trauma aside), and while i’m not sure i’ll be going anywhere near the waters in pajamas like, ever, i’ve thankfully retained the ability to tread water, do breast strokes, and generally… well, stay afloat. it even came useful one time, when a jetski i was on with my dad in phuket overturned, and as i treaded water, i remember watching my mom, who was on the shore watching us, and thinking, thank god she didn’t come on the jetski ride because she didn’t know how to swim and would surely have drowned if she did.

only now, as an adult and a parent, do i begin to appreciate my parents’ effort at making me go for those lessons despite my reluctance. and i imagine now, how bored my dad must’ve felt having to send and wait for us every sunday morning when he could’ve been lazing in the comfort of home on a sunday morning… but send and wait for us he did, and there i was, resenting how he’d sat on the bleachers without caring how *i* felt…….. tsk.

(too late, but.. thank you, dad. for swimming lessons. that, and driving lessons – but that’s for another story.)

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

so we all know how important water safety is, and how easily kids take to the water the younger they are, yadda yadda.

well, yeah, i think so too.

initially meant to send just aniq, but decided to arrange for auni in a toddler group since the timing was favourable, and surprise surprise, the younger one proved to be the more gungho between them.

like a fish to the water.

her first lesson was short and basic but very useful nonetheless. you would think nothing of it, but the accomplishment the little fishies felt just going in and out of the pool with the right method (butt first, grab the blue line to go in, use your arms then legs to go out), you could literally see it in their tiny faces – rays of joy bursting through their toothy grins. SO CUTE OK.

end of lesson. fish bait: CANDY.

aniq joined an ongoing class, so he had the disadvantage of being with more advanced swimmers who were already swimming independently. so what does a kiasu mommy do when her kid’s the runt? why, she sits at the edge of the pool and gave instructions on how to blow bubbles underwater while the coach wasn’t looking, of course. :p but being in a mixed group helps too because it made him more compelled to try to do what they can do.

so anyway, we made great progress in just one afternoon – from never being independent in a deep pool, to both diving fearlessly into it. sheesh, why didn’t i do this earlier?

swim forth, little fishies.

(maybe next time i should just stick to the bleachers…)

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so our weekends are quickly turning into a vortex of activities as we’ve added two more to his weekend itinerary – reading and swimming.

am not exactly proud for sending him to the former, really. i mean, a mother who was an english & literature major… quite embarrassing, doncha think? oh, the irony! but i tell ya, teaching your own kid is quite a different animal altogether. the cajoling, the threatening, the negotiating, the emotional blackmails, the guilt trips… they never taught you all that, you know.

but as much as you hate it, and are very likely perpetuating the vicious cycle of putting unnecessary pressure and expectations upon a child when he’s probably not developmentally ready, you do it aaaanyway, because the harsh reality is: it’s terrifyingly competitive out there, and being a full-time working mother with little time (and frankly, patience), you swallow your pride and do what it takes to keep him on par with – if not ahead of – his peers.

it’s sink or swim, honey.

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the kids are going through a chameleon phase, and when i say chameleon phase, i’m not saying they’re creeping around, blending with the background and changing colours or anything.

it happens that i’d picked out eric carle’s ‘The Mixed-up Chameleon’ the other day and the kids just loved it; then we went to the library and found this really adorable book about a sad Blue Chameleon which we all enjoyed as well; then i found this book at popular bookshop about how Chameleons are Cool, and now i know that chameleons don’t change colours to match their surroundings but actually do so to reflect their mood (though they’re mostly grumpy). and heck, just to complete the ‘theme’, i’m almost a step away from making paper mache chameleons and finding a real life chameleon as a pet (but they live in madagascar – see, another useful trivia from a kids’ book, right there). but… that’d be bordering on obsession.

here i interrupt this story briefly to mention that auni had also, during the above-mentioned library trip, decided to insist on borrowing this malay book called ‘Musang yang Licik dengan Ayam Betina Katik’. i’d chuckled at her choice, but indulged her anyway, and when i read to them in my best impression of a storyteller on a Suria channel’s children’s programme, they were SO tickled. i figured it must be due to: (a) the words ‘licik’ and ‘katik’ (you gotta admit, they’re funny-sounding words); (b) mummy’s a great storyteller (the ghosts of cikgus past seemed to have possessed me); (c) me reading aloud a malay book is quite the novelty (maybe i should read Berita Harian aloud to them on a daily basis – but nah, that’s like reading one bad story after another…); or (d) it was a good story – well, it’s basically the same ol’ premise of cunning fox trying to outdo a hen, finally catches the hen, but hen outdoes fox, fox gets his retribution, moral of the story, the end. reaaaally mind-blowing stuff.

so back to the chameleons.

now, if you’re around my age and have grown up with 80’s pop music, the first thing that’ll pop into your head when you hear the word ‘chameleon’ would be Culture Club’s classic number one hit, ‘Karma Chameleon’. come on, ‘fess up, it was, wasn’t it??

well, i’m afraid that was also what happened with the daddy. like on auto-mode (and repeat mode), he’d go “karma karma karma karma, karma chameleonnnn…!” everytime the kids shove one of the chameleon books under his nose. of course, the kids think he’s nuts.

so, being the ever-resourceful net-savvy daddy that he is, he typed in ‘karma chameleon’ in youtube, and played the video to enlighten the kids and further immerse them in the ‘theme’. needless to say, they were quite fascinated. i mean, wouldn’t you if you were a kid and saw this?

a clown of indeterminate gender in make-up with a funny hat and psychedelic costume singing on a boat with other circus freaks! plus, hello, catchy tune? yes, they asked to repeat it a few times.

so during bedtime yesterday, after the youtube sing-a-long session, the boy asked – “mummy, what is ka-ma?” well, i said, it’s like when you do something good to someone, something good will happen to you, and if you do something bad to someone, something bad will happen to you.

and whaddaya know? he exclaimed, “OH I KNOW I KNOW! like this book, right??” and promptly dug out ‘Musang yang Licik dengan Ayam Betina Katik’ and flipped it open to this page:

for a while my jaw dropped – it totally did NOT occur to me to make that connection myself, because the context and language i’d explained the concept in was different, but yeah, i told him, dammit, he’s right. and he beamed.

looks like si ibu yang cilik licik was outdone by her anak katik after all.

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Lollipop kids with mummy, originally uploaded by izadd.

signed up for a sampler drama class at act3 for the two of them last weekend… but think i’ll stick to LW – that is, IF i decide to keep the boy at it next year. i mean, there are so many other “enrichment” classes out there we’ve not explored, and i think he’s proven to be expressive enough for any more ’speech’ and ‘drama’…

let’s see, there’s sports (soccer? swimming?), music (drums? keyboard?), language (phonics?), and i guess what should be top priority: madrasah (*gulp*).

OR…. we could just be radical and skip the whole enrichment-programmes-on-weekend thing.

kiasu vs bochap parent? i’m still undecided.

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two and a half years, and we have her insisting she doesn’t need a pull-up for bedtime (but not before asking to pee at least three times before going to sleep!). she’s been going without in the day for three months now, but we put her to bed in them just in case, and they’ve been dry in the morning for the past few weeks, and i probably should’ve just let her go without it earlier coz it’s irresponsible to the environment and all, i mean, what DO you do with dry-but-used overnight pull-ups anyway, right?! you don’t, say… recycle a dry-but-used sanitary pad, after all. O_o

so i figure, my slight reluctance to let go of her pull-ups was for a solely sentimental reason – it’s most likely the last diapered baby bum we’d ever have. you know, all puffy and cushiony and, like j.lo’s best assets, looks SO good in tights and pants.

now, let’s hope she proves herself right in the morning…

update: aaaandd she’s dry!

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i guess i spoke too soon – “inspired” by discussions on the merits of the Peter & Jane series, i managed to persuade aniq to try it out one evening, by insisting that it’s “VERY EASY”.

it took a week of frustrations (on both sides) as we plodded through book 1a before he surprisingly picked up speed and went on to 1b.

i think one of the challenges i faced teaching the kid (other than the typically boyish playfulness and impatience) was having a younger sibling interrupt us ever so often – e.g. she’d demand for HER book to be read, or ask for a drink, or chatter on and on, or be plain mischievous and cheeky, as evident in the video below:

in any case, i have to say i feel a liiiitle bit relieved at having made actual progress in our “thorny but exciting” road to literacy.

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i’d been growing a liiiiittttle anxious that the boy is ending his K1 year and turning 5 in a few months’ time, and was still resisting our nudges to start reading independently.

sure, he knows his ABCs (occasionally mixing up the small letters ‘b’ and ‘d’, and a few others, especially when distracted – and boyyy is he easily distracted), and would randomly seek my confirmation that ’snake’ starts with ’s’, or ‘finger’ starts with ‘f’, or ‘Honda’ starts with ‘h’, or Toyota starts with ‘t’. (his current fascination is car brands, btw – according to him, we drive a ‘Honda e-way’, and a Beetle is a ‘Boxdragon’, which i repeatedly try to correct with the german pronunciation of ‘Volkswagen’, which in turn confuses him more since ‘V’ is ‘F’ and ‘W’ is ‘V’ in german… and his favourite car? a PROTON. gawwwwd, run me down with a Boxdragon, now!)

so anyway, i’d attempted an evergreen beginner-readers’ classic, the Peter & Jane series, which i’d read to him since he was still a crawling mass, but perhaps the too-early introduction, plus the antiquated illustrations and the stilted flow of words, did not interest him very much to pursue the perusal of Peter, Jane and their dog’s antics and adventures.

his preschool curriculum doesn’t impose spelling tests or rigourous worksheets, which i’m quite thankful for actually, coz mummy thinks he spends plenty of time in school in the day already and all she wants to do after coming home from work is play and talk and not have stressful evenings of drilling and cajoling a preschooler to “finish up his homework”, coz there’ll be a disgusting amount of years ahead yet for that. :S

having said that, i AM amazed at kids his age or younger already adept at doing spelling and math and various languages in other preschools. and VERY intimidated.

i think aniq’s reluctance to read probably has to do with a lack of confidence, of getting things wrong or from having been compared to his older cousins or friends who are already skilled readers. but a few factors are slowly helping him overcome this.

first, the sense of competitiveness he feels with his sister, who is admittedly displaying a quick grasp of language and literacy. and second, the lure of a reward….. now i KNOWWWW early childhood educators out there are probably GASPING in disapproval at this; that one should not ‘bribe’ a child to learn a skill that should be an intrinsic reward by itself, blablabla, but aww, what’s a little carrot at the end of the stick, i say? ;p oh stoppit, i DO all the other things i’m supposed to do too; bedtime stories, reading aloud, heaps of encouragement and praise, going to the library, be seen reading myself, blablabla, heyyy i’ve done the googling. but maybe some kids are just motivated… erm, differently?

in any case, this was the first book he’d agreed to read aloud in full, and it was quite an exasperating task to get him to recognise the words, what with his attention span. but after i’d video-ed him a few times, he felt more confident and let’s hope he moves on to other more, hmm, ‘exciting’ books, yes?

feel free to guess whether he memorised most, if not the entire thing, instead of actually reading the words, hehe.

oh, and so what WAS his reward?

it was on sale. (yeah, corrupt AND stingy parents. tsk.)

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(a little note: about the part on the rattlesnake, coincidentally, an episode of The Pink Panther was shown after we’d read this a few times together, where the panther accidentally stole a basket containing a baby instead of food during a picnic scene and in an effort to pacify the said baby, now crying, he’d removed the end of the rattlesnake’s tail to give to the baby as a rattle, and i guess this left such an impression with the kids that they associate it with this particular rattlesnake every time.)

(also, another note: they will inevitably ask the same question in every story with illustrations – “where’s the daddy/mummy/baby?” not sure why but there’s always a concern for the whereabouts of a missing family member in the story.)

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was discussing insurance for the girl the other day (her brother’s was done when he was two too), and our financial advisor estimated we’d need a cool $85k in 16 years time if she were to go for a local tertiary education – i mean, IF we’re fortunate enough for her to want to pursue it, that is. (well, a mom’s gotta hope.)

made me wonder how much my parent forked out for mine, coz i have NO idea. they’d split costs – mom paid for my brother’s overseas education, dad paid for my local one. and i was fortunate enough to not have to repay any student loans whatsoever either. (dear dad, thank you for giving me my education. and while i’m at it, thank you too for paying for my driving lessons. and basically, for everything you spent on me. as my brother would constantly remind me, i was a spoilt princess – still am, yeah i know. :S)

so anyway, we’d settled on a whole life and term policy thing, same as her brother’s. i don’t know, i’m generally not very good with money (seeing how i’ve not been made to handle much of it in my life growing up), and just hope that things will work out for them in the future…

meanwhile, in the present, was updated of the girl’s progress in child care (she’s in a half-day programme for now). all good things so far. she especially likes the home corner and dress up corner (oh the gurly gurl she is turning out to be), storytelling and art, conversing with friends and teachers, discovering things, always the one to help distribute others’ water bottles… and i’ll spare you of the superlative adjectives her enthusiastic teachers had for her. :p

one thing the teacher DID ask me to work on with her was fine motor skill, in particular threading work, which she, for some reason, did not like doing. i’m guessing she doesn’t have the patience yet for it, but since it seemed like another activity we could do together at home, what the heck…

and the last thing we talked about was toilet training, which we all agreed she was pretty ready for. the past few weeks, she’d cooperated on the potty before bedtime, and the previous weekend she’d woken up, walked straight to our bed and asked to pee in the toilet, so i think all that reading of Princess Polly’s Potty came to fruition after all. well, that and the fact she has her older brother to model upon, and me, whom she follows to the toilet all the time to observe. (yes, that open-door policy still stands here at izadnhana’s abode, sigh.)

and so, am happy to report that this was her third day in preschool undiapered, and doing pretty okay (minor mishaps, ie. half-accidents, notwithstanding).

so yey to less diaper wastage! (and to mother earth, sorry we didn’t get started sooner).

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it was the first time for the quasi-playgroup-teacher-wannabe mommies conducting the baking session last weekend, and all we had were basic baking ingredients and an online recipe we’d never tried before. we were each sorta assigned to take on one activity and thankfully, Is took the lead for this one.

we went for a ‘thematic approach’.

we spelled, counted, measured, talked about what the ingredients did, passed around the vanilla essence for everyone to smell….

we scooped, stirred, broke eggs, took turns, resolved conflicts…

we rolled dough, created shapes, sprinkled rainbow sprinkles and chocolate chips…

and with the smell of cookies baking in the oven, we did some storytelling… bilingually, too.

and of course, we tasted the fresh, warm, home-baked cookies, nevermind the dubious hygiene level of the cookie-makers, lol. they tasted pretty good, actually, despite the fact that we didn’t follow the ingredients too closely (seeing how things kept spilling).

we balanced tea time with fruits and nuts and then it was free play…

and we got hungry again at dinnertime, so we made some pizza. the little chefs were actually more interested in piling stuff on the dough than eating the final product, though they did collectively run to the oven every few seconds to peep through the oven door. so the ones who eventually ate were the adults, who also got creative and designed their own satay pizza (izad’s family are in the satay business, so it’s a staple at every function – the satay and peanut sauce are awesome.)

inspired by the success of this playgroup session, we’ve assigned the daddies to take over the next one. something less domestic and more outdoorsy… though it’d be interesting if they could conduct, oh i don’t know… origami or scrapbooking, maybe?? :p

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P1100778, originally uploaded by izadd.

had the mid-year parent-teacher-conference with aniq’s teachers last saturday. nothing much we don’t already know, really. basically that he CAN’T KEEP STILL (his hands and mouth are always moving!), very expressive, not shy, and gets along with everyone… and no, he still doesn’t read, like 75% of his class (i asked!) but recognises most alphabets (though still gets some of them mixed up). and i suppose there IS improvement in those slightly legible chicken scrawls… lol. i know i’m not supposed to worry TOO much, and shouldn’t be comparing, and he IS a december baby, so tendency to have to catch up with his cohort… but he likes schooling and learning enough to not complain or whine about it at this point, and loves getting us to read to him, so i guess that’s good enough for now. (but dammit, off to phonics class you go to, little boy…)

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