Manglish, Singlish, No Diff-la

Not too long ago, Son No 3 was whining about how much work he had and he said, "Aiyoh, want to pengsan already!".

Pengsan? I was quite amused to hear such a local expression coming out of the babe's mouth. I haven't heard this word for a long, long time.

Hmm... Son No 3 is getting quite localised. Actually, he did not understand what pengsan meant. He just knew that was what his teacher would say when she had too much work. [Incidentally, pengsan is the Malay word for "faint".]

Yesterday, Son No 3 surprised me again when he asked me what is the meaning of "alamak". Apparently, his English teacher had used the exclamation in school. I told him it meant "Oh dear..." and that it is a Malay word.

Yes, amused I was, but at the back of my mind, I was also alarmed. I suppose there is nothing wrong with interjecting a local word or idiom into an English sentence. This is the mildest form of Manglish. But at school, children do pick up all forms of Manglish when they interact with other children.

We do not speak perfect English at home but we try to speak mostly Standard English. I admit we occasionally lapse into creole (which is what the linguists call this form of speech such as Manglish or Singlish) but I don't think it is often.

Son No 2 is not much better. When Son No 2 tells a story or relates an experience, he likes to begin, "One time ah, I did this and that...." And I will always correct his sentence and tell him to begin with "There was once I did this and that...".

On one occasion, he wanted to jump down the stairs and I warned him, "Don't jump!" His response was classic. "Where got I jump?!!"

Yes, he is beginning to speak the more serious form of Manglish. This is not unexpected because he goes to a Chinese primary school and the teachers there are probably the main culprits. This is the trade-off for going to a Chinese primary school. Luckily, Son No 2 likes to watch TV and that includes good edutainment channels like Animal Planet, Discovery, TVIQ and recently - and I was truly surprised by this - even the History channel. So his formal speech is quite OK.

I would like to think that the two boys can code-switch to Standard English when the occasion demands it. Most of the time, they can speak fairly well, though there is obviously room for improvement. I just hope there is no further deterioration.

Son No 1, though, almost always speaks Standard English. He has been attending premier schools since young, whether in Singapore or here in Malaysia, and his classmates mainly come from upper class English-speaking homes.

When he first started school here, he asked me what the word "action" meant. Of course, he knew the proper meaning of the word, but he has heard some of the locals here using it as a verb, as in "No need to action-la." I explained to him that action is akin to showing-off.

For me, I am used to hearing both Singlish and Manglish, and so I do not really spot any glaring difference between the two. The chief difference is that Singlish has more Hokkien/Teochew influence, while Manglish has more Malay influence.

Otherwise, both creoles are quite similar. Both creoles use the suffix "-lah" liberally, albeit in different forms as in "-leh" or "-lo". There is also a fondness to tag sentences with "-one", as in "It's not like that-one..." and to use "got" before any verb, to indicate the past tense, as in "I got eat already..."

I guess the commonality of Singlish and Manglish is the obvious manifestation of the "bond" that tie the people from Singapore and Malaysia as having the same roots. I wish more people will remember that.

Telematch

Son No 3 won a gold medal for his race, "Goblin's Hobble" during his Pre-School's Telematch cum Sports Day last Saturday.

The theme for the day was Magic Mogus and all the events were named after some magical creatures.

Son No 3's race was actually a three-legged race. He and his partner, Michael, anchored the race for his Blue Team and they bagged the gold. I must say the two boys showed very good team work.

Son No 3 was thrilled to bits and now his gold medal figures amongst his most prized possessions.

"I Am Gay!!!"

This morning, during breakfast, Son No 3 asked my hubby the meaning of "gay".

*Pause*

My hubby was tongue-tied for a while. I quickly interjected that "gay" means happy. One tends to forget that this young child is growing up in a fairly cloistered environment in a conservative society. What else could "gay" mean?

Then my innocent son took it one step further - he began practising his new-found knowledge by saying, "I am gay! I am gay!"

Err... this will not do. What if he said it publicly? Not that I have anything against gays, but still... it may offend some people and we must not forget that in this country, homosexuality is a crime.

To rectify the situation, I had no choice but to tell Son No 3 that he should just say "I am happy." I told him "happy" is a better word to use than "gay". No further explanation needed or provided.

Luckily, Son No 3 did not pursue the matter further and I was let off the hook.

*Relief*

But I am not the type to be satisfied with "curing the symptoms". I had to find out the root cause. What he asked this morning kept gnawing away at the back of my mind.

So later in the afternoon, after school, I casually asked Son No 3 where he learnt the word "gay". Son No 3 told me he discovered the word "gay" from YouTube. Alarm bells started ringing. I asked Son No 3 to show me the video that he had watched. I was surprised it was entitled, "Spongebob: If You Were Gay". To those without pre-school children, Spongebob is a popular cartoon character with a regular TV series. All my three children like to watch this cartoon.

But it was not a real episode from Spongebob, the cartoon series. The video was the product of some people putting together some Spongebob scenes and editing them to certain words to create a new video. Aiyoh, people are so free-ah.... kind of wu-liao, you know. Luckily, the video was quite innocent, no graphic images as I had feared ... But it goes to show once again what a minefield the internet can be.

Hmm... the two younger boys already knew that they should not simply go into YouTube without my permission. But since Son No 2 discovered that he could watch his favourite Pokemon episodes from YouTube, he has been visiting that site more often and thinking that that's all he is doing, I have relaxed my guard.

Looks like now I have to increase my vigilance again... Or maybe what this stay-at-home mom really needs is some sort of full-time Nanny Guard that will do a good job. Yes, that's probably my next course of action...

P/S: I hope Son No 3 will not ask me the meaning of "queer" next - I notice the word was spoken in the same video!

The Electric Plant

Today Son No 3 asked me another profound question.

He had earlier learnt that electricity was carried to our house via electric cables and that the electricity came from electric plants which could be normally found in the mountains.

"Who make the electric plants?"

"Engineers."

"Then who make flowers?"

"God."

"Why God make flowers but not electric plants?"

"Hmm... flowers are natural, but electric plants are made by people...."

(Pause)

"How the engineers know how to make electric plants?"

"Engineers go to University and they learn how to build all types of things."

"But not flowers?"

"Not flowers..."

"But why don't GOD make the electric plants?"

"Err...."

=^=

As the conversation continued, it dawned on me why Son No 3 was confused and why he kept drawing a parallel between the electric plant and the flower.

Son No 3 thought that the electric plant was actually a REAL organic plant - you know, the type with green leaves and all! LOL!

A real plant that could produce electricity???

Hmm... something for our environmentalists to think about...!

Belated Birthday Treat

Son No 3's birthday celebration ain't over yet!

Owing to our hectic schedules over the past 2 weeks, we have not had time to keep our promise to bring him to MegaKidz, the huge indoor playground at the Mid-Valley Megamall. It was to be his birthday treat. So yesterday, we finally made our way there. The children spent 4 hours there crawling through tunnels, sliding down the mega-slides and jumping at the bouncy castle. Hmm... it's a good way for them to expend all their excess energy :)


Good thing the place was located within the Megamall. Hubby and I left our maid, Siti, there with the children and had a pseudo-holiday - in mini-Singapore! We had lunch at the Food Junction, shopped at Robinson's and enjoyed coffee and kaya toast at the Killiney Kopitiam for tea, lol!

That night, we celebrated Siti's 26th birthday at home with pizza delivery and a cake (see below).


Well, I guess another to look at it is that we went to MegaKidz today to celebrate Siti's birthday!

Turning 6

So now my baby is 6 years old.

More than one well-wisher have wistfully reminded me to enjoy the children while they are young.

I know.... very soon, my baby will be in primary school and when that happens, he will enter a new phase of life.

What will I miss?

1. Someone who is still keen to tag along when I run my errands


2. Someone who skips in the carpark on the way to school


3. Someone who tells me all the details of what happened in class


4. Someone who calls me on the phone when I am not around


5. Someone who laughs out loud at his own lame jokes


6. Someone who laughs out loud at my own lame jokes


7. Someone who thinks I know everything and am the greatest


8. Someone who holds my hand tightly for comfort or security


9. Someone who helps me look at the world thru a child's eye


10. Someone who can be delighted by the simplest things - like an ice-cream or a sweet

But most of all, the 3 things I will miss:

1. Someone who welcomes my bear hugs and hugs me back tightly


2. Someone who still enjoys being kissed


3. Someone who murmurs softly, at the brink of falling asleep... "I love you the most."

Sigh....

A Low-Key Celebration

Son No 3 turned 6 yesterday.

In our family, we have traditionally celebrated the 6th birthday in a big way. Turning 6 is somewhat a milestone as it signifies the end of toddlerhood. When my two older boys turned 6, each of them had a birthday party at McDonald's. They invited their friends from their class and had loads of fun - the McDonald's way.

I wanted to keep the tradition and throw a McDonald's party for Son No 3. In fact, we discussed about it way back in February. But Son No 3 was not keen on the idea. I guess he is like me - he does not like to be in the limelight.

Not only that - but initially, Son No 3 did not even want to celebrate his birthday in school. I asked him many times whether he was sure about that because in his class, it is almost a norm for the class students to celebrate their birthdays in school. The birthday child will cut a cake and give a goody bag to each of the friends to bring home.

Who knows, to our surprise, at the very last minute, Son No 3 changed his mind and asked whether he could bring a cake to school. Maybe it's the excitement catching up with him finally.

So the night before his birthday saw me and my hubby scrambling to Mutiara Damansara to get a birthday cake large enough for his class of 18 students. We got the cake at 9 pm and did not have much choice (see above left). Luckily, I already had the goody bags packed earlier on and they were ready to go.

I went to his school for the celebration. Son No 2 also came along. It took place during their snack-time and was over in a jiffy.

Son No 3 was nervous and was not his normal self but I was glad that he at least made the effort to have the simple "do" in school.

That night, we had a simple dinner at our favourite family restaurant, Wok Hei. We bought another cake for our little home celebration and took some shots for the album. Hmm, this time, the birthday boy looked happier in the photos!

Learning Mandarin

Son No 3's favourite subject in school is ... *gasp*.... Mandarin!

No kidding.

It's totally unexpected because he is immersed in an English-speaking environment - we speak mainly English at home, his teachers speak mainly English in school, he watches only English TV shows and he plays computer games that are written in English.

At the beginning of last year, Son No 3 told me earnestly that all the boys and girls in his class were English - I was puzzled because I knew that was so-not true. His class has a good mix of Malays, South Asians and Chinese.

Son No 3 also said he was an English boy. An English boy?!!

I then realised what led to his confusion was that in the construct of his world, there was no such concept as race or ethnicity. His classmates speak English, and so they must be English. Similarly, he speaks English and that's why he is an English boy, lol! Children are truly colour-blind.

When I explained to him that he is actually a Chinese boy, he became very motivated to learn Mandarin. He reckons because he is a Chinese boy, he must know Chinese (Mandarin)! He came up with that conclusion all by himself - and that's the truth, I did not say anything to that effect :)

There may be other reasons why Son No 3 likes learning Mandarin. For one, he is well ahead of his classmates in the language and so it makes him feel good. Mandarin is a compulsory subject in his school and many of his classmates are disadvantaged because they are non-Chinese. He has a natural advantage because we do try to speak a smattering of Mandarin at home now, I can coach him a little in the subject and additionally, Son No 3 goes for Chinese enrichment classes.

The other reason why he likes Mandarin could be because the Mandarin teacher is very strict and makes them do a lot of writing - and that is something that he likes! Son No 3 is a pretty serious learner, lol!

There is also a niggling suspicion that he wants to learn Mandarin because he has a strong kiasu streak. He feels left out when his brothers and I talk about or in Mandarin and he desperately wants to participate. He constantly sets his second brother as the benchmark and so, he needs to be good at Mandarin.

All in all, this is a happy situation to be in.

When Son No 3's friend gave him a diary with a lock, he started keeping a "journal" - in Mandarin! (See picture above) Now, he can only write simple sentences, but nevertheless, it is a good start.

Speech & Drama Class

When I went to pick up Son No 3 from his Speech & Drama class today, he was the first to leave again. He said he wanted to leave quickly because "we were not learning anything!"

Son No 3 has been attending the after-school enrichment class for 2 months already and well... it's just not his cup of tea.

From what he told me, their activities sounded fun - so far, they had role-played shoppers and shop-keepers, king & queen with their soldiers, dirty but hard-working farmers, pirates and so on. Sometimes, he came back with paint on his face - which is something that he did not like. He agrees that the activities can be fun but still, "we were not learning anything!"

Hmm, that's an interesting point of discussion from this young mind - so what constitutes learning? Sitting down, reading and writing? We have chosen this pre-school because we do not want him to get too stifled in a rigid learning environment - he will have plenty of that when he enters primary school.

And we carefully chose Speech & Drama for his enrichment so that he will have the chance to get out of his comfort zone. Son No 3 is slow to warm to new people and new situations - although he can be very mischievous with people whom he knows well (his long-suffering cousin sister can attest to it!) Speech & Drama classes seem ideal.

He may not like the classes much, but already, he is showing signs that he is getting used to them. In the beginning, he would be quite quiet after each session, as if a lot of energy has been drained from him. Nowadays, the classes do not affect him so.

I am convinced in the long run, something good will come out of it, though it might be nothing tangible. That's what experiential learning is all about.

Qing Ming

Yesterday, my hubby and I, together with the 3 boys, made an overnight trip to Johor Bahru, my hubby's hometown, some 300 km away. We were observing Qing Ming, which is the Chinese equivalent to All Souls' Day. Traditionally, the English translation of Qing Ming was Tomb-Sweeping Day, an important day in the Chinese calendar where families gather to commemorate the departed in their ancestry tree.

In Son No 2's Chinese school, Qing Ming is a school holiday. In general, schools in Malaysia have 3 discretionary holidays, and I am glad that the Chinese vernacular schools here have chosen to use one of those discretionary holidays for Qing Ming. It signifies the Chinese community's deeply committed values of filial piety and remembering roots.

For the first time, I was in charge of buying all the things that were traditionally used for such visits to the grave. My sister-in-law was ill and we were on our own this time.

Now, I am not a believer of burning joss sticks and paper effigy or things like that and I do not believe that burning such things will eventually reach the intended recipients. [Interestingly, I told the children we were going to "visit" grandma and grandpa's graves while my hubby told them we were going to "pray" to grandma and grandpa - I noticed the difference in terminology - but I wonder whether the children realised the difference.]

But I carried out my duty to shop for joss sticks, candles and stuff on my spouse's behalf and I did the best I could. I was amused that nowadays, besides the mansions, maids and mobile phones, the paper effigy merchants actually stocked LV handbags, birds' nests and even lace lingeries! The departed must be having a really rocking time down (or up) there. On the other hand, it was sad that school uniforms were also available for children who had met untimely deaths.

Anyway, this was the first time that Son No 2 and Son No 3 followed the rest of us to visit the columbarium where both their paternal grandparents rested. Unsurprisingly, they had plenty of questions. When we showed them the photos of their grandma and grandpa, Son No 3 was pretty insistent that he wanted to see them (as in physically), although he knew they were dead. I don't think he really understood what death meant.

Both of them were intrigued by the burning of the hellnotes. Why was it that when the money was burnt, the money would go to dead people? Well, I am glad they were logical thinkers! I told them it was just a traditional belief - I actually used the word "traditional" - lol, trying to hide behind big words again. But they were smart - they knew what I meant. Oh, you mean, it is like play-pretend??? Yes, something like that.

After that, Son No 3 asked why do dead people need money? Aha, good question. I told him, not really.... and before I could continue, Son No 3 answered his own question. Oh yes, he forgot, it was just pretend.

Son No 1 made an interesting observation of his own - the hellnotes had the same serial numbers! Trust him to be so aware of numbers!

The next question the younger boys asked was where did dead people go? I told them honestly, we really don't know - and that there were some things that people do not know, even when they became adults. I know it would be easy to tell him that dead people went to heaven, but there are some things that I think they would have to search and find answers for themselves.

Then came the difficult part - when they asked, after dead people were buried, what happened to the bodies underground. I remember they have asked this before when their pet hamster died. I told them the bodies would disintegrate. Disintegrate meant decay. In the end, the bodies would become like the soil again. Oh, they asked, is it like they will disappear....? Ya, something like that. Son No 3 then asked would worms come out from their bodies. Well, I think enough is enough! Surely we do not need to go to the gory details.

It was a quick and tiring overnight trip. But I am of the view that Qing Ming is a good and meaningful Chinese tradition. I look at it devoid of religious implications and I intend to carry on this tradition within my family. Now my children are young but looking into the future, it should provide yet another opportunity for busy family members to make time to get together and reflect on their common past. It would be a good way to refresh and renew ties.

Activity Snapshot

The following snapshots feature "One Week In The Life Of...."
(Scheduled events only)

Son No 3

- 5 days of kindergarten (8:30am - 12:30pm)
- 3 Mandarin Enrichment classes
- 1 English Speech & Drama class
- 1 Piano lesson
- 1 Taekwando class

Son No 2

- 5 days of primary school (1:05pm - 6:40pm)
- 2 Mandarin Enrichment classes
- 1 Piano lesson
- 1 Taekwando class

Son No 1

- 5 days of high school (8:00am - 3:30pm)
- 2 Mandarin Enrichment classes
- 3 Tennis sessions
- 1 Taekwando class

Mummy

- All of the above (driving duties only)
- Less overlap in Taekwando (class attended by the 3 boys together)
- 1 Marketing trip to the wet market
- 1 Grocery shopping trip to the hypermart

Wow... how humdrum can life be...

OK, invites going out to everyone to top the humdrum scale....=^=

The Rainbow Connection

It is fair to say that whatever our age, we are excited when we chance upon a rainbow. But after the initial excitement, what next? Well, then it does depend on your age...

Son No 3 would say "I want to go to the rainbow". His mummy, down-to-earth and dead-honest as usual, would say that he can't. Why not? Well, because a rainbow is just a vision.... (blank look), it is an illusion... (huh?), it is not real.... (it looked very real to him). Look, it will disappear when you go near it, OK? "You mean, it is like the clouds?" Hmm... never mind, I do not really want to take away that innocence so soon. I can't very well tell him that the rainbow is caused by the refraction of electromagnetic waves when the waves travel through media of different density.

Son No 2, two years older and thinking that he is wiser, would say "No-la, you can only get the rainbow when there is rain and sun together, right, mummy?" Then he would go on to say, "I want to go to the end of the rainbow." He has heard of the common folklore and wants that pot of gold. I am not sure whether it is a sign that there is still some innocence left in him.

Son No 1, the analytical big brother, would want to show off to his younger siblings. He would say, "I can tell you all the colours of the rainbow" and would go on to rattle off the names of the colours by heart. Then mummy would challenge him, so which colour is in the inner arc of the rainbow? And after pausing for a while to think, he would be able to provide the answer.

Mummy, on the other hand, would keep her thoughts to herself - pondering philosophically why she sees more rainbows here in KL than in Singapore. The last one she saw was just during the Chinese New Year period. Is the weather pattern here really so different?

Or is God showering more blessings on this country? After all, this country is run by clowns (and that's putting it really mildly since clowns do no harm to others) and yet, the country has managed to function and even escape great calamities. The country has been registering positive growth over the years despite the huge amount of wastage that flows through the very large crevices that everybody knows about. Is this country blessed (in a certain way) or what?

Coming back to the rainbow, some may offer this simple explanation: that Singapore has too many highrise buildings which block the line of sight. To even see the sky, for heaven's sake, one needs to look vertically up. So how to see the rainbow?!

There is an even simpler explanation: when most people come home from work, it is already dark. If one does not even see the blue sky, then how to see the rainbow?

Photo courtesy of pauel_0206

The Talk

I did not expect to get The Talk from Son No 3 yesterday.

Yesterday, Son No 3's school organized a Parents-Meet-The-Teachers session. Normally, there would be no school on that day but because his Chinese enrichment class was still on, he still needed to attend lessons. The prospect of my being around his school while he was having lessons must have troubled him. In the morning, Son No 3 made it point to specifically tell me that "when I am doing my work in my Chinese class, you don't look through the window and see (look at) me, ok?"

It was The Talk - the one where the children tell their parents how to - or not to - behave. Huh? I did not expect it so soon from Son No 3. He is two months shy of his 6-year-old birthday.

My hubby and I only received The Talk from Son No 1 when he was 10 years old. Son No 1 was going to perform a dance on stage and we would naturally be in the audience. Before the performance, he made sure he "prepped" us on how to behave. He told us that, whatever it is, Do Not Wave. Hmm... he must have been pretty bothered when we did that in the past. Clearly, our outward show of support was not appreciated.

I fully understand that there will come a time when children will want to be untied from the apron's strings. Heck, we raise them to be so - nurturing them to become confident and independent, ready to go out to embrace the world. So, should we be happily giving ourselves a pat on our backs?

Not so soon. I need to know one thing: that the children are NOT embarrassed to be seen with their parents. That they know that the image of them with loving, caring parents does not somewhat reduce their stature among their friends. That it does not take away their masculinity, manliness or machoism, whatever name we want to give to that quality that boys or men crave to be in front of their friends.

Of course I do not go out of my way to embarrass the children.

Recently, Son No 1 went for an outing at Mid-Valley with his classmates (5 girls and 4 boys). They were going to meet at KFC and then just hang out. When Son No 1 realised that I was going to park my car and go down with him, I could sense that he was kind of alarmed. But now that he was older and being the tactful boy that he was, he did not want to come outright to say that my presence would ...err, not be welcomed. Do not worry, I assured him, I was not going to tag along. [I didn't need to because two of the girls' mothers would be there *grin*] I was going window-shopping. See, I am not the molly-coddling parent.

I certainly do not want to hang out with their friends. But my point remains that my boys need to understand that it is alright to be seen with loving parents - whatever shape and sizes the parents are. If the friends view it negatively, then I would question the values held by those friends.

I remember this story one of my primary school teachers told us during moral lesson:

There was this girl who was ashamed of her mother because her mother was disfigured. In front of her friends, she would humiliate her and deny her presence. To the girl, the mother was ugly and she did not want to be associated with her at all.

Until one day, her principal called her in and told her why her mother was disfigured. When the girl was a baby, there was a big fire and the girl was trapped in the house. To save her baby, the mother fought her way through the flames, enveloping the little bundle with her own body. As a result, the mother was badly burnt and was disfigured.

Now, our lives are seldom fraught with such drama. But we do see the moral of the story.

So, you may ask, did I peep into Son No 3's Chinese class in the end? If you had ever been a mother of a pre-schooler, you would already know the answer. Truth be told.... of course I did.... I just made sure he did not see me!

The Pet Society Champ

Son No 3 is the biggest fan of Pet Society, the computer game on Facebook.

Those who are Friends with Son No 3, and have been playing the game, will realise that over the past two weeks, Son No 3 has soared in his rankings. It may appear that he has been spending an excessive amount of time playing the game... but I can vouch that he has not played more than usual, which is about an hour daily. He has also maintained the same number of Friends because I do not allow him to anyhow add on Friends.

What happened was that he has found the .... secret, if you like.... to the game and has managed to level up very, very quickly. I know the "secret" but am not about to disclose it here :)

I do keep a close watch on how my boys play the game (or any game, in fact) and I must say I am quite impressed with how Son No 3 plays Pet Society. He analyses the game, sets a goal, is single-minded about achieving this goal and understands the concept of trade-off..... (wow). Ya, wow. But really... let me explain.

Two weeks ago, Son No 3's pet, Name, was ranked third in the game among his Friends. He decided to set an immediate goal to beat Copper, then at second place. And to do that he knew that he had to accumulate paw points so that he could level up.

So, Son No 3 tried this and that and finally, voila, he stumbled upon a strategy! He was visibly excited and I must admit that I was excited for him too. It was a simple strategy. But now I understand why he sold off everything that he owned - it was not due to any whim - but really, to get coins which he could convert via some indirect means to points. That's why his pet's house was bare and the pet was not clothed. To him, it was no sacrifice - he just did what he needed to do.

Meanwhile, the rest of the family shared in his excitement as he would update us daily how close he was to achieving his goal.

After he has beaten Copper, I thought that was it. But no, Son No 3 has set his sights higher. His next goal was to beat Snuffles. Snuffles was way above him in terms of points at that time but bit by bit, he chipped off the difference until one day, he emerged top in the rankings. He was on top of the world!

Even then, he continued to play until he estimated that he was 3 days ahead of Snuffles. Only then did he relax. Now, he plays more leisurely and has finally spent some of his coins buying clothes and furniture.

I have learnt a lot about my son from this episode. But I am not going to go all-heavy and do an on-line analysis of him here (I shall do it in the private recesses of my mind :)) When I see my children, each with very distinct set of characteristics, I am more convinced than ever that, as the Chinese saying goes, it is easier to shift a mountain than to change a person's basic character. Some traits are truly inborn.

Second Piano Lesson

I don't mean to blog about every piano lesson that Son No 3 attends BUT what a discovery - Son No 3 loves playing the piano!

It's like a dream coming true - for me!

You see the picture above - that's Son No 3 coming home from school and heading straight for the piano. Nope, it's not staged, lol, though subsequently, I did ask him to smile for the camera. And guess what, he has not even taken his lunch at that time!

Son No 3 has been practising on the piano at his own initiation everyday and he does not need me to sit next to him. He is eager and flips to the more advance pages to learn more. He asks me questions on notations that look strange to him and promptly tries all the pieces in the book, sight-reading as he goes along.

In fact, his progress has been remarkable. He can play practically the whole elementary book after his second lesson. His favourite tune of all is Beethoven's "Ode To Joy" (or some call it "Song Of Joy") which, I might add, is one of the pieces that he learnt on his own.

Before his second piano lesson, Son No 3 asked me if he would miss any piano lesson over the Chinese New Year break. When he learnt that there will be a 2-week break from piano lessons, he groaned. How unexpected! Usually I would be greeted by cheers if this announcement was made to his brothers.

This is a novel experience for me - a son who gives me hope that he will master the piano for the sheer joy of music. I know it's only the second lesson and I am not holding my breath. Don't mind the gushing mum, but as I have been saying, it is a promising beginning :)

Right Or Wrong? Part 2

Moral reasoning develops through different stages, so say the experts. I tend to forget this and make the mistake of applying more advanced reasoning to a young child which of course leaves little impact on the child. Luckily, Son No 3's school teacher knows better.

One day, Son No 3 came home and told me this: "You know, the teacher told us we cannot fight in school. If somebody punch you, we still cannot punch back. You know why?"

I asked obligingly, "Why?" And waited for some good moral reasoning, like an eye for an eye, makes the whole world blind, or something in that vein.

He answered, "Because the teacher will scold and punish both of us."

Kudos to the teacher - simple, effective and logical reasoning to a young child. And she has reached her objective of keeping an orderly classroom.

Son No 2 is at a more advanced stage of reasoning and it is to his school teacher's credit that he has begun to explore moral issues in society. Recently he asked me whether I have seen any beggars in the pasar malam.

"These beggars have their legs and arms broken by the bad people. They are always hungry because the bad people take away all their money. So we should not give them any money. My teacher says we should give them food."

The next time I visited the pasar malam, he remembered to ask me whether I gave the beggars any food. I told him, honestly, that I did not see any beggar. Lol, my son has become the keeper of my conscience! But it is good to see my son developing compassion for the less-fortunate.

But as we all know, the world is not black and white. As the children grow, they will need to learn to distinguish and think for themselves the various shades of grey.

During the school assembly this week, the Chairperson of Son No 1's school told them that the maxim "do not judge a book by its cover" is not true. She gave the example of a violinist busker who played beautiful music in a subway and earned maybe $32 a day. If the same violinist were to hold a performance in a concert hall, smartly dressed in a tuxedo, the same violinist can probably charge $100 per head per concert. In other words, the violinist is judged by all the trappings.

I am not sure whether I agree with what the Chairperson was saying or the message that she was delivering to her students. I can turn it around and say that if another violinist has no substance - that is, not talented - then nobody will pay to see him despite all the concert hall ra-ra. Substance always comes first. People will judge the violinist on how well he plays, not by his appearance. People may be taken in by appearance the first time round, but they will soon feel cheated and grow wiser. So it is good advice to us not to be taken in by appearance.

The story was told to me by Son No 1 who seemed impressed by the Chairperson's piece of logic. I was worried that my son may have got the one-sided message - maybe unintended - that appearance is all-important, which is something I cannot agree on. But to be fair, I asked my son in what context was the violinist story told. Son No 1 did not understand my question and I re-phrased it, how come the Chairperson suddenly brought up the story? What was she trying to say?

Apparently, her message was to remind the students to take care of their image through good grooming and not dress scruffily in school. Why? Visitors to the school might be impressed by the school building and physical environment, but when they see the scruffy students, they will leave with a less favourable impression. And to her, a good impression is important because a book is judged by its cover. It is interesting to me that her main concern was how visitors viewed the school, and not how her charges developed under her care - but I know that's besides the point here.

Now I have no argument against the importance of good grooming, but I hope she also emphasised to the students that whatever good grooming that they cultivated would be useless if in the end, the students did not become well-educated, useful members of the society. It is so important that the right message gets filtered to young adolescent minds.

Right Or Wrong? Part 1

My children have been trained - intentionally or otherwise - to ask "Why?". It's not a bad thing, but sometimes it does get you scratching your head for answers. This arises particularly when questions on morality arise. How do we know what is right and what is wrong? As all-knowing Adults, we are guided by our internal compass which we have developed over time and we claim that by instinct, we know what is right or wrong - or so we think. But to a child, this demarkation between right and wrong can be very confusing.

A simple illustration goes like this: Son No 3, playing in the living room, calls loudly for Siti, our maid, who is in the kitchen. Siti comes running hurriedly, wondering what's the emergency - and Son No 3 asks her to scratch his leg. The mosquito bite is really, very itchy.

Our instinctive reaction is to scold him - this reeks the bringing up of a spoilt child. But then, when Son No 3 asks, "Why (is this not right)?", it throws us off-balance because to us, it is just so obvious that calling the maid to scratch the itch is ... well, decadent. But it is not obvious to the child at all why this behaviour is "not good". At 5 years old, he does not comprehend why Siti can help him clean his backside but Siti cannot help him scratch his leg - he is not being deliberately spoilt - he just doesn't know better. So it's good that he asks, "Why?" so that we at least know what is confusing to him and not take things for granted. In this case, the answer is simple - if he can do the things himself, he should not call Siti to help him, he should do it himself.

There are some other "truisms" that are more difficult to explain but nevertheless, it's always worth a try. Son No 3 sometimes goes round asking people to give him things. This may happen in Pet Society, a make-believe world, or it may also happen in the real world. Believe me, what he does in the make-believe world is exactly the same as what he would do in the real world. He sees his friend in school possessing a Ben 10 pencil that he likes very much. He already knows that he cannot take it without permission (it's called stealing and the police will catch him). But what if he asks his friend to give it to him? AND the friend willingly agrees? Nothing wrong in asking, right? Willing asker, willing giver.

"You cannot ask other people to give you or buy you things. Only mummy and daddy can buy things for you".

"Why?"

(Not directly answering the question) "Others like popo (grandma) can buy things for you but you cannot ask them to buy things for you".

"Why cannot-uh?"

Err... "We don't want them to spend their money..." (Not the best answer but still....)

"OK, what if the friend WANTS to give me things?"

"No, even if the friend wants to give you things, you cannot take them".

"Why? Not even a sweet?"

"OK, maybe a sweet is okay. But not if it's from a stranger."

"If popo gives me a sweet, I can eat?"

"Yes."

"What if Faidu wants to give me a pineapple?"

"You mean, like in Pet Society? Then it's okay."

"What if Faidu wants to give me ALL the things in his house? Hahaha!" (For some reason, he is tickled by the thought:))

There is no end to the queries... the rules that we set up that day will not cover every eventuality. Can he take a sticker that his friend gives him? Is Ping Yee acceptable as a giver? Can he give other people things?

So, in the end, as in all good advice, the rule became... "When in doubt, ask...."

"Ask who?"

There we go again...

2:56am

The Mother was deep in slumber, happily ensconced in a sweet dream when she heard a familiar voice from afar whispering, "Mummy..."

Oh no, the pattern was familiar, she knew how the script would continue. But still, she tried to avoid the inevitable. Dragging herself back from faraway dreamland, the Mother murmured to the little boy at her bedside, "Yes, son, what is it?"

"My shirt is wet," came the rejoinder. It was a euphemism. The Son had been trying to tackle bedwetting for some time but still - accidents happened. He was 5 years old and was not proud about it and would rather acknowledge his shirt getting wet, rather than his pants.

The Mother opened her bleary eyes and peered at the digital clock at the bedside table. 2:56am. Oh, man...

"Did you wet-wet in bed? OK, just give me a minute, ya?" The Mother moved languidly, needing the time to gather her strength and coordinate her body parts which still seemed to be floating in space. She was not angry but obviously not very pleased. Nobody liked to be disturbed in their sleep. Not at 2:56am. But she accepted that it went with the territory of being a Mother.

Guided by the nightlight, she led the little boy to the toilet and stripped him out of his diaper and wet clothes. "You know, you are so big now that even the diaper could not hold your urine," she scolded, not unkindly but matter-of-factly. The boy said nothing. He must have sensed her annoyance.

But that's not all. Changing out of the wet clothes was the easy part. Next in the script was the changing of the wet bedsheet. This was made a bit more challenging when one had to grope in the dim bedroom that was illuminated only by a small night light. The Mother did not want to switch on the main light as the other son who was sharing the bedroom was a light sleeper and the last thing she wanted was to have a grumpy child in the middle of the night.

The Mother used her fingers to gingerly explore the surface of the mattress in order to ascertain the extent of the dampness. If the mattress was just a little damp, then just a towel over it might do the trick. But no, the wet patch was unmistakable. The Son's bladder must have been really full before he went to bed. There was no way that he could sleep over it. Luckily, the mattress could be turned over so that the wet patch faced the floor. This had been done many times before. Then, rummaging through the closet, the Mother managed to find a clean bedsheet and haphazardly laid it on the bed. This was no time to be fussy about housekeeping.

Throwing the pillow back onto the bed, the Mother urged the boy to go back to sleep. She couldn't wait to go back to sleep herself.

"I want my bolster," the boy whined softly.

Ah, the Mother had forgotten about that. She reached for the bolster on the floor and then realised regretfully that the boy's bolster was also wet. She told the boy in a let-me-get-back-to-sleep voice, "You can't have your bolster, it's wet."

"But I want... I can't sleep without my bolster..."

Now what? A flash of brainwave. The Mother got the Son a spare bolster and shoved it to him. Although the spare adult-sized bolster was larger than his own, the Son hugged it gratefully. The Mother pulled the blanket over the Son and tucked him to bed. "Good night," she said as she walked towards the bedroom door.

"Good night," the Son replied.

Then, with his eyes half-closed, the Son continued softly, "I love you, mummy."

The Mother's heart melted. She was suddenly wide awake. She walked back to the Son's bedside and planted a kiss on his forehead. Her love tank was overflowing. She replied, "I love you too, Son."

First Piano Lesson

Things went pretty well this afternoon. Son No 3 is taking his piano lessons under the same teacher as Son No 2. At the end of the half-hour session, he asked me when was his next lesson and expressed dismay that he had to wait another 7 days. "Why so long?" he asked. I take this as a good sign.

Son No 3 is a fast and eager learner. He has learnt to play Mary Had A Little Lamb, his first song.

Holiday's End

Learning a new skill needs persistence, grit and determination. Son No 2 shows that he has plenty of these qualities as he practises swimming almost everyday now this past week under his very patient but demanding brother coach.

As the designated swim coach of the family, Son No 1 has done an excellent job. He succeeded where I would not have because he demanded more and got more. Initially, I kept a close watch on their swimming sessions, but soon began to relax as Son No 1 earned my trust as a responsible brother coach.

Son No 3 has been understandably peeved that he has had nobody to play with in the "baby pool" - which we now call the "children's pool" - with due consideration for his feelings. He is not ready to learn swimming as he still dares not submerge his head fully into the water. I tell him when he is seven years old, like Son No 2, then it will be his turn to learn swimming. That does little to pacify him.

We have had a peaceful week, this last week of the school holidays - watching TV/DVDs, resting, completing homework assignments (in the case of Son No 1) and generally getting mentally prepared for the start of the new school year. I would say for all of us that this long holiday - starting from our trip to Singapore in early December to the Gold Coast to this do-nothing week at home - has been particularly rejuvenative.

Ya, we are all charged up and ready to run... bring it on!