What A Wonderful World

Exactly one year ago, Son No 1 complained that he was not able to read clearly what his teachers wrote on the white board. We brought him to the optometrist and it was found that he had slight myopia (around 100). Although the optometrist thought he did not really need glasses, we made a pair for him anyway.

Son No 1 only wore his glasses during lessons. At first, we just let it be. But since late last year, we realised that his vision had deteriorated somewhat. But still, he wouldn't wear his glasses regularly. It became frustrating talking to him because he was literally blur. His world has shrunk to less than 20 feet in radius around him.

Why didn't he want to wear his glasses? In one word - vanity.

It is something that I find hard to understand. This is what I told him - that the world is a beautiful place and God has given him this wonderful gift of sight and it is such a pity that he is not using this gift fully. I would be distressed if I see someone walking to me and I cannot see the face - should I smile or not? I wouldn't want to miss out on interesting things happening around me that others talked about. And I wouldn't want to see trees as blobs of green - I want to appreciate every single leaf.

I was not just saying all that to make a point. I really meant it. My sight is very precious to me. In fact, now that I am getting older, my biggest complaint is that I am not able to read well. Yes, long-sightedness has caught up with me and it is such an inconvenience.

Anyway, Son No 1 finally changed the lens to his spectacles today. His myopia had gone up from around 100 to 200. And today, he has started wearing his glasses more than usual. From his excited exclamations about the ordinary things around him, one might be forgiven if one thought he was someone learning to see for the first time.

Yes, dear, it is a wonderful world.....

I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue and clouds of white
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.

The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people going by
I see friends shaking hands saying how do you do
They're really saying I love you.

I hear babies crying, I watch them grow
They'll learn much more than I'll never know
And I think to myself what a wonderful world
Yes I think to myself what a wonderful world.

All I Want For Christmas...

Son 2 lost both his upper incisors over the past 2 weeks and is darn proud about it.

Both teeth dropped off without fuss or fanfare, tears or hysterics.

I'm glad my boys are stoical about such things :)

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.

Three Is Fun!!!

Note: For all who are watching from the office, be reminded that you need to switch on the sound to hear the audio.... :)

12 Going On 13

Today, Son No 1 joined his classmates for a hang-out at Mid-Valley for the entire afternoon. Note that "hang-out" is the politically-correct term - not an outing, a gathering or an excursion, all of which sounded too "schoolish", so I was told.

The classmates have been planning this hang-out for weeks, chatting almost every night over Facebook or MSN - where to go, what to do, which day should they go. You may wonder, since they see one another in school everyday, why don't they just talk about it in school, but ah, that's not how young people communicate nowadays. I have seen youngsters sitting around the table, "talking" to each other on Facebook, lol!

This was a hang-out that Son No 1 almost missed. Based on some earlier plans that we had, our whole family should be in Singapore today. I told him well in advance of our plans so that he could canvass among his friends not to have the hang-out today, but still, the majority voted for today. When the voting results came out, Son No 1 hid his disappointment well - but he knew his priorities - we were going to Singapore for Qing Ming - and that was something that was non-bargainable. I am proud of his maturity over this clash.

Then, by a stroke of luck, our plans unexpectedly changed and we were back in KL yesterday, enabling him to make it for the hang-out in the end.

Son No 1 was the first to arrive for the 11:30am appointment time. He was already all dressed up and ready to go by 10am, which was pretty unusual - his penchant for last-minute preparation is legendary. Unfortunately, his friends were tardy. We waited there with him for half an hour before going off and only 3 other boys had arrived. The girls were all going to be late - what a shame. But in the end, they all made it and they went bowling, had McDonald's and watched a movie together. You know, basically hanging out....

My firstborn has grown up much this past one year. His voice has deepened and he is more outgoing. Clothes and hair gel are now on his shopping list and black suddenly became a favourite colour. He is both more considerate and more self-centered, it depends. He is both the nurturing brother and the bullying brother, rolled into one. He is both more chatty and more silent, depending. Like the weather, his taste and predilection can change overnight.

Ya, it's the onset of puberty. There are both positives and negatives associated with this adolescent period. I can't help but notice the growing maturity in thoughts and speech in my firstborn. Nevertheless, the negatives have not escaped my dear son. Mood swings are more common now. For mild moodiness, I would just ignore it. I may roll my eyes, or pass a sarcastic remark of my own, or grumble to my spouse, but largely, I can understand it and would put it down to hormones.

However, when it comes to excessive displays of temper or moodiness, I will not condone it. Hormones or not. While I may understand the scientific basis of the biological response, it is something else if we let such hormones control or take over our lives. Humans are blessed with the faculty to think and this is what sets us apart from other animals. We can choose how to behave and hormones should never be used as an excuse.

Just like my son facing uncharted waters as he enters his teenage years in two months' time, I face my own virgin territories as I challenge myself to remain an effective, relevant parent as my child grows. I have never been a mom to one who is at the brink of adolescence before. Nevertheless, whether it's 2 going on 3, 12 going on 13, or 22 going on 23, the same basic principles should apply to make it work: Love, respect, honesty - from both sides.

Baby, I think we should do fine.

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.

What A Waste Of Time

I hate wasting time - I really do.

I make sure that every minute of the day is spent on activities that are of utility value. It doesn't mean every minute of the day is spent making money, or doing good stuff or anything like that. I mean, if you are tired, even sleeping has utility value. There must be some benefit accrued to either yourself, your loved ones, things that matter to you or the greater society in general.

But this morning, I just wasted 1.5 hours of my time. If I did not cut it short, it would have wasted more than 2 hours of my time. I chose to walk away.

I am referring to the Meet-The-Parents session that I was supposed to have with the teachers in Son No 1's school. The school has this policy that every semester, the academic report will only be released to parents so that the teacher will get a chance to talk to the parents about the child. It all sounds fantastic on paper.

What happens is that the school's turnover of teachers is so high that the teachers do not know the students well at all. And the teachers do not bother to know the students. It is such a farce.

To compound it all, this morning, the session was supposed to start at 9am. When I arrived at the school at 9:15am, after braving the morning traffic snarl, there were already a few parents there. But most of the teachers were not there! Some of the more dedicated teachers (mainly the older ones who look like the retirees - these are the really good teachers from long ago) were already seated. But I would say the majority of them were not there.

What a sloppy attitude by the teachers. It did not reflect well on the school at all. After waiting for 15 minues, I took the bull by its horns and went to look for Son No 1's teacher - who turned out to be a young angmoh (westerner expatriate) with a crewcut hairstyle - a cross-between Justin Timberlake and David Beckham, if you like. I know he is a new teacher, from what Son No 1 has told me. He did not appear apologetic - rather, he looked lost. When he asked who my child was, he was not able to connect the name to the face. I gave up. I told him that I was in a hurry and please, could I just get the report as I needed to go.

So I "cut" the queue, grabbed the report and went. Talking to him would be a waste of time because I know nothing useful would come out from the conversation. I am not trying to insult him, but it is a matter of fact. Better to cut loss - I had better things to do.

Now, if the teachers can make the parents wait, I cannot imagine how they behave with the students. This is not the first time that I have had such experiences with this school. And to think I have to do this again in a few months' time. Aargh!