There are days when I wake up and everything is as they should be: I've had enough sleep, I am raring to tackle my "To Do" list for the day, I have enough time to fix a cuppa, talk to hubby, wash my face and gasp, put some makeup on -- before the kids wake up.
I had one of those days today. By mid morning I had survived the school rush without incident, done 2 loads of laundry and the baby was sleeping. Which led me thinking, "I must have done something good to deserve this harmony in the household...about time too! Happy snaps for me! Legend!"
This was my internal commentary for the "Chris is Awsome" morning parade until...
I found one of my son Xavier's artworks lying on the floor where he usually rests his school bag. It is a green piece of cardex with a photocopied photo of him, with a speech bubble on the opposite side. On top of the page was a Chinese horoscope bit that was pasted on -- "Year of the SNAKE: Charming and good thinkers. Love the finer things in life, so only the best is good enough. Good at making and saving money. Patient, charming and wise. Prefer not to rely on other people." (Guess they were doing something very multicultural that day like Chinese horoscopes for Chinese New Year.)
I have never been one to believe in horoscopes, so I will focus on what Xavier wrote on the speech bubble instead.
"In 2009, I am going to improve in school. I am also going to work on my soccer. When I am not busy I will try to help my parents and try to be a better friend to D-----. By Xavier."
What struck me most about what he wrote was that he was going to be a better friend to D-----. Why? Well, let me give you the background: X and D have been classmates ever since they were in Pre-Primary. While they always seem to gravitate towards each other during playtime, X often complains that D pushes him during recess, hits him at excursions or laughs at him. There have been a few incidents where I was called to the school because X had been injured or had been a good Samaritan because D lost his temper and hit somebody. There were always apologies afterwards and promises that things will not get this ugly again.
As a side note, John and I have never been advocates of hitting back. What we teach X is to block and stay away from danger. While we acknowledge that our son can provoke some of these fights and arguments, our hearts ache when we see that in most cases, he is the one who gets badly hurt.
I personally cannot get my head around why X remains friends with D -- a boy who puts him down and physically hurts him.
So just like many times before, I asked X why he still chooses to play with D. I expected an answer around the lines of "Because he is fun to play with/He likes Bakugan/StarWars/Pokemon".
Instead X answers, "If I am not his friend, no one else will be his friend."
STUNNED. What? What? WHAT?
X: "No one else wants to play with him. He scares them. I'm not scared of him and we have fun. I think he gets mad a lot because he just doesn't know how to be a friend to other people. When I am with him, other kids play with us because they know he listens to me. If I become a better friend to him, maybe he will be nicer to other people."
Tears well in my eyes. While X didn't make sense to my ideas on justice, he sure made up for it in sentiment. It's not all about us... it's about others. It's not about how good we are... it is what we can do for others. It is not about praising our own achievements, it is about being grateful for the privilege.
The horoscope that was on the same cardex detailed what type of person my son would be. But these traits that these horoscopes have pre-determined for my son do not take into consideration the values passed down from family which lead to traits like compassion, a desire to serve and the yearning for something more than this world.
I am pretty sure that Xavier has limited understanding of compassion and service. Surely though, he must know something to willingly be around such a risky environment where he can easily be beaten up and ridiculed. I have been given a big lesson in that today which I hope to pass on through example. Not an easy task given how imperfect I am, but a lesson without application is worth zilch.
Ooops. Wasn't I just applauding my own "legendary" status? Halt the parade...
Monday, July 6, 2009
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
"STOP! Don't climb the bookshelves!"
We had an episode this morning that I will call...
"STOP! Don't climb the bookshelves!"
Opening scene: (setting - a cold but crisp Thursday morning in family home in Murdoch)
Sprightly 7 year old boy finishes his breakfast and decides to read some books before going to school. The concept of merely taking out a book and sitting quietly on the floor to read it proves to be a bit too bland for his liking.
Boy makes a pile of books. Then he makes another pile of books. He then decides that he has enough height to step on the piles he has made and climb onto the bookshelf.
Blessed with supersonic hearing (or should it be said instead that when it becomes TOO QUIET, Mums around the world stop in their tracks), a fast twisting neck that defies whiplash and an innate sense of paranoia (see also: guilt), this Mum senses that something is about to go down!
She calls out a stern warning (readers, you can join in by reading the episode title), "STOP! Don't climb the bookshelves!"
(Obedient child freezes in his tracks and carefully gets back onto the floor...a bit of April Fool's Day joke there.)
Back to the episode transcript:
Mum's calls of warning go unheeded. There is much panic, a loud crash and a bit of teeth gnashing as furniture fall --- Mum sees the scene unfold in slow motion ("O Fortuna" plays in the background).
Then there is silence.
Cut to scene:
There is now a huge messy pile of books blocking the entrance of our back room.
Mum refuses to clean up. Boy stands by the corner, with an expression on his face that is of shock, remorse and pure, "Yikes....Busted!".
Scene fades into black with the figure of Mum putting her hands on her head.
End scene.
POST SCRIPT:
What is a Mum to do hey? Xavier is ok. His ego is a bit bruised though -- he has realised that he is indeed, NOT Spiderman.
"STOP! Don't climb the bookshelves!"
Opening scene: (setting - a cold but crisp Thursday morning in family home in Murdoch)
Sprightly 7 year old boy finishes his breakfast and decides to read some books before going to school. The concept of merely taking out a book and sitting quietly on the floor to read it proves to be a bit too bland for his liking.
Boy makes a pile of books. Then he makes another pile of books. He then decides that he has enough height to step on the piles he has made and climb onto the bookshelf.
Blessed with supersonic hearing (or should it be said instead that when it becomes TOO QUIET, Mums around the world stop in their tracks), a fast twisting neck that defies whiplash and an innate sense of paranoia (see also: guilt), this Mum senses that something is about to go down!
She calls out a stern warning (readers, you can join in by reading the episode title), "STOP! Don't climb the bookshelves!"
(Obedient child freezes in his tracks and carefully gets back onto the floor...a bit of April Fool's Day joke there.)
Back to the episode transcript:
Mum's calls of warning go unheeded. There is much panic, a loud crash and a bit of teeth gnashing as furniture fall --- Mum sees the scene unfold in slow motion ("O Fortuna" plays in the background).
Then there is silence.
Cut to scene:
There is now a huge messy pile of books blocking the entrance of our back room.
Mum refuses to clean up. Boy stands by the corner, with an expression on his face that is of shock, remorse and pure, "Yikes....Busted!".
Scene fades into black with the figure of Mum putting her hands on her head.
End scene.
POST SCRIPT:
What is a Mum to do hey? Xavier is ok. His ego is a bit bruised though -- he has realised that he is indeed, NOT Spiderman.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Vanity
The very motion of dipping your finger into a pot of lip gloss -- there is an intent to alter perception. The cosmetics industries flourish even in third world counties. Why is that?
I look at my own table top full of bottles, tubes and pots of cosmetics. Each one promises to highlight, conceal, remedy and tinge the face or body. When did I amass such a collection of appearance-altering instruments? Being so well equipped, am I in the business of perception alteration? Whoah. People get paid a lot of money to do that, and here I am excelling at it in front of my bathroom mirror.
Yes, folks, I had these thoughts in exactly the spare 10 seconds I had between leaving my son to finish his breakfast and the imminent cries of my breastfed baby. I haven't even had my daily dose of caffeine yet! I will not even attempt to answer these deep questions about people needing to alter their appearance in the quest for acceptance. I do not need a headache this early in the morning.
So now as I type this let me breakdown my most up to date perception-altering state: I have some face powder on and lip gloss. Underneath is face moisturiser with an spf15+. I also happen to have all my jewelery on: watch, rings, bracelet, necklace and earrings.
Where have I gone to warrant my appearance and where else am I going? I spent about 5 minutes on myself before rounding up my 7 year old, his enormous school bag (lunch and snacks packed: check!) and my 3 month old in her car capsule into the car. I have dropped my son off at school and then came straight back home. There. And this is where this blog starts. I am all gussied up to face this laptop, check my email and type these words.
Therefore I pose the question: is vanity worth it when all I am facing is my laptop screen and I am about to do house cleaning?
The resounding answer in my head is YES!
I feel better knowing that in case I have to leave the house and face another human being, I will not look anything that reminds people of Sigmund the Sea Monster (remember that show?). I will also revel in the fact that my spf will protect my skin so that in the years to come, my husband and children will not utter the sentence, "Look! A walking prune! Oh, no...it's just mum.". In the event that my trip to the shops is recorded in any way (for posterity or for security -- thanks cctv!) I know I will not look like a train wreck who has not quite woken up yet.
Grateful am I that my sister is a manager in cosmetics retail and that a friend works for a major cosmetics company-- for the generous gifts and samples, I thank you both profusely.
But above all, I thank God for the spare 5 minutes given to me to make myself look and feel better. Motherhood is not the beginning of membership to track pants world and "What tornado hit you" land-- it is taking those little moments I have to myself so I can come back to the unique and fearfully created person that I am. And if Mum needs a bit of gloss to make it through the day doing one of the noblest jobs in the world, I say dip your finger in the pot, gloss it on and smile.
This face was brought to you today by Kit Cosmetics and Clarins.
NOTE* At the time of this blog's publication, the blogger was last seen pushing the vacuum cleaner -- complete with makeup, jewelery, high heeled shoes and her good jeans on.
I look at my own table top full of bottles, tubes and pots of cosmetics. Each one promises to highlight, conceal, remedy and tinge the face or body. When did I amass such a collection of appearance-altering instruments? Being so well equipped, am I in the business of perception alteration? Whoah. People get paid a lot of money to do that, and here I am excelling at it in front of my bathroom mirror.
Yes, folks, I had these thoughts in exactly the spare 10 seconds I had between leaving my son to finish his breakfast and the imminent cries of my breastfed baby. I haven't even had my daily dose of caffeine yet! I will not even attempt to answer these deep questions about people needing to alter their appearance in the quest for acceptance. I do not need a headache this early in the morning.
So now as I type this let me breakdown my most up to date perception-altering state: I have some face powder on and lip gloss. Underneath is face moisturiser with an spf15+. I also happen to have all my jewelery on: watch, rings, bracelet, necklace and earrings.
Where have I gone to warrant my appearance and where else am I going? I spent about 5 minutes on myself before rounding up my 7 year old, his enormous school bag (lunch and snacks packed: check!) and my 3 month old in her car capsule into the car. I have dropped my son off at school and then came straight back home. There. And this is where this blog starts. I am all gussied up to face this laptop, check my email and type these words.
Therefore I pose the question: is vanity worth it when all I am facing is my laptop screen and I am about to do house cleaning?
The resounding answer in my head is YES!
I feel better knowing that in case I have to leave the house and face another human being, I will not look anything that reminds people of Sigmund the Sea Monster (remember that show?). I will also revel in the fact that my spf will protect my skin so that in the years to come, my husband and children will not utter the sentence, "Look! A walking prune! Oh, no...it's just mum.". In the event that my trip to the shops is recorded in any way (for posterity or for security -- thanks cctv!) I know I will not look like a train wreck who has not quite woken up yet.
Grateful am I that my sister is a manager in cosmetics retail and that a friend works for a major cosmetics company-- for the generous gifts and samples, I thank you both profusely.
But above all, I thank God for the spare 5 minutes given to me to make myself look and feel better. Motherhood is not the beginning of membership to track pants world and "What tornado hit you" land-- it is taking those little moments I have to myself so I can come back to the unique and fearfully created person that I am. And if Mum needs a bit of gloss to make it through the day doing one of the noblest jobs in the world, I say dip your finger in the pot, gloss it on and smile.
This face was brought to you today by Kit Cosmetics and Clarins.
NOTE* At the time of this blog's publication, the blogger was last seen pushing the vacuum cleaner -- complete with makeup, jewelery, high heeled shoes and her good jeans on.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Normality
I awoke this morning with a slight feeling of apprehension. Some may say that it is the natural guilt that mums are bestowed with upon giving birth. But this was different. There was a sense of "I have not idea what is in store for me" kind of feeling.
I realised that the kind of day I will be having today will probably be what I will be stuck with for the next 3 years -- at least. I took that long to bounce back to normality with my firstborn, and maybe this is what lies ahead now that I have a little bub of a daughter. Or am I wrong in assuming that this time will be a replica of what happened last time? After all, I have miraculously shrunk back into my old jeans already, 2 months into being a new mum again.
But what is normality? For a fashion lover like myself, it means getting out of breastfeeding-friendly clothes. For the fashionista/social butterfly tendencies I possess, it means getting back into catch-ups with family and friends over tea or a glass of wine on endless, lazy afternoons, talking about almost anything. Oh, and to just drive into the city on a whim, take out the credit card and spend up on King Street.
Perspective shift!
Whose definition of normality is this?
At this stage of my search for answers, my 7-year old son comes into the bedroom. He snuggles up to my side of the bed and puts his arms around me. (Fine, he declares that he did not feel like going to school but that is just the travel withdrawal talking.) And as if on cue, my 3 month old gives out a big yawn from her bassinet and looks around. She catches my eye and flashes this big toothless smile. The kind that was borne out of absolute delight.
Here is the clincher. My wonderful hubby stumbles out of the shower and declares that since he did not get me a present for my birthday (and I thought it was BLISS enough that he took over all the chores on Saturday and Sunday), that he would pay for the Marc Jacobs bag I had clocked up on my credit card a few weeks ago when we were in Manila.
Oh my. What a great new level of normality I have been blessed with. Different, but so much better.
I realised that the kind of day I will be having today will probably be what I will be stuck with for the next 3 years -- at least. I took that long to bounce back to normality with my firstborn, and maybe this is what lies ahead now that I have a little bub of a daughter. Or am I wrong in assuming that this time will be a replica of what happened last time? After all, I have miraculously shrunk back into my old jeans already, 2 months into being a new mum again.
But what is normality? For a fashion lover like myself, it means getting out of breastfeeding-friendly clothes. For the fashionista/social butterfly tendencies I possess, it means getting back into catch-ups with family and friends over tea or a glass of wine on endless, lazy afternoons, talking about almost anything. Oh, and to just drive into the city on a whim, take out the credit card and spend up on King Street.
Perspective shift!
Whose definition of normality is this?
At this stage of my search for answers, my 7-year old son comes into the bedroom. He snuggles up to my side of the bed and puts his arms around me. (Fine, he declares that he did not feel like going to school but that is just the travel withdrawal talking.) And as if on cue, my 3 month old gives out a big yawn from her bassinet and looks around. She catches my eye and flashes this big toothless smile. The kind that was borne out of absolute delight.
Here is the clincher. My wonderful hubby stumbles out of the shower and declares that since he did not get me a present for my birthday (and I thought it was BLISS enough that he took over all the chores on Saturday and Sunday), that he would pay for the Marc Jacobs bag I had clocked up on my credit card a few weeks ago when we were in Manila.
Oh my. What a great new level of normality I have been blessed with. Different, but so much better.
A sparkly glimpse of things to come
It is officially 15 minutes before my 34th birthday comes to an end. I have had a great day with my family -- and for the FIRST time, it did not rain on my birthday ! It has rained almost every year -- well, since I started noticing it anyway. A sign of how different things will be in the next year perhaps?
But what a start. I woke up to my son and husband's gentle rousing of "Happy Birthday" as they carefully placed a tray of hot cooked breakfast on the bed and of course, my usual English Breakfast tea. I have to admit that for a few seconds, I was concerned at what state the kitchen was in. Everything was forgiven and forgotten when I saw a note from my 7 year old placed underneath my plate that said "Happy Birthday Mummy. Have a great day."
My gentle giant of a husband quickly ushered my son back downstairs so that I can have a few moments of peace. Even my 3 month old was in on the surprise: she slept quietly in the bassinet beside me until I had my last bite.
How simple but sincere gestures can make one put things into perspective -- how utterly amazing. Not a lot of flashy glitter needed here. Just a hint of sparkle was a enough to make things so clear.
So maybe this is what my 34th year will be like.
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