Dear Little Guy,
I can't believe you're 5 and started transition kindergarten this Fall. The ease with which you took to your new school environment surprised me, in a good way. Your independence amazes me. I have to remind myself that you're sometimes more ready than I think you are. I admire how you always know what you want and have the confidence and courage to speak up and ask for it. When I asked you whether you wanted to have a party or have a small celebration with just us (you, your big brother Buddy, Baba, and me), you didn't need any time to think. Without a pause, you said "a party, of course!" and easily came up with your guest list.
While brainstorming for activities and where to have your party, you immediately thought of Cuesta Park, your favorite park because of its wonderful paths for biking and scooting. It made complete sense to me since that was our little sanctuary during our first summer back in the US, only a year ago. It took a little convincing to get you to agree to an art activity since you believe you already know how to draw. Luckily you came around to the activity (since you do really like arts and crafts) and told us you wanted an ocean theme with your big, full-of-life eyes.
Five years ago you came into our family - what a gift! Your creativity, live life to the fullest energy and silliness have brought so many smiles and so much laughter to our lives. I can still remember the first time I got a glimpse into your expressiveness. You were 18 months or so. I was feeding you. As you chewed, your face lit up and you did the shimmy as you said "yummy". I remember thinking "wow, he just shimmied!" Since then you have made us laugh and smile more with your dancing, storytelling and all your expressions.
Did you know that you started designing clothes (for your dolls) and drawing story books even before you turned 5? You amaze me constantly with the details - so much flair and imagination - in your designs and stories. Not only do you have a clear vision in your mind, you have the ability to express them with confidence. Have you noticed that whenever you start dancing, Buddy starts to get silly and dance too? I definitely have noticed and love that you inspired dance parties in our family.
Keep on being you, my dear Little Guy (who is not so little any more), keep living life to the fullest, keep expressing your ideas, thoughts, vision. In doing so you inspire those around you to do the same. You have definitely inspired all of us to express more.
Love you always,
Mama
Tuesday, October 25, 2016
Tuesday, July 21, 2015
Buddy, you were so brave!
It's that day. The day where I drop off my (not so) little boy on his first day of his very first camp. He's just two weeks shy of turning 6. He's so big now. Full of ideas and questions.
I wasn't sure how it would go today. Would he cry? Would he cling to my leg like he did only a couple of years ago when I dropped him off at pre-school? He seemed completely unfazed as we approached the registration table. I thought to myself, "he's going to be okay." Then, I grabbed his hand as we walked over to his group. That's when I felt it - a little bit of trepidation as he sees the other kids and the coaches - his grip on my hand tightened ever so slightly. I was glad I felt it because I kept holding his hand so he knows I'm with him.
After introductions with the coaches and our usual hug and kiss good-bye, I realized we weren't holding hands anymore. I'm not sure if he let go first or I did. However, as I drove away and got a glimpse of his beautiful sunlit face, I knew he was the one who let go when the time came. He was laughing (probably at something one of the coaches said) with his arms hugging his knees. Perhaps he was still nervous but he knew how to embrace his fear and have courage - something his Baba instills in him often.
At the sight of my brave Buddy, I got teary, all out of love. Oh boy! This Mama will be a mess on the first day of first grade in August! Yes, it's always the case, isn't it? I'm the one who needs to learn to let go.
I wasn't sure how it would go today. Would he cry? Would he cling to my leg like he did only a couple of years ago when I dropped him off at pre-school? He seemed completely unfazed as we approached the registration table. I thought to myself, "he's going to be okay." Then, I grabbed his hand as we walked over to his group. That's when I felt it - a little bit of trepidation as he sees the other kids and the coaches - his grip on my hand tightened ever so slightly. I was glad I felt it because I kept holding his hand so he knows I'm with him.
After introductions with the coaches and our usual hug and kiss good-bye, I realized we weren't holding hands anymore. I'm not sure if he let go first or I did. However, as I drove away and got a glimpse of his beautiful sunlit face, I knew he was the one who let go when the time came. He was laughing (probably at something one of the coaches said) with his arms hugging his knees. Perhaps he was still nervous but he knew how to embrace his fear and have courage - something his Baba instills in him often.
At the sight of my brave Buddy, I got teary, all out of love. Oh boy! This Mama will be a mess on the first day of first grade in August! Yes, it's always the case, isn't it? I'm the one who needs to learn to let go.
Friday, March 27, 2015
Smile more and diffuse your [fill in the blank emotion]
This is exactly how my morning started only two days ago after a night of disrupted sleep.
Me (walking into the dining room, staring fiercely at my children and with a raised voice): I didn't sleep well last night so I don't have a lot of patience. I need you to cooperate this morning.
Buddy scrambled to his chair at the dining table to begin eating his breakfast. Little Guy decided to ignore me. I let him know that I'm in this mood thanks to him since he was the one who disrupted my sleep last night. He still didn't move. I resorted to picking him up and placing him into his chair to begin breakfast. Not my best morning performance!
On the way to school, I felt terrible and apologized to Buddy and Little Guy about the way I spoke. However, I reiterated the importance of sleep and its effect on our moods (as demonstrated by me earlier). About one traffic light later, I found myself thinking about how cute they are and smiled. This act lifted my mood almost immediately! So, it is true - those feel-good, self-help, mindfulness articles are right.
Fast forward to last night. Again, Little Guy woke me at some insane hour. My eyes were so glazed over, I couldn't clearly make out the exact location of the hour and minute hands on the clock as I brought Little Guy back into the bedroom he shares with Buddy. It was worse than the incident two nights ago because his crying and fussing woke up Buddy. Now, I had to get both Buddy and Little Guy back to sleep. Long story short, I must have stayed in their bedroom for a good 2 hours before I woke and dragged my tired body back into my bed.
I woke up this morning with an achy body and a fogging head - not a great combination to start a day with demanding little ones. I fully expected myself to give the exact same speech as I did two mornings ago. Instead, I headed for my children, who were goofing off in their 'house' (it's one of those colorful enclosed play pen gates, which Buddy and Little Guy refuse to give up), and the following unfolded.
Me (both hands firmly gripping the top of one gate and in pretend angry voice): I am very frustrated that I didn't sleep well last night! Beeeecause someone here woke me up again last night.
Buddy (a little unsure of what's coming): It was Little Guy!
Little Guy just looked up at me with those 'it was me but don't be angry' eyes. I saw the corners of his lips move upward. Aha! Of course! He was going to smirk.
Me (smile breaking out on my face, still pretend angry voice): Well, I will not have a lot of patience this morning because I didn't sleep well. Rrrrrr (my eyes narrowed and my head pounced toward Little Guy)!
At my lion's roar, all three of us broke up into silly giggles.
Just like that, my anger and frustration dissipated and my mood lifted.
The interesting thing is I had been using the 'smile' technique at the start of the year and it was working fabulously. Whenever I was short of patience with Buddy, I would say whatever I had to say with a smile. The act alone made me calm and seemed to refuel my patience and compassion, even when the smile starts off as forced, an attempt to hid my impatience. I guess, at some point, I got busy, as we all do, and forgot to keep practicing.
As with any habit, it takes time and diligent practice. Perhaps I will give myself a 30-day challenge (which seem so popular these days) to smile first when I feel those hot emotions bubble up inside.
Me (walking into the dining room, staring fiercely at my children and with a raised voice): I didn't sleep well last night so I don't have a lot of patience. I need you to cooperate this morning.
Buddy scrambled to his chair at the dining table to begin eating his breakfast. Little Guy decided to ignore me. I let him know that I'm in this mood thanks to him since he was the one who disrupted my sleep last night. He still didn't move. I resorted to picking him up and placing him into his chair to begin breakfast. Not my best morning performance!
On the way to school, I felt terrible and apologized to Buddy and Little Guy about the way I spoke. However, I reiterated the importance of sleep and its effect on our moods (as demonstrated by me earlier). About one traffic light later, I found myself thinking about how cute they are and smiled. This act lifted my mood almost immediately! So, it is true - those feel-good, self-help, mindfulness articles are right.
Fast forward to last night. Again, Little Guy woke me at some insane hour. My eyes were so glazed over, I couldn't clearly make out the exact location of the hour and minute hands on the clock as I brought Little Guy back into the bedroom he shares with Buddy. It was worse than the incident two nights ago because his crying and fussing woke up Buddy. Now, I had to get both Buddy and Little Guy back to sleep. Long story short, I must have stayed in their bedroom for a good 2 hours before I woke and dragged my tired body back into my bed.
I woke up this morning with an achy body and a fogging head - not a great combination to start a day with demanding little ones. I fully expected myself to give the exact same speech as I did two mornings ago. Instead, I headed for my children, who were goofing off in their 'house' (it's one of those colorful enclosed play pen gates, which Buddy and Little Guy refuse to give up), and the following unfolded.
Me (both hands firmly gripping the top of one gate and in pretend angry voice): I am very frustrated that I didn't sleep well last night! Beeeecause someone here woke me up again last night.
Buddy (a little unsure of what's coming): It was Little Guy!
Little Guy just looked up at me with those 'it was me but don't be angry' eyes. I saw the corners of his lips move upward. Aha! Of course! He was going to smirk.
Me (smile breaking out on my face, still pretend angry voice): Well, I will not have a lot of patience this morning because I didn't sleep well. Rrrrrr (my eyes narrowed and my head pounced toward Little Guy)!
At my lion's roar, all three of us broke up into silly giggles.
Just like that, my anger and frustration dissipated and my mood lifted.
The interesting thing is I had been using the 'smile' technique at the start of the year and it was working fabulously. Whenever I was short of patience with Buddy, I would say whatever I had to say with a smile. The act alone made me calm and seemed to refuel my patience and compassion, even when the smile starts off as forced, an attempt to hid my impatience. I guess, at some point, I got busy, as we all do, and forgot to keep practicing.
As with any habit, it takes time and diligent practice. Perhaps I will give myself a 30-day challenge (which seem so popular these days) to smile first when I feel those hot emotions bubble up inside.
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
A Perfectly Balanced Day
There it was. Staring in my face as I wiped a second little butt in 15 minutes during dinner. I was going to have a perfectly balanced day. To do that, I needed do something for myself and that was attending an event on women & ambition in the context of motherhood (of all topics).
Admittedly, it was weird to have such a realization while staring into the abyss of a toilet, wiping Buddy's butt. However, ideas and revelations have always come to me in the bathroom. Perhaps it's because the bathroom has always been a place of 'down-time', so to speak (aside from the bedroom … but then I'm asleep and can't remember any idea or revelation).
I've always struggled with work/life balance. It's not a post-baby issue for me. It's not a post-marriage issue for me. It's just an issue I've had all my adult life. The problem was most pronounced when Buddy came along and I went back to full-time work after a 3-months maternity leave.
That was five years ago. Only last year did it occur to me that I hadn't been thinking of my life as one thing but rather a bunch of compartments. The initial inkling of that was when Buddy asked whether I still loved him when I left the house to teach Pilates. My response to that heartfelt question from a then-4-year-old Buddy was that we play many roles as one person. That response settled him but unsettled something in me. That 'something' was an yearning to define balance in my context and integrate my roles into my whole person. I've always known that I functioned best and am (or feel) the most productive when I have 2 or 3 things going on in given day or week. But, having had a corporate job my entire career before moving to Singapore, I hadn't given a lot of thought to intentionally designing for that kind of 'work/life'.
As I embarked on my Pilates teaching journey, I started to intentionally design (i.e., block out specific time windows in my calendar) for the kind of week I wanted … the kind of week where I feel fulfilled in motherhood and teaching practice. Over time, about a year, Wednesdays have become an important day of the week where I spend the morning moving my body and teaching, and the afternoon with my kids. The fact that it's exactly in the middle of the Monday-Friday week is intentional. It's part of my 'slow down, recalibrate and take stock around what I've accomplished at the start of the week and what else do I want to accomplish with the remaining two days before heading into the weekend' tool-set.
Most Wednesdays (and actually most days) I don't go out in the evening. Like any other day of the week, I'm wiped out by the time both kids are in bed with lights out. However, Wednesdays always feel close to balanced because I spend majority of the afternoon with Buddy and Little Guy. That makes me happy, which is possible because I get to move my body and teach in the morning. On this particular Wednesday, attending an event in the evening (where I actually changed into something besides t-shirt/shorts or work-out clothes and dabbled on some mascara & lip gloss) was a bonus for a perfectly balanced day!
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
The kind of dinosaur I want to be
As I was enjoying my 5 minutes in the morning while listening to the humming of my electric toothbrush doing its thing to keep my teeth from falling out, noises approached and got louder and louder. Not one minute into my teeth brushing, Little Guy hopped into the bathroom with a little ball. I wasn't too surprised by this because he usually joins me in the bathroom, especially now that he's got a new skill. What I didn't expect is his brother dashing into the bathroom after him.
My bathroom has maybe a standing space of 2ft x 1ft, after you account for the toilet, the sink and the shower. That's not a lot of space. Oh and yes, the door swings into the bathroom when it opens, thereby, taking up half of that precious 2ft x 1ft standing space. I tried to ignore all the commotion behind me (yes, I'm determined to follow my dentist's instructions and brush for whole 2 minutes to keep my teeth in my mouth). Just as I'm getting to my bottom teeth, a sharp pain shoots into my left ankle.
That did it! The dragon has been unleashed! In an instant the following happened simultaneously (not in the sequence as I have written here).
Me (whipping around … too bad I no longer have my long hair, would've been great for dramatic effect, in a raised voice just below shouting pitch): Ouch! Can you guys please not play in this already impossible tiny space?!!!
Little Guy: Sorry, sorry! (This is when I realized that I had assumed incorrectly and Buddy was not the culprit.)
Buddy, without a word, turned and dashed out faster than I've ever seen him run from the scene of a crime. But, not before I had seen it … that "oh, no" fear in his eyes. I felt so guilty, especially after I realized he didn't do it.
The event continued to play in my head as I drove home after dropping them off at pre-school. The question that kept popping up was "what did I look like to Buddy at that moment when I whipped around?" Taking inspiration from their interest in dinosaurs and dragons, I realized "gosh, maybe I look like this crazy monster dinosaur" (especially since I still tower over them even though I'm only 5ft-2in). It got me thinking … do I transform into a T-rex in their imaginative mind when I get angry? How can I unleash a different dinosaur that's firm but still nurturing? Is that possible?
A quick search on "nurturing dinosaurs" pulled up a few dinosaurs that are thought to nurture their young. Maiasaura and Massospondylus were on the list as well as most birds (which are part of the dinosaur family). I'm leaning towards Maiasaura because I found many images showing them low to the ground with their young … a reminder that simply lowering myself to meet my children at their eye-level might help squash the T-rex in me.
My bathroom has maybe a standing space of 2ft x 1ft, after you account for the toilet, the sink and the shower. That's not a lot of space. Oh and yes, the door swings into the bathroom when it opens, thereby, taking up half of that precious 2ft x 1ft standing space. I tried to ignore all the commotion behind me (yes, I'm determined to follow my dentist's instructions and brush for whole 2 minutes to keep my teeth in my mouth). Just as I'm getting to my bottom teeth, a sharp pain shoots into my left ankle.
That did it! The dragon has been unleashed! In an instant the following happened simultaneously (not in the sequence as I have written here).
Me (whipping around … too bad I no longer have my long hair, would've been great for dramatic effect, in a raised voice just below shouting pitch): Ouch! Can you guys please not play in this already impossible tiny space?!!!
Little Guy: Sorry, sorry! (This is when I realized that I had assumed incorrectly and Buddy was not the culprit.)
Buddy, without a word, turned and dashed out faster than I've ever seen him run from the scene of a crime. But, not before I had seen it … that "oh, no" fear in his eyes. I felt so guilty, especially after I realized he didn't do it.
The event continued to play in my head as I drove home after dropping them off at pre-school. The question that kept popping up was "what did I look like to Buddy at that moment when I whipped around?" Taking inspiration from their interest in dinosaurs and dragons, I realized "gosh, maybe I look like this crazy monster dinosaur" (especially since I still tower over them even though I'm only 5ft-2in). It got me thinking … do I transform into a T-rex in their imaginative mind when I get angry? How can I unleash a different dinosaur that's firm but still nurturing? Is that possible?
A quick search on "nurturing dinosaurs" pulled up a few dinosaurs that are thought to nurture their young. Maiasaura and Massospondylus were on the list as well as most birds (which are part of the dinosaur family). I'm leaning towards Maiasaura because I found many images showing them low to the ground with their young … a reminder that simply lowering myself to meet my children at their eye-level might help squash the T-rex in me.
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Little Guy's new skill means the end of my alone time, and so much more ...
A typical weekday morning consists of lots of noises (at the moment, a lot of high pitch screams as the boys egg each other on for anything and everything) and me trying to stay calm. It usually doesn't work. I always end up needing to raise my voice once or twice. What keeps me sane is knowing that after the storm (when the kids are fed, washed and changed), I get a little time to myself as I get ready.
This morning was not unlike any other. The kids were changed and ready so I skipped and hopped (okay - not really, that's just in my head) to my bathroom for "me time". Not one minute after sitting down on the toilet do I hear "ke ka, ke ka" (with a metallic quality to the sound). Yup! Little Guy has figured out how to turn the door knob and open the door with his free will!
He walked in with a big smile (the kind that's accompanied with a glint in his eyes as if he's got something up his sleeves) and closed the door behind him. He turned around and started knocking on the door as he belted out "Do you want to build a snowman …" from Frozen (he's obsessed with it and particularly Elsa). While listening to him, it dawned on me that I will be going without my cherished alone time for a while until he gets old enough to grasp the concept of privacy and "me time" for mama.
As I sat there pondering the temporary loss of my "me time", I recognized a certain difficult to name emotion that I had felt once before … when Buddy learned to open the door. See, Little Guy will be 3 in about three weeks. He figured out the door knob a couple of weeks ago. It was still surprising to him that he could do that. I saw it on his face - that mixture of amazement at himself, glee about what comes with this new skill, and a bit of surprise that he can do it.
This morning was not unlike any other. The kids were changed and ready so I skipped and hopped (okay - not really, that's just in my head) to my bathroom for "me time". Not one minute after sitting down on the toilet do I hear "ke ka, ke ka" (with a metallic quality to the sound). Yup! Little Guy has figured out how to turn the door knob and open the door with his free will!
He walked in with a big smile (the kind that's accompanied with a glint in his eyes as if he's got something up his sleeves) and closed the door behind him. He turned around and started knocking on the door as he belted out "Do you want to build a snowman …" from Frozen (he's obsessed with it and particularly Elsa). While listening to him, it dawned on me that I will be going without my cherished alone time for a while until he gets old enough to grasp the concept of privacy and "me time" for mama.
As I sat there pondering the temporary loss of my "me time", I recognized a certain difficult to name emotion that I had felt once before … when Buddy learned to open the door. See, Little Guy will be 3 in about three weeks. He figured out the door knob a couple of weeks ago. It was still surprising to him that he could do that. I saw it on his face - that mixture of amazement at himself, glee about what comes with this new skill, and a bit of surprise that he can do it.
"Making the decision to have a child - it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." ~Elizabeth StoneYes, it was that mixture of joy and sadness from acknowledging that my little baby is growing up … and taking with him, my heart as he walks through any door he opens.
Sunday, August 31, 2014
Mama, I'm cute … you should see me ...
Little Guy: Mama, pei wo yi xia xia (stay with me a while), ok?
Me: Ok.
That's usually how we transition from bedtime routine to lights out. The room is dark but not pitch black as each of the boy's nightlight provides just the right amount of light for us to see each other. We each share what we're thankful for and I kiss them good night. Buddy likes the same number of kisses as his upcoming age. Little Guy and I kiss through the beams of his crib like it's a game. Then, I lie down and hang out for a while.
Usually I end up repeating "be quiet" and "lie down" (specifically for Little Guy) so many times I wonder why I'm in here. Other times, I have to resort to a little threat of "I'm going to leave the room if you can't lie down and be quiet".
On this particular night, I had just settled myself on the ABC mat in between Buddy's bed and Little Guy's crib. Buddy shared a thought ...
Buddy: Mama, you know what?
Me: What?
Buddy: I'm cute … I'm really cute. I can see that in the mirra. You should see me in the mirra. I'm really cute!
silence as I thought about what to say …
[Cutting out to the conversation in my head]
Growing up, I was always taught to be modest. Whenever, an adult gave me a compliment, my parents always responded with "no, no, not at all" or "oh, you're too kind" (accompanied with the appropriate amount of hand gesture to wave off the compliment). That probably did teach me modesty. But, it also added this vocabulary to my inner voice: "hmmm… maybe I'm not that good at [fill in the blank]". The self-doubt.
It took a long time for me to realize that to be modest is different from denying and down-playing my own talents.
[Returning to the scene from that night]
Me: Yes, you're really cute! You can show me in the mirror in the morning. Ok?
Buddy: Ok!
I really meant what I said … Buddy is really cute (of course, I'm biased!). The thing is … this is the first time he's said anything like this about himself. He makes such sweet comments about Little Guy and other kids easily. At the same time, he often shies away from similar attention even in a kind look or smile from us or his grandparents.
The thing is it's not important what I think. It's important what he thinks of himself. I imagine we will touch on modesty at some point but not that night. That night I wanted him to go to sleep with a bigger than usual smile because he saw something special in himself.
Me: Ok.
That's usually how we transition from bedtime routine to lights out. The room is dark but not pitch black as each of the boy's nightlight provides just the right amount of light for us to see each other. We each share what we're thankful for and I kiss them good night. Buddy likes the same number of kisses as his upcoming age. Little Guy and I kiss through the beams of his crib like it's a game. Then, I lie down and hang out for a while.
Usually I end up repeating "be quiet" and "lie down" (specifically for Little Guy) so many times I wonder why I'm in here. Other times, I have to resort to a little threat of "I'm going to leave the room if you can't lie down and be quiet".
On this particular night, I had just settled myself on the ABC mat in between Buddy's bed and Little Guy's crib. Buddy shared a thought ...
Buddy: Mama, you know what?
Me: What?
Buddy: I'm cute … I'm really cute. I can see that in the mirra. You should see me in the mirra. I'm really cute!
silence as I thought about what to say …
[Cutting out to the conversation in my head]
Growing up, I was always taught to be modest. Whenever, an adult gave me a compliment, my parents always responded with "no, no, not at all" or "oh, you're too kind" (accompanied with the appropriate amount of hand gesture to wave off the compliment). That probably did teach me modesty. But, it also added this vocabulary to my inner voice: "hmmm… maybe I'm not that good at [fill in the blank]". The self-doubt.
It took a long time for me to realize that to be modest is different from denying and down-playing my own talents.
[Returning to the scene from that night]
Me: Yes, you're really cute! You can show me in the mirror in the morning. Ok?
Buddy: Ok!
I really meant what I said … Buddy is really cute (of course, I'm biased!). The thing is … this is the first time he's said anything like this about himself. He makes such sweet comments about Little Guy and other kids easily. At the same time, he often shies away from similar attention even in a kind look or smile from us or his grandparents.
The thing is it's not important what I think. It's important what he thinks of himself. I imagine we will touch on modesty at some point but not that night. That night I wanted him to go to sleep with a bigger than usual smile because he saw something special in himself.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)