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Thunderstorm days

Close encounters with the maid kind Family life as we know it Milestones and growing up Re: learning and child training The Kao Kids The real supermom Thunderstorm days

An unexpected trickle of happiness (nope, not because the new maid is here)

May 2, 2014

I’m bone tired and beyond exhausted, but you know what?

I’m actually very, very happy.

I’ll tell you why I’m happy. First reason.

My kids. It’s beginning to look like they are going to be well-trained.

The new helper was sent back a few days ago, and other than witnessing on the same day their mother morphing into a monster and militant ready for combat right before their eyes – complete with aggressive hollering, arms flailing and the crazy quivering; oh yes, and the often sung refrain at 140 decibels equivalent to a jet plane take-off “I AM ONLY ONE PERSON, THERE’S NO MORE AUNTY OK!”, the kids are pretty much well-adjusted to the fact that there’s only one pair of adult hands, eyes and feet in the day, at least before their father returns.

I think that seeing me react so violently under the stress of suddenly needing to handle everything alone from the moment we wake till the minute everyone hits the sack made Ben and Becks realise that things can’t be what they used to be any more.

The afternoon the helper left, we came home and I started putting things in order. I tidied up, I bathed them, I gave instructions clearly and I prepared dinner. Then we had dinner – and they had to eat every single thing I cooked with no complaints, I washed the dishes, prepped everything ready for school the next day, cleaned them up and tucked them in bed. Things didn’t go smoothly, of course. Nat stuck a Yakult straw in his ear. Someone left the tap running while I got busy. Becks left some pee on the toilet seat. Ben splashed water everywhere showering himself. They made faces at the meal I cooked. Crayons were strewn all over the living room floor. My legs were hugged while I was stir-frying. Nat begged to be nursed while kitchen fumes filled the house. Becks whined for an apple while I was chopping garlic. Nat tried to reach for knives. I could list 50 more things that happened but I don’t want to bore. Basically just three words: the kids happened.

But in the midst of the chaos, the kids happened! Ben took on his role as big brother readily and (sometimes) helped me watch and distract the mischievous littlest. They asked how they could help and by the end of the day we were all at the sink, with me doing the washing and the kids drying the plates and cutlery. All three of them, yes! They promised to help more. They offered to make less of a mess when they played or coloured or drew. They agreed to respond quickly to my commands so that I don’t have to turn into something ugly and start yelling.

By the second day, they were offering help in every way – from folding the clothes to picking up eraser dust and handing me the clothes pegs. They moved quickly when I called, got ready for school without needing help with socks and shoes. They carried their bags and heavy water bottles with no whining, and brought everything back to the sink whenever they were done with drinking and eating. We cleaned up in record time – Lego blocks were picked up and sorted, books were returned to the shelves and crayons back in the basket on the easel.

A mountain to conquer!

We conquered mountains (of clothes) together

When we headed out, they held hands and told me not to worry.

The car was at the mechanic and we were bus-ing to school - and this happened!

The car was at the mechanic and we were bus-ing to school – and this happened!

Can somebody first give me a pat on the back before applauding for these kids?

I’ll tell you the second reason why I’m happy.

The maid’s departure gave me a chance to be my totally OCD self. She came, whirled through my kitchen and made a big mess with my children’s wardrobe. Now that she’s gone, I singlehandedly sorted and organised my children’s clothes – sleepwear, underwear, home wear, going out wear, swimwear – and even managed to categorise everything according to clothes type, colour and size. I turned every single spoon, fork and chopstick in the cutlery tray in the same direction, bundled bedsheets by sets, cleaned out the fridge for expired items and hung out the laundry the way my OCD self would be happy doing. I’m a strange person to be feeling merry just rolling socks the way I want them paired and scrubbing toilets with just one toothbrush, but yes, I am merrily, merrily doing all these.

Now, this is what I’ve been dreaming about, albeit with much muscle ache and terribly wrinkled hands – a house in order at last.

Just proves one point: who’s the BEST maid for my house?

Me.

But that doesn’t mean I am not going to decide against hiring a helper. I’m bone tired and beyond exhausted, remember?

I think this absence of a domestic helper is doing the kids who have been taking many things for granted a whole lot of good. We’ve got two weeks to shape up before a new one comes and I have a feeling we’ll be doing even better by then – to the point that we’ll have a relationship with her that’s interdependent and not dependent, and that is the third reason why I’m happy.

The Kao Kids Thunderstorm days What to Expect... As a Mother

The day has already ended for me

April 29, 2014

Dammit

Dammit.

It’s 9 am that I’m writing this and the day has already gone downhill. I am angry and exasperated. My blood’s reached boiling point and I am so ready to call it a day, curl up in bed and wake up the next morning.

So I thought I should start waking up consistently earlier a few days a week to get some work done. I’ve been following this blog and getting inspired to make some small changes in my life. I’ve been waking up with the kids (I sleep with them in their room) or sometimes later than them (if I stayed up to catch up on Running Man which I am currently addicted to) ever since Fatherkao started making the huge sacrifice of taking public transport and letting me sleep in instead of having me send him to work. I used to wake up at 6.30am to send him to work and every time I did that, the kids would also be up by 7 am bawling their eyes out. Don’t ask me why. It’s probably because they can’t find their mother and can’t go back to sleep without her. But if I slept till 9 am with them, they would usually all wake up fresh, happy and contented.

Waking up together with them has guaranteed me well-settled kids for the good part of the morning, except that now that I work from home, I’ve essentially gotten zero work done on most days. I try to stay up to do my planning and writing but I usually get so exhausted I just want to tune out, watch something on my iPad to wind down and go to sleep. It’s been a real challenge trying to find time to work while being constantly there for the kids and sometimes this becomes impossible.

Like today.

I got up at 7, saw that everyone in the room was sound asleep and crept stealthily out of bed to shower and get ready. There was editing to do, programme write-ups to think about and blog posts to plan for and I am all ready to lock myself in the study for an hour of productive work.

Then I got out of the shower and saw the little girl sprawled in front of me, awake but groggy and wanting all my attention. She whined and refused to get on with the routine for brushing teeth and having breakfast. Worse still, Nat also sensed the mom absence in the room and woke up upset and clingy. They both hung around the study, threw crayons and colour pencils (and whined some more while at that) and started squabbling. The new helper was completely helpless and totally incompetent in handling children (more on her soon in another post) and had no ability whatsoever to get the kids to listen to her.

Recipe for an explosive outburst from me there, I say.

At the breakfast table which I made everyone sit, they were making faces at the bread I bought from Crystal Jade last night and whining non stop for me. I tried two rounds of calm, patient talking and told the kids that they needed to eat and I would need to get some work done but MORE whining ensued, complete with legs kicking, chairs falling and hissy fits. Before I knew it, I morphed into my monster self, screamed at Nat and Becks for their poor behaviour and the maid for just sitting there not being able to handle the situation.

I only needed one hour. One hour to be productive. And it can’t even happen.

And then Ben woke up from all this commotion and things started happening on an even bigger scale. So after Mom’s outburst they were all suddenly cooperative and eating their breakfast and then decided that they wanted to play together. For a total of 5 minutes before the eldest started to complain about everyone else, namely his sister for eating into his space and his brother for throwing things and then more fighting ensued as they started to snatch toys and push one another. Now I have three kids fully awake, giving each other dagger stares and exasperating me to the point I want to scream in their faces and tell them all to go back to bed.

I only needed one hour. One hour to be productive. And it can’t even happen.

It’s extremely annoying that these kids can’t continue to sleep without the mother presence. It’s even more annoying that they can’t seem to share and play together peacefully and happily ever after. In days like these, I often question if I’ve gone all wrong with the way I parent them; if I made the wrong decision to have more than one kid (one kid = nobody to fight with = peace in the house); if I made the wrong move to do three kids back to back; if I had done the stupidest thing to co-sleep; if I had pursued the wrong cause of wanting to start something of my own; if they are like this because I stayed home.

I only needed one hour. One hour to be productive. And it can’t even happen.

And I’m the one all ready to bawl my eyes out now.

Ecard credit: thelaughingstork.com

Ecard credit: thelaughingstork.com

What about you? Do you have days like these? Misery loves company, so hit the comment button and share your misery with me!

(Self) Examination Re: learning and child training Thunderstorm days

A wreck, that’s what I am

January 28, 2014

A wreck that's what I am

January has been a month of nonsense, noise and a whole bull-load of no-no-nos.

Almost every day, I live to fight a thousand and one fires. No kidding. I’m sure if I counted them, they would add up to a thousand and one more than a thousand and one.

That plus having to deal with so much nonsense from every single kid in the house that comes with the fighting, bickering, squabbling, crying; on top of my yellling, hollering and hyperventilating, in addition to the youngest in his Terrible Two stage saying ‘no’ to every-friggin’-possible-thing to say no to, making a mess of any-friggin’-possible-thing to make a mess of (just lately: our Waldo books and graded readers have been torn, the Immunped on the kitchen top has been shattered to pieces with one swift throw, the toilet paper in the bathrooms have been shredded and stuffed in the toilet bowls, just to mention a few) and the middle child regressing to join the youngest in his Terrible Two phase, thinking it must be the cleverest way to also get some attention.

Almost every day, walls and body parts get colour-markered, paper of all sorts from receipts to tissues and kitchen towels get shredded, and everything from books to toy cars to pillows and spoons litter the house. The middle child recently taught the youngest how to cut up rubber bands to make ‘pasta’ and the littlest has discovered the flush of the toilet bowl. The oldest is facing quite a bit of pressure from me to do more learning than playing and there have been far too many days of meltdowns and tantrums that also happen on his end (and I thought we were over that stage). The youngest is dishing out mischief every waking minute it’s becoming unbearable: think taking out poop filled diapers and running round the house butt naked, rummaging my wardrobe to wear ten panties and a bra over his head and smearing the dining table with the ketchup you give him to dip his sotong balls in and then his own face and his hands and legs, and then you. The three are also fighting so much they would mortally wound each other, literally with swords, clubs and Nerf guns. They absolutely love to bicker and pull the na-na-nee-boo-boo stunt on one another it would often result in a shouting match and lots of tears. During bath times (and because I bathe them together) they would spit water at one another, fight for the shower head only to drench me silly and eat soap.

Every day at meal times, the middle kid has regressed to a point of neediness that she demands to be fed or else. And the or else comes in the form of hell I get at 2am, 4am and 6am when she wakes up, screams her way for milk in a bottle and I go FML at her throughout the night. The youngest is giving me so many problems at meal times not wanting to sit still to eat and behaving like the brattiest person of his age on Planet Earth and goes “Mama milk…Mama milk!” with every single toss and turn while he sleeps. I am still nursing this 23 month old big baby with such an absolute sense of helplessness every night so that he shuts up and stops waking the family. I feel so sorry for my overworked boobs. The only saving grace is my eldest who’s taken on the role of the moral policeman, policing his brother and sister when they misbehave and going to the store room to take Mr Cane out (for me) so I can mete out punishment. His enthusiasm to end the craziness at meal times is commendable, which also means only one out of three does well during breakfast, lunch and dinner.

It’s an understatement to say that I am exhausted.

I am beyond exhausted. Why is it so exhausting to stay home with these kids?

When I was teaching in a school, I felt bad leaving my kids in childcare and have them taught and “raised” by their childcare minders while I teach and “raise” the kids at school like my own. Now that I am home with them, I’m often left to fend off the thought of wanting to go back to the old routine. At least I am getting paid and won’t be living in fear everyday of losing my sanity.

These days, I yell so much I think I’m going mad.

On days like these, I also snap at my husband and blame him for the fact that we did three kids in four years. What the hell were we thinking? What was I thinking? How is it that my life is so crazy? Why did he even think I can survive staying home? This is so batshitstressful it’s all his fault. Poor guy, I know he has your sympathy already. This man has to work so hard in the day and comes home to a wife with flailing arms and incessant complaining about how tough her job is.

How do people with more than three kids do it? I’m about to just worship the ground you walk if you have three kids back to back and more. Or if you have triplets or quadruplets or two pairs or more pairs of twins. Sometimes I wish Ben, Becks and Nat were triplets and perhaps life might be easier than this. At least they are of the same age and would go through their developmental milestones at the same time and this birth order thing wouldn’t be such a big thing in influencing their temperaments.

I’m not going to end this post with a revelation that I should Carpe Diem! and that I have realised that despite all the challenges, these are small things if I look at the big picture and come to a realisation that some day they wouldn’t need me / they would grow up / they would remember their childhood / they would appreciate that their mother stayed home. I have none of these epiphanies yet. Yes, yes, I know I must count my blessings and that I do have three beautiful lovely children – but I ain’t gonna end this post with a conclusion that I’ve had it all made when actually I’m:

a) really crumbling

b) finding myself a wreck on most days

c) completely exhausted by this mothering gig at this stage of my children’s life

d) all of the above

It’s tough.

It’s crazy.

Life’s a bitch sometimes.

FML.

I don’t know how I make it through each day.

BUT in all these, His strength will be made perfect in my weakness.

(Self) Examination I ♥ lists Thunderstorm days

No love in my tummy

November 18, 2013

Two weeks ago I experienced symptoms similiar to a fourth pregnancy: nausea, bloating, morning sickness. I was wretching bile in the early hours of the first two mornings and kept awake at night by cold sweat as my tummy started getting all knotted up like clockwork come 2am.

Except that I am definitely not pregnant. And it definitely ain’t gonna be any fourth time.

I went to the doctor after trying to tahan the pain for 5 days, and was told I might have a case of peptic ulcer. A peptic ulcer is an ulcer caused by stomach acid. An ulcer is where the lining of the gut is damaged and the underlying tissue is exposed. The doctor prescribed some acid suppressing medication and instructed that I try it out for 3 days. If it worked, I could continue treatment for a week. If it didn’t, it means that the ulcer was more serious than she thought and I would need a scope and day surgery.

Picture by Rob Jr. Picture Credit: Deviantart.com

Picture by Rob Jr. Picture Credit: Deviantart.com

The ulcer is healing right now, and I am glad I am feeling much better. I’ve made a couple of changes to my lifestyle (small little ones!) to make sure the condition doesn’t recur, and at age 32, I am glad for this wake-up call to treat myself better even with full time motherhood duties consuming my entire body, soul and mind.

1. Quit bubble tea

Yes, I’ve made one of the hardest decisions I have to make this year.

For someone who has had a cup of bubble tea (I drink milk tea at 25% sugar with no ice and no toppings) every single day since March 11 2013 (the day the kids started kindy and I started walking to Nex 5 days a week), it’s a painful one to quit for the bubble tea addict that is me. But in light of the hyperacidity in the stomach, and the pain I’ve experienced for that 5 days, it’s clear sign that perhaps this addict needs rehab.

2. Light supper half an hour before bed

I don’t have the habit of eating before I go to bed (unless I didn’t have my dinner). But now I try to have a cup of warm Milo and some bites if there’s a gnawing feeling of hunger. If I’m feeling really hungry, I no longer try to sleep the hunger away till the next morning (which I often do for fear of gaining weight). A few nights ago I cooked myself a bowl of ramyeon before I went to bed. The warm soup that warmed my stomach helped me sleep very well that night!

3. Eno’s is not a bad idea

It took a while for me to differentiate these three uncomfortable state of being: feeling bloated, feeling gassy, feeling hungry. I never had all these problems until recently, and I found the answer to one of the problems in this horrid drink! Hands up if you hate Eno’s Fruit Salt as much as I do. But surprisingly, the fast-acting effervescent fruit salt used as an antacid and a reliever of bloatedness has saved me on more occasions than one. I’m making sure this is a frequently stocked up item in the medicine cabinet.

4. Don’t pile on the chilli. Or belachan. Or chincalok. And go easy on the tom yum.

Nuff’ said. Another big sacrifice for a person who absolutely loves, loves, loves her spices. Moderation is now the answer to all my stomach woes.

5. Go for warm instead of iced

Never thought I would say this, but yea. I thought I’d only order warm drinks and stay away from iced ones when I am 60. Drinking cold drinks gave me so much pain when I had the stomach ulcer episode, and so now warm beverages are the way to go for me.

Many folks like to associate ulcers with stress, and I tend to think being stressed out lowers one’s immunity somewhat. Although it’s not been proven that stress, cold drinks and spices cause stomach ulcers, well, whatever it is, I’m making sure that this doesn’t come back to torture me again by chillax-ing as much as I can, and not get so worked up with the kids.

Be kind to your tummies and keep healthy!

Also linking up with:

www.ajugglingmom.com
Parenting 101 Re: learning and child training The darndest kid quotes and antics The Kao Kids Thunderstorm days What to Expect... As a Mother

Survivng Fight Club (or ‘How to Handle Sibling Conflicts’)

November 5, 2013

sibling-rivalry

I shared in an earlier post how the kids are fighting every day, and how it’s come to a point I am seeing blood.

So what does a mother do when the fighting start? How much conflict should she tolerate? When should a mother intervene, and how does she do that?

In this post, I share three principles Fatherkao and I abide by.

Rule #1 Don’t get involved

It is common for siblings to disagree, squabble and fight. I remember what Dr Kevin Leman says in his book Making Children Mind Without Losing Yours that when children fight, they are actually “cooperating with each other”:

“It seems odd to call fighting an act of cooperation, but that is exactly what is happening. It is extremely difficult to get a fight going with only one person.”

He goes on to say that the best way to handle this is to give the children what they want. If they want to fight, let them. Our right as parents is to say where and under what conditions they can fight – in a room elsewhere, at the backyard, away from everyone so that it does not interfere with the peace and welfare of others in the home. He also mentions one thing which I see happening when the kids fight.

“Their fighting, for the most part, was designed to get the parents needlessly involved in their hassles. The sooner parents learn to stay out of their children’s hassles the sooner they will teach their children greater responsibility and accountability.”

I couldn’t agree more. My job as a mother is not to eliminate conflict and rivalry between siblings. Conflict at home  is natural. My job is to help each child resolve his or her conflicts in a positive way and build psychological muscles for dealing with the realities of life. So when I see a fight starting, I usually order the kids to take it elsewhere, out of my sight. I shoo them into the room, close the door and say, “Resolve the matter. Come out when you’re done.”

And you know what? Most of the time, they immediately say, “We don’t want to fight anymore, Mama.”

Rule #2 Step in only when there’s a danger of physical harm

Following Rule #1 doesn’t mean that I encourage my kids to fight. I see it as an opportunity for them to resolve their conflicts without me as their audience. The problem with always intervening is that you risk creating other problems. The kids may start expecting help and wait for you to come to the rescue rather than learning to work out the problems on their own. One kid would also feel more “protected” than another, and that would inadvertently make the kid feel he or she can get away with things, while at the same time stirring up sentiments of resentment in the other kid who is not “rescued”.

But if there’s a threat of physical harm, there’s a need to call the shots. Sometimes one child may pick a fight with another who is totally outmatched in size and strength. Sometimes a child may be provoked so badly by name calling and taunting he loses control and smacks the one provoking him. Sometimes a child may use things to hurl at another as an act of retaliation. These have all happened (and more – pushing and shoving and biting and kicking, yes, all and more) and I have had to clean up the sometimes very bloody battlefield with a very broken heart. This is when all involved in the battle gets a time-out and a swipe of the cane on their bums. This is when I insist that nobody is right and everybody is wrong and they all kiss and make up. Fatherkao sometimes insists that they think of three things to do to show love to each other, especially to the one injured.

So no matter how bad they feel or how angry they are, when the adults intervene, it usually means that they will be forced to hug, kiss and say “I love you.”

Rule #3 Let reality be their teacher

This one is a little difficult to follow. I’m always more inclined to protect the kids and make excuses for their misbehaviour – he must be tired, she feels neglected, this only happened twice – but thankfully, my partner in parenting, i.e. the other parent, is someone who stands quite firm and is more principled than I am. This rule we have at home is inspired by Dr Kevin Leman, who coined the term “reality discipline” which basically means to let nature take its course. And when nature doesn’t take care of the problem, the parents help nature along. The fundamental idea is to not rescue your kids from the consequences of failed responsibility. You allow life lessons and experiences to teach your children while they are still at home under your loving authority. Parents should not hover (like helicopters) or rule autocratically but authoritatively guide and direct them in a loving relationship.

I’m still learning to do this, and am consciously looking out for ways to teach the children. Recently, a fight broke out between Ben and Nat. Nat was perceived to be attempting to destroy something Ben has built, when actually he was just ruled by curiosity and driven by the need to explore. Ben obviously doesn’t understand developmental milestones, got upset and swung a plastic bucket (the sandcastle type) at him. What he didn’t know was that that bucket had a crack and the broken piece which was jutting out cut Nat on the flesh just below his eye.

This was the perfect opportunity to apply Rule #3. Fatherkao calmly took Ben to a corner, ordered for a time out and put on a blindfold for him. We thanked God that Nat was not wounded fatally but needed Ben to understand what it would be like if his eye was injured. So he went around not being able to see during dinnertime, all the way till it was almost bedtime. In fact, he ate his dinner blindfolded.

We didn’t lecture, didn’t scold, didn’t cane. In fact, credit goes to my husband who remained so calm it made me a little embarrassed (I had earlier gone hysterical but held my tongue from screaming at Ben).

Part of reality discipline: teaching Ben what it's like if he's lost his sight

Part of reality discipline: teaching Ben what it’s like if he’s lost his sight

There you have it. Three things that I try to remember when the fights begin at home. By the way, there’s gonna be Rule #4 come the day I can find boxing gloves their size. It’ll be “Make kids put on boxing gloves”. 

The darndest kid quotes and antics The Kao Kids Thunderstorm days What to Expect... As a Mother

Welcome to Fight Club

November 4, 2013

There is almost nothing constant in the world of parenting the Kao kids. The dynamics change. The demands change. The seasons change.

And now, I’m spending every single day breaking fights, stopping squabbles and wiping away blood and tears.

A few months ago, everything was still fine and dandy. I remember writing a post about how my babies are finally playing together.

Then just like that, everything’s changed. There’s suddenly a lot of angst in the house. The kids are smacking one another, snatching things and yelling. A LOT. Somewhere some time in the day, somebody’s being bullied, crying foul or yanking hair. I don’t interfere in their sibling quarrels usually, but now that there are more incidents of blood, I am yelling more frequently, sending kids for time out and inviting Mr Cane to handle some of these fights.

One of the reasons for this new situation arising is because someone is stepping into the zone called the Terrible Twos at 21 months. Oh man, this boy knows how to fend for himself, alright! He’s not one to be bullied, and he asserts his independence in as many ways as he knows how. He’s also started smacking (faces), throwing (things at people) and biting (body parts of anyone) whenever he perceives that he is at a disadvantage.

The other reason is because Ben is beginning to understand the notion of fairness, justice and revenge. I’m beginning to suspect that Ben may be more gifted than I think he is. He is verbally expressive, and argues with me like a lawyer would with another in court. The case he is arguing is usually his own, and he is very skilled in negotiating about rules, punishment, discipline, bedtime, dinner – basically nearly anything he doesn’t like or wishes to avoid (but that’s for another post another time, and another issue altogether). And because he thinks that whatever Mom and Dad expect of him should be the same with his siblings, he gets considerably upset and angsty when things are not equal. Things are not always equal because he is four and he should know better and has been taught more things.

Anyway, it is this grappling with the notion of fairness and justice that has caused him to be quite pent up. As a result, he sometimes act like a bully when things don’t go his way.

And of course, we have to add Becks to the equation, the little girl who still has tantrums and meltdowns, and who’s learning the art of negotiation from her brother by watching him every day. She joins this by contributing spiteful words with her unbridled tongue, always yelling, “I don’t love you anymore!” and getting way too emotional.

So there you have it. These two months have been tough with the kids with their evolving needs and temperaments. One minute they could be playing together and the next, they would be tugging shirts and pushing one another. They swing from adoring one another one moment and declaring “I don’t love you” the next. There’s a lot of tempers to tame, a lot of conflicts to negotiate and communication skills to be taught. This is one of the biggest challenges of having three children aged 18 months apart between each other thus far.

Some people say siblings that fight the most are the tightest and closest when they grow up. I sure hope that they will grow up tightly knit looking at the number of fights I have to break up every day.

Fight_Jantoo

Picture from Jantoo Cartoons

Becks Kao Ben Kao Family life as we know it The darndest kid quotes and antics Thunderstorm days

Out of the mouths of babes

June 25, 2013

The prayers that were said during the haze crisis, by Ben and Becks:

18 June: The haze descended and PSI hit 155. We rushed out to buy one of the last 6 units of air cleaners at Courts Tampines before confining ourselves at home.

“Dear Heavenly Father, make the haze go away. We want to go out and have fun.”

19 June: PSI soared from 190 to 290 in less than an hour, and all of us watching TV thought we read a typo.  Who would have known that this was the beginning of bonker-dom indoors? The scramble for the N95 masks begins.

“Dear Lord Jesus, it’s very hazy outside our window and we have to close the windows now. We pray the haze will go away. Amen.”

Haze

20 June: PSI went way past the hazardous level to 371. Smoke got in our eyes.

“Dear Lord, send a GIANT pour of rain to wash away all this haze here and the fires in Indonesia. We want to go out and play!”

21 June: PSI hit 400 and we never knew it could be soooo bad. Choking on smog already. *Cough cough*

“Dear Heavenly Father, if You can’t send rain, can you send the wind to blow this smokiness and smell away?”

(Ben also asked God if he could kill the bad people in Indonesia. I laughed very hard for a few seconds, then told him I’m glad he’s not God.)

22 June: The skies miraculously cleared. We start to see blue again. Breathing better now too. We headed out for Baskin Robbins and bubble tea.

“Thank you, Jesus, for a beautiful day. You sent a big wind to blow all our haze away! It’s nice we can go out today. Amen.”

23 June: Our skies are clear for two days running, and the worst seems to be over. Indonesia has begun cloud-seeding, we hear. But the PM2.5 concentrations are still high, so we’re not taking our chances.

“Dear Heavenly Father, we pray for a big rain to wash away the haze particles we cannot see. Mama says after a huge rain washes all the little things away, we can go to the zoo or Bird Park or Sentosa. Can you send us a huge rain? “

24 June: Visibility has returned but there sometimes is that lingering burning smell. Or has the stench of smog lodged itself permanently in my nose?

“Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for the wind that is blowing everything away. Do you know there’s no rain so we cannot go to the zoo? There’s only wind, so we go to the library. Thank you, God, for a beautiful day that we can go out, but we still haven’t go zoo, you know?”

– Tonight’s prayer by Becks, who clearly prefers the zoo to the library

The National Environment Agency said the improved air quality is due to a change in wind direction over Singapore, from south-westerly to southerly since Saturday night.

I say our good God hears our prayers and answers them.

(Self) Examination Mommy guilt Thunderstorm days

Mega meltdown, monster-style

April 16, 2013

The background

Our new routine is proving to be quite a challenge to coordinate naptimes and bedtimes with three kids reaching different milestones. Ben is now able to drop his nap and go down for 12 hours straight from 9 to 9. Becks still need at least an hour of naptime so she wouldn’t get cranky at dinnertime. And Nat practically just sleeps whenever he wants however long he wants. I’ve been trying to divide and conquer on most afternoons, and it has worked for a while, until yesterday. After returning from kindy, Becks gets tucked in first and it’s like our special time together. After she falls asleep, I tuck Nat in. Ben gets to play on his own while waiting for me, and when I emerge victorious, usually an hour later, we do a special project and some learning together.

There’s no problem except that sometimes Becks doesn’t wish to nap even though she’s tired and only falls asleep at around 4.30 and refuses to wake till 6ish in the evening. She needs that nap so she can have her dinner (she won’t eat when she’s tired). I need her to have that nap so night terror doesn’t strike at night for her (she has a history of this whenever she’s overstimulated). But if she sleeps for more than an hour in the afternoons, she has problems falling asleep at bedtime.

At night, I usually divide and conquer again. I tell Ben because he skipped his nap, he must be the first to go to bed, and I tuck in both boys, leaving the little girl to play on her own till both boys have fallen asleep. This works on days when she’s in the mood to be on her own. Some days she can be very sticky and insists on following me everywhere I go, which also means she would enter the room and yak non stop, which can be very annoying for the boys who are trying to get some rest.

The story

So yesterday, our little girl took a nap longer than she should, woke up throwing a tantrum because she wanted to sleep more, and basically ruined a lovely evening we all could have had together. When it’s time for her brothers to go to bed, she insisted that she was tired (at 9.30) and lay on her bed talking and singing, giggling and tossing (she was clearly NOT tired) and only went down after I smacked her bum 15 minutes before midnight. She made me lie next to her, pat her, massage her, pray with her, answer her questions – and sometimes drifting in and out of sleep before fighting it again – for two frigging hours.

I only managed to get some rest after midnight. I went to bed very frustrated having wasted so much precious time.

At 7 this morning, guess who sprang up first? The little girl got up quite happy, prodded her little brother who’s sleeping on the floor (with me) and they both scampered out of the room to play ball.

Half an hour later, she decided it’s no fun playing with him, and came to holler at me. It’s her way of waking me up. Now, I know a loving, gentle, ever selfless mom would spring up, give her a big hug, say “good morning” and get ready to spend some time with her little ones. I’m clearly not one. I pulled the blanket over my head and begged her to let me sleep. I told her she could go read a book, play with her toys or just hang around the baby.

Well, those options were clearly not what she wanted to do. She proceeded to sulk herself into a tantrum, yank my blanket away from me, hit me on the head and threw a fit by crying into my ears and screaming into my face.

Now, I know a loving, gentle, ever selfless mom would by now wake up, lovingly discipline the child for throwing the tantrum, give her some breakfast and a big bear hug.

No surprises here, but I’m clearly not one. I pleaded with her to let me sleep an hour more, asked her to go away and stop her screaming. When she didn’t, I left the room, shut the door to the master bedroom, and tried to go back to sleep.

But someone decided to bang the door, scream even louder and up the volume of her crying after I did that, and that was when it happened.

I lost it. I could have walked into the shower, taken a warm bath and walked out of the room a loving and gentle mom, and give her the attention she needed. But I didn’t. I flew into a rage. I opened the door, picked her up, flung her onto the bed like a big bad bully. I took the cane out, smacked her bum uncontrollably (she’s got diapers on) and yelled repeatedly, “DO YOU KNOW IF YOU DON’T LET ME SLEEP, I WILL TURN INTO A MONSTER? NOW I’M A MONSTER!” I just kept on yelling and caning the bed (she’s rolled away by now) until I was exhausted and collapsed onto the bed.

The resolution

What else would I feel but a huge surge of mom guilt overwhelming my entire being. I felt rotten and terrible for smacking her out of anger. I held her tight and told her I was sorry for being such a nasty mother. We both sobbed ourselves to sleep. When she woke up again after 45 minutes, she gave me a huge smile and asked, “Mama, are we going to the playground first, then to kindergarten?” She didn’t seem to remember what had just happened, or maybe she did; but one thing I knew: she forgave me. I carried her to the playground and had breakfast with the kids while they played. Before I sent her off to school, I kissed her on her cheek and said, “I love you very much, you know?” She nodded and hugged me back.

I thank God for His mercies which are new every morning. And for a daughter who extends forgiveness readily to her monster mom. I am loved despite having failed, and this is truly grace.

Dear Sweetheart, may you grow and blossom to be a woman of grace – someone who’s beautiful inside and outside. I’m learning each day to be a better Mama to you and am grateful for your forgiveness and love.

Becks smiling

Also linking up with:

Milestones and growing up The Kao Kids Thunderstorm days What to Expect... As a Mother

Mom, interrupted, Part 2

March 8, 2013

We haven’t been doing much homelearning these days. Murphy is quite the chap that’s been sticking around here lately, with the Kao kids taking ill, one after another.

First up, a case of vomitting, high fever, cough and runny nose, needing meds like Rhinatiol, Motillium and Adezio for almost a week.

Then someone had bronchitis and needed Flixotide, Combivent and Sodium Chloride in mist form thrice a day through the nebuliser.

Today, another kid threw up like clockwork and yet another epsiode of stomach flu has begun.

This whole week alone, the kids are finishing up the Paracetamol Suspension faster than I can pronounce ‘Paracetamol’, not to mention tissue papers.

With the remaining energy that’s left, we’ve only managed to go downstairs for mini explorations to search for critters…

Snail hunt

Play ball with the baby who adores all things round every waking minute…

Playing basketball

As well as try a few of the many craft materials in February’s Toddibox (review on that later!)…

Craft from the Toddibox

It’s been quite a manic month, this March. I need to be showing Murphy the door.

Milestones and growing up The Kao Kids Thunderstorm days What to Expect... As a Mother

Mom, interrupted, Part 1

March 6, 2013

Ever since the stay-home gig started on 1 March, it’s been nothing short of crazy here.

In fact, I’ll be frank and go as far to say it’s been *crap*.

I’ve been barking, hollering and watching my blood pressure go up while feeling my blood boil as I attempt to undo some years of bad habits and poor child training.

I would go, “Stop what you’re doing and let’s have breakfast now.”

And the kids would go:

But I’m busy. I want to do what I’m doing.

No, I don’t want to eat breakfast. Eww, what’s that? Yucks!

This happens for lunch time, bath time, nap time and whatever-Mama-says time. Every time.

Then there would be the meltdowns and temper tantrums ranging from not wanting to wear a particular piece of clothing I’ve chosen to not being the first in line for vitamins. Like the “why-you-give-whoever-the-vitamin-first-and-not-me” kind of silly tantrums.

Plus, arguments and fights on an hourly basis and having to put children in their time-out corners for I-dunno-how-many-bloody-times a day, a needy baby who wants to be carried ALL THE TIME, a four-year-old asking you incessantly “What can we do now?” and a middle child who’s practically screaming her own head off when things don’t go her way, I’m pretty much going beserk after 6 days.

I’m also doubling up as maid of the house because it is just impossible for the helper to manage the chores. So guess what, I’m also mopping the crayon stains, folding laundry and changing bedsheets. Every day, someone would wet the bed, spill milk, scatter Cheerios, litter the house with shreds of paper cut-outs and eraser shavings, and smear the walls with Crayola.

Ysetreday's dirty laundry

Yesterday’s dirty laundry

Two baskets of unfolded laundry

Two baskets of unfolded laundry

Unfolded 2

And then some more

But I’m no fool of a Mama that will accept things as they are, and have these kids continue to be poorly behaved.

Child training – this is how it begins.