Motherkao Archives - Page 14 of 18

My secret to being a happy mother

May 10, 2013

Someone with three children recently wrote an article on the secret to being a happy mother.

Her secret: outsourcing all the tedious jobs of childcare and domestic chores to a team of hired help. Ms Katie Hopkin’s idea of happiness is to acknowledge that there’s nothing wrong with employing other women to do all the traditional ‘female’ job in the house, from sewing to cooking to mothering the kids. She argues that women with potential and capability should live guilt-free to pursue high-flying careers.

It’s high-flyers like her who keep others at work, she says. High-flyers like her get a supply of nannies to watch her son run on sports day and her daughters sing at concerts because they prefer to “find something productive to do rather than engage in all the amorphous domesticity that being a mother seems to involve”.

She’s clearly misunderstood what being a mother really means. It’s probably just all about the sex, pregnancy and delivery. And having a uterus, that is. I wonder if she would outsource these if she could.

She clearly did not ask her children if they are happy with this arrangement. A happy mother doesn’t always equal happy kids, mind you. And being happy now doesn’t necessarily mean you would be happy in the future. I’m not sure if she would still be happy if her kids hired five nurses to care for her in old age to pursue their high-flying careers.

While I agree that most of us, if given a choice, wouldn’t want to do the mundane tasks at home if we could afford to employ people who can do them on our behalf, I draw the line at my intention of outsourcing.

I have a helper because the outsourcing gives me more quality time with my children, allows me to be around and available for them and provides me with a more comfortable (read: cleaner) environment to live in. Like being able to read a book after dinner and not having to worry about the dishes. Or doing some crafting and painting without needing to spend the next hour vacuuming the glitter and paper shreds.

And that is that. I still step into the kitchen to cook and bake, clean and mop the house so the helper gets to rest, help to fold the clothes and scrub the toilets because I want them to have memories of their mother doing so. How can I teach them values and life skills if I don’t do some of these things too? I want them to remember fondly that Mama bathed them, fed them, cleaned up their mess and hung around when they fell ill; that Mama took pride in keeping the house organized and comfortable; that Mama’s not a lazy, pompous ass.

And most importantly, that Mama mothered them.

Some of my fondest memories I have of my mum are the times she baked and cooked in the kitchen, and making me soups and herbal tea when I fell ill. I shudder to think of the memories I’d have of her if she was a high-flying career women who never attended any of my book prize award presentations or baked me any birthday cakes.

Even if I have the money, I wouldn’t outsource things that would rob my children of memories of me. Someday, the kids will grow up. Someday, they will reminisce. Someday, when I am gone, I want them to be able to say:

“I remember Mama watched me sing at my recital. She even ironed my shirt the night before.”

“Mama always made chicken soup for me on rainy days.”

“Mama bakes the best cakes.”

“Mama was always around for us.”

I wouldn’t want it to be Aunty so-and so, or anyone else.

My secret to being a happy mother? Living every day creating happy moments, even if it’s just one moment a day. You can’t do that if you outsource.

Bath moments: one of the things I’ll miss when the kids grow up

3 Comments

Parenting 101 Re: learning and child training

“You born number what huh?” – Birth Order 101

May 8, 2013

I’m not sure if you’ve heard about the Birth Order Guy, but he’s one expert that I’ve been consulting a lot these days.

You see, this guy (God bless you richly, Dr Leman!) is a psychologist, award-winning author and seasoned counselor with years of research experience on birth order, and how birth order affects personality, marriage, relationships, parenting style and children. He’ll tell you that your birth order can play a significant part in your success and your personality, and generally the direction of your life; that your birth order affects the way you parent your child; and even go as far to offer insight as to which birth order pairs make the perfect pairing in marriage. (Fatherkao, if you’re reading this, do you know Dr Leman says “first born plus first born equals power struggle”? That explains a lot of things huh! Haha.)

So I’ve been in this situation lately where it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that all three of my children are distinctively and remarkably different, and I badly need to know how to parent my three kids effectively, and meaningfully, according to their bents.

Very clearly, these kids need to be parented in different ways, and understood accordingly. I need to break out of a one-size-fits-all mother mould.

Parenting The Firstborn

If Ben didn’t have siblings, he’d be the firstborn and only child. He had fatherkao and I all to himself for the first 18 months of his life and our undivided attention. Probably explains a lot about the whining, complaining and comparing. Deep down, I know he still wishes to be the only baby in the family.

#1 : With Ben, I must try not to be an “Improver”. As the firstborn, he already feels the need to be perfect in every way. He is eager to please and keen on making things right so we can be happy. I must learn not to add pressure and unreasonable expectations to feed that perfectionistic streak he might already have.

This is what Dr Leman gives as an example:

“For instance, let’s say you ask your oldest son to make his bed. Being a firstborn he will, of course, seek your approval and want you to see the finished task. If you tell him it looks good but then proceed to fluff the pillow and straighten out wrinkles in the bedspread, you send the message that he could have done better.”

#2 : Take Two-On-One Time: Firstborns often feel that parents don’t pay much attention to them because they’re always concentrating on the younger ones in the family. They often enjoy adult company more than any other child in the family, and respond to adult company better. One tip for parenting the firstborn is to make a special effort to get the firstborn to go out with dad and mum alone; this means we must try to make time to be with Ben exclusively – just the three of us.

Parenting The Middle Child

This is a tricky one, and the trickiest bit in parenting, in my opinion. I’ve never had an easy time with my middle child, and because the difference between the middle child and the firstborn can manifest in so many ways, even the experts will tell you it’s a whole new level altogether to parent the middle one. I guess if I never had the last kid, Becks would never experience the middle child syndrome; but since we have three and I can’t change this fact, it’s important that I learn (even if it’s for an entire lifetime) how to handle her.

#1 : Middle children tend to avoid sharing how they really feel. And Becks is less direct in expressing her thoughts. She uses crying and tantrums a lot, and calms down only when attention is given. Even then, she doesn’t share much. The Birth Order Guy has this to say:

“Although it’s important to set aside time to talk to all of your children, it’s particularly important to make this happen with the middle child because he is least likely to insist on his fair share of time.

#2 : Empowerment is important for the middle child so she can feel special. This will help alleviate feelings of always being overshadowed by older and younger siblings. Becks likes to feel important (and I’m sure we all do!), and we need to let her make some decisions for the family so she can feel a sense of significance. I’m going to start with letting her decide what the family would eat for dessert and what fruit she and her brother would bring to school for Tuesday’s Fruit Day.

Parenting The Lastborn

My littlest knows he is the baby of the family. He acts like it and at 15 months, is showing signs of using this knowledge to his advantage to get away with things. He plays well with his siblings but expects (yes, you’re right, he expects) all of us to give in to him. And yes, he often gets his way.

#1 : With the lastborn, I need to stick to the rules because the older ones are watching me closely. The same rules for discipline apply to him as to the older ones, age appropriate, of course.

#2 : When he gets older, he needs to be given responsibilities, as well as be duly applauded for his accomplishments. Lastborns often wind up with less to do around the house and are well known for feeling that nothing they do is important. They are the happy-go-lucky sort, so it’s important to instill a sense of responsibility to help them establish significance.

Someone once said that the deeper the understanding of the nuances of personality, the better a teacher, guardian or parent can specifically guide, respond and support our children towards the fulfillment of the purpose for which they were conceived. I want to do just that, so that everyday, I can be a better mum.

P.S: Of course, nobody likes to hear that something that’s beyond our control (our birth order, that is) can somewhat determine so many aspects of our lives, but understanding general personality traits both of myself and my children by birth order can greatly speed up this process of figuring them out, and how to be appropriate. I am never one to subscribe to stereotypes, and will always look out for exceptions in my kids as I parent them.

13 Comments

Parenting 101

Motherkao’s three DO NOTs

April 18, 2013

I’ve come up with three ‘DO NOTs’ for the kids.

I’ve had enough of being annoyed and vexed everyday, and sounding like the naggiest nagger of the century. I’m frustrated that I’m always yelling. So today, I looked Ben and Becks in the eye and said, “From now on, every time I give instructions, you must remember the three ‘DO NOTs’.

1) Do not ask why

Both Ben and Becks have this habit of asking why for everything now, and they usually ask for the sake of asking, and not because they genuinely want to find out about things. I’m training them to ask more intelligent questions, and also throwing each ‘why’ back at them if I feel they are fully capable of giving me the answer. And I have officially declared that when it comes to instructions, they are not allowed to ask why. On a daily basis, this is what they sometimes do to me:

Me: It’s 10 o’clock. Get changed to go to school.

Ben: Why?

~~~

Me: Come here and brush your teeth now.

Becks: Why?

~~~

In these two instances, there is no ‘because’. I often make the mistake of explaining to the children why they need to do what they need to do, but that, I realized, is not training them. I mean, why should I explain the reason for holding my hand when we cross the road, or why they need to take my word for what it is and follow my instructions in times of danger? The Nazi mum in me says they need to follow without questioning. I need instant obedience.

2) Do not say no

The other bad, bad habit is their reflex response of saying no to every single thing they are asked to do. In true militant style, I’m making them learn to say ‘Yes, Mama’ and not ‘No’.

I can say, “Come and drink some barley”, and they can go, “No, I don’t want”. I mean, did I give them an option? If they don’t learn to say yes to me, how are they going to learn submission and obedience to other forms of authority later in life? Imagine the primary school teacher go, “Draw a two-finger spacing margin” and my son says “I don’t want”. Epic fail in parenting.

3) Do not make me wait

Sometimes, they don’t ask why and they don’t say no. They simply ignore an instruction or disregard what I say. And I repeat it. And I repeat it. And I repeat it. And I repeat it. THEN I HOLLER. THEN I BLOW MY TOP!! This is such a stupid trap I fall into, so I’ve given them the order not to wait to respond to me. When I count to three, things must happen. They must come if I call. They must say ‘Yes, Mama’.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. Onward with more child training this week with my three golden rules!

12 Comments

(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.

Also linking up with:

8 Comments

I ♥ lists

5 random facts about this blog (& blogger)

April 12, 2013

1. Before I started this blog, everything was journalled by pen on paper. I wrote letters to the kids, each one of them – while I was preggers with them, and after they were born. Sweet thing to do, one would say, but very tiring indeed.

2. I started blogging in 2008 at ‘Of Pancakes and Panache’. I rambled and mused, and shared some snippets of my life baking, eating and having a chinchilla. And like every first time mum, I recorded boring details of having Ben as the centre of my universe.

3. I started ‘The Musings of Motherkao’ at the encouragement of my colleague who asked me to write about my life in Comedy Central because the stories I told of my kids cracked her up everyday. When I asked my husband what he thought, he was all for making our already hilarious lives public, and so started my journey of blogging away.

4. I’m very glad to have started this blog because I no longer need to report to anyone who wants to know how the kids are doing.

5. I wanted to be able to laugh at myself, so I *finally* embraced taking on my husband’s surname that was similar to a bovine. My friends now call me Motherkao instead of my name, and I’d like to think that that’s because they envy my wild life with three in the barn.

Linking up with:

0 Comments

Family life as we know it Milestones and growing up

Too far moments in history

April 10, 2013

Tonight the kids shared a moment in history which may never repeat itself in the months to come.

Nat, at 14 months, is finally drinking his milk from the bottle. Not much, but 10ml is good enough for a mother who has been trying to bottle-feed him since Day 1.

And so, we lined all three of them up for a photo to remember. Because soon enough, somebody’s gotta start drinking milk from the cup, or not even have the night milk feed at all (especially when it’s time to start toilet training for the night).

Soon enough, each of them would go on to reach their age-appropriate developmental milestones as they grow in the days and months ahead.

They might not be holding the bottle like they did today – together, at the same time.

And tonight, for the first time in my life, I allowed my mind to wander yonder to think about the moments in history which would only happen once. Like…

…2015 is the only year all three children would be preschoolers. Nat would be 3 (pre-nursery), Becks 5 (Kindergarten 1) and Ben 6 (Kindergarten 2).

…2019 will be the first of the three years to follow that they would all be primary schoolers.

…2025 will be the year that they will share a moment in history again. That would be the only year all three would be in Secondary school.

As I counted their ages with each progressive year, I began to feel a lump growing in my throat.

By the time I reached 2025, the lump in my throat got way too huge to swallow.

In the short span of time thinking, I also started to have a headache. The numbers 2015, 2019 and 2025 made my head throb. It’s crazy enough to be doing those mental sums and then imagining what life would be like with my children all grown up, and having to deal with that lump that’s still growing in the throat.

So for now, in 2013 – every day this year – they will still be my babies.

Now that helped me gulp the lump away.

6 Comments

Happy days

Birthday sweetness (and forever 21)

April 9, 2013

I turned a year older last week on a quiet Tuesday. The kids had some lessons with me at home, followed by kindy, as usual. After school, they picked out an ice cream cake at my favourite ice-creamery and then came home to nap. That was how most of the day went.

Until I was pleasantly surprised with a specially planned birthday dinner with family and friends at Cafe Hideout, a bistro just downstairs our place. My husband got Charles, the chef and owner, to specially prepare a menu to celebrate the occasion; and invited a few close friends and my family to have dinner with us.

We had the entire place to ourselves, brought our own champagne, and feasted into the night, with free-flow bread in the basket, Charles’ cream of tomato soup, trio of appetizers, huge slabs of pork ribs with mushroom risotto, and apple crumble for dessert.

The night was concluded with a Baskin Robbins ice cream birthday cake of chocolate goodness!

I went home with the feeling of sweetness through and through. I’m truly blessed and thankful to be spending this ordinary day with the extraordinary people in my life that matter most to me. Thank you to those who came and made it extra special, and thank you to the love of my life, who never fail to make my life sweeter than it already is.

P/S: Cafe Hideout serves the best meat sauce pasta and aglio olio, in my opinion. Chef Charles’ striploin steak and white wine butter sauce mushroom tagliatelle are a must-try if you’re there.

Disclaimer: Motherkao received no monetary compensation for this post, and opinions are strictly my own. I believe good things must be shared, so do check out this cafe that serves great food! More info on their FB page here.

2 Comments

Product Reviews

Comfortably natural [Product review, Part 1]

April 2, 2013

On the first night I brought my first baby home from the hospital, I sat in the living room at 3 in the morning and sobbed as I expressed milk. My husband, who thought it was the baby crying, woke up to see what had happened, only to find me in the dark, crying like a baby.

I borrowed a mini electric breastpump from a friend and had spent the last 45 minutes in the wee hours of the morning trying to express milk. I only managed a pathetic 5ml. I was engorged and clearly in great distress.

As I eased into motherhood and started reading reviews about breastpumps from forums (actually it was the husband that started reading up first), I became very particular about the type of breastpump I used.

For me, a breastpump must be three things – fast, comfortable and light. I’m not going to be wasting 45 minutes expressing so little, I’m not going to be bending forward and breaking my back, I’m not going to be lugging a brick around if I need to bring the pump out.

The one I’ve settled on using after that 3am-sobbing-in-the-night episode is a pretty sturdy one, one in which many mothers swear by. It’s trusty and has served me well since I had Ben. I breastfed Ben for 11 months, Becks for 3 and am still serving Nat as his milk machine at 13 months, and have been using it to express milk when I was away from them at work.

But I’ll be frank. This pump has only fulfilled one out of the three criteria I have. It’s fast because it has one helluva electric motor, but it’s hardly comfortable nor light. So when Philips AVENT sent over their new Comfort range breastpump for a mother who’s still searching for the perfect one that fits all three criteria, I couldn’t wait to review it to see if I’ve finally found ‘the one’.

The single electric Comfort breastpump

So I tried it while the baby was still at infantcare in February and was pleasantly surprised to see how compact it was and how light it felt. I’ll be the first to admit that its weight made me kinda skeptical of the speed of the breastpump motor. After opening it up, I separated and sterilised the parts, which was easy and definitely idiot-proof. The parts, which are few, are intuitively designed for assembly.

I used it in a RECLINING position cos’ it says I can “sit more comfortably with no need to lean forward” when using it. I’ve never done that using a breastpump ever since that one time I tried and the milk flowed backwards and made me very dirty, so I thought for the sake of the review, I’d give it a go.

Yes, so I leaned back on a nice huge pillow to use the Philips AVENT Comfort breastpump.

Nope, I’m sorry you’re not going to get a picture of me. Here’s a prettier model instead.

Comfort – check. Its unique petals were very nice to have against those tired boobs unlike the one I’m used to using, which sucks you very hard, if you know what I mean. This one actually felt soothing and warm.

Comfort, without spillage – check. The pump is indeed designed in a way that you can actually lean back a fair bit. I actually caught a few minutes of shut-eye while expressing, which was a first for me!

As for speed, it did take longer than my usual to express 120ml from one side, even though I opted for the fastest of its pumping settings, after using it in gentle stimulation mode. Comparatively speaking, the one I own is quicker and sucks much harder. Oh well, but for the few minutes of shut-eye I could get, I didn’t mind it actually.

120ml in about 20 minutes, using the fastest mode available

And its weight? The base unit of the Philips AVENT Comfort is so much lighter than what I am used to lugging around. It is easy to keep (the tube simply wraps around the base unit), compact, and has a nice shade of purple. It is also easy to use on the go with batteries.

There you have it, two out of three criteria fulfilled. For its comfort and compactness, I would say the Philips AVENT breastpump is thoughtfully designed for the tired mother who wants to unwind while expressing milk, and worth the investment if you’re looking for comfort spelled with a capital C.

I’ve also had the opportunity to review the new Natural range Philips AVENT milk bottles. More on it in Part Two.

More details:

The single electric Comfort breastpump retails at $309 and the twin electric retails at $779 and are available at leading departmental stores. baby specialty shops and selected hospital pharmacies from January 2013.

Disclosure: I received the single electric Comfort breastpump and Natural range feeding bottles for the purpose of this review. This post is part of a series of sponsored conversations by Philips AVENT.

0 Comments

(Self) Examination Getting all sentimental now

A walk down memory lane, to a day I was princess & queen

April 1, 2013

The mom bloggers in SMB were invited to share special memories of our wedding day as part of a linky party hosted by MummyMoo. So I took a slow walk down memory lane amidst the mothering madness, to a time and place on 11 Dec 2004 and gave thanks for that special day. That day when we said our vows and when he sang me ‘I love you for sentimental reasons’ and told everyone who came that he’s come home.

I remember that Saturday. I was all nervous and anxious. Some parts of the day went by in a blur. Truth be told, there are some things I wished I could change that day. For one, I wished I was more relaxed. I should have focused more on enjoying myself rather than worrying that my guests didn’t – a classic case of misplaced priorities here. I wished I had looked into my husband’s eyes a little longer and thoroughly enjoy my first dance with him, instead of looking around and making sure everything was going ok.

I wished we’d gotten a better photographer, because 9 years on, I’ve found the photos wanting and wished that more candid moments were captured. I am not particularly satisfied with the photo quality for most of my pictures. I also wished that the hotel didn’t print out the announcement for our wedding in black and white. So cheapo!

But there are some things I wouldn’t change for the world.

I wouldn’t change the fact that I married a man who meticulously made everything possible on my wedding day, from getting someone talented to design my dream gown to engaging our favorite jazz band to play at our wedding.

I wouldn’t change the fact that I’ve said my vows to the man who’s never failed to encourage me with words of kindness and love; the man who’s seen me at my worst, yet loves me despite; the man who has always stuck around when the going got tough.

Thank you, my dear, for giving me your heart and telling me that I was meant for you, and for making me the harbour for your ship to come home to.

Thank you for telling me that we’ve only got each other and that we will go through thick and thin together.

Thank you for believing that this is forever.

Thank you, for making me your queen.

Linking up with:

1 Comments

Becks Kao Mommy guilt

Saved, and forever grateful (A story of a girl who still has happy feet)

March 26, 2013

I thought this would only happen to irresponsible mothers and badly behaved children. I’d never imagine this would happen to me.

I had just released her right hand from my grip for three seconds. I was carrying the baby on my hip and needed to adjust the 10-kg weight.

Then it happened. I heard a blood-curdling scream and the next thing I knew, Becks was without her right shoe. When we arrived at the 3rd floor of the mall, Ben picked up her right shoe from the escalator, and this was what we saw.

Becks’ right shoe got caught in the escalator and I was expecting a gash and profuse bleeding when I checked my little girl’s sole. The babe was still wailing from the shock and I was almost prepared to call the ambulance. I was with three kids and the helper and without the hubs, and the mall was all quiet at 9.30am. We had gone to the basement for breakfast and was going to check out the enrichment centres on the top floor when the incident happened, and I might as well be on my way to crucify myself for being a negligent, terrible mother.

But because the angels of the Lord encamp around those who fear His name, and because the Lord Himself is our Protector and Help, Becks suffered no injury at all.

I don’t believe in luck, and never will. This isn’t because I am lucky. It is a miracle she was unhurt. God was taking care of my children, and He protected my little girl. Thank you, thank you, Jesus.

26 Comments

Older Posts

Newer Posts