Meeningfully

Well... there is still a few years before I need to worry about getting J into a primary school. The unfortunate thing is my affiliation is with a ( popular) all girls school and the man doesn't have any. Initially, when I knew I had a boy, it did cross my mind that I must be diligent in doing all these parent volunteering and what nots due to our lack of so-called advantage.   However, with the recent discussions around the P1 registrations, I begin wonder what I would do when it's our turn.

Today, as I reflect upon the time I knew I was pregnant with J, through the period I have been a mother, there's one thing I am truly thankful for. The presence of a special group of friends who made the journey so much easier just by being present, be it physically or virtually.  I appreciate that I can always just pop into our chat room on whatsapp to rant, to share, to complain or simply just to chat. We were housemates and friends back in our uni days. We probably shared some really deep dark secrets, countless good times and many waking hours together. After 3 years of living together, I drifted from the group while the other 2 ladies remained close friends. And when I thought the closeness we shared is probably going to be just a memory for me, God brought us back together with us having our kids all in the same year.  Now, I will feel weird if I don't check in on them or don't hear that familar beep on my handphone for more than 3 days. They were the first

This post was started with the intention to talk about the one thing which I felt, for the longest time, to be what stood between me and a well behaved son. I am still very tempted to say what it is, and it can get rather controversial if I do. So, you decipher for yourself as I am sounding pretty obvious towards the end of this post. When it comes to bringing up my child in the "right" way, I have followed almost every possible book, took the advice of more experienced mummies, Google-d parenting tips etc. I may not follow everything I hear or read to the T, but I wanted consistency . So, I made the hubs (and most people around me for that matter) follow my rules and nothing else. I get cross when family members do the exact opposite, and worst,  blame my son for his actions, which can definitely be managed properly by an adult. Maybe just let me defend myself here. I am not one that insists my son cannot walk in the park barefooted, nor mess the house up or run arou

Since J turned one, feedback of him hitting his friends and teachers became more frequent. He does not hit us at home, but his quick temper and occasional tantrums were not uncommon. Rightly pointed out by his teachers, frequency of such behavior has increased after he became a year old. Well, it bothers me... a lot! It is like the terrible twos came earlier than expected. And of course, it bothers me more that I cannot be around him guiding him along. Granted he is at the stage where he is more aware of what goes on around him, his curiosity leads him to do things that usually gets him into trouble. Remove him from danger, he screams and wails. Take things away from him, be prepared to face the fury of the dragon. His lack of patience is what usually causes the whole slew of tantrums and tears. While some may say, this will pass as he is only a year old, we want to actively do something to nurture, teach J the right things and tame the dragon if i may add. I sometimes won

On the day a group of us decided to each do a post on our lives as FTWM (that's Full Time Working Mom in case you are wondering), I was close to tears at my desk.  It was already 5pm and the prospect of me NOT taking work home for the 4th time in the week was bleak.  The very same evening, J's IFC teacher asked me whether I was expecting my number 2 because J's recent behaviour in school suggested he may be slightly neglected or may need to share the attention he is getting from us with another. My heart broke.  Last night, J refused to let me feed him...he screamed when I came close to him and threw a hissy fit. On the other hand, he sat quietly and allowed my mil to feed him. I felt helpless.  These, and many other instances, make me question myself time and again if I am not doing enough to love and nurture this precious gift. There were times when I felt angry with myself for not being there for J. The time he first started to crawl, the time he f