Category Archives: life skills

Life skills

Tina Fey’s prayer for her daughter

Fellow dad Sheldon Goh shared this on twitter, and thought I had to share it too. This is so apt for all parents :)

Tina Fey’s prayer for her daughter

First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her
When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels.

What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.

“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.

Source: Bossypants

Am I doing the right thing for my kids?

It’s no real secret that I am here in Melbourne as the first step in our overall plan to relocate here.

I have studied, lived and worked in Australia before. I grew up in Malaysia, and spent my developing late-teen years here.

In individualistic ways, I am a minority. Having obtained secondary and tertiary education here and having worked on both shores put me a unique position- of outlook, experience, cultural and language backgrounds. These are perhaps the qualities that past immigration policies stressed on when they look at multicultural policies and also during attempts to address the skills shortage and its ageing population, in the competitive (now comparative?) global markets.

But I am not getting into politics here.

I can therefore speak a few languages and Chinese dialects as a result- I always tell people that one of the “given” advantages of an ethnic Chinese growing up in an Asian city is that one would automatically pick up at least one dialect. In KL it is the widely spoken Cantonese, Penang would be the local flavour of Hokkien, Malacca would be Mandarin, etc., without actually needing to attend a vernacular school (but which I did- thanks mum :) In Singapore ethnic kids are required to also take on their respective mother-tongue as a language subject, on top of English.

But as you have rightly guessed, I am now wondering what my children will be like when they are growing up here, eventually.

In a lot of ways, I don’t want them to be “typical”. Not using myself as a model, I do wish for them to be upstanding unique citizens. I know all parents want these for their kids too, but if you take me and HM in this context- we are different in the local context; and I am looking at this in an optimistic light.

But what about the kids? They are still young, and will still be when they move here and be just another “product” of the local system.

Of course, this is almost-literally two sides of the same coin: They too would be a product of that system over there.

So then we come back to the original question: Am I doing the right thing for the kids? Am I doing this for selfish reasons of my own preference for wanting to live here, and thus “dragging” them along without the maturity and knowledge to offer their own opinions and preference too?

At this stage I can only offer that what will shape them to be un-typical would be our methods and values in raising them in the local environment. Yes I am generalising here, but I would wonder how many (“young”? ;) parents out there have the kinds of background that HM and I have? A few, but not many, I would think.

And if I sound arrogant, I am not. I am looking out for my kids given what tools I have for this job.

Will the gifts be cherished?

You are walking around window shopping and you see something you like.

And you thought Hmm I think my kid will like it too.

So you buy it. You bring it home to your kid(s). You give it to them. They go “WAAaah! Thank you Daddee” and proceed to play with it not the way you’d like it to be!

I have had toys, stationaries, cards, even my own toys, not played with “properly” (“properly” in this context is of course relative. What’s a little crashing of the remote helicopter, dirtying of a pair of perfectly white shoes, pressing too hard of the new colour pencils, or even creasing of a nicely made origami??)

I have come to accept that, however much you like the item yourself, and thought your kids might like it too, you have to “surrender” to the fact that they may not think the items is as great as you do, and not cherish or look after it as well as you might yourself!

I have seen the gifts that my parents bring for them after their trip overseas. My mum has bought Caitlin kiddie handbags before. Not that Caitlin trashes them- she does use them and store things in them and carry them around. But after a while, new broom sweeps clean, something new and better comes along and she forgets about this new item.

After giving this some thought, I should make it a point to highlight to them the effort that people have taken, to pick out the gift after giving the kids some consideration (that people are thoughtful of them), the money involved in buying it, and the whole idea of not wasting things.

.. Cos I have just bought them something too ;)

School and bullies, just saying.

So the time will come when my 2 kids will be moving to Australia too- starting at a new school, and starting school, respectively.

Especially for Caitlin, she will have to readjust to another new school, after having completed the last 3 years in pre-school to start primary schooling this past January- at a new school, new friends, new syllabus- new everything. When she comes, she will be the new kid in an environment where her peers are no longer unfamiliar like newbies anymore.

I just hope that that will be the only thing she will have to cope with.

I recall during my first year in boarding school in Australia, albeit I was already 15; there was a senior who was, for some reason, watering the lawn outside the dorm. I was walking in his direction to go in. He thought it was funny to raise and aim the hose at me. All I could do was shout “STOP IT”. Through the spray I think I saw him laughing. It didn’t last long- he decided to stop. I didn’t know what to do, could do. I just continued on my way.

There was another time when a girl-classmate did the slanty-eyed thing on her temples and thought it was funny uttering “Look I can’t see through my eyes” to the other schoolmates; who didn’t think it was funny. I Just ignored her. I think she got expelled- she was of that character anyway.

Incidentally, a year after that, a genuine friend actually asked me how I really do see through these eyes! I appreciated his honesty, but I guess he needed a(nother) lesson in eye physiology and the physics of light :) I don’t think I have small eyes anyway!

So when my kids come, I just hope that adjusting to the new school will be all they need to worry about. I would tend to think that between my time in the mid-80′s to now, kids today are more “multi-cultured” and that if any bullying it wouldn’t be race-based.

That they would only need to find out things that are idiosyncratic to that school. Hmm I used a big word correctly.

It’s quite cool that local schools are starting programs such as this. This article reminded me of what Annie Fox has been writing about bullying. We are not affiliated; I follow her on twitter because she talks about parenting on a professional basis.

I think programs like this is also double-edged in that they probably make a leader out of the older child. The whole “taking care of the new/weak(?)”

Just saying.

A dog in the family..

So I was watching Marley and Me which was on TV tonight.

I hadn’t watched it before, and it was already running when I got out of the shower. SPOILER WARNING: I am going to talk about the ending of the movie below.

I have kinda always had a dog in my life. When my older brother did well in his mid-high school exams, our dad honoured his promise of a reward with an Alsation pup. I would have been around 8 then.

He was a great dog. I gotta admit we weren’t the most “mature” in our methods of disciplining him, but we did give him a home, played with him, trained him. In return he was obedient and loyal. The only time he wasn’t obedient was when he needed to satisfy urges to run out of the house compound, and needed lots of coaxing to come home. I believe there was even once when he went out without our knowledge, and was found waiting outside our gate; presumably all satisfied with his outing and thought it was time to go home :)

He was eventually put down. He was about 13 years old, which means he would have been 90 dog-years old. He was just too weak physically as well as with his immunity, and started to develop some skin and ear problems.

It was my brother and I who brought him to the vet. We weren’t strangers to the vet; been taking him there for similar problems already. The vet had told us off a few times of “neglect”, but he also knew that dogs of this breed would be hard to maintain in the tropical climate.

That last visit, when we brought him in, the vet’s tone changed when we agreed that perhaps it was time.

Dog lovers all in the room.

The scene in Marley and Me was very similar. My brother and I just held Alley as he slowly slipped away. I recall I was patting him, uttering “it’s okay” quietly. Stroking his still fluffy mane, comforting him. He had never liked the vet or the clinic, and would put up a fight when the vet came near. He was putting up a fight again when the vet gave the dose, but the fight slowly slipped away too. I hoped he heard my last words too.

The car ride home with my brother was just silence.

I am writing this because of an immediately earlier scene in the movie.

The kids in the movie was saying goodbye to Marley at home, just before he was taken to the vet; when everyone kinda already knew he wouldn’t be returning.

I am writing this because where I am now (alone away from home in a friend’s house) they have a dog; probably not that much smaller than Marley. Harley is a black dog, similar line of the labradors. My friends got him from a pound when he would have been about around 2 years old. They are not sure of his breed either.

In watching that goodbye-at-home scene, I found myself wondering what it would be like if my own family had a dog. The kids would be about the same ages even though I only have two. I believe the kids would grow to love the dog like I did Alley, and would have assumed the dog to (almost) be part of the family. And, how they would react when the dog was dying.

Or how to handle impending death.

This same older brother of mine had/have other dogs since Alley. Shadow, a doberman (by choice due to a shorter coat!) was hit by a car a few years ago, and had to be put down too. Shadow was in his prime; a champion-of-the-class dog who was also of very good temperament. I had followed my older brother to a few of their obedient classes, and had watched him graduate as champ of the class. I recall I was at my inlaws’ having dinner, and broke down when my brother called to tell me the news.

His kids were pretty distraught too.

They now have another doberman, Kaiser, and a beagle Yoshi. Similarly I had followed Kaiser to dog classes; and rest assured we now know how to handle dogs “maturely”, so Kaiser also responds to my calls. My kids see how friendly I am with the dogs, and vice versa. If it weren’t for Hot Mummee around, I would let the kids interact more than just touch their noses. Caleb is the braver of my two kids, venturing to stroke the big black menacing looking dog.

I don’t know if I will eventually also have a dog in my family. I know I wouldn’t let him into the house, but at least whether I’d have one. I know the kids would be inclined to one, just a matter of whether HM would also be okay with it.

Nah, she won’t.

Kaiser the 2nd champion doberman

Yoshi the not-so-trained yapper!

Photos taken from my brother’s collection.

Everyone should learn how to drive manual first

Not that I don’t appreciate Grandma buying Caitlin her first wrist watch.

After all, it is about time she learns how to manage her own time and implications of otherwise. I have already gotten her a desk clock which she out-of-blue asked for a few weeks ago, which I gladly did. I think she saw it in some tv show and thought it’d be cool (from a 6 year old’s perspective of “cool”) to also have one of her own.

She was quite specific about it too. She insisted that it had to “be pink, have hands, and also ears”. I wasn’t sure if she had seen it in a cartoon and thus unlikely to exist in real life. So I had drawn it to be sure we had the same understanding.

We did.

It’s not exactly a very precise alarm clock; it does ring, plus/minus 20 minutes either way of the alarm setting hand! I also couldn’t find one with all the numbers of the clock, for a clock that (smallish) size.

But back to the topic at hand.

Now that she is “orientating” for standard 1, a timely opportunity for her to start getting into some kinda independence in terms of getting things done in time, and being on time.

So I didn’t disagree with Grandma getting her a wrist watch.

It is just that if it were me; and I did think it would be me, that I would get her one with hands. Admittedly we didn’t consult each other on this purchase, or even the intention of the purchase.

Led by poor example

So sometimes Caitlin would ask to buy a strip of candy, like Mentos or Sugus. She tells me that she shares them with her school friends- I believe her. No doubt she may keep one or two more for herself but I think the fact that they generally finish so quickly is some kind of proof for this daddee that she does share them ;)

Last night on a quick visit for some fresh milk I thought that a pack of Ribena sweets was okay for her. It was in a shiny packaging anyway; she didn’t miss it either. If the packaging is to be trusted it does contain vitamin C after all (or am I a marketers sucker-dream come true?)

So this morning on the way out to school and grandma’s respectively I was helping make sure that she does bring it along to school. Since the pack of 20 itself is rather large and didn’t quite fit into Caitlin’s uniform pocket, she passed it to me to carry in my shirt pocket.

Caleb saw.

That jie-jie was carrying something must be something I’d want too.

That she insisted Daddee carry it must be something I’d want too.

That is was also shiny must be something I’d want too…

“I WAAANT!”

This is where Hot Mummee’s complaints about my being biased may be justified. I didn’t want him to have one now because he’d just woken up. He hadn’t had anything to drink yet (water) let alone his morning milk- to have candy as “breakfast” or at least the first thing to eat isn’t quite an activity or habit I’d like to instil in the kids.

So what did Daddee say to discourage him?

Infront of Caitlin, I said to Caleb: “It’s medicine..”

Yikes.

She’d never questioned me at all or smirked at me. But I think I had done a bad thing. I could have said he could have one after his milk and insisted jie-jie shared one with him. But I didn’t. I could have simply said “Later” too, but I didn’t.

So now, Caitlin has learned a “skill” that I didn’t want her to know yet. She may well start applying this to other areas to fool us too, with the topic or severity growing as she does.

Oops.