Wednesday 30 January 2013

Nigel and Donovan

Their names are Nigel and Donovan.  They are 13 and 7 respectively.  Now they are gone and their parents' hearts will never be whole again.

The part that made me cry on and off today is that Nigel fetched Donovan from a school activity because Nigel wanted his mother to rest before her shift work started at McDonald's.  Nigel loved his mother, and he loved his brother.

There is a poignant saying in Cantonese - the white-haired person should not have to send off the black-haired person = parents should not have to mourn their children.  It goes against the natural order of life.....

6.9 million and 11,933 (2007 figures)

I am thinking about numbers today.

The headline figure for the projected future population of Singapore is 6.9 million.  Might as well call it 7 million of anyone who has even read a bit about how consumer behaviour is driven by a detergent that costs $6.99 versus $7.00.
Without reading the rest of the Population White Paper that the SG government has put out, 7 million seems like a LOT of people on my little red dot of an island.

In the light of the recent SGD 2billion parenthood incentive package, there is another figure that I ask you to consider: 11,933 (2007 figures).  This represents the number of abortions in Singapore.
Compare this to the ~30,000 births that Singapore had in 2011.

All of us have different views in the pro-life vs pro-choice debate. 
Corrinne May, a Singaporean song writer based in Los Angeles, USA, started a discussion thread linking the 6.9 million and 11,933.  Her graceful and lucid replies leave me amazed.......

Look for "Corrinne May" on Facebook.  Her status that triggered the debate was

"If the Singapore government is looking at increasing the population of Singapore and increasing the dismal birthrate, they should take a good look at the abortion laws in Singapore.

In 2007, The Singapore Health Ministry recorded 11,933 a...bortions. That's 11,933 babies that Singapore could have had. The irony is that only Singaporeans or PRs can have an abortion in Singapore. Foreigners are not allowed to do so.

And I still can't believe that parental consent is not required for minors to have an abortion. The irony is that parental consent is required for BCG vaccinations in primary school, but a 12 year old doesn't need one for an abortion, which carries so many more health risks?

Abortion was legalized in Singapore in 1970. Prior to that it was a criminal offence. That change in the law unfortunately went hand in hand with Singapore's population control policies of the 70's, and my generation remembers the slogan often touted in the media at that time, ie. "Two is Enough".

Now the situation is drastically different and Singapore desperately needs more babies. We should look at ways to help more women keep their unborn babies and not abort them. Since Singaporeans often pick up new habits through educational campaigns (think of the 'courtesy campaign' for eg., and the 'please flush the loo' campaign) There needs to be some educational directive that helps women understand how precious every life is. And I'm not kidding when I say that we should start an 'Every Baby is Precious' campaign."

Tuesday 29 January 2013

2 sets of Grandparents + 2 children = headache

Before marriage, there is an understanding between the Husband and myself that the marriage contains only 2 of us plus any children that result from our love for each other.  As the boys came along one after the other in quick succession, I realize that both pairs of grandparents have markedly different opinions on education, schooling, morals, chores and how children should behave in general.  From my personal observations and the stories I hear amongst friends, this is a common problem amongst married couples nearing the 5-7 year stage, or when the eldest child is 2-3 years away from primary school education.
Suddenly my marriage seems a tad crowded....
What then to do?  There is no magic answer to wave away this problem.  A healthy dose of imagination to put yourself in the shoes of the other set of grandparents… to understand where they are coming from… and a belief that they truly love and want the best (however that is defined) for the grandchildren, go a long way.
But…. Why is my man so dense in this area?  I am struggling to figure out whether it is just him, or common to all mankind.

Friday 25 January 2013

The wheels of the bus go round and round

Medium Boy had a cut on his big toe last night.

"Mama, I dun wanna go to school tomorrow" was his plaintive plea as we laid our heads on the pillow to sleep.

I told him that things will look better in the morning, and let's see how his toe is faring when he wakes up tomorrow.

After a few tosses, he stuck his head into my face and said "Mama, I dun want to go to Chinese school too!"  [I send him to Berries class to learn some Chinese from 5pm to 645pm every Friday]

Today I called aunt and asked if there was any fuss at all going to Chinese class.  Turns out that Medium Boy WANTED to go because he got to be on the bus for a bus ride.  Gah!  All my mommy reasoning and bribing (last week, it took a chocolate bar....) and all it took was a BUS RIDE!!!!

Ah but I am thinking from my own point of view.  A bus ride is a truly exciting treat for a 4-going-on-5 little boy whose privileged life has been spent being ferried in the car by Papa and Mama Transport Company.  I must learn to think like he does.....

No more "death by powerpoint"

I have attended many presentations in my work.  Uninspiring presentations are so common that there is even a term for it: death (not literally, in the sense of being bored to death) by powerpoint.  Sigh.

A work colleague in the new department forwarded "Presentation Secrets of Steve Jobs" to me.

I found the 3 "Acts" immensely helpful and the theory of "90 hours for 30 slides" shocking!

2 other presenters I admire are Carly Fiorina during her tenure as HP CEO, and .... (this one is a shocker, even for myself... I gleaned this tip from sitting next to a very powerful woman at dinner, a woman who once headed the upstream exploration department of the Indonesian National Oil Company)... ahem, Angelina Jolie when she is talking about her UNICEF humanitarian work.

Wednesday 23 January 2013

A Life of Meaning

A friend of mine posted this article on facebook from the online news aggregator thealtantic.com titled “There’s more to life than being happy”.  Intrigued by the title, I clicked on the link and kept on reading…
Three points jumped out at me as I read.
1)      “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing," Frankl wrote in Man's Search for Meaning, "the last of the human freedoms -- to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way." I anchor this into my own religious faith, that God gave humans free will to choose AND the intellect to think, to question and to come to a conclusion.

2)      How does the happy life and meaningful life differ?  Happy people get a lot of joy from receiving benefits from others while people leading meaningful lives get a lot of joy from giving to others.  I volunteer; I have a job I work hard at; I am married; I have 2 children.  All these activities do not make sense from the happiness perspective (I would be much happier exercising, or watching CSI on TV) but they totally make sense from the meaningful-life point of view.

3)      The pursuit of meaning is what makes humans uniquely human.


Yesterday, I went for tea with some new friends, and one of them asked me casually (in response to the SG government’s SGD2billion stimulus to boost fertility rates http://www.channelnewsasia.com/stories/singaporelocalnews/view/1249234/1/.html)

“Celine, are you going to have a third child?”

I have assessed and determined for myself that there is mental space for only Medium Boy and Small Boy in my life, given that I still want to work (and be good at my job), have space and time for hobbies and generally having more vivid strong moments. 

Here’s to a more meaningful life in 2013!

… Ha!  I do have a new year resolution after all…

Tuesday 22 January 2013

Papa is not driving a Ferrari anytime soon

This is a conversation that Medium Boy had with the Husband one evening as the Husband was putting away his collection of Ferrari toy cars bought during Shell petrol promotions.

Hb: when you grow up, will you buy Papa a Ferrari to drive in?

(Between the Husband and myself, we joke that Medium Boy is likely to end up as an engineer or scientist of some sort... Hey, he might be the Director of technical development for Ferrari on the F1 track... Husband figured that MB is never gonna be an F1 driver with his 2 left feet... The same 2 left feet I have! :p)

MB: (looks at the Ferrari cars and at his Papa) NOOOooooo Papa, you are too big to fit in!!!

Hb: (laughs and puts on a mock indignant look) Are you saying Papa is too fat?!?!

Monday 21 January 2013

Being Different

Singapore has a majority ethnic Chinese population.  I grew up in a family which is predominantly female.  Throughout my life, I have been in the majority as a Chinese in Singapore, and as a female within my own family.  I lived in a sea of ignorance about the subtle and overt discrimination a minority faces.
The first shock I had to being treated as a minority was when I was walking along Melbourne streets in 2002.  I was studying together there.  That winter evening in May, the streets were dark at 8pm on a Friday.  I was walking back to my rented apartment from the pub with another Singaporean Chinese lady when a car full of teenage white males drove by, tossed a beer bottle at us and shouted “Go back to where you belong, chink!”  That was the first time ever in my life I had been called a name based on my race.  Mind you, this is a very mild incident compared to what others have encountered based on race.

The second shock was when I joined the Company.  The archetype in the Company is an ESTJ white able-bodied heterosexual male.  That meant that the INFP Asian able-bodied hetereosexual female like me is different from the majority on 2 counts that is visible on first sight – gender and race/ethnicity.  Suddenly I am no longer just an individual.  Everything I did or said was filtered through the lens of gender and race…. The feeling of somehow representing women or Chinese/Singaporean is stifling.  I find that I watch myself in the presence of a white male. 
The Company had a very senior Asian man C based in Singapore 2 steps below the CEO.  C was the highest ranked Asian ever to climb to that height on the corporate ladder.  2 years ago, he quit and is now the CEO of a Singaporean MNC.  The grapevine had it that another white male was slated to take over C’s boss’ job, and really there is no point to sticking around if C was not going to take his boss’ position, isn’t it?  Well the grapevine was correct…. 1 Jan 2013, another white male did ascend to the CEO minus 1 level.  I guess being the token Asian at that level got to C …..
The Company recognizes that diversity and inclusiveness is important.  To tap into a wider customer base and to retain talented people.  Policies are in mind to remove overt discrimination.  We are sent for diversity training like thisOne of my white male ex-bosses is a homosexual.  He took pains to hide his family photos away….. because he was not sure how that part of his life is accepted. 
Being different means that one carries the burden of representing that minority in words and actions….. and is not free to be an individual in his own right.

Coming back to Singapore.  Social media has led to the proliferation of ugliness that used to be said only within 4 walls come out to roost.  Amy Cheong incident.  Sun Wu incident.  I have a Malay friend on Facebook whom I am acquainted with because her daughter is born in the same month as Small Boy.  She used to be a teacher at Rulang Primary before she left the job to became a SAHM.  When a girl with a Malay name from Rulang Primary topped the 2011 PSLE, she posted a status update “Congrats to XXX! You deserve it from all the hard work”.  One of the comments from her Malay friend was …. “now the yellow skinned people are surprised”.  Yes racism exists in Singapore.  It is only because I am Chinese that I do not feel its sting. 

No more tears

I was in Malacca for a work related trip Thursday and Friday.  Rushed to get a couple of things done from Monday to Wednesday, working EU hours.  However the boys’ 830am to 1130am school day still meant getting up at 7am to prepare them for school.  The work of a mom doesn’t have regular office hours.

From the previous Sunday evening 13 Jan, I started to psycho the boys.  They had been crying when dropped off the previous week (7-11 Jan, oh tis ONLY their 2nd week of school in the new place….. hmm…).  I asked both boys, are you gonna cry tomorrow morning.
Medium Boy:  YES Mama, because you take such a long time to park the car, and you NEVER come back.
Small Boy: NO.  [haha, victory for Mama]  [Yes, Small Boy is a little boy of few words]
I continued the next morning before we all set off for school.  I told MB that if he wanted to cry, he should cry when he is at home and I am around to sayang him.  He looked bewildered…. While he acknowledged the logic of my statement, I can almost see the thought bubble above his puzzled face “Cry for what?  Mama is still around…..” :P
The crying ceased last Monday.  I waited with bated breath for Tuesday and Wednesday to come around, repeating my script to them.  Then left for my work trip on Thursday morning…. The Husband whatsapp me that both boys are fine both mornings.  No crying.
My new mommy mantra is "if you cannot convince them, confuse them".  Hahahhahaha!

This morning, both boys happily waved bye bye at me and walked into school by themselves, from my hands into the teacher’s hands.  I am extremely proud of them, my 2 brave boys.
Just like the time both were vaccinated at Dr B’s.  Both did not yell or cry or shed any tears.  The gummy bears must have helped too.  *grin *

Tuesday 15 January 2013

Girls and Boys

Medium Boy is discovering the difference between girls and boys.
Last night after he did his I-dun-wanna-go-to-school spiel again, (he wanted to be with me! the whole day! *melt and shudder at the same time*) he told me that his ex classmate H at the old school said “Girls are different.  They are shorter than boys”.
Oh by the way, H is a girl.
Since we are on the topic of boys and girls…. Hmmm…. Will Medium Boy be embarrassed when he reads this in my blog later?  Never mind, I shall blog it anyway.  Hehe.
One day, he came out from the bathroom stark naked, then proceeded to tuck away what is between his legs further back … erhmm… into his thighs.  Then proclaimed “Mama, look!  Now I am a girl!”
I did not know whether to laugh or faint on the spot then.  In the end…. BWAHHAHHHAHHHHAHAHA.

Thursday 10 January 2013

New Year Resolutions (the lack of)

I do not make new year resolutions.  Instead I strive to grow daily in the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual aspects of my life.  Every day is after all a new day, no?  Why only choose 1 Jan to make each day better?
The usual new year resolutions of exercising, reading/reflecting, managing my own emotions and seeking connection to the divine… these are higher order human needs that need daily small steps.  After I have been clothed and fed.  My lower order needs are met.  Thanks for the blessing, God.

A Global Job aint all that glamourous

I have a global job.  My current boss is based in Istanbul, Turkey.  Her boss is based in Budapest, Hungary.  The boss above the Hungarian is based in Houston, Texas.  All of us are nationals of the countries we are based in, which seems to be a given… but in the Company, it is often not.  In my larger team, the work colleague who sits next to me in the Singapore office is a Thai based in Singapore.
There has been a work project I am spearheading… My IT counterpart is based in London, UK.  The first 3 weeks in January 2013 are crunch time, with the Hungarian due to sign off on the project by 25 Jan.  I have spent Monday night and Tuesday night on the phone from 1030pm to midnight explaining and giving input with the IT guy in London.  Else the defects raised in testing just do not move!  There are 2 touch points during the European work day, one at 930am London time (530pm SG time) and 230pm London time (1030pm SG time).
Last night I was also due to be on the phone at 1030pm.  However I felt myself sniffling and falling sick, so told the IT guy during our 530pm SG time call that I might not be able to make it to the EU afternoon call.  I had the luxury of sleeping from 10pm to 6am this morning.  I would have slept even later if not for my work phone ringing at 6am… I answered it at 615am when the caller persisted for the 5th time.  It was a wrong number.  A male voice spoke in Chinese asking me to come to the door… he started on his spiel even before I had said my first word into the phone.  I told him in Chinese (rather calmly, I must add, at that unearthly hour in the morning) “Neighbour, this is a wrong number.  You have woken me up at 6am in the morning.  Please do not call anymore.”
I hope he got to whoever he was trying to get to.  Sounded like someone arranged for transport, then promptly overslept and forgot to come to the door.  Oh, the tales I can spin from this wrong number at 6am!!!

Back to the job.  A global job in a Euro-centric company requires that I sleep late to be on the phone.  When I had interactions with the Americans in Aug/Sep, I woke up at 430am to take 5am calls.  Some things just do not come across well on email.  If you need quick action, a phone call to explain is best.  It cuts out the non-value-adding elapsed time in getting things done.

I made sure that the Hungarian boss’ boss Z knew I shifted my working hours this week to accommodate the project completion.  Another project overseer (M the Bulgarian based in Austria) floated the idea past Z that I should fly to London next week… I said in that phone call – M, you need to fly to Singapore then to take care of my boys.  I have known M since my first role in the Company 8 years ago, hence I talk to him this way.  Our paths cross again in this project… which lends credence to how I behave at work… Be on good terms with EVERYONE in the Company, one day, they might be your teammate or boss…  
Z intervened and said that both from a cost and work-life balance perspective, it made more sense for one of my Europe teammates to work with the IT guy in London.  PHEW.  I detest travelling away from my boys, especially at short notice and on an intercontinental flight.  The single me 6 years ago would have said, hooray, bring on the travel… I have different priorities now.

In short, a global job wrecks havoc on my work-life balance.  3pm to 6pm every day is spent catching up with my Chennai and Europe-based teammates.  I cannot schedule anything on Thu evenings as there is a weekly team call.  My evenings are committed at short notice to work calls.  I am glad that the next role is a regional East role, not a global role.

Wednesday 9 January 2013

House cleaning the mind

Did the boys do anything differently from Monday? No, they are still screaming and crying at the school gate, today and yesterday as on Monday.
Am I doing anything differently?  Yes, I have decided that I Shall Be A Zen Momma.

Hence the heart clenching stopped yesterday.  Any pangs today?  Well, maybe a teeny tiny one as I turned tail and left for home.  I keep my eyes on the long term goal. 
Note to self: look up and see the sky, dear.  This moment too shall pass, as every single moment does.  In the mean time, appreciate the beauty of the clouds.  They change every single day. 

In this mood, I should write in Chinese, the language of my heart.  I haven't quite figured out how to input Chinese characters yet :P

Monday 7 January 2013

Monday school melt down

This is me sneaking into my blog during housework time to update..... :P

I expected either of the boys to melt down when they had to go to school again after 2 days' break over the weekend.... but my mommy's heart still clenched when Small Boy started to yell in earnest

"I DUN WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL! I DUN WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL! I WANT TO STAY IN THE CAR!"

when I unbuckled his seat belt this morning.

Part of me is amazed that he is -that- articulate when under pressure.

Small Boy refused to take off his shoes, then refused to enter the school, and arched his body to cling onto the door when I scooped him in.  Medium Boy stared agog at me and the Teachers.  He was watching to see what the adults do.
Senior Teacher D whispered to me "Better for you to go...."  so trusting them to do what they do best, I turned tail and left.... (hard hearted mommy).

I called the school a moment ago.  Small Boy threw his tantrum for 15 minutes, then stopped, and is joining into Chinese song singing now.  Medium Boy is now upstairs with his peers.  He still resists Chinese class, but slowly slowly.... one step at a time.

Now I need to go, hang the laundry while the sun shines!

Saturday 5 January 2013

First school bus trip

I asked Medium Boy on Thursday night - are you ready to take the school bus tomorrow? (From school to aunt's place) Both boys met the kindly school bus uncle and auntie on Thursday morning. Medium Boy likes the uncle's kind face.  Hence he agreed to try out the school bus on Friday.

I raced down from morning chores to get to their school by 1130am so that I could personally escort them onto the bus.  Then drove to aunt's place to receive them.

Medium Boy bounded off the bus and immediately gave his CNN news report.

"You know mama... Didi was looking for you for the bus just now. He couldn't find you so he cried. Yes he did, until Auntie sat next to him. (Pause for breath)
The school bus has seat belts, Mama. Didi couldn't buckle so I buckled it for him!"

I looked into the back of the bus for Small Boy. His shoulders were hunched forward; his eyes were red with tears. Immediately I gathered Small Boy into my arms for a hug and kiss.

He saw me, said one word "Mama!" And leaped into my embrace.  My poor little one! I had forgotten completely to tell him about the school bus!  Sorry Small Boy, Mama shall remember to brief both you and kor kor next time...

Thursday 3 January 2013

New School

Today is the second day in the new school for both boys.  There has been some problem with the domestic helper coming home (she was due back on 2 Jan originally, now revised to 8 Jan) so I have been reacquainting myself with the nooks and crannies of the home.
Medium Boy had attended his previous child care since Mar 2010.  2 years 10 months in that school.  Wow, that’s more than the gestational period of 3 babies.  Last night this is how our conversation went.
MB: Mama, I want to go back to my old school.  I do not like the new school.
Me: Why dear?
MB:  I just dun.
Me: Give the new school a chance.  Let’s try again tomorrow ok.  Mama will be with you and didi anyway.
MB (pregnant pause): I dun wanna go to school anymore!  I wanna stay at home! Hmmph!  [turns his back to me]
:\
Yes I know this is an expected response.  Yes I know he misses his old school, his old teachers, his old classmates with whom he races toy cars with everyday before lunch.  Yes I know all that, and my heart still clenches with the pain of change on his behalf…

Small Boy has never been to school.  We kept him away from school as he was allergic to eggs to the extent that his allergy flared up whenever I ate eggs (yep, the triggering protein made its way through my milk) or any food that had a trace of egg inside.   Yesterday was a new beginning for him.  
He is attracted to the water pouring activities in the new school and also to the painting easel.  Today and yesterday, he has stood behind another child waiting his turn at the easel.  He loves playing with colours, Small Boy does.

May they settle down in school quickly.... I am on AM half day leave this week to ease their transition.