Hey God, were You ever there?

When Philip was sick in hospital, balloons brought him tremendous joy. Especially when they were attached to his feet, Philip would be so entertained seeing them move as his legs moved. And because of that for every Christmas, we would hold a special tradition to remember him by getting coloured balloons and writing our messages on them and releasing them into the sky. 

The balloons got smaller as they drifted further away and it became seemingly clear that Philip was very far away from me. In fact, I used to shed a tear in the first few years when i saw how far the balloons got and thought the distance was always the most painful to deal with grieving my baby. It was only last year that I realised it was in fact not hearing from him that hurts more. 

Us at last year’s Christmas tradition

Because You were here...

Dearest Philip,

If you were here, we would be celebrating your second birthday today. I doubt it would be anything fancy, but it would be a celebration nonetheless if you are around.

After 4 kids, no one would ever believe that you were an accident. (Thanks guys 😏) Or at least no one would believe that we didn't try to conceive you. You weren't a gift Mummy was praying for, but it quickly became ironic that you were the gift Mummy prayed very hard to God to not take away. You see, as much as I was not the most enthusiastic person to find out I was pregnant with you, I struggle with the sharp pain of giving you back to God.

It's been two years and while I don't remember much about the day I had you, I realised I don't remember much about you. I was feeling all anxious a few weeks back, because I was afraid that one day you will become a stranger to me. While you are my child, I actually don't know much about you. I don't know what you like or you don't. I don't know what dreams you have or even how you will look when you lose your baby fats. I don't know what your first word would be, what your fashion style is or how even your voice sounds. I realised my child, in many ways, I don't know you. 

I recognise I had many dreams for you. I imagined that you would be a brilliant boy in school and even challenging your brothers academically. I thought you were going to be charming and all the ladies would be swoon by you. You would be like who you were named after, St Philip Neri, who would bring so much joy to the people you would meet. In fact, I always thought that you would be a priest (bishop even!), one who will be able to convince another just by looking at you. You would be such a wonderful gift, but all these my child would be what my plans and hopes for you. And because they are just my desires and plans of you... it really isn't you.

And yet despite not knowing much of you, my heart still aches and yearns for the next time we meet again. I'm sure with all the love and joy you have been getting from God in heaven, that you possibly may not be missing anything here. It's just that selfishly I wish you will not stop remembering who I am, my boy.

People often celebrate birthdays as a highlight of how much they have grown through the year. And as such, I wished my life was just like any other parent, celebrating the milestone of my child and spoiling him rotten with a special cake and presents. But this is not to be. And while you may not be physically with me today, it doesn't mean we would be sulking today. (I really doubt we will have any cake or blow any candles today though 😅)

My dear boy, your life, though short, is worth celebrating and remembering. Not just because we miss you but because we thank God for who you made us become during the short time we had together. Because of you, I have become more careful to reach out to those struggling in pain around me, to cheer them on and to support them when they needed a break. It's also because of you, I have become a better parent and catechist to your siblings in making sure that I don't lose any of them to the ways of the world. But more importantly, it is also because of you, that I was born again to believe that God really loves me. He may have seemed to have ignored me when He chose to bring you home, but truth was He has sent me many more angels to guard my heart so that I would not become cynical of the wonders of life and the excitement each day has for me. 

I have come to realise that unlike other superficial wounds, He may never allow this wound to be fully healed. Not that He was being sadistic just so to cripple me and make me lean on Him, but more importantly to push me forward to know how much more I can do and how much more I need to better live life because of my love for you.

It's been two years my boy, and while it seems this year I started the day (again) in tears, I too look forward to today. Your siblings and us have decided that we will be fasting and abstaining today. Not because we are grieving, but it was with the intention to support and carry another with our prayers and thoughts as our gift to you. (Don't worry, we will reward them to a nice dinner... it's after all your birthday 😅)

Your siblings especially your brothers may need a little help from you to get through the day, judging from the discussion as to what they can eat in school 😅. And while they think chicken should go under the category of fish, I am seriously proud of them too for wanting to do this in honour of you. Can you see what a great priest you would be if Julian, your brother, is willing to forego food for you? 

Happy birthday my dear boy. I know God must be very pleased (and busy answering the prayer intentions we will be offering) with you and your heavenly party would be well taken care of. Maybe if you want, you think you could ask God to draw us a picture of the rainbow in the sky so that we could also be part of your heavenly birthday celebrations too? 

Have a wonderful time in heaven my dear boy. 

I love you my dear, never stopped, never will. 

Eternally yours,

Mummy

Picking Up the Pieces, Picking Up my Cross

Dearest Philip,

How are you in heaven? Have you been busy testing your wings in your free time or have you been swamped with prayer requests during your "working hours"?

It's been almost a year since we last met. Despite the reasons to smile and be grateful for, there hasn't been a day when mummy stopped thinking or missing you. 

Since your passing, (other than having another baby 😅) I did many things to deal with your absence. I stayed away from big gatherings so that I didn't need to deal with pitiful or sympathetic conversations, I stayed away from babies who are similar to your age so as not to be reminded of my loss, I even locked myself in my own cocoon so that I didn't need to wear any mask to cover the rawness of the pain.

I have heard many people commenting that time will heal the pain. To that, I have learnt to just smile and keep quiet. Maybe they are right.. maybe they have experienced something in life that I have yet to learn, or maybe it's just that they are really blessed to not have lost something that mattered more than life to them. 

But the biggest struggle I had after you died ironically wasn't dealing with your absence but with my own guilt. 

I had always wondered if I had done enough for you, if I had really shown you in my capacity how much I love you. The night before your death, daddy and I even dressed ourselves up to attend a function because we didn't want to dampen the spirits of the people who were there. And even though we left 5 minutes into the start of the event, I'd always wondered if you had blamed me for not being around you more. Not many people knew this, but the reason why I never opened the casket during your wake was because the c-pap mask that you wore during the last days of your life had caused an abrasion and a dent at your nose area which I only noticed it after they removed the mask when they died. You must have been really uncomfortable during that time but I wasn't able to offer any consolation. You were left on the hospital ward for quite some time because daddy and I couldn't find your original birth certificate and because of that you couldn't be transferred to the mortuary. 

At times I read about stories of children going through the same cancer as you. Most of them don't make it but because they underwent chemotherapy and radiation, they did live longer. And I wondered too if our lives would be different if I had chosen the chemo route for you. 

I replayed your last few months in my head throughout the year and always wondered did we do enough  for you and more importantly did we tell you enough that we love you. 

The gospel today reminded me a very harsh truth what being a disciple meant - to carry my cross daily. Darling, unfortunately you will always be my cross I would need to bear till I die. When you died last year, a part of me died together with you. 

And even though you were with us for only 6 months, you truly taught me so much more than what I have learnt in my whole life. When the doctors told me about your diagnosis, it was not only the first time I actually felt any concrete pain in life, but the first time I had experienced the cross. My faith was crumbling and there were moments when I doubted the goodness of God. 

Because of you, I have learnt to understand the phrase "not my will but yours be done". On the day of your funeral, not only did I bury you, I also needed to bury my disappointments and my dreams I had for you. But I came to learn that while there was nothing wrong with my hopes and dreams, God just had a very different plan and vocation for you. And it was through you, mummy learnt to ask for strength to surrender. 

It didn't take me long to realise that nothing will ever be possible to fill the void you left behind. It's ironic, but human logic of finding something else to fill the void doesn't help in the healing. Healing ironically came when mummy decided to give away more of her heart to those around her.

Because of this pain I experienced, I have learnt to reach out to more people who are struggling with a little more humility and compassion. And each time when they opened their lives and hearts to me, that small part of my heart starts to become alive again.

I have learnt to be okay with God's choice of not healing you, because even though I am your mummy, I know that He loves you more than I do. Thank you baby, for jumpstarting my relationship with God, for teaching me in a very concrete manner how to submit to my daily cross. 

It's been one year since I last saw you... but it's also one year closer to meeting you again. So until I get my chance to hold you again, I promise you that mummy is going to live her life and laugh again. And know that every breath I take, I'll be taking one for you. 💕

Always missing you,

Mummy. 

P a few weeks before he died

Growing with Grief

It has been four months since I have made a new friend - Grief. Not that I ever welcomed her into my life, or that I asked to hang around, but she decided to make herself comfortable and stay on.

I soon got comfortable with her and somehow I realised that till the day that I die, she will be my constant companion.

Many don't realise it and tell me that with time, she will become a stranger and slowly fade away. However, those who told me so, probably have never lost a piece of their hearts before. There are both good and bad things about grief. The good, I always tell others, is that life will never get worse. The bad and saddest thing is, unfortunately, life will just go on. 

Since my last blog entry, I said that I was staying in my tomb for quite a bit.  Being in my tomb was probably like being at the bottom of the mountain, seeing and learning different views which being on the mountain top will never be able to help me see. 

1) We often credit God way tooooo much for our own good.

In the past four months, I kept hearing people commenting about how God has a better or greater plan for me. Like how He will never give me a cross way too big for me to bear. *Rolls eyes* (apparently my sarcasm did not die with Philip) 

That initially made me wonder what did I do so wrong or so right that God decided to give me such a big cross. (I mean it would be wayyyyyyyyy easier to love God if He could just reward me with a big lottery win) But it seemed that because humans need to have an explanation for everything, we console ourselves by telling us that God can't be that cruel to us. 

Or how maybe God was just doing me a favour by saving me a greater heartache and taking Philip to a better place now. (Of which I smiled and decide to walk away)

Unfortunately, I didn't do anything right (or wrong) to have what I got. It was all the while going to be my life. God didn't give me the cross. He did however allow it to happen and with it He gave me the right people to journey with and watch out for me. The right enough raw ingredients of hope, faith and grace to recognise that there is something to look forward to even if I were to die tomorrow. (Which obviously I hope I don't) And from those raw ingredients, hopefully it will grow and become a testimony that He had never abandoned me. 

2) Grief was never meant to imprison a soul

I shared with some friends whom I still meet up with that "Call me if you need me" is probably one of the worst lines I would want to hear in times of grief from a friend. Not many realise that the person whom they say it to hardly use that "call me" card. 

Many friends thought I needed time and left me alone. I don't blame them for personally death isn't something many are comfortable to deal with. The unfortunate thing was, not many realised that I didn't need time alone or to be left alone... I needed them. Unfortunately, being in your own tomb, causes one to look inward, at one's pain, one's misery and just at oneself.

I became selfish and excused myself from many of the gatherings they have organised. Afterall, I thought whether I appeared or not, the gathering would still happen, so why should I go? The gathering seemed to fulfill their need of void of boredom rather than comforting me in my loss. 

Yet, I learnt that the purpose of grief wasn't to highlight the unfairness of life, but to emphasize the importance of joy. It does seem ironic, but people seem to appreciate the gift of joy more when it comes from someone who would be filled with pain. It was as if many aspired to want to be joyful than be cynical. 

Just like because of Easter and Good Friday, we can appreciate the gift of Christmas (cuz if not, it's just another baby's birthday?) And so with pain, one learns the magic of joy. 

3) Life is better when you don't need answers

After Philip died, I wondered if I had done enough. The memories of having him in my arms broke my heart, but the "what ifs" I had killed me. "What if we decided to do chemotherapy?", "What if we started treatment earlier" or "What if he was around still?". These questions get worse when you grief somehow. 

Till now, I can't tell you why Philip was given to me only for 6 months. I can't tell you also why God decided to allow one to go through disasters or any calamity. And for the rest of my life, I would probably be pondering on that just like how Mary did till the day she died. She who survived through the death of her spouse and son would probably wonder what did she say yes to. She was afterall (just) doing God's work and she got everything seemingly against her. 

But her doubts, questions and heartaches never made her think twice in who she believed in. And the sooner one realises that one can never answer (and not need to answer) all the questions in life, the sooner you will be able to appreciate life and its surprises better. 

Letting God be God was one of the hardest thing I learnt in 2019. It probably gets harder as we age because we start to attach job scopes and images to what God has to be in order to be "God". But we forget that we are not God and everything is a gift. All my life I have been taught to pray and get what I want, but now a wise priest has told me to start wanting what I got.

I learnt though that what He has taken will never be greater than what He will give. So be comforted that He is a wayyyyyy better God than the one we have in mind.

Image from relationadvisors.com

Yikes! Change is about to happen!

Just one more sleep and what I am used to for the past 3 years will all be changed. Like many, I'd always thought that since I've been through it so many times, everything would be under control and honestly this would be child's play for me. After all, the whole process remains the same - wake up early, go for breakfast, relax a little, check into hospital, prep for surgery and get heavily sedated and when I wake up in 1hrs time, I get myself a new baby. (Like honestly, how complicated can life be? *tsk*)

But strangely, I'm not sure if I can say I was most confident this time. It could be the fear for the post surgery recovery, because I know how painful it can be. Or maybe I was from 2 helpers to down with no helper at all until yesterday when the replacement helper came and hopefully the other one comes back later today (yes on the day when I deliver). It could be also because just a few days ago I was down with flu and am probably still struggling with a little stomach flu. Or it could be maybe from the anxiety that my youngest girl will no more be the baby of the family already and I'm pushing her to grow up to be a sister (yes I still get the guilty feeling even after so many kids!). Or that maybe the mister is down with flu STILL (and that's how I fall sick) and on the night before I deliver I'm spending some time alone doing my reflection, rather than a movie night and quiet time with the mister.

Yup... as you can see things haven't been going as planned. And the irony? This pregnancy is the one which I had prayed the hardest, go church more often and had a lot more people praying for me than the other pregnancies. Should I not have prayed? Could it be an easier and smoother journey? Shouldn't prayer help in easing one's fear? What went wrong?

Unfortunately, truth of the matter is, just because I prayed harder it didn't mean that I had the trump card of being God and get to do things according to my plan or my choice. The Evil one would use every opportunity to tell and tempt me to be angry with God and to stop praying cuz obviously it hasn't been providing much consolation or so it seems. The Holy Spirit on the other hand continues to ask me to be patient and tells me it's not about me but to be faithful and just say Yes to being loved and carried by God.

Back at Home...

Feeling so overwhelmed, I actually went to the adoration room after dinner yesterday and just sat in front of the Holy Eucharist to pour out all my anxieties and somehow started to cry. (hormones maybe) I didn't realize one can be so close to God and yet so fearful at the same time. But the best thing about crying is that God knows too that I've reached my limit and He will take over from here since there is no more resistance from me to try to be in control and stay in charge. The Evil one also knows that there's no point in trying to be around because the harder he tries to be funny, the harder I will pray and that's really not what he wants too.

God's peace comes after every storm and it strangely doesn't need to make any grand entrance. Truth be told, God was present throughout the whole pregnancy. Like how my helper situation could be a mess but at least He sent me a great replacement which seems to be able to hold the fort for the time being, plus my mum was around to help me here and there with the kids so I could rest and nurse my flu. I may not have gotten many things my way, but because of this, many have used this as a reason to pray and found inspiration to be close to Him. To help with post surgery recovery, He's blessed me with a masseur who is able to come right after my surgery to help me feel better faster. And because He knows I've been anxious, He's been getting many guardian angels to send me personal love messages and prayers along the way to cheer me up and encourage me.

And even though I pray that He could give me a miraculously painless birth, I forget that the more I look at myself, the more I forget that He is the same God that managed to feed thousands with just 5 loaves and 2 fishes, heal the blind and sick and even raise the dead... He IS so mighty and all I could do was just to limit Him to my fears and plans. If God had really been given the control of my life, how much greater can it be? The opposite of fear is not exactly courage, it's just stop saying No to God.

Trust me, it's not a bad feeling. And so I say to you.... Peace be with You. :)

Disciplining with Faith

In my social media posts, I tend to pick the happier pictures of the family... because
1. it's social media (and it's 90% fake news or at least it only shows a glimpse of what happens 10% of the day) and
2. who even has the mood to pose and take photos when things are bad *tsk*

One of our favorite activities together

Yet amidst the laughter, we have our struggles with our kids. The toughest part of parenting for me, isn't the pregnancy, recovery and breastfeeding (I speak from experience), sitting down and studying with them (it's still painful though), dealing with their tantrums in public (thank God for thick skin) or even dealing with the different styles of raising your kids with your spouse or in laws (no explanation needed). The worse for me is really when one needs to exert discernment in discipling.

You see, disciplining can result in many things... you can have really great outcomes where they listen to you (and we all live happily ever after), when they don't agree with you and defy you (and you don't know what goes on inside their minds) or when you are not even confident if you did the right thing even. So as you can see the majority of disciplining (for me) ends with something... negative, which means chances are after a disciplining session, I might
(a) lose my temper
(b) end up with at least 1 angry kid
(c) end up in tears at night wondering if I could have done things differently

Yesterday was one of the days when I was tested again. We had pledged $12 to a friend's kid's school fundraising campaign the day before which the mister had passed to Julian to place in the donation envelope, but the parents went home that night and told us that they only had the $2 and according to their daughter, Julz had taken $10 and kept it. Knowing how much he's fascinated by money, it is possible that it happened.

Last night, D was out for class and I was home alone with the kids. I asked Julz about the $10 and he told me that he had given to the girl that day and wasn't sure what happened to it subsequently.  After checking with my other kids, they all said the same version and he didn't play with it later. Since the $10 was missing in my house, it's obvious it had to be somewhere at home. Got everyone to look for it, but it was in vain.

I checked with my friend if his daughter could remember where she might last saw it, but no one could (sign that $10 nowadays isn't a big thing). My dear friends, would you trust your child or would you trust otherwise given the lack of evidence?

I made the painful decision of forfeiting $10 from Julz piggy bank. (Remember, this child of mine loves money). Julian cried, not because I asked him to bring down his piggy bank, but because I scolded him. I know this boy of mine isn't the best behaved kid amongst the 4 but when he is wrongly accused, that's his normal reaction. And my mother's instinct told me that (thankfully) he didn't take the money. But I wanted him to know that he needed to pay the price of not doing his job properly. Julian saves $2 each day because he doesn't believe in spending too much in school and he enjoys seeing his money grow, so $10 was probably a big thing for him. When he took the money out and passed me, my heart ached. I was holding back my tears and tried to look away so he won't see any trace of my eyes being wet.

The apology note he wrote

I explained to him that while it may not have been his fault entirely, it was because of his irresponsibility and oversight that got him into this. I think he understood it and a part of me was glad he could be detached enough to let go of his $10 for this.

We sat down that night and I got him to write a note too to the couple friends, because he was rude to them and since he was receptive, why not?
We ended with a hug and a kiss and said the night prayers with the rest of the other kids.

When the mister got home, he told me he would have waived the $10 but I disagreed. My argument is that, unlike God, we cannot be around all the time to get him out of situations like these. But we did agree to reimburse him on a later date on a separate occasion.

Everything seemed fine, but I went to bed with a heavy heart. If it was the right thing to do, why would my heart feel the ache? Parenting is never for the weak hearted and our views and decisions made can never be perfect, but as a catholic, the only consolation is I can always turn to the Perfect one who probably has tonnes of experience coping with disciplining... from afar.

A priest friend once told me that God has by far the greatest experience of dealing with children who defy and walk away from Him. He has also felt the greatest pain of sending His innocent child to die on the cross for the greatest sinner amongst us... (Think Hitler and whoever). But I suppose I'm luckier than Him since I can physically hug and kiss my child and remind him I still love him and not leave it to "faith".

You may not agree with how I handled it, and I don't claim to be an expert on disciplining kids even though I have 4 (and soon 5).

I shared before in my social media post that one of the blessings of having kids is the fact I'm seen more on bended knees before the cross, became more humble and more human. The best thing I could do last night was to go to bed, and pray that even if I didn't get the gift of wisdom, I hoped that my kids got the gift of understanding...

I hope God answered that. :)

When good kids do bad things...

Taken from instagrammer
@Maybemicha

No matter how hard we try, we can never shield and protect our kids enough. And even if we did succeed at home, that doesn't mean our kids will be in that bubble in school. We just pray and hope that what we have enforced at home is enough to guide them through their choices in school. From deciding on what they eat during breaks, what they spend their school money on and more importantly who they hang out with. (And chances are, as a parent, you might disagree with most of their choices they make... it's normal. :P)

We managed to transfer A to a "better" Catholic school at the beginning of Primary 3. On hindsight, I didn't realise that cliques have been formed since P1, especially in a girls school, and unless my child is a Ms. Popular, breaking into these groups, would be tough. 

She did make friends though, just that the closer ones are probably not the ideal ones, but we thought that as long as she has friends, we really should just close an eye on it. Unfortunately, halfway through the year, we got a call from her teacher saying that A was called into the principal's office because of her friend's mischief... and A had become an accomplice.

We never believed in using the cane in our household, but of course that day, the mister was very tempted to use it. I was shocked and besides getting upset with A for this, was even more disappointed that I was really nothing but a lousy mummy.

What had gone wrong? D and I have a great marriage, so it can't be the kids are insecure that their family will break up. We are not rich but we are not depriving them of any opportunities, so they won't be left out. We have our family time, and I do spend every afternoon preparing their meals and revising their work. But when something had happened, no matter what the parents had done, it is just... not enough. (and yes.... even good kids can do bad things too)

We did talk to her about her choices and our thoughts on it. She seemed to get it and we left it as that.

Unfortunately, A came home using vulgarities one day. It started with "What the..."(of which we would always tell her to mind her language) but very soon that became "F^&K". (Great... how did my baby grow into a teenager within nine months)

Truth be told, in many of my crossroads in parenting, I usually turn to google first for answers. "How to discipline my child for vulgarities" or "My ten-year old is swearing... help". I did find comfort that I'm not the only parent having this issue (yay????) but the unfortunate thing is most do not have an 'answer' or solution for you. (Some even tell you that since you can't help it, why not swear in front of them too? Like... seriously?)

Both D and I were stumped. We tried taking turns to talk to her, we tried taking away "privileges" and I even had to explain to her what the word was about. Still, not long after, she progressed to showing her middle finger. (Kill me now...) All these time, praying to God to help me through this amongst the other hurdles of motherhood.

The message advert I got!

Finally, I think God pitied me and I received an sms from a mummy whose boy was in the same kindergarten as A. It was about a programme for girls who are aged 9-12 to meet once a week for an activity either like craft, culinary, sport or even community projects to the old folks home. It was initiated some time ago by a group of mothers who thought that they had wanted to come together with activities that could focus on virtues and values rather than societal norms. (God bless these mothers) They have one for older girls and another programme for boys only. If you are a catholic, you would be happy to know that every two weeks, a priest will be there to hear confession. 

IF you know me, I am one who plans the kids activities due to convenience and this was really out of my comfort zone since it's near Pasir Panjang, where NUS is. But because I really thought this may be good for A, I decided to go for this. 

I dropped her a few weeks back for the first session and stayed outside with some parents for some impromptu fellowship. When the session was over,  I was curious to find out how she found it. She actually loved it and didn't mind to go more! (In case you are wondering it's $10/session or $150/half a year just to cover cost). I personally felt that was my best find of the year, and I was really grateful that after praying for so long, I managed to find some sort of relief and answer.

The upcoming activity they will be doing! 

Don't get me wrong, I don't mean to say that this programme is the solution. A's behaviour is an ongoing test on my patience and possibly my reason to why I may go to heaven, but in the midst of my struggles and helplessness, God never left me, He just waited for me to be less anxious and humbler in my invitation to ask Him what to do.

So now, if you asked me, as a parent, what do we do when our kids keep doing something bad. Again, my answer isn't perfect but if there's one thing I have learnt is that during those months of us trying to discipline her for her "shortfalls", I only highlighted the negatives. Truth be told, any kid with some form of intellect, would know what is right and what is wrong. So me emphasising that is really pointless, though we do maintain that one of the rules in the house is no vulgarities.
However, on hindsight, I realised that instead of breathing down her neck on how she should behave, what values she was lacking on, 'punishing and disciplining' her on her misbehaviour, a better way was to highlight OTHER possibilities of how girls can behave well, how other people interact, what girls her age can do, how girls can carry themselves and possibly what kind of friends she could find.

This entry may also not be the solution you as a parent are looking for, but I hope you realise.. the secret ingredient in whatever solution you have is love... :) 

10 years down.... Eternity to go..

Recently D and I had celebrated our 10th anniversary. I'm happy to say that this time we didn't have any Cold War or missed the chance to be with each other. (So yes this time, we actually celebrated.)

These three remains, Faith, Hope and Love.
But the greatest of these is Love. 

D and I had a vow renewal ceremony at church and just like 10 years ago, the mass was still the best part of the day. D and I made it as meaningful as we could. We involved our kids in the walk-in, we used the same readings as we did 10 years back, we got the kids involved in the readings and even wrote and renewed our own vows and promises to each other. (D choked on his vows, I think it's because he was touched, he thinks it's because the church was dusty... *tsk*)

Looking back on this 10 years, D and I are eternally grateful and indebted to a few people who have helped us through our roughest times in our marriage. It's not always with love and tenderness that we look at each other. But God has sent enough angels to make sure we survive. Most of the time, interestingly enough, it would be priests (yes those who have never been married) who are wise enough to remind us how to love each other.

1) Loving the other the way he needs to be loved, and not how we want to love.

Even before our marriage, we have had our fair share of disagreement and arguments. Like how after a long day at work, I would look forward to seeing him, yet whenever we met, D would seem tired and grouchy. It didn't help that when he was with his friends, he would be laughing and actually looked like he is enjoying himself. I saw that as an insult and a form of failure on my part. I used to not understand how is it that his friends could bring out so much life in him and when he was with me, he was so tired and dragging it. I mean, I am his wife after all, shouldn't he be happy to see me? 

He had me at "In":P

But because I love him, I realised that's what he needs. Not necessarily time away from me since  it's not because he didn't enjoy my company but he just appreciated the brainless moments of guys talk (yes... we all know they don't actually talk *rolls eyes*) and because of that he actually is happier. 

D on the other hand is not one who is expressive and talks much about his feelings. But he also knows that I am one who enjoys to be reminded how much he loves me. So whenever he can, he drops me messages of how much he still loves me even when he is busy. He is also a very private person, and for him to come up with his own vows and renew it in front of our friends tells me that he was willing to be vulnerable for me. And for that, I know, I am loved.

2) KEEP making excuses for each other when it hurts the most

This isn't isolated to marriage. It can be used for any relationship. D and I do get clumsy with each other's feelings too. And while most times we are okay, but there are days when I cannot comprehend why he couldn't see my point and insist on his way.

I confided in a priest who smiled hearing my side of the story and calmly told me to make excuses for him. That while the fact that I am hurt remains, making more excuses for him might lessen the hurt. And when you are willing to find those excuses, you will never run out of the love for that person. (Of course this shouldn't be the same if there's any form of abuse in the relationship)

3) To those who have caused harm to us and hurt us? Pray not just for us, but for them

Truth be told, every couple has their own cross(es) to bear in their relationship. For D and I, our greatest is the issue of in-laws. D and I have had many arguments as I felt at times he was not always on my side and he couldn't understand why the actions of his parents would be an issue to me. The same priest who told me to make excuses out of love reminded me to pray for those who have hurt us. Ironically, doing that helps us more than them. Psychologically, it's not possible to be angry and upset at a person while wishing him/her to be blessed.

So yes, while I'm still not in the running for the best daughter-in-law award, I think praying for them would be my saving grace.

4) Keep close to God (and couples who believe in marriage)

It's not by our strength but by God's grace we are still together. We have witnessed many of our friends who struggle and give up in their marriage and most times it is not because their marriage is exceptionally hard. Being in love is totally unnatural. It's not natural to not be jealous, to be patient and kind, to be slow to anger and to be forgiving. Because we are "imperfect" our love can never be perfect as well.

Truth be told, "godly" is a term which hardly anyone would use to describe us. (I mean some people are surprised we are catholics too.. that does say much about us right?) But God is kind to us, with whatever pockets of time we make to pray, He listens. And unknowingly, He would give us more than enough to move along. Sometimes He doesn't answer our prayers through gentle whispers and a "moment of enlightenment" but through couples He has blessed with more than enough to love. Seeing them at them makes us want to model them and love each other better. (okay... this isn't about me being competitive) But yes... three I assure you, is never a crowd.

Finally... to those of you who have been praying and blessing us with your friendship, prayers and love... Thank you. If not for you, there won't be us.

Us at our 10 year milestone 

Are You Feeling Lonely, Mummy?

I don't regret having children. I feel immensely blessed that God would trust them with me, and if something were to happen to them, it will probably just kill me.

So yes, without a doubt, I love them. I may not act crazy over them all the time, but they are my everything. Yet, with this amount of love for them, it does not stop me from feeling that being a parent is a lonely, if not the loneliest, job ever. (Don't ask me how can this even be possible when I have four kids) 

Image taken from figuresandfabulous.com

Many people would warn you about how being parents would change your life, but no one really tells you how lonely you will be as one.

Even if your partner is present, even if you get to sleep till 9a.m. or have a nap in the afternoons, even if you have a whole village to help look after your kids, even if you get time off to meet your friends, even if you can go for a holiday without the kids, you will still be lonely. 

Whenever parents meet, somehow, the topic of the kids will come up. We will relate to each other how we are struggling with our kids, our frustrations we go through each day with the kids or even how we can cope better. And 99.99% we can see us in each other.
When we get so frustrated studying with our kids, the times when we cannot stand our kids because of their attitude, the times when we have power struggles with the in-laws, the times when we are lost and don't know what to do… we had either cried over it or just sleep on it because we are too tired. 

But even when we can relate with each other, come the very next day, nothing has changed.

Most of us will have and can have the same struggles. But just because everyone has it doesn't mean it will bring us any form of comfort..

Often when all is quiet and I feel I'm all alone and thinking about the whole (usually bad)  day can make me cry, I'm reminded of how loneliness is probably God's cry for time with me. 

And all I just need to say is… nothing. No need to justify, no need to even start saying what or how things go bad. When I don't need to try to be strong and be okay. 

So from a lonely mummy to another…. know this: one of the gifts of parenthood is loneliness, whether you like it or not. But loneliness isn't bad and it does get better, when you allow God in to fill you... at least his love will. :) 

Perfect Parenting isn't being Perfect

Over the weekend, I did a crash course with Audrey on Science to prepare her for her class test for Monday. (If you'd ever sat down and revised with your kid and they survived, give yourself one pat on your back. If you survived, give yourself two!)

Truth be told, these are the moments when I am not particularly proud of myself. Sure, we got the topics covered (well sort of) and we finished our test papers and assessment books, but through it all, there were moments of frustration and impatience on my part. And for these, I felt like a lousy parent. It's a constant struggle, to be kind with the method of teaching and to be pushing the child to reach her full potential.

Maybe she already is at her full potential, and I was just trying to push her to reach "perfection".

I was reminded on Sunday that in our world, perfection was never without being compassionate and merciful. In short, it is never forgiving. And that was me during that weekend.
I tried many ways to stop that. I even tried eating a snack so that my mouth would get too distracted from scolding, but I still caved. Pushing for that perfect score seemed to be more important at times. I get more stressed when I find she actually has not mastered what was taught in school.

I'm as unkind to her as much as the world is towards parents, or in this case, mothers.
Psychology studies, people with no children and your parents even, will simply focus on what they think is lacking on your parenting skills. In fact, it almost seems that anybody but the parent will make a better parent.
Social media doesn't help. If you want to be more unsure of your parenting, check out your own Facebook feed. It's normal for people to post something they are proud of and I'm not saying it's not right. I'm saying those moments that people generally post, don't happen all the time. Sometimes, it's not  even real.

That glimpse of "perfection" I post online of my kids and all is just that 'right' second when it was captured. It doesn't show the struggles to capture it.

Not everything is
picture perfect

For example, I normally post many family wefies. What it shows is that we are all having fun and everyone is cooperative and basically everything is ok. There was one shot I had captured a few minutes before the one we settled for had Julian crying. He was disciplined because he could not get his way earlier and was throwing a tantrum.
Did I post the crying picture? Of course not.

There are times when I shared with my friends that at least once a month, we try to go to the hawker centre to let the children experience some local fare, understand how the same dish could cost different in different places and even get them to order and carry their food to the table. Sounds like a brilliant idea to bringing up less entitled kids? Maybe. Some friends would commend us for letting the kids do that. (Okay… I have to admit… that makes me feel good) But what I never shared with was the initial sulking from the kids, the constant exchange of duties between D and I to feed the kids or to carry Kyra. I'm not sure if we actually had a "family" meal, even though we were all at the table actually… But yes, it's not perfect.

And even when this ex school teacher sits and studies with her kids for their exams, they don't get top grades, or end up in the best class or get bursary or scholarship awards.
Or when I see friends who have no helpers, yet so independently manage their households with so much orderliness and pride while comparing to the everyday struggles I have managing mine with extra help, that sucks.

What about the 1001 studies and comments about how it's terrible to expose the kids to the iPad and TV? Trust me, I'd probably be the first parent to be hung because of that.
My kids have injured themselves under my watch, they have defied me before, they have been terrified when I disciplined them before, they have argued and fought before in front of me, they have had moments when they are scared and I wasn't there, they have even been lost before. Many people would have many reasons to condemn me as a mummy because I basically have failed many times.

D once commented that the hardest thing about being a parent is that you can't be the child. I forget that my kids do not need a prefect mum to achieve their perfect grades, but they do need a supportive mum who is interested in their lives. Everyday I remind myself that the teachers in school are capable of pointing out their mistakes. I am still learning to just sit beside them, egg them on to complete their work and if it's wrong, ask them to check it again and let it go if she thinks if it's right. She will learn the right answer and how to deal with it when she gets her assignment back.

Sunday's gospel from Matthew 5:48 on to "be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect" reminded me not to be God, but to be with Him and to let Him be with me.
I'm not perfect and I don't need to be perfect. I just need to try my best.
They will be fine. I will be too.

Image saved from dumpaday.com