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

When God changes your plans

Today would have been Philip's 4th birthday. Four years ago, before giving birth to Philip, I went to the adoration room in the Cathedral of the Good Shepherd since I was all nervous and anxious about the impending C-section, recovery and just having a newborn all over again.

My view just like 4 years ago

It's been some time since I visited the adoration room at the Cathedral and I thought it would be nice to go there again to just sit down and be still.

As I sat and reflected, many questions came to my mind... "What would he look like now?", "What would he like?", "What would he like playing?" and the list goes on.

Yet the greatest fear that struck me was if he knew who I am. It's been four years and I would probably continue to miss him for the rest of my life.. but a selfish part started to wonder what if I was just a stranger to him?

I hadn't planned for him, but when I knew I was pregnant with him, I had plans for him... and in those plans lies hopes and wishes.

I would have wanted him to be a priest... not any other priest but one who is driven to make a difference.. to bring joy and hope to the ones he was called to shepherd (hence he was named after the patron saints of joy and hope - St Philip Neri and St. Jude) 

And as I thought about the dreams I had for Philip, a tear rolled from my eye. 

What is wrong with my plans for Philip, I wondered. 

Why would God need to change my plans to replace them with His if there was nothing wrong with it? 

I stumbled and I could not make sense of it and ironically in the safe place of the adoration room, I started to become angry with God. 

I remained in the prayer room for a while longer and while I didn't get any answer to my question, I didn't leave the place resentful. But for the rest of the day, this question stuck with me. 

We went for mass today as a family and invited Philip's god family over for his 'birthday celebrations'. (I know... my kids find it weird.. but in their love indulge me nonetheless).

A birthday cake with 4 candles

After the party was over, the gentleness and wisdom of God came through. 

Was anything wrong with my plans? Not at all. 

So... why did God want to change my plan? 

Because I saw it for the best for myself, while God saw it from Philip's.

Albeit being born healthy, God knew that Philip would be a very special child who probably was created for a short period on earth to enjoy the eternal reward in heaven. 

For this special child, He needed a family who would embrace and comfort him, welcome and show him a glimpse of God here so that he might know Him when he dies. 

Unfortunately, this plan for him would bring great misery and sorrow to the ones around him, but to that God has made sure that as long as I lean my heart towards Him, this would be bearable. 

"Trust and seek Him in those times," the Holy Spirit tells me... and to the question of whether Philip would forget me, He whispers in my heart... "Never".

I know ALL these came from just 2 couples! 

Hey God... It's Me.

Hi Father,

It's Philip's birthday today. Interestingly when it's the birthdays of my other kids, I don't really talk to you about their birthdays, just this one special child.

5 days old

I remembered the day after Philip's first major surgery, Dan and I visited him at ICU ward to check in on him. He had so many tubes coming out of his body that it was a pain to watch. I never took a picture of that thinking that I didn't want to remember him in that state, but ironically, I soon came to realise it will never be a choice since I won't be able to shake off that image of him in my memory. Philip was conscious but he had this perpetual frown on his face. It was as if he was saying to us "Why did you do this to me?" or "Why didn't you stop them from doing this to me?"

And while I was laughing at his choice of expression then, it must have been to him that we have failed him as parents. Something I am sure You can relate to many times a day. "Why Lord, did you allow bad things to happen" or "Why Lord did you allow me to suffer?" 

I wished I could explain to Philip then why we needed to do the operation or even do any of the surgical procedures, unfortunately, there was no way of us explaining to him why things were such. Our understanding capabilities are of a different level. And today as I went for my run, I realised for those times I questioned why, it was not because You did not have the answer, or that You were not present, it was because there was no way you could help me understand why.

Last Sunday, Dan shared that the phrase that struck him was from the second reading, "Where, O Death, is your sting?" And while it reminded him that life on earth is temporary, it's significant events like these that reminds me the sting is in the memories, in my heart and in my mind.

And after three years, I still wish that You would choose to let Philip stay with me, but I also realised that "my ways are not your ways, and my thoughts are not your thoughts". I will never be able to understand why this must happen.. and for now during these moments when I struggle with not being able to understand your ways, I take comfort that You have never stopped to be near to me... even as I walk away from You during moments of darkness. From the priest who offered to say mass with the family, despite his busy schedule, to the acquaintance who reached out with a word of consolation for today... Thank you Father, for never giving up on me... even when I (the lowly one) don't deserve that. 

I can't be with Philip today... so please hug him a little tighter and kiss him a little more for me today. And in case he forgets about us, remind him that we still miss him and will never stop loving him... just as how you will never stop loving me. 

Love,

Your Child.

Us today…. 💕

A Letter to Me... From me

Dearest Me,

I have never written a letter to you before. I have talked to many people and God about what had happened in your life but never talked to you before and so today, I thought I should. 

My dear, it's been two years since you had experienced your greatest pain in life thus far... and I think personally, you have been doing very very well. It's true that you have a lot to work on... like how you are still impatient, still easily irritable, still brutally honest and in many ways still not perfect...but you have surpassed way better than you could have imagined. 

You did become less idealistic in life though. You who once believed that real bad things won't happen to you will realise that they do. But accepting that fact didn't make you lose hope that in today there are many things to be grateful for each day. Even though you have felt like you died this very day two years back, I'm grateful that you make the decision every single day to want to live not because you have to but because there's also no need for you to stop living and appreciating this gift God has given to you.

Two years ago, R.I.P to you simply meant Rest in Peace, two years later, you wish it means Return If Possible. You still grieve every single day. You won't know how to shake this pain off or feel better... and unfortunately, unless you forget who you lost, you will always remember who you lost. 

For a long time you had wondered how the grace of God was sufficient for you after Philip had died. People see what you do as great strength, because they simply can't imagine what they will do if they were in your shoes, but they didn't realise that your everyday act is a breath of new life from the Holy Spirit, something which anyone and everyone can do if they only have a little bit more of faith in themselves as well as in the Father.

I know you didn't sign up to be in the bereavement mother's group... unfortunately none of the members in this group (or any loss group) became a member willingly. But in these two years, you have learnt not to waste your pain and your grief. You have learnt in turn to use this grief to be more compassionate to the one who'e struggling, to watch out more for the one who is lost and left behind, and you have used this pain to in hope to bring some joy to someone else.

To you, you never knew if it was harder for you to remember Philip's would-be birthday or his death anniversary. You would have wished that more people got to know Philip but since that is not possible, you worked very hard to not let the memory of his existence be forgotten. But you soon realised that the best way of showing who Philip was to you was to live your life with lessons he has left you with... faith, hope and love. 

I don't know what the future will look. I know there will be days when you will laugh (it's great!) and there will be days when for no reason your tears will just flow (and it's okay!). Some days you look around and will feel like you have everything, other days you will look at what you had lost and feel like you got nothing. It's at these moments when you will question why God had allowed you to go through this and it is during these times you will also remember what your husband told you, that God's role was to take away sin not suffering.

By now, you will know that unlike a flu or illness, your grief will not go away and you won't be free from this pain you are going through. But each time you hurt, you have learnt that it's an invitation from God to be closer to you. 

So my dear girl, Philip will always be precious to you... but above that you are not just going to be precious to him but to the One who gave him to you. 

You need to remember this, that though Philip has gone somewhere really really far, he is always in the hugs and kisses his siblings give you, in the gentle breeze when you go on your walks and even when your tears roll down your cheeks thinking about him. But more importantly, you need to remember that where he is in, God is there too.

Love always,

Me

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. :)

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... :) 

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. :) 

In my time, Mummy

Kids grow up so fast they say. (It doesn't feel that way when they misbehave or they wake you up in the middle of the night.. somehow you wish they grow up faster) But when all is calm and when you start to think back through the years, somehow, they are right. 

Isaac's graduation class photo

Even though Isaac is only six… but within that time, he's gone from crawling to running, babbling to reading and just last week, he's graduated from his kindergarten. (Yay to cheaper school fees but OMG to he's going Primary School???) 

I remembered just March last year, I actually broke down halfway through dinner with D as I felt Isaac was struggling with his learning. (In case you missed the posting, you can read it again here: http://chellelifestory.blogspot.sg/2015/03/when-tiger-mum-learns-to-just-be-mum.html) 

I was worried that he will not be able to cope in school, that he might be left behind and that he won't be able to succeed in future. (Though at that time I didn't have a benchmark or an idea as to what success would mean for a kid…) BUT because he could not remember  what was taught 5 seconds ago, or he could not recognize his alphabets then, I freaked out. It didn't help in my paranoia that at that time other kids around his age were doing much better and some friends suggested that he might need medical intervention. 

I remembered feeling helpless and just breaking down in front of D thinking that just because Isaac might not succeed, I had failed. (Mothers can be so hard on themselves)

I mean, besides smiling and charming people around him, he couldn't read and didn't talk much, besides knowing how many robots there are in transformers, he  didn't have any number sense and could not do simple addition. In short, even as a mother, I saw what he couldn't do more than celebrated what he could do. 

And while people with good intentions will tell you that exams are overrated and there's more to life than school exams, no one would be able to feel the anxiety more than the parents. (Because hello, most professionals come from the same few leading schools) At some point, I got frustrated with myself. On one hand, I really wanted them to enjoy their childhood, but on the other hand, I can't help but compare with their peers on where they stand. I found I was struggling because I didn't know what I actually valued in parenting. 

At least in Singapore, the hallmarks of the child's life are punctuated with the different exam points in their school life. The highlight for a 10 year old is the streaming exams, for a 12 year old the PSLE, the 14 year old the selection process of subjects for O levels, the 16 year old the O levels, the 18 year old the A levels etc. And so, for parents somehow, we use this benchmark to decide how we have also fared in parenthood. If the kids achieve good results, it would indirectly translate that we have done well in our parenting styles, at least in the eyes of many others.

But I personally have never been really successful in the education system. I mean, sure I didn't fall through the cracks of the system, but I didn't achieve top scores. Not many people know this but I actually got D7 for my GP in my AO levels. SO yes… I didn't have a full A levels certificate and if you did get it, you are already one up above me.

Image from auto.howstuffworks.com

But only when we take a step back, we also know that exams results don't guarantee health, happiness and love. I remembered a few months ago, Isaac read out a bible passage on the screen and I was pleasantly surprised. Even if the words weren't difficult, I cheered because he could read. There were times when he surprised me too with his logic. Like recently, while D was driving, he asked D if he could drive faster. "How much faster?" D asked. Isaac took a look at the speedometer and said "220km/hr." D laughed and explained that's not possible. "Of course it's possible papa, if not why would they put it there?" Isaac innocently asked. 

Moments when he looked out for his younger siblings or when he so willingly give up his things for them warms my heart more than what he got for his spelling tests.

I asked D what he thought success was and he told me that the moment when he can do something without worrying what other people thought of him would be the time when he is successful. (Wherever does he get his wisdom from???) I agree.

I still find myself struggling and on that account, Isaac has done way better than me. Of course he loves to be praised and complimented, but even if it looks silly, he is far more courageous to try it than me, or my 'smarter' kids.

Such things may not be recognized in a school test, but he will be fine in life. And I should learn to be too. 

Peter the Rock

Today is my first born's birthday. It's been 8 years since we embarked on this journey of parenthood. Nothing what school has taught or prepared us for, but just what we remembered from growing up with our parents.

Special birthday blessing
from Fr. Arro

Surely being parents to four kids we would have tons of advice and experiences to share. But truth of the matter is, while we might cope better with a kid than we did 8 years ago, we still continue to struggle. I always tell others that it's not that we know what to expect even with four kids, but our expectations are just lowered. In the past, I remember we would sign Audrey to classes like gym and Julia Gabriel Chinese classes, and with no 2,3, and 4, we were like "don't be silly". Now we are just glad that they could eat, sleep, breathe and poo. (Told you our expectations dropped)

Truth be told, I have no idea how we managed to survive the past 8 years with 4 kids and come out alive (I mean them not us). Throughout this time, I had moments when I had been careless with my words and actions. No they were not abused, but I know their spirits had been crushed as well. Like how I would raise my voice at Audrey when we were going through her work because she doesn't get the concept or worse forgotten about it. Fortunately, kids are equipped with forgiveness, and soon, other moments of tenderness replace that moment of doubt. 

I have had moments when I had to look out for the younger child and miss out on the growing up of the older or more independent ones which soon became a habit and after awhile they grow up so fast and they don't need me anymore or maybe prefer the helper or daddy or grandma to me. 

I have had moments of being frustrated of not knowing what to do with a tantrum throwing kid (which usually happens when you are rushing for time). If the day is good, I would let them continue to wail and make a fool out of themselves until they get tired and know that there's no way things will change. But on a bad day, I was either left with smacking the child or leaving the house and let them cry until they get tired. 

Oh! Not forgeting the moments when I got caught up and stressed by the other kids' progression compared with mine and realizing they are slower than their peers, which in turn makes me worried and stressed and suddenly I become so paranoid with their education and that makes me the not-so-fun parent.

Honestly, just because I had listed them down doesn't mean I have overcome them. With everyday I still struggle with my decisions and my parenting choices. Even with four kids, I go through the same battles as those with one… worse. I may have failed 4 times over and maybe I will never learn for some things. (That sucks)

But through these 8 years, I draw comfort from Peter. When Jesus changed Simon's name to Peter, it was not because he was as solid as a rock then. He was possibly one who was really quite a "failure". (I mean, he was the only one who asked to walk on water and yet when he was given the chance he got scared and fumbled. And he was so confident that even when Jesus who obviously knew what was going to happen said that he was going to deny him three times, he said otherwise) But God saw what we don't see. He saw the future value of Peter and not his current shortcomings. 

Being a mother of four, I have to admit, I don't have all the answers and even if I do, those answers may not be perfect or right. The only consolation I have is, Christ is always here. And it's probably the best consolation I need. :) 

Image from 

spiritualinspiration.tumblr.com

Parenthood Resolutions for 2016

I had lunch with some girlfriends yesterday. Within the group, there were 2 pregnant ladies (In case you are wondering… it's not me) and 2 who were engaged. So naturally the topics we talked about mainly revolved around motherhood and marriage.

It was surreal talking to them because we are all the same age but I had the most number of kids (okay… but it's really quite hard to find someone who has the same number of kids at my age) and was married the longest. So suddenly, I was like the grandmaster in the group (My brief moment of pride :P)

That night, after putting the kids to bed, I sat and wondered what I would do differently since it was the start of the new year and before the year pass me by again, I thought, I shouldn't just let the regret build up.

1. Assure the second youngest child in the family
The kids don't sleep on their own unless the grandparents stay over. So usually, the older two sleeps with the dad while the younger two sleep with me. (Isn't it amazing that even when we don't sleep on the same bed, we still managed to have 4 kids??)

Julz holding on to my hand
during TV time...

There was a period when after Kyra was out, Julian was "forced" to learn to be independent and do what the older two do. I have to admit there was a period where he did have some insecurities and was feeling threatened by no. 4. But because I was so caught up with the newborn, I overlooked it. Just recently, I started my habit again of being beside him  just before he sleeps at night. I would just pump out my milk, pass it to the helper who will handle Kyra while I spend that few minutes with him, kissing him and talking to him for a short while before he sleeps.
On hindsight, I realized ever since I started doing that, he's been less disruptive and demanding. Just because he is a big brother to kyra, I often forget he is still only 4. Maybe it's because he's starting to act his age. Or maybe because we went back to quality time with him. Whatever it is, if spending 15 minutes a day at night would give me the chance to remind him I love him as much still, I will grab it.

2. Letting kids play with the simple things
Thanks to the move, I am forced to pack and unpack many things. It's unbelievable how just within a year, we can accumulate so many things. Amongst them… toys. Because they are the only grandchildren for both, when one gets a toy all get a toy too. (The problem is they are not sharing a toy) So for example, I have 3 lion heads because of Chinese New Year, X number of trucks, Y number of balls and the list goes on. Somehow, when we went forth to multiply, the toys also did too. (And no… we are not the ones who have been indulging them)
To be fair, they don't just love playing with play dough and lego, they really just love playing. For example, our sofa cushions contain feathers. Through the years, due to wear and tear, we get some feathers poking through the fabric and escaping. One day, both Isaac and Julian just took a loose feather each, threw it up and tried to catch it. It later progressed to them letting it go in front of the fan and catching it before it touches the ground. (I have to say that took some skill)
They spent quite some time entertaining themselves with it until it was time to bathe. I was proud that they discovered that game and was prouder to see them modifying the game. It could jolly well be a plastic bag, a tissue, cardboard box or even erasers. The amount of laughter and fun they got from it was no less than the toy they were given. The difference is one teaches them to find opportunities in ordinary things, the other just feeds their immediate impulse.

3. Take more photos
I may have a camera function in my phone, but I am really bad in taking photos of the kids. I always reckon that it really takes a lot of effort going after each kid and taking photos of all 4 kids. But I do recognize that, these growing up moments are best captured and framed in pictures. So I decided that since I do a lousy job taking pictures, I should let the kids do it for me. Hence, I probably go visit cash convertors and get three second hand cameras for the kids. D and I are planning to go Bangkok for a family trip this March (God bless us). And the kids will be allowed to take photos of the sights that excite them. We probably talk about their pictures before they sleep and save it into an album. (I just hope that they practice the value of responsibility and look after the cameras) But it may be fun… so why not? :)

4. Be more aware of my emotions when disciplining the kids
Compared to D, I am more short-fused. Unfortunately for the kids, I am also the disciplinarian. It took me 8 years and 4 kids (and age) to mellow down. Now when I am feeling frustrated with the kids, I'd always wondered how I look from the kids' perspective, or what emotions I might have manifested from the way they look and respond to me. I do worry and wonder if all they see D and I as the fun parent and the angry one.

Image from www.wsj.com

Just a few days ago, I asked Audrey whether she had any homework from school. In both times I asked, she said no. I left it alone and went ahead to do the packing of the house. My mother-in-law came and within minutes of checking, she found out that Audrey had some work to be done. I gave Audrey the death scare. I was angry at her for lying. She knew grandma was there and immediately went to her for refuge and cried. That made it worse. It didn't help that grandma was trying to come up with an excuse for her. I stood my ground, scolded her and told her to go up to my room with me. When she was finally up, she stopped crying. (What a great actress she is) I admitted to her that because of what she did, I was very upset with her then and she should quietly do her work while I cool down before I thought I could talk to her calmly. Within minutes, I felt better and was able to help her in her work. In between, she even shared about that day's school's performance. After her work is done, I had a word with her on being responsible with her work. She acknowledged she could do better and we ended the session with a hug and a kiss.

It is tough to be a poker player when it comes to your kids. But if they aren't a good enough reason to be a better person, then what is?

5. Carry them more
I've stopped carrying my first two because they are just way tooooo heavy for me. But with Kyra and Julian, I am glad that I still have the chance of lugging my koalas around. Very soon, they too with grow big and I won't be able to carry them anymore… But before that time comes, I too should really hold and hug them more in my arms.

6. Have more faith
The gospel last Sunday was about the wedding at Cana. In case, you aren't too sure what the reading is about, there was a wedding which Jesus and his mother attended. Unfortunately, the host ran out of wine and this was brought to Jesus' attention. He told the servants to then fill the jars with water. And when the servants took the water from the jars, it became wine. Better than the original wine which was served.
I'm not sure if anyone ever wondered what will happen to the servants if they had served water to the guests. The truth is, whatever they did, they acted because they had faith in Christ. (even if they didn't know he was christ, I mean that was his first miracle after all!)
It's reminders like these that I am ashamed at myself for not believing that regardless what situation, I have enough grace to go through it.

I have made my choice to work on these. I'm not sure if I will be able to succeed but at least working on it is a start. What about you? :)

That's Good… Enough.

When I tell people that I have four kids, one of the most common response I get is "You must really like kids". I do like them… but mostly when they sleep or when they are in my mind…

Before you judge, let me intro you my kids with the picture below...

Image taken from pinterest

It's not surprising when they become monsters (and I mean literally) these are the top phrases I use almost everyday:
1) Stop it!
2) What did I say?
3) Why did you do that?
4) What are you doing?
(And the classic…)
5) 1… 2… 3…

If words can't get to them, my hand will. Then… there's peace again. (even if it's only for 5 minutes)

Motherhood is probably the most amazing experience ever, but it may not be enjoyable. (p.s. He/she who said it was, is lying)
Try enjoying it when you are sound asleep at 3 a.m. and your child wakes you up for milk or kicks you in the face because both of you are sleeping on the same bed.
Or when you are out in public, and your kid misbehaves and later wails and throws a tantrum.. That's not fun either.
When you bring them out for dinner, and either you or your spouse take turns to eat (when they are younger) or you have to feed them first (oh they eat sososo slowly…) and after which you have to gobble down yours because they become restless waiting for you.
When you tell them to do something and they don't do it and even (dare to) say no. (Hello it's not even a choice!! What you mean "No"?!?!) Trust me, for a control freak, this is painful.
Worse when some "know-it-all" comes along and tells you what you do isn't right, it can be demoralizing. (Like thanks ah)

Honestly, I suspect God created motherhood to give women a greater chance to enter heaven, especially after what Eve did to Adam. (Picture taken from christianfunnypictures.com)

At times, I wonder what is it that I am not doing it right when I read other mummy blogs or mummy posts on FB and see my friends enjoying motherhood and their children while I find myself struggling with it. (And I do feel guilty about not enjoying it)
It doesn't help that we get constant reminders that their time with us is limited since they grow up so fast. (Before I know it, I'll probably be a grandma..)

Judging at how many times I have to discipline them when they don't share and fight with each other (it's a lot… in a day) and the things we get to do together (It's limited, and I suspect I'm going to raise boring kids)… I don't see how I am getting this right. Maybe because they are older now and can do more things (which most likely are the wrong ones), most time spent with them would be to discipline and to correct their actions. I don't know if it is because of what they did that made me more irritable, but I just can't seem to find how people can have fun being a mother. (I know.. I have 4 kids… we are screwed)

Fortunately, there's such a thing as divine intervention. (Thank God for.. God!)
During the meet the parents session in the boys' school, the teachers commended Julian for being patient and always waiting for his friends before embarking on an activity. And for Isaac, he is always that caring brother who looks out for Julian in school, making sure he is comfortable in the new environment. (They should just stay in school the whole day I say…)

In the midst of the mistakes and struggles, something right happen.
And as I sit down that day for my daily reflection, I came to realize that maybe I was trying to be a mummy that was wayyyy too perfect. I was trying to be that laughing parent we see in ads and dramas. Not that I never laugh in my journey as a mother, but truth be told, it's probably not something that happens everyday.

Maybe I will never be that fun parent when compared to other mummies. To be honest, I won't bother with inconveniencing myself to bring them all over the island for enrichment programs. I mean I struggle to plan where to bring my kids during the holidays even!
But I do know that when my child needs me, I will still drop everything and be with him/her immediately.
Or after a disciplining session, I will be the first to offer them a hug and kiss to remind them that I still love them, just not the act.

I am a believer that God gives us the type of children who are best for us. Different mummies will have different journeys with their own kids, and even if we make a mistake, the fact that we are trying day after day… trust me, that's good… enough. :)

When Staying Married is anything but "common"...

Still one of my favorite pics
from our wedding...

Today D and I are 8 years old as husband and wife in the eyes of the church. I asked D what he thought the secret recipe in our marriage is, he looked at me with all seriousness and said it was him. Friends probably agree that he's probably my greatest fortune and I am his downfall… Since he's Mr Nice guy and really is adored by everyone. (Thanks guys… I'm sure if you asked him who the second messiah is, he would also say it is him)

Since the start of the blog, I have been reflecting on what I do as an impact on my kids and have hardly spend the time to reflect what I did as an impact on my spouse and I suppose the latter can't be less important than that of the former. 

While we both love each other dearly, we have our own struggles as with any typical family… Like how we would worry about the monthly expenses and the impending birth of no 4, or how we may not agree with the in laws (ok.. mostly me) while tackling it with sensitivity and respect, or how we sometimes are harsh to each other because of our words. 

The list goes on… And while we should not just wait till a special time of the year to reflect and appreciate each other like our birthdays or anniversaries, I am guilty of it.

But that's the unfortunate thing… We always forget to give our spouse the recognition that what he/she did made a difference in our lives or at least that day.

I remember one of my friends posted last year that she was delayed at work and the mr needed to wait 45 minutes for her. Out of concern, he called to check if she was okay, but she snapped at him for the call.

When she got into the car, she thought her day would end in an argument but to her surprise, the first thing he did was to lean over, kiss her and apologize (okay.. i don't know for what). The two hugged and despite a horrible day, he made it right for her. 

That post gathered over 100 likes (in my opinion it should have more… but that's not the point). And even as I re-write her post, such an act continues to put a tear in my eye...The point is, because of social media, we always tend to see things that seem to cause us to react… Anything to do with government, with the traditional view of family, with violence…. Just anything that will have two camps, we seem to follow and pay attention to it. No one seems to be keen on the "common" stuff… What's sadder is that these "common" stuff is not as common as we think. 

If I challenge any of you reading, to post for the next 7 days, on things that your spouse does that may seem ordinary, but yet makes a difference to you… Would you? 

Truth be told… Chances are you probably might… but it's probably going to be tough for you to look out for it… and because of that not post it. :) 

When D and I were preparing for our marriage, we went for a marriage preparation course which got us to write a betrothal pledge or love letter to each other. It basically is a pledge where we write to remind ourselves how to be life-giving to each other, to love the person how he needs to be loved, not how we want to. 

But it's been 8 years… And I haven't rewritten another love letter/pledge to him… and so… here goes..

Dear D,

It has been 8 wonderful years with you. Some days were easier than others but I would not have exchanged that for anything else.

And as we continue to journey as husband and wife, I would like to thank you for loving me for what seems to be a tall order. I admit putting up with me is probably not one of the easiest options you have made but thank you for doing so.

I know there are many things till now I still need to work on. 

I promise to be life-giving by considering your feelings and position whenever I can't see eye to eye with your parents. And even be more enthusiastic on family dinners and events.

I promise to be more patient and less grumpy when you ask me to do something that's out of my comfort zone even if it's for your convenience.

I promise to remember that your interests make a huge part of you and because of that I will put in the effort to enjoy and appreciate it or at least support you in it rather than putting you down for what I deem as impractical.

I promise to understand that you are trying and at times it isn't easy, and be more appreciative that you are shouldering all the pressures and stress outside so that we are able to pay the bills and a little more every month… something which I take for granted for. 

So thank you my dear, for humbling me and teaching me that someone like me also deserves to be loved.

You are truly a gift and because of you, I know God is real. :)

Fatherhood - When a Boy becomes a Man...

Yesterday was one of the (rare) days which I practically like all my friends' FB posts. Most (if not all) of those I liked were posts on appreciating their partners and/or fathers for being fathers. But I realized with each "like" I clicked, I was more so congratulating their wives on a successful marriage and partnership.

When D and I were dating, we talked about the future of us having a family (like who doesn't) but our discussion surrounded more around how to provide for them and how many kids (somehow, for this, we never really settled on a number…) It was only when we had kids, did we see the side of each other that we won't see when we are dating.

Like how D talks to the children, is totally different from how he talks to me.
To me, he can be (and is) comfortable, to them, he is protective and smitten (rolls eyes). 

Or what we will do for our kids...

Like recently, Audrey woke up at 2a.m with bad tummy ache. She was having constipation (she actually didn't poo for 3 days and we left it as that). She had to go to the toilet but she thought it was too painful to poo it out (trust me it was like watching your daughter go into labour). Despite having medical training, he wasn't sure how to help her… and he felt quite awkward seeing her like that. So I sat with her and gave her water, massage her back and made her poo. After 1 hour, whatever was stuck finally came out. After bathing her, D was very grateful and actually thanked me for it (like really?) He confessed he won't know what to do if it was just him. (In case you are wondering, Audrey now poos once a day)

But when the children were babies and had problem discharging their mucus from their nose, D would suck it out with his mouth (and of course he spits it out) BUT I don't think I can ever do that…. Like… ever. (To be fair… I know many dads who have done so.. and mothers who are grateful that the dads have done so)

Or what we worry for our kids…

Like how I would worry they won't be able to cope in school and if they are being a menace in school… and how D will… not worry. (Should I be worried??) Contrary to me, he would be damn proud if his kid was a bully rather than being bullied (Should i really be worried???) BUT the mister can worry about which boy will be taking his daughter out while I'm like… she's only 6?

But both of us play a very different role in our children's lives. I personally learnt that growing up… 

My dad was an air steward when I was a child and possibly because of that (and other reasons), I didn't really have much of a memory of him being around. Most of the time, my mum was the one who tried to play both roles of mum and dad. I know she was trying very hard and I know she loves me real lot, to be fair both my parents do, but I suppose a father's role isn't one that can be replaced by the other parent, and vice-versa.

Growing up, my most intimate times of heartaches (like when I broke up with my ex), my highlights of success (like when I aced my exams/interviews) or even the problems I faced when working was always straight to mummy. But I have to say, games I played growing up (like how dad and I played hide and seek when mummy cooked), magic tricks I learnt (I reckon every father has that silly hiding a coin game which will suddenly appear behind your ear or elbow), sitting on thrill rides in a theme park (mummy thinks that life's too short to scare yourself for nothing), early morning rides from home to school (because mummy thinks if the sun is not out, it's nature's way to tell people to continue sleeping) and many more were enriched because of dad. 

I don't think I could ever raise my kids without D… I mean, unless he dies, I would reckon it would be really tough… But it would be different. A father and a mother aren't just gender roles that society deems suitable and appropriate to bring up a family. And many a time, because of women's rights and gender equality we tend to forget these two compliments each other more than anything. 

I'm grateful to D for teaching the boys how to love, protect and treat with respect the woman he married, and yet teach Audrey, that she is worthy to be treated like a lady from the man she will love in future. 

I'm grateful to D for being able to handle the pressure and stress of providing for the family so that I can concentrate on just looking after the family's meals, disciplining the kids and schoolwork and even sneak in things I would want to do at times.

I'm grateful to D for making parenthood enjoyable. For being my support and my anchor when I have doubts on motherhood. 

Maybe because of their limited daily vocab usage, dads hardly teach their children how to live their lives, but their decisions and actions in life show their kids how to do so. 

So to the fathers out there… May you always be blessed with a Father's day moment of appreciation, to know that what you do makes a lot of difference to your kids and more importantly your wife. :)