Parenting on Purpose

A boy and his boat. E embarked on the Optimist Sailing Introductory Course recently. It was his first experience on the water. He started off raring to go. However, a few weeks later, Covid guidelines dictated that we stop again for a few weeks, and he lost momentum and spent the break gradually feeling more anxious about being out on the open sea and about the challenges he had had controlling the boat. Sailing is hard work. Each time you have to take the boat out into the water. And you have to take the boat back to shore. Week after week, we went through the same cycle of talking E through his fears and trying to balance between hearing him out and reminding him to stay the course and persevere in the hard things. My prayer was that our son would encounter God when he cried out to Him with his genuine fears, but I was also struggling at the same time with my own worries about what could happen out at sea. I knew there was a very experienced coach, but there were still so many factor...

The almost 4-year-old stamped his feet and pouted; his face scrunched up in deep agony. And it seemed that nothing we said would do. K was headed towards a full-blown tantrum and we dreaded to think how long it would take to calm him down. It was at that moment that our almost 9-year-old chose to ask the question, "K, a re you crying because you don't want to leave us?" The little boy stopped his pouting, as he nodded and sobbed. It was a heart-wrenching flow of tears as he clung onto Mummy with koala-like tenacity. Sue later described it as a "desperate pleading look". K would repeat his sobbing and his hugging over the next few days. And as he articulated to us after he was calm, it was a desperate plea for help.  "I don't want to leave Mummy and Daddy.  I want to stay here.   " Taken at the River Safari on one of the last days before K's departure. "Take a photo of me with the turtles, Mummy!" he kept asking, at each turtle exhibit...

And when he came to the place where the wild things are they roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws- till Max said "BE STILL!"  - Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak Days of Being Wild Last week we accompanied our 4-year-old son Z for a class of a different kind. Invited by one of our all-time favourite theatre groups Act 3 International for a media workshop, we didn't quite know what to expect when we arrived at their premises. And the anticipation grew as  we (the parents) were separated from them (the children) at the start of our 1-hour workshop. As we ascended the stairs to our separate drama area, I was brought back to a time many years ago, when I, as a child, began my own foray into the world of drama. I was enthralled then by the three personalities who made up the original Act 3; as I now reminisced about how I, as a child, developed a healthier sense of t...

It has become a morning ritual. The little boy would run over to the huge toy chest and purposefully attempt to pry it open. Finally achieving his objective, he would excitedly select a piece from the colourful block set, and intentionally place it on the floor next to him. Reaching back into the chest, he would repeat the process with another block, and position it on top of the first piece. Suddenly, in the midst of his activity, he would look frantically around the room. Glancing to and fro, his eyes would fall on an older man, who at this moment, would either be having breakfast or preparing to go to work. In a dramatic display of affection, the boy would run to the man, and drag him to the pile of building blocks on the floor. He wanted his Daddy to join him in this special time of father-son bonding. We decided to buy the large chest of MEGA Bloks for Z ahead of his second birthday next month. Our son had been enjoying his building blocks while at his grandparents' place...