Parenting on Purpose

It all started one morning when my almost-2-year-old son was crying uncontrollably outside our bedroom door.  Interrupting the little one in mid-cry, I tried unconvincingly to distract him.  “E. Enough crying. Come play blocks with Daddy.”  The young boy ignored me and persisted with his screaming. “E. How about if you come cooking with Daddy?” “Umm.“  The boy suddenly stopped his crying. Without the further shedding of a single teardrop, he turned silently, and purposefully marched to the kitchen.  “Cook with Daddy, “ he grunted. Early indications of our younger son's interest in cooking. All this happened about a month ago, and I recorded the events in a Facebook update: I should publish a book entitled "How to Cook with One Hand", a compilation of recipes on how to cook with your almost-2-year-old child; ranging from simple recipes on how to get your son to beat eggs for an omelette dish to the "dos" and "don'ts...

It has been quite some time since the last blog post about Z's art class. This was largely due to the studio's move to its new location at Charlton Road in Upper Serangoon as well as some restructuring in our son Z's class. The new studio is located in a residential neighbourhood, and its quiet surroundings seem to be very conducive for students to engage in their artwork. The studio has a very distinct teaching philosophy and we feel that is important for the development of the child. This term, heART Studio is teaching students the work of Friedensreich Hundertwasser. The artist emphasises individual creativity, and his artwork is characterised by bright colours and organic forms. At the onset of the course, the teachers introduced Z to what they termed as the "Five Treasures of Hundertwasser"; namely lollipop trees, onion domes, swirls, houses and floating eyes. The "Five Treasures" of Hundertwasser. The first few sessions were h...

This feature article was first written in June 2013 for Essential Parenting, an online parenting magazine by the Ministry of Social and Family Development. It has been reproduced here following the closure of the magazine. Holidays: Spending quality time with the family. It was a hard lesson to get through. Tim was complaining about each task that I had set for him to do, and as his teacher, I was getting increasingly frustrated. Tim finally shared that he was upset because his father hardly spent any time with him. “All he does is work, work, work…”, he said resignedly. I asked if he had shared his feelings with his parents. He said he had, but nothing had changed. “How about the time he cooked a special meal for your birthday?” I recalled. “I’m sure your father loves you. It’s just that he has a lot of work to do.” “Yeah… well, maybe,” he replied. “But no matter what, it’s not the same. My brother and I still need that special time alone with him, and I’m pretty sure it’...

It's difficult not to contemplate the meaning of life when you're 47 years of age. You consider the birth pangs, the moment of anguish when you were expelled from the womb into a harsh and cruel world. Things were different then - no Facebook, no iPhone, not even the ubiquitous medium we now call the Internet. Listening to the voices of yesteryear, you were conditioned to recall a childhood fraught with difficulty - of how you were surrounded by a host of hostile foes eager to bully you and tear you down. Yet you were presented with numerous accounts of how you survived against all odds. And you smile as you look back at your personal accomplishments; still a little red dot in a sea of lines and curves, but a dot nonetheless in the big wide world. This National Day seemed to have gone by for me without much fanfare. The glitzy parade and all its military and societal exhibitions, the thrills and controversies surrounding Singapore's 3rd and 4th Olympic medals, even ...

All was quiet on the 2-year-old front. The group of active, squirming toddlers seated in a wobbly circle waited eagerly, each looking forward to his or her turn to put their circular cardboard name tags up on the flannel board which the teacher was holding.  It was a moment of reckoning for Z and me. For the past 3 months in playgroup, my ever-determined son had steadfastly refused to follow the other children's leading to put his cardboard circle on the board. His highly anxious Mummy (i.e. me), eager to please and be a good student in class, had been the one to nervously take the circle from his teacher and put it on the board for him instead, when my little one refused to cooperate after a few awkward minutes of silence and gentle urging from his teachers. I was, truth be told, very exasperated by this time and wondering whether it was because Z did not know how to do this simple task, or he was simply refusing to be told what to do, in the way that t...

"I really can't wait to eat Claire's delicious dinner. She has always prepared a sumptious meal all these years... But this crazy rain seems to get heavier by the minute, and the traffic is really crazy... I wish we had arranged another day for our mentoring session..." That was my lament to Sue as we drove last Thursday to the home of Ben and Claire, the lovely couple who have been our relationship mentors even before we got married. The December monsoons had come a few weeks early, peak hour traffic was almost at a standstill, our son Z was getting a little cranky in his car seat, and we were very late - almost one hour to be precise. But the moment we entered the house, all strain and tiredness seemed to evaporate like the springtime mist. Ben was all smiles as he greeted us. "There's no need to apologise," he voiced, as we articulated the long story behind why we were so late. "What's most important is that you're here," echoed Cl...