Prediction vs reality

Recently, I read about a mother's woe on her blog that her Daughter just would not sleep at night. She consulted countless Doctors and Psychologists, she tried all the recommended measures but her Daughter was still not sleeping. As a result, she (the Mother) too had not been sleeping well for the past 5-6 years.

Sleep-deprived and exhausted, she decided to try one method which all the sleep Therapists had recommended as the last resort, which was to lock her Daughter in her own room and let her cry. 

'Once she's spent all her energy, she will settle and fall asleep' so they said.

So she tried it. She sat outside her daughter's room and she listened to her Daughter's pounding against the door, screaming and crying, terrified that everyone had left her. The little girl scribbled notes of 'I'm sorry' and slipped them under the door and asked 'did I do something wrong?' repeatedly while her Mother sobbed her heart out on the floor. No one in the family slept that night. 

She tried the same thing the next day, as advised by the Therapists, and once again she sat outside the door sobbing while her little princess screamed in terror on the other side of the door. As the Mother sobbed, it then hit her that she had been wrong all along. All the Doctors and sleep experts too had been wrong. What she had done was to apply all the 'standard' measures which were predicted to work on her little girl just because they worked on other children. Instead of trying to understand her daughter's fears, the Mother had caused more fear by applying the wrong method. 

I do not know whether the Mother finally found the solution to her problem, but I felt I could relate to her story in many ways.

Firstly, because of my character, I like to plan ahead. So I would plan for every little thing up to the Colour of my baby's socks and expect that everything will just fit into my plan including my (now) 11 months Son. And like every new parent, I like to predict. I predicted Anders would accept the stroller after being in the carrier for 6 months. He didn't. I predicted that Anders would be comfortable sleeping in his own crib after he turned 8 months. He didn't. I predicted Anders would love solids after his first taste at 6 months. He didn't. I predicted Anders would be comfortable with his Father so I could go for my weekend jogs. He didn't. 

I also vowed that Anders would never see the light of any IPads nor handphone, that I will not turn him into an Ipad baby who is always too engrossed with the screen to notice his surroundings. Now, although still used sparingly, I welcome the Ipad just so he would sit in his car seat without squirming to get out.

Another way I could relate to the Mother was that Anders, too, was easily frightened. When he was younger, sudden noise could set him off crying for a whole 30 mins long. He was particularly afraid of the sound of plastic bags and the shower. He was and still is afraid to be left alone even for the shortest time and because of that he clings to me almost all the time.

I used to get really upset when all my predictions did not turn to reality and sometimes I would be really frustrated with Anders for being difficult. What i had done was very similar to what the Mother had done in her case, which was to impose all these 'predictions' formed through general standardisation by baby books, baby applications and as such onto my little one, who has a personality of his own. I failed to see him as a person, an individual with his own likes and dislikes. Instead of trying to learn more about him and understand him, I expected him to fit nicely into the picture I had painted with all these sets of predictions like a loose puzzle.

I am not saying to stop reading all the information you can find in books and on the web about raising a baby. You need all the information you can find to feel more equipped to face the challenges of motherhood (and fatherhood). I agree that knowledge is power. But in this case, we have to be careful not to make the mistake I and the Mother in the case above had made. Let the knowledge we have be a guide for us to know how to love, understand and accept our children for who they are. Let it guide us to allow our tender ones to grow and discover the world at their own pace. 

#babyanddog

For those who follow my Instagram account, you would have known that I dedicated my account to capturing the relationship between my 11 month old Son and turning 2 year old puppy. My hope is that Anders learns how to love animals and the meaning of trust and loyalty through his interaction with Summer. 

Now there were 2 recent incidents which led me to blog about this topic in my almost non-existent blog. The first was a message I received from a stranger who followed my posts. She was 7 weeks pregnant and had a 4 months old shiba puppy. She wrote that she was very concerned about the puppy when she found out she was pregnant but upon seeing my photos, she began to believe that her puppy will also be able to love her baby. 

The second incident was a video I received from my Mother-in-law, of a baby crawling and touching a huge dog innocently in the kitchen. Judging from the way the baby approached the dog so comfortably, I assumed that that was not their first encounter. The dog looked at the baby and allowed the baby to touch his/her paws while the Mother continues to record the scene with her phone. Within just a split second and without any prior warning or signs, the dog snapped and grabbed the baby's head in his mouth and dashed off, while the Mother screamed in terror and the baby wailed in pain.

My first reaction to the video: my heart almost stopped beating and I shut it down immediately. The image haunted me throughout the day. And I began to question myself, is friendship between a dog and a baby purely a romanticised notion which the media has instilled upon us? A relationship between a canine and a tender baby, is that even possible? Am I putting Anders at risk?

I showed the video to my Husband, and he kept silent after watching it. We began to worry each time summer came close to Anders. We made summer sit far away from Anders. As much as Summer has been neglected due to our work routine, we began to exclude her more from our lives. 

One day when we were on our way to work, my husband asked me why is Summer behaving differently? She's no longer as excited as before. I told him I did not notice the difference. 

During lunch, I was surfing Facebook when my colleague tagged me in an old photo of summer when she was probably 3 months old. In that photo, she had a huge grin on her face. Then it hit me that I have not seen that grin for a while now. And the feeling of guilt and shame began to overwhelm me as I tried to recall the last time I had cuddled with her.

#babyanddog could really be just a romanticised notion all along. As a Mother, how can I ever put my baby at any possible risk not knowing for sure when Summer could or would snap like the dog in the video? But what about Summer? Am I less of a Mother to her than to Anders just because she is a dog? Will my initial love for her be replaced by the fear that she would one day harm Anders?

Difficult questions I have no answers to. It is easy to neglect a dog because they can't complain Nor voice out their sadness. It is easy to turn a blind eye to the dog especially when you are exhausted and all you want is sleep. When the dog's behaviour changes, we conveniently use that as an excuse to put her up for adoption or in some horrible cases, put her to sleep. 

No. That will not happen in my house. Forging #babyanddog may be really difficult at this stage when Anders is still very young. But I believe as he grows older, he will gain a Friend who will stay by his side for life. For that to happen, I must now play my part as a Mother to the both of them. 

To those out there who want the same thing in their household, I urge you to rethink and re-evaluate before bringing a puppy home. It is not all good and dandy, it is not a bed of roses as you have seen in the pictures. There are a whole lot of hard work, sweat and even tears in making it work. The lives of the canine are as precious as the lives of your babies.

Support

Comes in many forms and types of gestures. It does not matter how it is expressed as long as it is done with sincerity and genuine hope for that somebody to succeed and achieve her dreams. Sometimes it is done almost very silently.

I must say that I am blessed. Although I do not have large groups of friends from many walks of life, I realised that I do have the few that would support me in whatever I choose to do. These are the few that will always believe in me and my capabilities even though we may not see each other or talk to each other as often. For that, I am thankful :)

The NT looks fine

She said to me this morning.

And it kept repeating in my head. Despite how bad my head is pounding, my heart cannot stop smiling.

The NT looks fine. The NT looks fine :)

Him: Do you pray?

Me: no, my mum does.

Him: why not? Other people's prayers are not as strong as your own

Me: a mother's prayer is always the strongest. So technically I don't have to

Then it struck me. Shouldn't I be praying then?

Second chance

I feel like I am given one. And I am genuinely happy. Despite the flu I am having right now, I feel like the top of the world. 

My earliest memory of the late Mr Lee Kuan Yew

Was the man who cried.

I came to singapore to pursue my studies when I was 15 as part of a programme. I remember very vividly how the entire group was ushered into a theatre-like room with a screen playing a black and white documentary. Being so unfamiliar and foreign in this new country, I had no idea who the crying man was. I remember the scene when he expressed his disappointment and despair as Malaysia so foolishly kicked Singapore out. Back then I thought to myself, 'Is this guy for real?'

As I got to know Singapore better, I learnt about all the rules in this so-called sterile environment. I learnt about the criticism that the late Mr Lee was a control freak who controlled his people like machines. I read articles written by famous artistic professionals on how the repetitive public housing has marred the streetscape of Singapore. I heard expats expressing their dissatisfaction on how uptight the country was. My impression of him did not get any better.

Now that he had passed on, I begin to understand what he had done for the country, how much lives he had touched and how courageous he had been as a ruler. People from all walks of life suddenly regard him with utmost respect and praise him for his contributions. And I wonder, why only now? Why do I only hear all the positive remarks about this great man after his passing? Why do Singaporeans keep complaining about him and his rules when he was still alive?

It saddens me that some of you did not appreciate the kind of ruler you had until it was too late. Maybe you should try living with our ruler for a year or two to truly understand how lucky you were. But it also touches me to see how most of you are so affected by his death that you make the effort to queue and wait for 8 hours in the hot sun to pay him your last tribute and respect. And the genuine tears I see streaming down the cheeks of old men and women waiting to pay their tributes made my eyes filled with tears. An old man said to the reporter,'the perspiration on my forehead as i wait in the queue is nothing compared to what he had done for us'.

I hope his passing teaches us a great lesson to appreciate the things we have, the people around us and the safe environment we have been living in. I hope it will make us hesitate and think the next time we have the urge to complain. This is the first time I am witnessing Singapore mourn and weep as a nation, a soft side I have never seen before. It is only appropriate as she has lost her founding father. But I do hope she will continue to place trust in her current and future rulers.