Parenthood 101

A long discussion with my husband the other day engenders new feelings about being a mother. Or precisely it encapsulates a defining moment on parenthood. The feelings were there, I suppose, just latent and waiting for the right stimulus to bring them up to the surface.

Whenever I look at Sadia sleeping soundly on her tiny little mattress, I liken her to a blank canvas, eager to be imbued with many different colors representative of experiences, values and ideas that she will absorb in her lifetime. How the finished painting will look like depends largely to the kind of parents she live with.

This leads me to another question: Is our parenting style shaped by our own upbringing? In the course of being a parent, are our actions colored by what we were exposed and conditioned to as children? For instance, if our mother is never close to her father, will we turn out to be the same? Or in terms of personality, if our father is a womanizer, will we grow up to think it’s fine to have affairs? In the same vein, if our mother smokes, will we too follow suit?

To some extent, I believe, there are truths to these various statements. But when we, as children, see the pains and shortcomings that come with a particular behavior or event revolving our parents, we will resolve to do the opposite. It’s akin to a defense mechanism against those that challenge our loved ones or set of ideals.

I truly come to a realization that day – my own kid will take cues from what she sees and listens. Our behaviors, belief system and principles significantly affect the kind of person our child will turn out to be.

And if the choices that we’d made fall below our own expectation s, how we ensure that our kid doesn’t make the same mistakes? For example, if we are not close to our siblings, what sort of values must we instill to our children so as to make sure similar scenario won’t happen? Like the oft-cited Malay saying goes, “Meluntur buluh biar dari rebungnya,” which more or less, means “To change a person, we must do so from infancy.” This adage originates from the belief that it’s quite difficult to change when we’re adults since we are already set in our ways. Echoing my earlier statement on children’s keen observation on their parents’ behavior, I solely believe a person, given the circumstances and wisdom of age, can change. Maybe I’m just being idealistic.

Every parent wants the best for his or her children, no matter how long the hurdle and impossible the task. However, due to the subjectivity of what ‘best’ means and entails, one must exercise great caution in playing parent, and face each situation with a pinch of salt. Always follow your gut instinct. And in case of doubt, do seek help and opinion from an experienced, respected parent. But do impose a caveat on yourself – nobody’s perfect, even a parent. Therefore, have your intuition handy to fall back on if your parenting model couldn’t come up with satisfactory enough answers.

Growing up I always think my mother is right. I respected her words, her actions, and her opinions. She was an epitome of what is right and just. But as I grew older and formed my own opinions, I realize she is not always right. I even surprised myself by coming to this deduction. The security of her wisdom evaporates from my thought slowly but surely. At first, I was perturbed by the discovery of my mom’s culpability, but as time goes by, the discomfort gives way to tolerance.

As adults, we now agree to disagree on certain issues and no matter how grave the crises, I always respect her as my mother – the person who nurtured, raised and comforted me. She was always there when I needed her. I find that by dehumanizing my mother – not putting her on a pedestal – I get to know her better as a person with her own set of quirks and foibles.

I would want my child to be close to my husband and me. I’m not close to my dad so I want to remedy that with my kid – making sure all lines of communication are open to air out her grievances and complaints, if any, and to share her enthusiasm and spunk with us.

Being a parent is not easy – a gigantic feat to carry – to be an accountable role model whose values are espoused by your children. My husband and I ended our discourse by reaching an obvious yet far-reaching conclusion. We just become the “best” versions of ourselves to our children so that they will gladly imprint our ethics and principles into the core of their being. Add a dollop of faith and walla! God willing, our children will turn out alright.

In Short(s), A Robbery

Funny that I wrote a topic relating to home in my previous blog as if my sixth sense was switched on for what was about to come next. But then, one usually says this kind of things on hindsight.

Monday, 24th July marked the 5th month anniversary of Sadia’s birth. My husband and I (and Sadia) left around noon to go for our usual mall-hopping and to buy a small dessert to celebrate Sadia’s 5th-month-day. We arrived home about 4:30 in the evening and everything was fine – I was trying to put Sadia to nap whilst my husband planned to download the new CD he had bought – the Soundtrack of Memoirs of the Geisha – into his Ipod. But he couldn’t place the Ipod. He was sure he left it in the bedroom.

While I drifted in and out of sleep with Sadia, he checked everywhere for the blasted thing and even scoured his car twice. It was nowhere in sight. It was strange indeed.

I decided to intervene and help since at times I have a knack of finding missing items. I went to the room where we hanged our laundry to dry to look for his shorts. The knee-length shorts which I finally managed to wash that day, after a few months of mucky condition since he wore them to death (pardon the expression). I was afraid I might have missed one of the pockets when I emptied its contents before putting it into the washer and his Ipod, albeit broken, might hopefully be in a pocket.

But I couldn’t see his shorts on the rack where I had hanged it. I looked out at the window that I had opened so as to dry up the clothes faster. Had it flew out the window? But that’d be next to impossible. The trajectory of any wind, either strong or weak, will never cross the path of that green shorts from where I hanged it.

So I asked my husband who was wearing different shorts (for once) if he had hanged the shorts someplace else. Where’re your shorts? How should I know, he replied.

There and then, we realized something was amiss. I quickly checked my undergarment drawer – some of my gold jewelries were gone! And my husband’s watch (the one I gave him as a wedding gift) was also missing. WE HAD BEEN ROBBED!

We tried to assess what else went missing. Ipod’s gone, along with my husband’s Sony Ericsson phone charger. This was bizarre, since my charger which lay besides his, was still on the floor. The un-cultured thief must have thought the charger was for the Ipod since it has a small opening that might fit the Ipod. Duh!!! Our passports were accounted for – thank God! – it’d take ages to get new ones (to go to Holland) if they were stolen due to immigration’s security reasons. And of course, the darn shorts were filched.

The thief had come in through our open-air utility room’s door. Somehow, he managed to vault from a nearby fire escape’s window into the ledge that led into our backdoor. We had left the door ajar because we had just finished washing our clothes. The washer’s hose (the washer is INSIDE the kitchen), that drained out the water into a man-made hole located in the utility room, straddled in between the door and its edge, thus deterring us from having any real inclination to close the door. By the by, we were also comforted by the fact that our apartment is on uppermost floor - the 19th floor! Little did we know a desperate petty thief would have the guts to leap from that height!!!

The moment I realized our house had been violated, I got goose-pimply all over. It is a scary, spine-tingling experience. I’m still more or less traumatized by it – wanting to make sure the backdoor is locked all the time.

The next day, we bought and installed latch-lock and metal door stopper that were screwed on to the backdoor. Also, we even hired a welder to construct and assemble grilled-like cages to seal the ledge in the utility room and to enclose the immediate area leading to our entrance door. It’s not cheap but our safety comes first, especially now that we have a baby.

As for the shorts, we are still both baffled and amused that he took it. Maybe, during the intrusion, he was wearing pants that didn’t have pockets. My husband would like to think it’s because he thought it was fashionable enough for keeps. Fashion or not, the idea of one day seeing him in public in that shorts is creepy! I might beat him to a pulp on sight!

I’m still angry that our sentimental items are gone but I thank God that we are safe. Who knows what happened if we went back home a bit earlier. We’re already on the way back actually when we decided to divert to new ‘Tesco’ – a Brit-based hypermarket – that just opened in Ampang. God knows better. I am grateful to Him for the divine intervention.

Hmmm, perhaps I should post a photo of that shorts so that you guys out there can inform me if you stumble into one that resembles it. Any volunteers?

AF Fever anyone?

Being ensconced in the comforts of my home following childbirth, I cannot help but to catch Demam Akademi Fantasia (‘AF’ Fever)! Yes, I’m not shamed to admit it – I’m hooked on to the show - its gimmicks, antics, melodramatic host and all. A singing competition reality show, which has a huge fan base since its inception in 2003, follows the daily travails, heartaches and exhilaration of 12 lucky students. These students were meticulously (or so they said) selected by the show’s producers – affiliated with Malaysia’s prominent local cable company ‘Astro’ - after undergoing rigorous auditions and a series of elimination processes. After sealing their fate with Astro, they would stay at this makeshift academy (or bootcamp) for about 10 weeks under the tutelage of accomplished teachers.

The daily progress in question comprises two half-hour shows that are screened from Monday to Friday and lets the audience in on the students’ song assignment and their development in musical, vocal, dance and other performing arts classes. On Saturday night, a weekly concert will take place during which one student will be eliminated. Each week, a student will be axed from the show, based on the lowest SMS vote at the end of the concert. The process will continue until only 3 to 5 students are left (I say 3 to 5 since Astro varies the format of how many people will go to the Final concert).

The show works for the first two years but by the third year, in my opinion, the format has become quite stale and formulaic. Now in its fourth year, Astro tried to boost the ratings further by changing the line-up of teachers and ‘pengetua’ (or headmaster), much to my dismay. Astro should have instead varied the methods used by the teachers, or the class setting, rather than resorting to making changes on the surface.

I rather like the teachers during the early years – Cikgu Siti Hajar, Cikgu Adnan, Cikgu Fatimah and my favorite Cikgu Ramli M.S. The new line-up, in my opinion, emphasizes more on the cosmetic and aesthetic appeal of fellow teachers. I even question the credibility and experience of some teachers. For instance, I find Cikgu Fazli’s ‘square’ and dull methods in motivating the students don’t measure up to the techniques used by Cikgu Fatimah.

Also, the chosen headmaster, Mr Ramli Sarip, is quite uninspiring and unapproachable as the head role model. He is better at singing than handling this bunch of up-and-coming singers. From my observance, he is quite detached (in spite of the guitar sing-along session and one-on-one talk) and awkward with the students. It was like seeing a fish out of water. He doesn’t look comfortable heading the place and being under the constant scrutiny of the cameras. However, truth be told, one must give him credit for trying to do his job, the level best.

Another annoying factor is the many tie-ins to sponsoring companies like Friskies, L’oreal, to name a few, which cause a distraction to the students as well as tv audience and not to mention, serving any purpose (well, except for sponsored money, that is). I’m fine with their generous contributions but when they start to encroach on the students’ daily activities (like having a make-up class or tae-kwondo demonstration) it becomes quite grating to watch.

The phenomenal success of AF hinges on the likeability and popularity factor of its students. Their day-in, day-out practice, struggle and ‘character development’ have become a part of fans’ psyche even before the first concert started. Astro’s clever publicity skills play an important role in building the hype for AF participants (not to mention, milking money from SMS votes, SMS real-time chat and other SMS AF-related contests).

More importantly, to me, the show works on the grass-root level because it gives us folks an avenue to vent out, lash out, root for, cry for and empathize with the plight of their favorites. For some people, AF carries them away to an alternate reality, far from their own problems and worries. For others, it fills a void in their lives. The goings-on in AF consume them! Consumption sadly can turn to fanaticism which brews trouble when fans resort to name-calling and other ugly tactics.

Notwithstanding AF’s shortcomings and flair for the dramatics and no matter what our motivations for watching, it is an entertaining program that pulls out all the stops to ensure that we the people have a thoroughly enjoyable time.

Quicktake: Pedantically speaking…..

The English language is a marvel to learn and grow up with. I find the wondrous and infinite number of ways to describe and emote in English liberating. It covers many different grounds and levels of communication. Essentially, English gives me a free rein on expression and emotion that I am unable to personify in my native language.

Depending on the geographical locations and the strong presence of local accents, people learn to speak and enunciate English words in a variety of perplexing ways. Also, anomalies (or inconsistencies, if you may) do exist in word pronunciation to which I find rather beguiling and amusing.

One such word is ‘porpoise’ which I stumbled upon a few weeks ago. Porpoise refers to a species of marine mammal that happens to be a cousin of the dolphin. Since it is spelled the same way as tortoise – I had assumed (wrongly) that the same elocution applies and it would be undoubtedly pronounced in a similar manner.

Alas, I was corrected by my pedantic significant other (thanks much hun! ;) ) who informed me porpoise is enunciated as POR-POISE, whilst tortoise is pronounced as TOR-TEESE.

Perhaps, the difference lies in the fact that these animals represent two extreme poles of mammals - one on land and the other in water. Hmmmm…..

Or possibly, the word por-poise somehow finds its origin to the word POISE, which means an easy manner of carrying oneself. Maybe porpoise is such a graceful mammal of the ocean - hence it was magnanimously bestowed with that name?

In a similar vein, the word TEESE (in pronouncing TORTOISE) has its own weigh (pun intended) in history. According to my Google search, TOISE (or as it is pronounced TEESE) is French’s unit of measurement which has since become obsolete.

I guess the French has some ‘bearing’ in confusing non-Native English speakers the multitude of ways to pronounce what seems to be innocuous-looking English words.

One however must bear in mind that throughout history, English (and other languages) do borrow words from other languages. So, does this mean we have to blame and admonish every language for creeping its way into English? One can only imagine how long the discourse would take.

In the end, we can only articulate the words but whether it is the right way to verbalize is another issue altogether. So if one fine day someone corrects the way you speak English, don’t react or assume the worst! You might learn something new. And be thankful for the lesson. In the mean time, one can only pray that those phonetically-challenged words would be dismissed as garbled and slurred speech! Hehe.