Little Cheerleader

One of the most lovely things about being a mom is having your kid cheer you on when you're trying something new.

Last Sat, I hung out my L plates and took over the wheels when we were out looking at houses in the new Wyndham Waters estate.

Hubby and I jokingly told Beth to "hang on tight"; after all, it's been more than a year since I sat in the driver's seat.

As we took off at a leisurely 30 kmh and hubby instructed me to turn left, right, go round the roundabout etc, do a 3-point turn etc, Beth was shouting from the backseat, "Mummy, how did you do that?!" "Mummy, you're driving!" "Great job, Mum!"

She can't WAIT for me to get my driving licence...just so I can drive her to school. Apparently the 15-minute walk to kinder is just too much for her "weak legs". ;-)

And The Weather For Today Is...

This evening, I was reading a Yahoo 7 article about an ongoing whale rescue in south Sydney, when Beth took a sudden interest in the weather section.

We looked at the major Oz and NZ cities first.

Then she wanted to know about the weather in other parts of Australia.

It was a good thing I didn't get annoyed, because I learnt some nifty new things myself. Such as that ACT is more than Canberra. There are other regions like Hall, Curtin and Jervis Bay, and the hottest of these is Curtin (with a low of 22 deg and a high of 38! Gasp!).

This led to an inspired briefing about how Australia is divided into regions like a jigsaw puzzle is divided into pieces (NSW, ACT, VIC, WA, TAS, SA, NT, Norfolk Island & Queensland), each of which has its own capital city.

Then she asked me how to spell AUSTRALIA, and requested I write it in jot-the-dot fashion in both upper and lower case, so she could learn to write it herself.

And that's how a lot of learning takes place with Beth. Pretty much self-directed and just-in-time. Hopefully she will be able to learn just as well at school.

Negative Inheritance

I realized this evening that Beth has inherited my decision paralysis when, on her way out with Dad, she broke into hysterics because she COULD NOT DECIDE which book to take with her.

My heart broke as I watched her choose first Book A, then drop it and grab Book B, then reach for Book C, and finally cry in frustration and leave WITHOUT A SINGLE ONE, as Dad impatiently warned that he was leaving without her.

My poor perfectionist child.

It is obvious where she got this trait from. I cannot make on-the-spot decisions for even the most trivial things (what to eat, what to wear, what to bring when I leave the house) without worrying that I will make a mistake, a wrong choice or forget something. I will have to sort out this aspect of my life quickly so I can help her overcome it.

Funniest Home Moments

Retelling an incident involving the kids always seems more rewarding than the actual incident.

During dinner this evening, I started telling hubby about how Beth had once again wiggled out of bath time, despite promising to take her bath after watching ABC Kids.

"Do you know what your daughter did?" I casually said as we started on the first of 2 Domino's pizzas. "She slathered herself with QV Cream so that I wouldn't be able to make her bathe!"

I started laughing even before I could finish, overcome by the ridiculousness of it all. CA burst out laughing.

And the culprit looked very pleased with herself.

Same occasion.

We have a friend who is bringing back a violin for Beth from my BIL and SIL in Sg. CA and I have been teaching Beth that she is supposed to say Thank You to this friend as well as to Aunty Hin Ping and Uncle Cheng Wah when she gets the violin, and that her usual "I'm shy" excuse will not be accepted.

"If you say you're shy, I'll just take your violin and give it to another child who's less shy," I said, feeling very pleased with myself for my clever thinking.

"I will follow you wherever you go," came the immediate rejoinder.

"Is that a threat?" I demanded, even as CA and I started laughing.

"....And see where you put the violin," finished Beth.

Into The Naughty Room

I finally had to do it today - and I can't believe how rotten it made me feel.

It started with Beth insisting on using my laptop to watch her Wiggles DVD when I'd repeatedly told her she could use the portable DVD player. Her reason? "I don't like the DVD player," she wailed.

It got so bad (she really is one stubborn, feisty 5 y.o.) she was actually wrestling me for the laptop, pushing me off the chair, making a grab for the tablecloth. I explained to her it was wrong to insist on having her way at all costs and that she had to wait if she wanted to use my laptop, and gave her a first warning. If she disobeyed, she would have to go straight to the Naughty Room.

She fought me all the way down the hallway to the NR, thinking it was a game - she was giggling and resisting me fiercely and trying to barge/wriggle past. We played Dodge'em for 2 minutes before I bodily lifted her 20 kg frame (while worrying I might injure her) and deposited her on the carpet of the NR, and told her she was to stay there for 5 mins. Then I shut the door.

After 3 mins I heard the door open and there she was coming towards me.

"I'm hungry," she sobbed piteously. "I need to eat something."

I told her there were 2 mins left to go and placed her back in the room.

It was heartrending & gut wrenching to hear her cry but she has to learn that when Mummy says NO she means NO and it's not a game. This is one of the hardest things about being a parent and certainly one of the things I hate most. That unbending will of hers needs to be broken and channelled in more positive directions before she turns into a real brat.

OK, 2 mins up. No sound from the NR. Mummy's off to extract the required apology and soothe/feed her precious now.

Afternote:
It's incredible how quickly kids forget. So much for fearing she would be traumatized. After apologizing to Mummy for her misconduct, she was back to her sweet self for pretty much most of the afternoon...until bath time, which is another story.

Music & Early Learning

Today, we're listening to Prokofiev's Peter and The Wolf.

It's my umpteenth time and Beth's first. What surprised me was that she was able to listen and identify what character was being played by what instrument while busy with her latest craft project (to do with monsters and aliens).

Children are so wonderfully open and receptive, and their little minds, if left to flourish, are full of creativity and insights.

It's this precious ability I'm trying to preserve, without succumbing to the temptation of overstimulation or excessive intervention.

I want Beth to enjoy music for its own sake so that her life will be richer and fuller, to be able to sing to pitch and play a tune without being burdened by formal lessons and exam grades.

She wants to learn so many things! To dance. To play the drums, guitar, violin, flute. And I want for her to do whatever she most enjoys, as long as she is happy and thriving.

Father Forgets by W. Livingston Larned

Reflection:
2 thoughts came to mind when I read the piece below, which was quoted in Dale Carnegie's How To Enjoy Your Life And Your Job.

1. The Bible says, "Fathers, do not exasperate your children, or they will become discouraged." I suppose the same extends to mothers. :p
2. I am guilty of expecting too much of Beth sometimes, of being annoyed and impatient when she seeks to engage me in her world just when I am preoccupied with mine (doing the chores, reading a book, writing), of being naggy and critical about the small stuff. I have to watch myself lest I end up pushing her away. It won't be long before she decides she doesn't need Mummy's affirmation or company anymore.

Listen, son: I am saying this as you lie asleep, one little paw crumpled under your cheek and the blond curls stickily wet on your damp forehead. I have stolen into your room alone. Just a few minutes ago, as I sat reading my paper in the library, a stifling wave of remorse swept over me. Guiltily I came to your bedside.

There are the things I was thinking, son: I had been cross to you. I scolded you as you were dressing for school because you gave your face a mere dab with a towel. I took you to task for not cleaning your shoes. I called out angrily when you threw some of your things on the floor.

At breakfast I found fault too. You spilled things. You gulped down your food. You put your elbows on the table. You spread butter too thick on your bread. And as you started off to play and I made for my train, you turned and waved a hand and called, "Goodbye, Daddy!" and I frowned, and said in reply, "Hold your shoulders back!"

Then it began all over again in the late afternoon. As I came up the road I spied you, down on your knees, playing marbles. There were holes in your stockings. I humiliated you before your boyfriends by marching you ahead of me to the house. Stockings were expensive-and if you had to buy them you would be more careful! Imagine that, son, from a father!

Do you remember, later, when I was reading in the library, how you came in timidly, with a sort of hurt look in your eyes? When I glanced up over my paper, impatient at the interruption, you hesitated at the door. "What is it you want?" I snapped.

You said nothing, but ran across in one tempestuous plunge, and threw your arms around my neck and kissed me, and your small arms tightened with an affection that God had set blooming in your heart and which even neglect could not wither. And then you were gone, pattering up the stairs.

Well, son, it was shortly afterwards that my paper slipped from my hands and a terrible sickening fear came over me. What has habit been doing to me? The habit of finding fault, of reprimanding-this was my reward to you for being a boy. It was not that I did not love you; it was that I expected too much of youth. I was measuring you by the yardstick of my own years.

And there was so much that was good and fine and true in your character. The little heart of you was as big as the dawn itself over the wide hills. This was shown by your spontaneous impulse to rush in and kiss me goodnight. Nothing else matters tonight, son. I have come to your bedside in the darkness, and I have knelt there, ashamed!

It is a feeble atonement; I know you would not understand these things if I told them to you during your waking hours. But tomorrow I will be a real daddy! I will chum with you, and suffer when you suffer, and laugh when you laugh. I will bte my tongue when impatient words come. I will keep saying as if it were a ritual: "He is nothing but a boy-a little boy!"

I am afraid I have visualized you as a man. Yet as I see you now, son, crumpled and weary in your cot, I see that you are still a baby. Yesterday you were in your mother's arms, your head on her shoulder. I have asked too much, too much.

Map Your Mind

Was thrilled to discover Tony Buzan's Mind Maps For Kids at the library. Wish I'd had access to such a resource when I was in school! I'm sure I would have learnt much more in less time.

This morning, Beth and I worked on her first Mind Map. We decided on the theme "Bethany Loves...". Coming up with the list was the easy part. Music. Dancing. Watching TV/Videos. Painting. Craft. Beth drew her face in the centre of the sheet and I helped her draw the branches and write the ideas/sub-ideas.

The tricky part is using icons and drawings effectively in place of words to represent ideas. I have yet to master this one.

This technique will make learning a joy when Beth is introduced to the humanities subjects in school.

Supernanny @ Work

Have been watching the Supernanny DVDs which a friend at church lent me after hearing about my struggles to discipline Beth.

Just watching the parents in the videos made me emotional. I couldn't believe what terrors some of the little tykes - as young as 2! - were. There were the 24/7 hip-clingers, the parent-beaters, the sibling-stompers, the watch-me-disappear-out-the-door 3 y.o.s...It was incredibly painful, so imagine how desperate the parents themselves must have been to ask Supernanny into their homes.

SN was very consistent about what an effective household needs:

1. A routine that works: Children need structure and variety, so everything must be written down and a time slot assigned - bath, bed, snack, play, meal times.
2. Discipline: holding the child accountable for every instance of unacceptable behaviour by coming down to the child's level, maintaining eye contact and administering the first warning with an explanation of what the child has done wrong, followed by the Naughty Step/Chair/Mat/Room Technique if the child fails to heed the warning.
3. Lavish praise for each time the child obeys you on his own, shows initiative, demonstrates independence.
4. The Roaming Technique for kids with a tendency to run amok in the supermarket/park.
5. The Give-him-some-space Technique for the little one who insists on being stuck to your hip all day.
6. Bedtime technique: how to put your child to bed and get him to stay there. This was a real challenge for some of the parents. One little boy came out of his crib 37 times the first night!

My current issues are lack of STRUCTURE in Beth's day, and lack of consistent ENFORCEMENT of discipline.

So I've been working on those. I did up a roster that starts with Rise&Shine at 7 and ends with Bedtime at 8.30. In between, there are times for Maths, Reading, Chinese, meals, bath, TV, breaks, snacks, play, art&craft.

We started today and right now, we're about 2 hours behind time (:p), but Beth is getting on well with her numbers, and we're both learning patience and perseverance the FUN way. For e.g., her '2' comes out like 'Z', so I told her '2' looks like a swan swimming. She happily produced a line of swans all over the paper. I also made sure to praise her for her efforts and to reward the completion of a page with a Good Work! sticker of her choosing (which the developers of the textbook had kindly provided!).

Just in the last 1/2 hour, she has learnt number sequences, how to join 2 dots with a ruler, how to write tricky numbers like '2', '5', '6', how to count in reverse, how to guess the next number in a double digit sequence by looking at the 2nd digit (e.g. 17 comes before 18 because 7 comes before 8).

This morning, she dragged her feet about washing her face and brushing her teeth. I got down to her level, looked her in the eye and told her she needed to brush her teeth and why. She rolled her eyes, whined, sulked and did everything she could to stall, but after about 4 such attempts she finally nodded when I said she had to brush her teeth NOW, and I walked her to the bathroom. Of course, it would be nice if she'd do the brushing herself (which she's well capable of), but we're working on that too.

This SN stuff WORKS :-)