Competitive Mums

As an incentive to getting their times tables right, Beth's class teacher has been giving out MTKs (Multiplication Table Kits).

Once a student is able to recite the entire times tables by heart in front of the class, he/she gets the MTK.

It is considered a milestone as here in Australia there is less of a pressure on students to perform and to achieve to a set standard. (Singaporeans will know what I mean.)

In Beth's class, an unusual situation has developed.

She is in a 2/3 composite class, with half the class made up of Grade 2s. Many of them were hand-picked for their ability to learn independently and think laterally. In other words, they're smarter than the average Grade 2. They read at the same level as the best Grade 3s in the class and are eager to follow in their footsteps.

Among them are 4 or 5 Grade 2s who are so good at math they received their MTKs right after T did. T is a Grade 3 boy who has consistently done well in math since he and Beth were in prep together.

I know several of the mums of these promising Grade 2s. Both are Asian. (Think "tiger mother".)

One of them expressed surprise one day when I corrected her assumption that Beth had already received her MTK. She was obviously pleased that her son, who is a year younger, had outdone Beth in math and music. She has never attempted to hide the fact that her son considers Beth an academic rival and uses her as a benchmark of his progress.

In the same breath that she mentioned her son was inviting Beth and T to his birthday party, she said he had specially chosen them because they are his "competitors".

I laughed then.

But reflecting on the remark and the values and beliefs beneath them, I also feel a tinge of sadness.

Because while academic striving is a good thing (and trust me, I know all about this), life is so much more than our grades and our ability to achieve milestones ahead of our peers.

Topping the class is a great feeling, but it's not the most important thing about school.

Ultimately, most of the class will get 'there'. Some of us just have a talent for getting there quicker. To my recollection, no employer has asked me "So how old were you when you mastered your times tables?"

I have always encouraged Beth to do well at school, at her Chinese lessons and her music practice. Sometimes, I fear I push her too hard. So lately, I have tried to counterbalance this by scaling back on my expectations of her AMEB piano, and to not make a fuss if she chooses to practise just 2 pieces instead of all her pieces and scales,or if she practises for 15 minutes instead of 30. Instead, I tell myself it's good that she at least put in some effort to practise.

As a Singaporean parent, I have definitely regressed in my standards.

It is only this year, being faced with mums who clearly have similarly high expectations of their progeny, that I have come to appreciate the double-edged nature of academic competitiveness.

I ask myself if I want Beth to pay the price I did as a student.

So I feel compelled to take a stand against mindless, at-all-costs striving where there is no time to take a breather, no space to celebrate and marvel in your persistence, hard work and achievement, no opportunity to take stock, no time to have fun.

I'm against the relentless forging ahead, the constant dissatisfaction with your laurels, where one is driven not by the desire to live fully to one's potential but by fear that one may 'fall behind' if one fails to 'keep up'.

Even though it feels like I am betraying my tribe and my upbringing, and even though I have no clear idea yet how I will do this, I choose what I hope is an alternative path - a better way - for my children. One that comfortably integrates academic excellence with excellence in all areas of life: health, wealth, relationships, career, spirituality, contribution, self-expression, creativity.

Beth made a startlingly self-aware statement tonight.

"I admit (pause) my music needs work."

She proceeded to the keyboard to warm up, playing some random tunes.

Then she quickly went through her Solfege and Repertoire pieces, spending the most time polishing Comical Train, the ensemble piece the class is performing for the annual concert.

And that was it.

She was off to watch bits of Sinbad with Daddy and to do a bit more of her school assignment: writing about the national anthems of different countries.

I have consciously decided to hold back on the nagging and guilt trips and threats. While I cannot understand how my child can be so laid back and not want to excel at her music, I realize also that she is different from me and what worked on me (nagging, guilt trips, threats) won't work on her.

As they say, insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.

Perhaps as she matures, she will come to realize that excellence requires doing the hours and applying oneself consistently.

For now, I choose to close one eye and be contented with the fact that she is doing well at school and in her Chinese lessons.

Good News Gang

To ease Beth into her future school environment, hubby and I have decided to let her resume attending Good News Gang at Suburban Baptist Church from now on.

Last night was her first GNG session this year.

Good News Gang runs during school term every Wed from 7-8.30 pm. Most kids that go are either from HCC or GNLS. Under supervision, the kids play games like Port/Starboard, learn Bible stories the hands-on way (with the story of Elijah, they built a fire outside and burned a plastic toy cow!), enjoy snacks and drinks, make new friends and generally have a ball. They are divided into small groups according to their ages, so Beth gets to hang out with her school friends, plus other kids from GNLS.

Beth used to go to GNG with her best friend K, with K's mum cheerfully running a taxi service and picking up various other kids to go along. But K and Beth are in different classes this year, and the opportunities for interaction have been fewer. Which also means each of them has moved on and made other friends that they now spend more time with.

I used to be anxious about Beth's emotional and social development as she is an introvert like me, who takes ages to warm up and show her friendlier side. She doesn't even do hugs. She just stands stiffly with arms by her side and lets her friends hug her. A real durian.

Anyway, yesterday morning we met K at school and I nudged Beth to go over and ask if K was going to GNG. K said yes but she couldn't take Beth because she was taking Z and one more person would make it too squishy in the car.

When Beth came back with her report, I made a concerned comment, thinking she might feel rejected by K.

To my surprise, Beth said that was okay.

And she smiled.

Cheerfully.

Then she waved goodbye and went on her way to get ready for the morning line-up.

When I told hubby, he commented: "She has matured."

Good news indeed.

Music for pleasure

Life has been more pleasant since I let go of the reins of supervision and involved hubby in Beth's keyboard practice.

Now he takes her to Sat morning class while I go for my dance class.

When she practises, he calls out encouraging comments from the couch.

He doesn't tell her how to play, unless it's something explicit the teacher has recorded in the notebook.

I've taken a leaf from hubby and scaled back drastically in my tendency to nag and criticize and to never be satisfied with anything less than perfection.

The result: practices are less tearful for Beth and less stressful for me.

I love seeing her take more initiative in how she practises, like when she explains why she is playing a certain way and what she hopes to achieve.

With her AMEB piano, I still take a more active approach, playing duets alongside her and setting high goals. It's very frustrating having to 'lower' myself to her level and watch her struggle with her sightreading and neglect her scales, or when she can't 'get' a particular rhythm.

Now and then I ask myself if I'm making her do AMEB for her or for me.

Am I putting her through the hard yards simply because I had to do them when I was her age and it's the done thing?

But it's been worth working at a more balanced approach to parental involvement.

And I have my dance teacher to thank. Because she changed the session time from 12.30 pm to 11.30 am, I have an 'excuse' to let hubby be the one to take Beth to Yamaha.

Learning/Teaching piano to the 4 yo

Am v excited to see Miss J show an avid interest in learning piano.

She has been working out the notes with the help of this handy aide by Duanne Shinn.


She's been 'working through' Beth's old Yamaha books - Rollercoaster, Happy Elephant, Whales' Sneezes and all that - including the accompanying DVDs. Her enthusiasm is as real and palpable as her big sister's bo-chap "I am doing this because you forced me to" attitude towards music.

I am learning to accept that #1 is primarily motivated by Art and Books and #2 is the one who has the greater probability of excelling in Music.

We have a secondhand violin which was given by my BIL and Miss J says she wants to learn violin (too).

Am now looking out for a good (Suzuki accredited?) violin teacher in the western suburbs.

Holding back on the Heathdale vs Good News decision

After what happened on Thu night, hubby and I are leaning towards the idea that it might be better to let Beth continue at Heathdale. She seems to be doing so well, has developed a little circle of good friends, and Heathdale does seem to be catering to her academic bent. It would be a bit of a shame to tear her away.

Pity about the fees. It's the biggest push factor.

Over the hump

We've achieved a major breakthrough.

After the school tour yesterday, a serious discussion before bedtime and again this morning, Beth has not only agreed to transfer to Good News Lutheran (if accepted), she even suggested transferring in Term 3 2011 instead of Term 2, so she would be able to complete the Naplan test under the auspices of Heathdale.

She even joked about having two different uniforms within one year.

Thank you God. Only You could have worked such a miracle of acceptance and openness in Beth's heart.

How to get a distracted, disinterested child to practise for a piano exam

Have discovered that the best strategy for getting Beth to practise is to catch her in a good mood, keep her that way with lots of positive strokes and humour (no matter how quirky or silly), and have short intensive bursts (such as during commercials for X Factor) rather than long sessions (anything more than 15 min straight) at the keyboard.

It's taken a long time to refine the strategy down to these terms.

The exam's in four days, but as they say, better late than never.

I'm gonna restrain myself from any negativity between now and Friday and just encourage her to offer her best.

She went for her second Solo Festival at Yamaha yesterday. I was so relieved that her performance went pretty well, considering how she's been temperamentally. She definitely redeemed herself after the disastrous rendition of Menuett by Mozart three months ago.

Mum the music coach

I am donning my coach hat as Beth's AMEB exam looms.

This requires a different approach every day, because her moods are as predictable as Melbourne's weather.

Yesterday was horrible.

She played so badly during her weekly lesson with her teacher.

And in the afternoon, she had a meltdown when I insisted she practise. She banged violently all over the keyboard like she was trying to destroy it. My mum would have had a fit if that had been my response to being told to practise! (Then again, I was such a compliant kid, I would never have dared.)

Today, she dawdled and delayed. She wouldn't put down the book she was reading. Then she took extra long in the bath. Practice time which was meant to begin at 5.30 started at 7.30.

But when she finally got round to it, she actually put in a decent performance with her pieces. Which just goes to prove she's got it but just needs to focus and be more disciplined and consistent.

I got Beth to commit to an hour of practice every day from now till 19 Nov.

She could decide how she wanted to space out her practice session: 4x15 min, 3x20min, 2x30 min.

She chose 3x20min and wrote out the practice times on her chalkboard.

Tomorrow, we begin.

The Terrible 8's

Maggie Alderson's article You Can't Take It As Read in last weekend's GW was HILARIOUS.

Our children are of us - but they are not us. They are entirely separate beings. My daughter is 8 years old now and I'm still trying to get a handle on this.

She might have been referencing Khalil Gibran:

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

http://www.katsandogz.com/onchildren.html

After all the travails with Beth over recent months, I finally feel vindicated.

It's not my fault - it's cos she's 8!

Learning Parental Wisdom From A Non-Parent

Our house guest shared some honest insights about our girls after observing and interacting with them through the week.

About B, she says that we give in to her too much.

For instance, if B can't find her socks/school pants/jujitsu uniform, her first reaction is to ask Mummy for help. And Mummy (Daddy too) generally stops doing whatever she was doing to help find the missing whatever.

Two nights ago, A imparted a valuable lesson to B.

On my way out to pick up J from daycare, I told B to get dressed for jujitsu class. Instead, she went to Aunty Annie whining that she couldn't find her outfit.

A just looked at her and said, "So how?"

And didn't offer to help.

B was nonplussed, and after a few seconds, figured out what she was meant to do.

After searching a few different places, B was still unable to find said outfit. By now, she was getting panicky because A asked why she hadn't dressed like Mummy had asked her to.

B said she'd searched everywhere: the clotheshorse, the ironing basket, her closet...

Only then did A relent and offer to accompany her on her search.

Moral of the Story?

Hubby and I need to let go of our need to be "good" parents and let B experience what it's like to solve her own problems.
Otherwise she'll never learn. She'll be this "lembek" damsel in distress, always depending on someone else to fix things when she gets into difficult situations.