My mother loves to tell this story about me. According to her, when I was a preschooler, maybe 4 or 5 years old, I had two pet turtles. One morning, I looked into the tank to find that one of the turtles had died. I was inconsolable. My father took the limp turtle out of the tank and placed it in a red basin. He told me, "don't cry darling, the turtle is just a little sick. I'll put him aside for a bit of a rest and you go off to school. He'll be fine by the time you get back."
So I went, anxiously, off to school. Unknown to me, my father proceeded to issue strict instructions to my mother. She was to carefully examine the turtle (which was well and truly dead) and memorise the number and location of all its spots and all other distinctive markings. She was then to go to the market and make sure that she purchased an exact replica. She dutifully carried out this mission.
When I got home, I ran into the house to check on my turtle, which was happily swimming about in the red basin. Wonder of wonders! I jumped for joy! I asked my mum, 'what medicine did you give him?' and she said, 'i put some salt in his water'. Wow!
It was many years later, and after I marinated many dead turtles in salt water in the hope that they'd 'get better', that I learned that there are freshwater turtles and there are seaturtles and that salt water is not the best medicine for a freshwater turtle.
Oh well. The point I wanted to convey is that I love animals.
There are strong indications that Ryan will grow up to be an animal lover too. We have a cat (called Tiger), a dog (called Max), an aquarium of fish and a small pond in the backyard which is seasonally populated by tadpoles and frogs. Birds are always present. Occasionally a squirrel runs across the fence. Ryan is fascinated by all of this. He shrieks in delight at the fish swimming about. His eyes follow closely when Tiger saunters past or when Max comes sniffing around. He chuckles and invites them to stay and chat with him and sometimes they do.
I'm sure that he'll want his own pet one day and I look forward to it. Perhaps I'll get the chance to heal a sick turtle or two.
October 4 was World Animal Day. To all the dogs, cats, hamsters, fish, chickens, ducks, rabbits, turtles and birds that have been part of my life, I salute you and thank you for the memories.
Over the weekend, we went to check out a new bookstore at ION Orchard. It's called 'prologue'. I quite enjoyed it, the environment was relaxed and the staff were very helpful and attentive. The photo above was taken at the entrance of the store.
Just outside the bookstore, we passed a couple walking hand in hand and I noticed the lady was wearing a pink ribbon which reminded me that October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month.
After all these months of milking, vacuuming and suckling, I have come to appreciate my breasts a whole lot more and it is really hitting home that I need to make an effort to take care of them. Inasmuch as I've been given the privileges and powers of being female, there are attendant responsibilities, one of which is to take care of my female bits.
Certainly, before Ryan came along, my bosom was important to me. After all, it is a sign of my womanhood. It was gifted to me in a decent size (thanks mom) and I relied on it to look more womanly, to look more attractive, etc. Since Ryan appeared, they not only give me curves, they are called on to feed and nourish him around the clock and to calm and soothe him when he needs security and comfort. They never fail me and they never complain.
Accordingly, my breasts have now earned an identity of their own. Previously I would have said, "thanks mom, the boobs are great!". Now I go, "thanks boobs, you guys are great!"
So, I marvel at them. I give them loving massages. I choose underwear with their best interests at heart (support! support!), instead of mine (shape! shape!). I worry at any little sign of possible droopiness from the breastfeeding and I silently, absurdly, try to motivate them to stay perky - "come on boys, don't give up on me now! no slouching! no sagging! up up up!"
Yes, I'm on the verge of giving them their own names.
I'll make a promise to these two boys of mine. I'll be good to them and go for regular checkups and mammograms. I've never had any before Ryan. From now on, I will.
Ryan goes for a session at Gymboree every weekend where he gets to play on ramps, rockers, swings and slides. There are other activities like action songs and bubble play but the main feature of a Gymboree class is the physical exercises on their equipment. Ryan has started to creep and crawl about so we are getting more value out of the sessions now.
There are so many gyms for children in Singapore now - our children get their exercise and physical fun indoors, in tubs filled with colourful plastic balls and in inflatable bouncy castles, in sterilised rooms and in air-conditioned comfort. They do enjoy themselves and have lots of fun and their parents have the security of knowing that their children are in a controlled environment, safe and hygienic.
A friend commented to me yesterday that we didn't have such gyms during our time as children and children nowadays are so lucky. I thought about it and I'm not sure I can agree that our generation was unlucky or deprived. I remember myself as a child running about in the field outside my house, climbing the trees in my front garden, doing bicycle stunts on my BMX (the most popular being cycling without holding the handlebars), rollerskating (no inline skating then) up and down my street, standing on the swings in the playground and swinging higher and higher till I was almost horizontal. Those are some of the stand-out memories of my childhood - generally just being out and about in the sun (and rain) and the open air. I had a wonderful time so I'd say I was pretty lucky too.
26 September 2009 - The Rocks Market, Sydney
25 September 2009 - Waiting for the tram outside Paddy's Market, Sydney
23 September 2009 - Grandma in Sydney
23 September 2009 - In our hotel room in Sydney
21 September 2009 - Lunch at Cedele, Great World City
19 September 2009 - At home
18 September 2009 - At home
16 September 2009 - At home
7 September 2009 - At home
17 August 2009 - Dinner at Por Kee
26 July 2009 - At home
I constantly remind myself that part of my responsibility as a parent is to pass on to my child the values and traditions of our family, race and culture. While I can send him to professionals to learn stuff like music, sports, art, math and languages, Richard and I remain the most appropriate teachers of who and what his family and community are.
I myself am a semi-stranger in my culture. I know a little here and there, a bit of this and that, but certainly not enough to be a proud spokesperson of my heritage. I can read some Chinese but not enough to read the Chinese newspaper. I know enough Cantonese to have a casual conversation but not enough to watch a drama serial without subtitles. I know that Confucius was a wise man, but I also know Gandhi and Aristotle were too. I can't tell the Ching from the Ming. I don't know the legend of the three kingdoms although I know the tale of the three wise men.
Growing up, I didn't pay much attention to my own culture and history. I didn't reject it, I just didn't take the time to appreciate it. I visited other countries. I tasted their food, read their books, watched their movies, discussed their politics and their domestic issues, learned their history and took pictures of their monuments.
So, I was always out of place. In a Western country, I am regarded as an Asian. Yet, in an Asian country, I am regarded as a 'banana' - yellow only on the outside.
I know very little about my family history. I only know that my maternal grandfather came from China. My mum is the eldest of nine children and I was fairly close to my uncles and aunts when I was a child but when they were getting married, having children, establishing careers, I was doing the same. During this time, I didn't keep in touch as closely as I should have and I missed out on many years when I could have stayed closed to them.
Perhaps I've realised that the richness of a heritage is due, in large, to its preservation. Perhaps I want to be able to lay claim to something. Perhaps I feel the need to belong somewhere. Whatever the reason, in recent years I've felt the need to find my racial identity, to fully embrace my race and my culture. I want to re-connect with my relatives, to get to know them as they are now, instead of being stuck in childhood impressions of who they were.I want to participate in family gatherings. I want to get to know my relatives - I want to know what they like/dislike, what they did when they were young, who they are now. I find myself interested in Chinese festivals and Chinese customs. I'm keeping a lookout for the perfect cheongsam.
In the same vein, I want to pass all this on to my son. I want him to have a strong sense of family, community, race and culture. This, in turn, will give him a starting point to develop an identity for himself.
So, although Richard and I normally give the Mid-Autumn festival a skip, we decided to celebrate the occasion this year, to show Ryan what it means. He may be too young to understand, but that's ok, we didn't do anything fancy. Just a short stroll by the Singapore river with the lantern. The important thing is that we did something to mark the occasion and, in doing so, acknowledged who we are.
Happy Mooncake Festival everyone!
Leo has this habit of confounding me. The seemingly simple things she and Richard tell me, often cause me to pause and think about stuff I otherwise would not. And here she is, asking me to contribute a piece, and prompting me so effectively I’ve been thinking about the topic thoughout the day and even enjoying a good sob (which I’ll elaborate later). Pardon my prose, i’ve written and edited one too many audit reports and I suspect they have a way of making me sound clinical.
I was thoroughly enjoying catching up on Leo’s blog when she asked if i wanted to write about why i did not want children. That’s Leo for you. Always multi-faceted. Many shades of grey. Very nuanced. I think most new mothers prefer to keep their baby blogs chock-full of saccharine shots of the precious one rather than consider why some lunatic prefer to go barren.
Most of my closest friends have become parents, except the unmarried and gay ones. Even the gay ones will eventually want to adopt. Each time a friend tells me the earth shaking news, I am thrilled for her. But i also feel a little abandoned. Selfish i know but hey i enjoy their company and these little ones demand so much attention, not to mention sap the energy of their parents. From experience, these parent-friends start to cocoon themselves away from the rest of the world, emerging only when the little one is more manageable (for want of a better word). And then perhaps I get some attention.
So it was tougher with Leo, because i feel very nurtured with her and Richard. I feel very pampered too. They introduced me to some of the most unforgettable films and books, and broadened my horizon in the process. But let me state for the record how very happy i was for her and Richard when i first heard the news several years back. And i was devastated when Leo miscarried. I wanted to hop on the first flight to Singapore to double-boil soups for her (i was kinda worried coz Chinese herbs and soup making were not one of Richard’s many talents). And I recall telling Leo i’d bring her a bottle of Dom Perignon *cringe* of course i meant Dom Benedectin. I was somewhat consoled when Leo sent an SMS to correct me and i had the first hint that her pain would heal.
So Ryan has arrived. And yet i don’t feel quite so abandoned. I’ve been asked to contribute a piece remember. And thank heavens, the calm and laid back character of Leo and Richard make them pretty relaxed parents who don’t fuss. And so more than ever, i enjoy their company and just feel happy watching them find their footing as parents.
I’ve digressed plenty. So why don’t i want to have children? Let’s begin with the low hanging fruits. I am quite simply selfish. I want to spend all my time and money on ME. If you have a child (i dislike children being described as kids, i remember my pastor saying years ago that children are not baby goats), you need to spend time with them else why bother popping them into the world. My gawd, children need so much attention and time. Play time, development time, bath time, study time, exercise time. And you also need time to clean and tidy after them. Where will i find the time to do the things i enjoy? I shuddered when Cat told me she had not slept more than 4 hours in a very long time when she first had her children. True enough, her children (the eldest whom i am very fond of) would knock on my bedroom door before 8am when they stay over! And i never waste the chance to remind my husband what i am sparing him by not having children of our own. Parents all tell me it’s ‘worth’ it and that they love devoting their time with their children, i’m sure but i’m not convinced.
We humans have sucked big time in slowly destroying earth. World leaders are now taking global warming seriously but still bickering and lobbying on their emission rights in the interest of economic development and prosperity. so our earth is pretty bruised and battered. Apart from considering what kind of world we bring children into, i honestly think the world population should shrink. I’ve recently learnt that a greying population isn’t such a great thing because of the pension and welfare benefit cycle. Still, just merely being alive we are polluting. From cradle to the grave, diapers to coffins, we consume and we pollute. A lot of parents i know aren’t even doing their bit in being more environmentally friendly. And they are the ones bequeathing the world to their offspring. Start by saying no to plastic bags and start recycling will ya?
And here’s the big beast of why i don’t want children. My sister and i have the most loving parents. We were so blessed to grow up in an environment where we were loved. By no means were they perfect, i think not many parents wrote school absenteeism letters coz their children tagged along for poker sessions which lasted all weekend, and which often encroached into the first working day of the week. But heck it was fun and i don’t think my sister and i turned out all the worse. Like most parents, ours were utterly selfless.
My sister and i are the centre of their world. I think this selflessness fed into my wanting to be selfish. Because i do not want to ache with the love for my child. And because i fear retribution. I do not want my children to treat me like those times when i failed my parents, when i was harsh, impatient and well, selfish.
There have been times when i realised the tone i used with my boss was far more respectful and reverential than that i used when talking to my parents. I dared snapped at them but heck certainly not at my boss. So, good sob explained. It’s shameful. Well, i wasn’t totally useless. Whilst just graduating was probably gift enough for my parents, i was so glad i took my parents abroad. My Pa had never travelled overseas and that was the only long-distance flight he took.
People say you appreciate your parents more when you become one yourself. I don’t think i need to be one to know just how confounding it is that one chooses to be a parent. To subordinate your life for another. Of course there are people who want to be parents for selfish reasons, for someone to take care of them in their old age. But that’s probably another topic for another day.
This has turned out to be quite a long ramble. I hope Leona doesn’t regret asking me to write. And to end on a positive note, absolutely heartfelt one though, i think Leona and Richard will make amazing parents. The tricky bit will be to bring Ryan up such that raising his voice at his parents will be unthinkable to him :)
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For Children's Day today, Ryan gets to open his toy that Terri bought for him from Germany. It's meant for babies older than 10 months (Ryan is just past 8) but we couldn't wait to let him have a go at it so we unwrapped it today.
Happy Children's Day!

