Tag Archive 'children'

Sep 01 2008

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joanne-leow

Stopping at 2

Filed under mothering, politics

In Singapore, when I tell most people that I’m 28 this year and have not one, but two young children, I’m usually greeted with gasps of surprise and disbelief. I know I buck the demographic trend here; most of my peers are either single or of late, married without children, with no plans to have any soon.

There are many reasons for this, especially from the women’s point of view. It just isn’t really possible in most cases to juggle work and childbearing and rearing without paying the price for it - either in time for yourself, your spouse or your ambitions. In my opinion, the government’s recent fairly generous reform of maternity benefits, childcare leave and tax rebates to encourage couples and especially working women to have children or have more children can only work in a limited way. What really needs to be addressed is work-life balance and how women pregnant or with children are treated at the workplace, in public and in private. Recent letters and articles in the papers like “Battering Ram or Stroller” really leave me wondering whether Singapore as a country is ready for a baby boom. After all, it takes a village to raise a child.

Sometimes when I read online or print responses of people who are unwilling to accord pregnant women at the workplace with benefits or feel that they should be penalised for taking time off work, I know for sure that they don’t know what it’s like to have a newborn, toddler, young child or even a teenager. No one, even parents themselves, can really tell you how hard the first few days. months and years are of bringing up a young child. No one can really describe not getting more than 2 hours of sleep at stretch for 3 months or how post-partum body chemistry is so volatile. No one tells you just how this new human being is completely dependant on you for everything, so much so that even if you forget just once to clip a fingernail or wipe a skinfold there will invariably be a scratched cheek or an unexplained rash. And no one can really convey what it’s like to have a child sick, wan, limp with a high temperature; or even the trauma of watching your careful doctor insert a needle that looks almost larger than a newborn’s vein into the tiny hand of your baby. Having children is a decision yes, but also a sacrifice, a challenge and an effort that definitely needs more than one pair of hands, or even two pairs of hands.

My own experience? Having two is more than enough for me at this stage in my life - maybe even for good. I’ve started giving away maternity clothes and baby wear to my friends and colleagues who are embarking on the brave new journey that is parenthood. I’m glad I made the decision to have my kids early; there are some things that I’ve definitely given up, like more of a nightlife or disposable income to do what I please with. But these are nothing compared to the pillowy cheeks and rascal grin of my 15 month old and the made-up songs of my 3 year old, sung at the top of his voice early in the morning. And they’re definitely nothing compared to the hug, kiss ritual at bedtime or the little voice calling out after me “Night Mummy, Love you Mummy”.

So why don’t I want anymore? I want to spend time with each of them individually, I don’t want to get a maid, and I want to get to know these little human beings that I made properly. The reality of the situation is, we have to be a two income family and I’m not sure that I’m cut out to be a stay home mother. Throwing more money at the situation won’t solve any problems, even giving more leave - which is the better of the two ideas. But really, what needs to change are the attitudes of the people around us, our colleagues, strangers on public transport and queues. In our get ahead or get left behind city, we need to stop feeling resentment for people who get different treatment for having children.

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Jun 18 2008

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joanne-leow

of mothers and mothering

Filed under mothering

My childhood babysitter has just passed away. She was in her 90s, a strong indomitable Hakka woman who made her way from China. My mother always recounts a story where when asked about the traditional Chinese practice of confinement, she said, “what confinement? I was back to work in the fields the day after giving birth”. She took care of me before I started kindergarten, for a good 2-3 years if I’m correct. I have very few clear memories of my time in her apartment. I remember she tried to get me to eat porridge and vegetables, I remember how she held my hand to lead me away from my mother when I cried at our morning partings. Most of all I remember her Hakka, a language that I learnt and then lost when I stopped going to her place. It was the first dialect I mastered, so much so that my own grandmother had to speak in Hakka to me, because I refused to speak Hokkien. To me, Hakka is the language of my early childhood, almost of my infancy. It’s like babytalk in the most comforting way.

I continued to keep in touch with my babysitter; every Lunar New Year I would visit her small flat and bring oranges and treats. When I got married I gave her red packets of money and when I had babies I brought them to see her. Even my husband would ask whether we were going to her place if we hadn’t gone by the second day. She became frailer at each visit, grasping my hand each time though, recognising my changing face. Even when she was bedridden she remembered me in the haze of her pain and medication.

I can’t quite describe how I feel that she’s gone now. Her life at the end was difficult and not something I’d wish on anyone. But I can still hear that calm singsong Hakka in my head, comforting me, lulling me into naps, coaxing me to eat, gently scolding me if I did something wrong. I can still see her freckled wrinkled face spreading into a gap toothed smile each year when she saw me, pushing the plate of biscuits or tarts and a packet drink into my hand.

Now that I have my own two boys, I sometimes wonder about the memories I’m leaving for them - how they will remember their early childhood.

I often get asked why I had children so young and how I cope with my work and childcare. Well, the short answers to both questions are because I wanted to and planned it that way, and well, it’s hard to cope but I have help from my mother and daycare.

the boys

It’s sometimes crazy, infuriating and downright frustrating having a 1 and 3 year old. Sometimes the office seems like an oasis of calm compared to the controlled chaos at home. And juggling work and family life is challenging and tiring but rewarding ultimately. I’m glad that I’m working because I feel I’m able to filter down the richness of my experiences to my kids. My learning on the job contributes to their learning too. And of course I am financially independent and dependable - should anything happen to our ability to have a two income household because of illness or unforeseen accidents.

My husband recently took the kids by himself to Italy for slightly over 2 weeks to visit the grandparents and have them run around in fields and get the hands into the vegetable patch and fruit trees. Some of our friends thought he was kind of crazy to do so, but really, that’s the kind of shared parenting that makes our marriage really precious to me. And even though the house has been extra peaceful and quiet in the past weeks - I can’t wait until I have my boys back at home, bringing the house down and my messy noisy life back to its normal wonderful state.  I hope my old babysitter would be proud.

 

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