Mirror, Mirror On The Wall

Have you ever had those days where anything that can go wrong will go wrong?  And just when you're trying to rush something and accomplish so much, that is also exactly the time when at least one of your children will be more clingy, have accidents, and need your attention?

http://www.allfacebook.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/moods.jpg

I'm a panic parent.  If my husband and I were to be compared to natural elements, I would be fire and he would be water.  If you know me, you'll notice how my voice can go from shrieky high to big and low in all in one sentence when I'm animatedly telling you a story.  When I'm happy, I'm up in the clouds and when I'm sad, I'm completely down in the dump.  So on days that I feel I have to meet a deadline (or even just a perceived expectation), I can hyperfocus on it and panic when things don't go smoothly.

And it is during these days that I seem to hear from my dear Tweetie Pie and darling Bon-Bon things like:

"Milka-milka!" [This is Bon-Bon's cue for wanting to breastfeed.] 

[BANG! Something falls to the floor.]  "Heeeeeeelp!"

"Mamaaaaaa!" followed by "Waaaaahhhh," with a cry that will break your heart.

Haaaayyy...

And yet when I do take a moment to pause and take a step back to calmly look at the whole picture, that's when I realize how much children really pick up from our moods.

It's exactly because I'm stressed that my children also become stressed and often feel the need for assurance. It's also the same reason why a new breastfeeding mom who is worried about her milk supply has trouble latching on and getting her baby to relax and be calm.  It's exactly the reason why we can't fight or argue in front of our children.

When the kids are having an off day, more often than not, I don't really need to look far for answers.  Our children often reflect back to us what they sense from us.

Okay, I need to take a deep breath, slowly exhale, take a moment to pray, and face the day's concerns with a calm and positive attitude -- so that my Tweetie Pie and Bon-Bon can also face life with the right attitude!

Perfect Parenting?

I have a bright and bubbly six-year-old daughter whom I love to call Tweetie Pie (TP).  Her mind is constantly creating ideas on arts and crafts projects, stories to publish, and play scripts to put to life.  It's like she has, what I would call, a "light-bulb moment" almost every five to ten minutes.  It's wonderful to see how she could come up with so many wonderful ideas.  The challenge though with having such a speedy, creative mind is that one also tends to expect the implementation of these ideas to catch up with one's thoughts at the same speed.

My little TP sees a vision in her mind, quickly acts on it, and expects to have perfect results after giving it just one shot.  At the end, when she sees that what she produced turned out to be a far cry from what she envisioned, she breaks down and cries -- so much so that she will end up resigning to the idea that she is terrible at such a task and give it up altogether.

One concrete example that happened recently is when she was inspired to draw a picture of a room with a flower by the window sill and a chair beside it.  She drew something similar to this:

To our surprise, she suddenly broke down, cried, and started kicking on the floor because "it doesn't look like a chair!  I can't get it to look realistic!"

Why?  What could cause her to be so hard on herself?  This is something I have asked myself as we struggled with this concern, particularly the past two years.  However, I didn't really have to go far to find the answer to this.  The answer lies in me...

As I look into my own life, I realize that I myself have given up too easily on acting on my ideas because of immediate and high expectations I put on myself and being afraid to fail in meeting them.  Perhaps my little TP got this from me through my genes.  Perhaps she picked it up from my not-so-positive outlook in life and from the way I respond to her.

Whether it's by nature or nurture, my earnest hope is that my TP will continue to value her ideas and explore them.  But even beyond that, my hope is that she will patiently and persistently work out her plan and be forgiving of herself when she fails and love herself enough to pick herself up, learn, and try again.

The only way I can teach her to do this is to do the same for myself.  We parents can only be effective as teachers of our children when we truly live out the values we wish to impart to them.

That night, when she broke down over her "failed" drawing of a chair, I initially dealt with the situation the way I always did -- by simply telling her how she shouldn't be so hard on herself and that she shouldn't be afraid to make mistakes. And since I had repeatedly done this for several months already, it had grown to a point that she could sense the frustration in my tone of voice.  But that's exactly all I would do -- just tell her -- and then go back to whatever I was doing.  I expected her to just be able to "get it" by listening to my explanation and then move on.

It suddenly dawned on me: How can I expect her to be patient and forgiving to herself if she can't feel her own parents being patient and forgiving towards her?

And so for a change, I stopped what I was doing and cuddled her in my arms to calm her down.  Then I went to her room to get her own little wooden chair and placed it in front of her.  I patiently went through every part of the chair, line by line,  corner by corner, to help her observe and figure out how to translate this 3-D object into a two dimensional drawing.  Every now and then, she had to erase and repeat certain lines -- and I made it a point to be patient and let her know that it was absolutely okay and that she could try again.  Finally, with only my verbal guidance but with my constant presence beside her, she was able to come out with this:

It was such a joy to see her so proud of herself.  Proud, not because she was some naturally gifted artist who did a great drawing -- but because she gave herself time to work on it, erase when not, right, and try again and again and again until she finished.  Aaahhh...  THIS is what our children should be learning.

It's not about how wonderful or perfect their work is but how much heart and effort they put into it.  THAT's what I want my TP to learn.  And that means THAT is also what I must learn....

Recently, TP suddenly asked me, "Mama, what's your New Year's resolution this year as a parent?"

Gulp.  Say what? (Darling TP always comes up with such surprising questions!)  I actually began year 2012 without any specific resolutions.

But suddenly it came to me so clearly that I replied to my her:

"My New Year's resolution is to be patient, persistent, forgiving, and loving to you
[and to myself!] 

so that you may also grow up to be patient, persistent, forgiving, and loving to yourself."

Living The Dream

     We all have big hopes and dreams for our future when we’re young.  Back in high school, I remember clearly telling my classmates I would never choose to be “just” a housewife.  Yet as the time came for us to apply for college, I had no idea what course I wanted and what career I’d definitely pursue for the rest of my life.  In the end, I decided, “I will be a research analyst who will be respected in the financial world.”  It was a career I knew my parents would be proud of.

 
     Little did I realize then that it was not what I really wanted for myself.  I graduated college with hardly any passion for my course at all and slowly seeking other facets of who I was.  With my degree in Applied Economics (dropping my double major on Finance), I chose to be – to the surprise of many – a full-time mission worker instead.  Something in me has always longed to help shepherd and mentor people.

 
      And even with the heart of a mission worker, I dreamed big.  I sought to have some way to go into business and still be a source of light to people who would work for me.  I had this perception that my parents would be proud if I went into business.  Going into social entrepreneurship would allow me to do that and still fulfill my dream of making a difference in the world.  

 
     I shifted to the corporate world and worked as a merchandiser in the hope of learning more about the retail industry and eventually, setting up my own social enterprise.  In 2001, I was where I thought I wanted to be:  learning a lot from a stable merchandising job, active in a spiritual community, going out of dates, keeping fit, and spending time with my family.  Life was just the way I thought it should be.  

 
    Then, I discovered I had breast cancer.  I learned quickly that I needed a mastectomy and chemotherapy.  I was to lose a breast, shed off most of my hair, and deal with days of needle-pricking, unbearable nausea, weakness, and some months of emotional turmoil from the discomfort I’d be feeling.  

 
     I knew God had other plans for me.  The direction of the wind completely changed.  I had to let go and let God steer the boat of my life.  As my mom said, “It’s like you get on a roller coaster and you relax, let go of the handles, and let God take you on the ride of your life.”  Little did I realize that those changes were happening so quickly.

 
     Just one day after I got out of the hospital following my mastectomy, the man I had been dating comes to my house to tell me how much he loved me – that instead of finding himself veer away from me, with the knowledge of my cancer, he found himself all the more wanting to be with me on my difficult journey.  It didn’t matter to him that undergoing chemo meant a possibility of infertility.  It didn’t matter to him that my body had been altered to missing form and that I’d lose all my hair.  God used cancer to affirm the genuine love that was growing between us. 

 
     Through cancer too, my priorities in life changed.  It’s amazing what a terrible disease can do to you.  You begin to see what is truly essential in life and chisel away the things you can really live without.  I left my job to rest and reflect on where God was leading me next.  This was the beginning of my introspective search for what is truly meaningful in my life.

 
     It may seem like God took away so much from me when I was stricken with breast cancer.  But I gained so much more than that.

     Over eight years ago, I had no idea what the rest of my life would be like.  Would I still ever get married?  Would I be able to have my own children at all?  Would I still have that chance to say that I have made my contribution to help make this world a better place before I die?

     And yet… 

Today, I am cancer survivor free of any traces of the disease.
Today, I am married to wonderfully good man who shares my values in life.
Today, we not only have one, but two beautiful children – a loving, bright, and cheerful girl who will be turning five in a few months AND an adorable, healthy newborn baby boy.

     Despite the physical challenge caused by the mastectomy, I was able to breastfeed our daughter for three years and eight months.  And now our newborn son is also getting the best nourishment from nature’s best milk.

     For years I had hopes of being able to say I’m able to do something important.  I thought I had to be out there, in the limelight somehow, to be able to say that I am making a contribution to the world.  Now, I am what I once would have looked down on as “just a housewife.”

      I am a stay-at-home mom by choice – this is where I am meant to be right now while our children are in their most crucial, formative years.

      I embark on a journey of discovering how we can best help our children grow in physical, emotional, and spiritual health, that they may have the confidence to discover their gifts and pursue their desires that God has planted deep within their hearts.