Resolution for the new year

Another year is passing. Time to take stock of how I fare as a father. I am not one who is good at remembering things. I try to remember my childhood experiences, I stare through my mind's eyes into blank spaces. Even for something as recent as the past year, they all fleet past like a blurr. All I see in the memory's landscape are the images of moments spent with my children - bantering, chatting over dinner, traveling in the car - normal regular things, but mostly happy times dotted with laughters, for which I am thankful.

As I think about resolutions as a father for the coming year, I think about one specific area that I have not looked into carefully enough over the past years: reading. Well, for my youngest 4-year-old, he has not started reading on his own yet. So for him, the resolution is straightforward - to help him learn to read in the coming year. For all his older siblings, they all picked up reading by reading the same book many times. They progress from listening to me read, then fill in every last word of every page, to filling in every last word of every sentence, to finally reading the whole book to me. once they can read a book, they tended to progress reading other books quite quickly. I might try the same process with him.

For the number 3, she is 10 and reading - too much. We call her a bookasaurus: she devours any book that comes her way [at one point, she was out of books to read and picked up a Christian philosophy book that I was reading, but didn't get very far!]. for her, I need to direct her reading so that she makes good use of her reading time - so that she doesn't read trash. There are two types of books we want her to read more: Chinese books and good classical literature. For the former, we haven't been able to make much headway until recently: she took interest in the justice pao series on DVD; it makes the transition to reading about justice pao (in Chinese) easier. She surprised us by reading a library book on justice pao without much coaxing. For the latter, we need to pile her library takeaways with more meaty reads.

For the number 2, she was a book lover when she was younger. Sadly, with the pressure of schoolwork, she has been reading less for the last few years. It doesn't help that next year is her O-Level year. For her, realistically, she may have to read on things she hopes to develop interest in further.

For the eldest, it is even more challenging - as he sits for his A-Level next year. Still, I think he needs to set aside time to read. I think in particular about the following year when he would be enrolled for national service. That will be a place where his morals would be be tested. I should encourage him to read about things that will strengthen his foundational values.

For all of them, I need to work harder to get them to read the bible more consistently. Being a Christian family, we are ultimately guided not merely by 'what works', but by how God designs us to function. Without which, we will all lose our sense of purpose and direction. It must start with the father setting the example ...

Thoughts on festive days

Tomorrow is Christmas day. I am quite happy - to have an extra day of rest from work and to spend time with my family. I suspect there is at least one other group of people who is much happier: retailers. One only has to pass by orchard road to know this. Hordes of people cram into shops to buy Christmas presents. It is usually a double windfall, because those who receive gifts usually return gifts. This is the time of the year when retailers pose double digit growth in sales. They are truly the ones who sing "ho! Ho, ho!" - to their banks. But from a consumer perspective, I fail to see why I should contribute to this consumerism. A typical person cracks his head to think of what the children need (actually most singapore children have hardly any real needs) but buys a gift for each of them anyway. Many people are essentially receiving presents they do not need (and often reciprocate the same to others out of courtesy).

well, this explains why I do not buy my children gifts for Christmas. So far, they haven't been complaining. Will my children interpret this to mean that I don't love them? I don't know. I hope not. I trust they understand that dad shows his love to them in other ways and at other times, not necessarily during Christmas. I am also aware that there is social pressure to conform - "you know, every other child is getting presents, how would my children feel?" I am not exactly sure either. I guess it is something they learn to cope with time: about not needing to conform to the rest of the world.

Talking about social pressure, there is another retailer-happy day where there is even greater social pressure for me: valentine's day. From the early courting days, I told my wife we would not observe it - for the same reasons I gave above for not conforming to Christmas giving. I have so far convinced my wife that I can show love to her in other ways and on other times, not necessarily on valentine's day. So far so good ...

The last frontier - Chinese new year - is the most difficult to conquer. I will risk the wrath of my parents and my in-laws if I don't buy them bakkua and goodies. Since it is once a year, I will not fight this one ...

Like father, like children?

My wife and I were having a chat a few days ago and we chanced upon this topic of how we thought some children we know are so like their parents. "they are so quiet ... Just like their parents"; "he is very temperamental, er ... Just like his father." after a while, as we scanned our minds for the young children/teens we knew, it seemed we could articulate for almost everyone the image of some imprints of their parents in them. We come to the conclusion that, whether we do it consciously or otherwise, some parts of our character or way we deal with things rub on our children. It is not surprising. We are with our children everyday. They observe our actions, the way we talk, and how we cope with problems of life. After a while, it becomes their default mode as well. Like what others say, our children do not learn from what we tell them, but by how we live.

This is scary. because it means that the unconscious learning of the children does not discriminate between our good traits and our weaknesses. we cannot simply assume they pick up all our strengths and filter off our undesirable attributes. This means that I cannot exhort them to be disciplined and make good use of their time while I waste mine away in iPad games. It means I cannot urge them not to be selfish while I am not considerate in the things I do. It means I cannot scold them for not talking nicely while I raise my voice around at home frequently.

For that, I asked my wife to tell me what some of my weaknesses are for a start. She pointed out that I tend to be defensive when i am adjudged to be in the wrong. I argued immediately against it. Well, that proved her point, actually. I guess I need to be conscious of my habitual weaknesses so that I do not model wrong behavior to my children.

But really, I guess the more important thing is to present our genuine human face to our children and confess openly to them our imperfections as persons and as parents. And that, if they rely solely on us as models for good habits and behavior, they will soon be disappointed. I don't think it is necessary nor good for us as parents to give the impression that we are always the best examples for them. If there is one thing we can be example of, it is that we accept one another lovingly as "work in progress" while we set our sights firmly on the One who should be our true absolute standard.

Parenting: intuitive or counterintuitive?

What is your first reaction when your 4-year old son falls from his bike and looks like he is struggling very hard to get on it again? I caught myself doing something very unusual when that happened to my son a week ago. I was a few steps away from him when that happened. I just stayed where I was, look at him - and did nothing. In fact, one passerby who was a few yards behind me rushed forward and offered to pick up the bike for him. I gave him a wry smile and said, "thanks, but it's ok". He look puzzled and walked away. I wouldnt blame him if he whispered some unspeakables about me being a father.

At that moment, a thought came to me in a flash, "why help him if the struggling helps him learn to cope on his own?" in any case, he was not hurt nor in any danger and sweating out a bit wont hurt him. I guess I am becoming the kind of father that wants my children to figure things out for themselves first before they seek help from others. I am hesitant to send a signal to my children that calling for help should be their first resort when they are faced with difficulties. I would rather they work hard on it first before they know they need additional help. I watched my son struggled a while with his bike. He looked at me for a while. I stood where I was and urged him on. He pulled his bike up after a few tries. Hopped on it and cycled off. I then thought to myself, "this isn't so bad. I should do this more often!"

Then I reflected and realized that on too many occasions, I rushed to the aid of my children too rashly. This is true at different stages of their growth. Putting on shoes for them, buy food from hawker centre for them, find out information for them, help them in their homework etc. Very often, I don't stop to think if it is really helping them when I rush to their aid at the first signs of need/trouble. Perhaps this is a basic instinct as a parent to protect and provide for our children. This is certainly necessary when they are helpless in the early years. But as they grow in strength and intellect, it will not be doing them a service by making them rely on us parents at the first signs of trouble.

There is perhaps a deeper psychological cause to this instinct of rushing to their aid: I want to ride to their rescue because that makes me feel needed and important in their lives. And, as a father, deep within, I want to feel important to my children. Frankly, it is nice to feel important and being recognized as such. But really, if not moderated, it is an excuse for feeding my pride.

Honeymoon, again

My wife and I did something we have not done for 12 years: go for an overseas holiday without the children. We just returned from an 8-day trip to Melbourne. The first time we did this was when our second child was about 3 years old. After that trip, my wife felt so guilty about leaving the children behind while we enjoyed (she thought it was irresponsible for her to do that as a mother) that she told me that she wouldn't want to do that again.

Well, she obviously changed her mind this time. I guess, partly, the children are now older (although our youngest is only 4) and so she might not feel so guilty, assured that perhaps the older ones would help take care of the younger ones. The main reason is that she is now more convinced, over the years, that spending time with her husband alone is not a luxury but a necessity for marriage and the family.

We enjoyed the trip. We didn't do sightseeing as we are quite familiar with Melbourne and its surrounds. We were instead spending time catching up with friends and with one another. It is a good break just to be physically and psychologically away from the children for some time - just two of us doing what we like together, just like newlyweds. It feels like another honeymoon. I should do this more often with my wife.

And, thankfully, the children were well and happy when we returned.

Doing our best in everything we do?

Lately, I have been thinking about whether some moral principles which we were taught from young and which we still hold dear are still relevant for our children. We are constantly reminded that "times are different" and so we cannot assume what works in the past (for us) will still work now (for our children). While I think that this argument had often been taken too far (because many worthwhile principles in life are timeless), it might indeed be good to re-examine these principles before we affirm them again.

I think, in particular, of this saying, "do the best in everything you do". I should think that very few of my contemporaries will challenge the truth value of this statement. I would even think that many of my peers who are successful in their careers today would attribute their success largely to this maxim of hard work in everything they did/still do. On the other hand, I seem to see more and more people - adults and teenagers - who abide by this adage literally tending to experience great stresses in their lives.

I guess, as a principle, it is hard to fault - hard work is necessary for much of successes in life. But I am beginning to see that it is in the application of this principle that may be the crux of the matter. If we take a 'narrow' application, meaning, we do literally EVERY piece of task to the best of our ability, we may find ourselves not having enough time/energy to finish all the work we intend to accomplish. I take the example of my children doing homework. I used to tell my children that they must do EVERY piece of homework given by their teachers to the best of their ability (well, that was what I did when I was a student). But in the last school semester, I began to notice that one of my daughters (who take my advice literally) has been sleeping Way past midnight consistently. I initially chided her for poor time management. But after some careful observation, I realize that she was just trying to do what I told her: to de EVERY piece of homework to the best of her ability! It just dawned on me that perhaps this is one situation where the era change should cause a rethink of a principle - in my time, there was less homework and so I can afford to do very piece very well, but perhaps in my daughter's generation, where there is much more homework (of every kind)it is more important that she learns to prioritize and thus learns to devote more time/energy on the types of homework that is worth spending more work on.

I guess I am now advocating a 'broader' application of this principle - in the modern era where work given usually requires more time to complete than what is available, doing the best in something (eg, being a student) requires that we know which aspects of the thing we need to work harder on (eg, doing homework that will really help us learn the subject better), and which aspects we should do bare minimum for (eg, homework that are repetitive drills of skills that the child is already proficient in).

It is perhaps even true for parenthood. Sometimes I try to do EVERY thing in parenting to the best of my ability. In the process, I get tired, recreationless, mentally intense, stressed, and thus easily agitated - then messing up the relationship I have with my children. On this sense, by trying to do every part of parenting well, I did not do the overall work of parenting well. I am trying to learn that parenting is also about knowing when to 'let go' so that I van have the time/energy to focus on the substantial work of building strong relationships with my children.

Re: Holiday plans

As mentioned in my earlier blogpiece on 22 Oct about my family's "holiday plans", we just reurned from a 1-week trip to northwest Thailand (within the province of Chiangmai). The highlight of the trip was a 2-night stay in a farflung village much away from the 'realities' of modern city life. It was a hark back to the kampong days of Singapore in the sixties (my wife grew up in a kampong). There was no electricity supply in the whole village of about 40 families. All of them live mostly on subsistence farming and in wooden huts. In short, we felt transported into an altogether different world. In this world, none of the 'skills' we possess apply - we can't do any of the things they do every day: farming, rearing livestock, erecting/repairing their huts, setting fires for cooking etc. We were totally dependent on their generosity for our daily provisions.

We were thus understandably concerned about how my children (ages 4, 10, 15, and 17) would fare under such circumstances. Surprisingly, they adapted very well and very quickly. They blended in with the children quite nicely and played with them very happily. On our departure, we can see that the children there were quite sad to see us go. My wife and I gave each of my children a score of 9 out of 10 for adaptability (the 1point deduction comes from their avoidance in visiting the toilet there). I was glad that we made the decision this time round to change the destination of our yearend holiday to a place that is radically different from places we went in the past. All the children said they enjoyed the trip and would like to return to stay longer next time. We might do just that next year ...

Meanwhile, I gave my wife a score of 5 out of 10 for adaptability. As a kampong girl, I expected much more from her. Her inability to sleep well and her refusal to 'paktoh' with me along oneof those mountain roads were disappointments. I gave myself 10 out of 10 for adaptability. I did all that a kampong boy would do with great courage even though I did not grow up in a kampong. [my children, though, protested. They gave me 0 for having involuntary bodily seizures when the first scoop of cold mountain water landed on my bare body during bath time. That I was woken up by the crow of the rooster at 3 am on both nights worked against me too ...]

Holiday schedule?

School holidays have officially started for all my school-going children. As I reflect, one of the bugbears of school holidays is that parents and children share different images of holidays: parents think of it primarily as a time for catch up on worthwhile things that children have no time to do during the school term, such as studying the weaker school subjects, enlarge their out-of-school knowledge by reading widely, help up with housework etc; the children, on the other hand, think of it primarily as a time to catch up on fun and play. This contrast of views can result in many a conflict situation in the family.

Over the years, I have learnt to accept that, after each academically demanding and physically draining semester, the children deserve some good rest and clean fun. The concern, of course, is the balance - that they don't play too much to a point that the 6-7 weeks pass them by without them feeling that they have also profited in other ways.

One thing that I recommend to the children to help in striking this balance is to sit down, draw up a list of goals to achieve in the holidays, and craft a holiday schedule that helps achieve those goals. In the earlier years, my eldest son would complain that he doesn't like this exercise because he doesn't feel he wants to be restricted by a plan - to him, holiday, by definition, means freedom to do what he likes at what time hen likes. My answer to him was that, contrary to what he thought, having a plan frees rather than restricts. The example I gave was that if I had made a plan of what to do for the coming week, it would mean that I have allocated time slots for all the important priorities in my life, including slots for rest or recreation. In addition, these planned rest slots would have been inserted only after taking into consideration slots for other worthwhile work. Thus, when I actually follow the schedule and go for these rest/play time, I don't feel guilty that I will neglect the other things because I know that I have made plans for them. This means that I can play with full "freedom" without the mind bugging me with thoughts like, "are you sure you can enjoy? Have you done ...?"

After some time, my eldest boy bought in to the idea and practice of having a holiday plan. He says now that it helps him to be more disciplined with the use of his time. Apart from setting aside time for work revision, he is putting in other worthwhile slots like reading spiritually enriching books into his schedule. He is now trying to persuade his younger sisters to do the same.

Education of the children: who bears the ultimate responsibility?

My elder daughter (number 2) looked very thoughtful after family worship last night - the family usually sits around the table and do bible reading after dinner. Then commented, "dad, I realized that my school is trying to take over the education of every thing. Grooming, social etiquette, sexuality. Even how to brush my teeth - as in, I remember that in primary school. But aren't they supposed to be taught in the family?"

I gave my view: by right, ultimately, the responsibility of education for children lies on the shoulders of parents. Over time, partly because of the growing demands of work for the parents, some aspects of the education are neglected. From time to time, these areas of negligence are reflected in nationwide social problems such as higher rates of sexual activity among increasingly younger teens. When it blows into this magnitude, the state sees it not merely as something the family/community must fix but it gets elevated to a state effort. This usually means the burden falls on the Ministry of Education - that is, school teachers. This explains why, over time, the scope of what teachers have to teach has expanded quite dramatically. Apart from the subject areas, they go into sexuality education, national education, entreprenureship education, and - most recently - holistic education, among many others. But as the schools take on more of these educational roles, parents tend to take that as a signal that since the schools are doing the education - and seem to do a much better job than the parents -they are quite happy to delegate more and more educational responsibilities to the school, thus feeding into the cycle.

I asked my daughter if she likes it this way: the school taking over more and more educational domains beyond the traditional. She gave a mixed response. She understood that the school has far greater resources than the family. For example, she can't imagine the family can provide her with the level of dance support she is now getting from the school. But as to other things that are more values-based, such as sexuality education, she can sense that there is tension between what was taught in school with what we uphold in the family. She realized that the underlying world views are fundamentally different - one based on pragmatism alone and the other based on following the design of the Wise Maker.

I think my girl is growing up fast.

Constantly stimulating our senses

Do you agree that children today (and perhaps, adults too) are often over-stimulated in their senses? Children shuttle among electronic gadgets, tv-watching, computer screens, fun-filled activities, one after another often without breaks seeking after constant stimulation of the senses to excite. One of the most frequent complains of children and teens today is, "so boring!" - which I interpret to mean, "why nothing else to stimulate me?" I am not sure if this hunger for constant stimulation is good for them. In some sense, we can all be addicted to such stimulations so much so that we suffer from 'withdrawal symptoms' (such as sudden dip of interest levels, ie boredom) which then leads to crave for more such stimulations, thus feeding into the vicious cycle.

I guess the greater problem is that it robs a child of the other more important disposition of "quiet contemplation" -something I find somewhat a lost art today. Personally, I find that quiet moments to read, reflect, and pray are very important times for me. It helps me calm down, examine whether I have been doing/thinking aright, challenge my time allocations against my priorities, take in other points of view, and resolve to change course where necessary.

Sadly, these 'unexciting' dispositions are not in vogue today. It does not help that some
educators inadvertently encourage a lifestyle of over-stimulation by accepting that "children learn differently these days. Don't expect them to sit down and do one thing at a time. It is fine if they blast the music, open multiple chat windows on computer, do SMSes with friends, surf the internet, and study at the same time. This is the new norm of multi-tasking". I am not sure about that. All the disciplined people I know are the ones with high levels of concentration that allows them to go deep into their areas of specialization. Having thorough knowledge of something requires sustained, focussed, and often intense and undistracted attention into details. It is hard for me to imagine a person who habitually 'multi-task' will build the right habits of concentrating for long spans of time.

and so I am somewhat wary about starting my children off on a lifestyle of over-stimulation.
just a week ago, my eldest son asked for a 3G phone with a plan that allows him to go online. I was caught in a dilemma: I know that having such a phone in his hands is equivalent to having a 24-hr temptation for over-stimulation. This is especially worrying, knowing that he will sit for his A level at the end of next year. On the other hand, at some point in time as he grows up, the discipline must not be externally-imposed but rather from within, and he
needs to learn to deal with it gradually over the years ahead. He has so far been a rather contemplative person. I was really afraid that the smartphone will change his lifestyle altogether and take this precious part of his life away from him. I shared to him freely all my dilemmas, worries, and fears for him but left him to make his decision. I felt I had to let go ...

He decided to go ahead and he is holding the phone now. As expected, he is spending a lot of
time with it. I pray it will not consume him. I am not sure if I made the right decision ...

An activity that all in the family enjoy

My family spent the whole of the Deepavali holiday at Gunung Lambak. It is ok if you have not heard of the place before - we hadn't heard about it too before we got there. It is a mountain near Kluang in Johor. Not a very tall mountain - about 510m, it stands roughly 3times as tall as Bukit Timah Hill.

I was actually very apprehensive before the trip. I wasn't sure if pur bodies can take the climb. Although it is not a very tall mountain, those who have conquered it (or did not conquer it) told us that it is very formidable - with its steep slopes and all. I am not sure if we have the physique to take it on. I was particularly worried for my last two children: the youngest is only 4 and the number 2 is not used to physically straining activities - a bit of a xiao jie. I was actually prepared to bring these two down halfway if they really can't handle it, although I did not tell them that as it would Lunt their resolve.

As it turned out, some things happened as expected. There were parts of the mountain that were really discouraging. You would look straight up (at 60 degrees gradient) and can't see the end of the slope. At those points, my heart sank and I felt like backtracking. There were many junctures where I could hear is my deep breathing and nothing else. My way of coping with it is not to look up but just tell myself to put one foot ahead the other and keep repeating this step without stopping.

Well, some things also turned out unexpected in a pleasant way. My youngest not only did not have any problem with the climb, he was in fact at the head of the pack - hopping and leaping as if he was in a playground. my number 3 also surprised us by shouldering on despite being full og mud all over her clothing - she was on all-fours at some very challenging parts of the climb. We usually think of her as one that whines over the smallest discomfort. This time, she really took it all in her stride. It is nice to be pleasantly surprised by our children every now and then. It also reminds me that I should not put an artificial lid on my children's abilities all the time. Over-protection may not do them good in the long run.

As I reflect, it really feels very satisfying to have the entire family do a climb like this -together. I am reminded that such occasions may become rarer as the time passes - my oldest is already 17 and so getting him around family activities will become an increasing challenge. The fact is that it is hard to find activities that everyone in the family (ranging from 4 years old to 17' not including the parents' ages) enjoys. From this experience, mountain climbing is one such good candidate that does the job. It is nice to see that all of us enjoyed the climb and fond satisfaction together.

On hindsight, one regret is that we have not done such all-in-family-enjoy type of activity together more often. If you are a reader of this blog OECD and have young children, do take more time to do such activities with them.

Holiday plans

Now that exams for the children are over and the school term winding down, my family turns our thoughts to our family holiday. This year, we are doing something quite different for our family trip. In the last ten years, whenever we go to a further country, it tended to be a developed country with modern facilities and good traveling accessibility. This time, we are spending a week in a rather underdevelped place near Chiangmai, Thailand. The villages that we are visiting are near the Thai-Myanmar border and mostly occupied by descendants of Myanmese refugees. It is a contact that we obtained through friends in our church - the ministries in the communities there are partially supported by the church.

One reason we are taking a departure from the usual tour places is that we want our children to experience third world conditions - and thus have a good dose of different realities that children around the world are facing. It occurred to us some time ago that while my wife and I experienced life from third world to first world as we grow up in Singapore, the same can't be said of our children - they have only seen the first world Singapore, and is thus easy to forget that their life experiences are actually quite unique relative to that in many other parts of the world. We think it is important to bring home to them that millions of other children live an alternative lifestyle - that of far fewer resources and far greater
constraints - and yet stay happy and contented. We hope they will learn that we can live happily with far less material resources and that adversities can strengthen us.

We think there will also be many opportunities there to enjoy the simple, price free and yet priceless things of life - the waterfalls, the mountain trekking, the birdwatching, the football, the interaction with local children. Perhaps, through these experiences, we will also learn that the best thongs in life need not of the expensive-latest kind.

But actually, now that my wife and I have enjoyed first world luxuries for so long, we are perhaps the one who can't re-adapt back to basic amenities. Pray for us.

Using material things of this world

I believe that material things - such as houses, cars, creaturely comforts, good food, fat salaries - will not give lasting satisfaction. I learnt this at a very young age. When my mum bought me a toy, it usually satisfied me for a short time - and soon i will be looking for something better and more fun. I guess this is true for adults too. Many of us never seemed satisfied with our pay packet, the types of houses we live in ... we want more. This appetite for material things will only spiral ever bigger with every temporary fulfillment but will remain insatiable. I believe that when God creates us, He leaves within our souls a spiritual longing which material things can never satisfy. Thus, with respect to material things, more is not always better. It is more important to learn contentment with them than to desire more and more ...

But how do I impart this contentment in my children? They live in a world that is materialistic and consumeristic. The people around them look so happy with the new dress and the fancy electronic gadgets in their hands. It is easy for them to believe that by having those same things that others crave for, they will naturally be happy too.

Certainly, it can't be done by denying our children of all requests for material things. I dont think the point is just to be frugal.  Neither is it about feeling guilty when we enjoy them. rather, the message i really want to send consistently to my children is, "it is nice to enjoy material things - of course, when we can afford it. But we must watch against a tendency to go for one dress after another, one gadget to follow-up the first, one upgrade after another ... because this kind of lifestyle signals a fundamental problem: that we are seeking to find satisfaction primarily in possessing material things."

Actually, between the last paragraph and this line, there was a time gap of a few days.  I went away for a few days to think about this issue.  It dawned on me that the strongest message that our children receive from us is not from what we say to them about these things; I think it is from our actual priorities we make as parents in our daily lives.  Surely, if I display to them every bit a chaser of material satisfaction, then I cannot expect my children not to do the same? 

What do my children see about me?  That I was most satisfied when our new car arrived? That i was  jumping with glee when the ipad was delivered to me? Or, do they see satisfaction in my face (and soul) when my wife gives me hug when I return home? A quiet smile when I finish a prayer?

Parents under examinations

Is the exam period a big deal in your family?

For mine, it is a pretty big deal. I suppose the best analogy is one of 'battleground'. Preparations usually start about a month before 'battle'. That is when we begin the 'drills' - doing one mock test paper after another. The frequency of the drills accentuate as we get nearer the exam date until just before the exams - the children feel like they are reduced to mere robotic mode: studying and doing papers day and night. During the battle, they suffer from all kinds of symptoms, ranging from pretend nonchalance to extreme anxiety. They often return from the war zone reporting that they have been 'killed'. On rare occasions, we receive the good report of 'killing the paper'. In short, it is a stressful time for all - both children and parents. It is not an experience we enjoy.

I often wonder if we can make the examination period a more enjoyable time for the whole family. [well, one way is to escape exams altogether by not being in the school system. But for now, it has not reached the point that we need to take this step. So I rather think of it as: if we can't change something, we might as well make it a happy experience]. Over the years, we tried many methods. Here, I will share some which I think worked for us - to some extent.

I have come to realize that one of the major source of exam stress is the results - poor marks signal 'poor learner'. I guess we are in a results-oriented world and it is something we cannot expect to change. But I am not sure if we need to be results-oriented at every exam at every level throughout their entire school journey. We don't really want our children to think that good results in every exam mean "success" and bad results mean "failure". Rather, in keeping with our values, we think the emphasis should shift from "results" to "effort". We try to convey to our children we should not see exams so much as checking our performance as it is an opportunity to make us learn well (and study hard). consistent to this stance, we make an effort to reward our children based on their effort at studying rather than how well their mark scripts show. It is thus not uncommon for us to celebrate after their exams are over for their good effort instead of celebrating when the results are out. We hope to signal to the children that we value their effort at doing their duty as students to study hard rather than what shows on the results slip. We often tell them that the former is directly within their control while the latter is not. We feel that this consistent emphasis on effort-oriented vs results-oriented way of looking at exams have helped reduced some overall stress in our family over the years - both for parents and children. More important, we hope it has helped instill in them the right values: that in whatever we do, whether we can guarantee results is not as important morally as being faithful to our calling in life.

Another major source of stress is when the child is not motivated to study and the parent (usually the mother) has to keep cajoling him/her to do work. In my family, this 'sian'-look on the child's face coupled with the contrasting goal-driven urgency of the mother can become a potent combination - resulting in many a shouting-type altercations, because the child can't stand the constant monitoring and the parent can't stand the ineptitude. This is a tough one and we haven't quite figured out how to solve this problem. The best we come out with is to try and be more encouraging so that the child is more motivated to study. We know that, ultimately, the motivation has to be intrinsic instead of externally imposed. It is often painful during the transition phase - when the child moves from unmotivated to being self-motivated. I think my eldest two have completed the transition. The number 3 is in the thick of it, and the number 4 has even started! I guess we just have to be patient and pray ...

Default mode of parenting

Have you ever wondered why there are no professional courses to prepare us to be parents? I mean: all professional work requires professional training, often over many years - just to equip us with the basic knowledge and skills to start us off the professional work. But parenting? As I think about it, I sometimes find it strange. Parenting, to me, is no less an important or complex 'job' as any other modern day professions. Yet, while we undergo many years of intensive formal preparatory training for our professional work, we receive none for the lifelong 'job' of parenting. Could it be one reason why many of us feel very inadequate for the work of parenting? I certainly do feel inadequate - more with every passing year.

It is perhaps not exactly correct to say we did not receive preparation for parenting. The main source of pre-parenting 'training' is via the mode of observation - years of observing how we were parented by our parents. I think it is true to say that for most of us, our default mode of parenting is the way our parents parent us - because this is the only mode we know very well, having observed it for decades! In fact, I often 'caught' myself - always upon hindsight - treating my children the same way my parents treated me. One example is the tendency to become short-tempered at my children and to shout at them loudly with an angry tone. My wife used to say this to me, "I notice you are very impatient with our children and shout at them with a very scary tone and bulging eyes. But this is NOT you. You do not behave like this to other people." upon some soul searching, I realize that I was behaving in exactly the same way as my father on those occasions. I did not consciously intend to emulate him; it was subconscious imitation.

If your parents were good parenting models, then I think your had received very good 'training' to be a parent. But if you, like me, had parents with numerous parenting flaws [I should add at this point that this does not diminish my respect for them; for they lived through very difficult times where putting food on the table was already a big challenge, let alone the challenges of meeting our other needs], then I guess we need to do a lot of 'deconstructing' - consciously unlearning from our default mode of parenting and reflecting upon how we need to reconstruct new models to better help our children.

Over the last few years, I have found the work of 'deconstructing' onerous (because it means active reflection regularly) but rewarding. I found that I learnt a lot about myself and my children when I challenge the fundamentals of my default mode of parenting and found them lacking. I learnt to move out of my comfort zone to try new models of parenting. One such model that I have experimented (and still experimenting) is the active engagement mode of parenting - where I actively engage my children, communicate with them regularly, enjoy spending time with them etc. This is quite a contrast from the rather passive mode adopted by my parents - the picture of my father in my growing years is of one returning home from work to spend many hours on the television, responds to us only when we approach (say, for pocket money and signing of the report book), distant from us emotionally.

Deconstructing is a long process. It is an effort to change myself first(before I think of changing my children) As in all such self-renewal efforts, it is painful, humbling, and slow. In fact, writing these blogs is part of the process.

Children as trophies?

In public, when your children do something - like saying some socially inappropriate words, do you feel ashamed of them or that they have let you down? Or, conversely, when your children attain some achievements - such as winning a competition, do you feel proud of them, as if some of their 'glory' rub on to you? I do- all the time. I guess it is a fact: that whether we accept it or not, we are often judged by the 'performance' of our children. Using modern parlance, one of the KPIs of a successful person (esp a successful woman) is that our children are 'successful' (however 'success' is defined). In other words, the world at large judge us using this KPI, and we csnt change others' perception of us through how they look at our children.

But i think it is quite another thing to let this mindset get into our heads and affect our parenting decisions. If we do, then our children become a mere trophy in our collection. When this trophy-mentality takes root, we convey a very strong (perhaps unintended) message to our children: you must behave and do well because your parents' reputation hang on you. This message in itself is not wrong, i think; but if this becomes a predominant message, I fear it can distort their ultimate motivation for doing good - that it should focus on pleasing the parents and on the external observables instead of an intrinsic value for doing well.

The clearest example in my life is that of my children's behavior whenever we are in a social gathering. You know, in such gatherings, children can get hyped up and wander into all sorts of mischief. I used to get very perturbed when they 'shame' me by their mischiefs and I would punish them severely when we got home - far more severely than when they committed the same faults in private. Quite clearly, the increased severity of punishment has got to do with my anger - that they made me 'lose face' in front of my friends. To me, it is morally wrong to punish a child (more) because of my personal pride. Moreover, it sends the signal to them that something is 'more wrong' when done in public than in the privacy of the home. This runs against the grain of my belief that a child should weigh the merits of an act based on his internal set of values rather than the external consequences of the act.

I am now trying not to see them as my trophies. I want them to know that they should grow up as men and women in their own ways, and not shadowed by the mould of their parents. I am trying to accept their faults, even when they are laid bare under the glaring lights of the public. It is humbling for me when that happens, but I guess this is the price we need to pay as parents for them to develop as authentic people that are true to their own beliefs - whether at home or otherwise.

Father on pedestal?

When I first became a father, I thought that being a father is all about standing on a pedestal for my children: someone they look up to always as model as well as for instruction. Of late, I am beginning to learn that I am wrong to think like this on several counts.

First, I realize that learning is not all one-directional: I am the giver and they are the receiver of guidance. Certainly, I know I need to train and instruct my children. I would be a very irresponsible father if I do not take up this duty seriously. But fathering is not all about giving. It is also about learning too. I realize that as I try to help my children grow, I am growing together with them. I grow in patience when I find that they often do not get it all at once. I grow in understanding that some things - like character building - cannot be forced. I grow in knowing how to communicate with them in their changing circumstances - such as when they pass through childhood to teenage years. I grow in humility: i find that there is no sure formula to bring up children. I find that being a father is a wonderful opportunity to learn many things (often, just through interacting with the chidren) and it would be pity if I focus merely on the work of 'teaching them' and neglect altogether to reflect on all these learning points along the journey. I realise on hindsight that I have become quite a different person through being a father.

second, maintaining a permanent pose on the pedestal encourages pride in front of my children. It makes me feel that I cannot make mistakes in front of them; and at times when I do, it is very difficult to admit it and apologize to them. I still remember that the first time I said "sorry" to my children was the most difficult. I felt that it was a swallowing of pride and that it would compromise my 'stature' before them (part of maintaining position on pedestal). It did not help that my parents never apologized to me in my entire life. But I realized since then that apologizing for wrong is a very necessary part of parenting. Apart from setting an example to them that they too need to admit their mistakes and say "sorry" for their wrong, it is a good gesture of authenticity before our children - that might is not right and dad is not above reason.

Third, pedestal standing makes us look very inhuman. If all that my children see about me is a perfect model with no humanness and feelings, then I am not real to them and when they meet with big mistakes/pitfalls in life, they may think I am too 'high' to understand their wanderings. I want to present the "authentic me" before my children. I want them to know that dad is trying his best to set an example before them of living a meaningful life of integrity. But I also want them to know that dad has his weaknesses and struggles. He is living a "real" life - one that, despite his foibles, he is forging ahead with courage and hope.

I would like my children to see me as someone who can provide them with good advice from a higher vantage point - being older and more experienced than them. But I also want them to see me as an equal as a fellow feeling human - someone they won't feel 'small' with, but one they can heartily confide for their lives' problems and joys.

Burden or blessing?

I can't help it - but sometimes, I feel that my children are a form of burden. I know it is wrong to think of it that way, but it is a feeling that I can't deny having at times. The burdensome feeling comes whenever their needs fly in the face of what I have planned or envisioned for myself. For example, on my way home from work, I would envisage returning home to a quiet corner where I can put my legs up, sip some coffee, close my eyes, and be left alone for a while. But as you know, the reality can be quite different. It is not unusual to come home to a wailing child, a black-faced teen, and a daughter rushing towards me to pusk some papers in my face and ask, "how to do this question?" it is in these instances that I feel them being burdensome and something I can do without.

Well, I don't think I can erase this sort of feeling permanently. I am a human being with my own needs after all. But I can smell the dangers of viewing my children as burden. If left unchecked, i will let the joy of being with my children slip away from me; my children will also sense my unhappiness of being with them and may by and by distant from me. I guess the acid test for myself is: do my children see the frowning dad more or the smiling dad more whenever they are with me? I suppose if my 'feeling burdensome' disposition overrides the 'feeling happy' countenance then I would be quite a bore to be with, to say the least. It will manifest in impatience, short temper, task-orientedness, and intolerance. I don't want to be with such a person. I therefore don't blame my children if they avoid a dad like that.

How do I guard myself from slipping into this state? I guess it is ultimately down to how I view spending time with my children. If I see it purely as a "duty" that I must perform, or a serious of "tasks" that I must complete with them, then it will probably reach the state of burdensome very quickly. On the contrary, if I change my mindset and think of spending time with my children as a luxury and a privilege (and it is - because they grow up very fast, and they will soon have their own lives where we won't have such a luxury any more ...), something we should treasure every minute of, then I would approach it not as a burden but a real blessing. A blessing to share lives with them and to walk the journey together with them - happily.

I realize my two older children like to come into my bedroom in the night before we sleep. They just like to hang around my wife and I and have little chats to sort of wind down their day. I used to think that they are a nuisance - disturbing the time I have with my wife. I should start thinking of it now as a blessing. I might give them a goodnight hug (I mean the girl, not the 17year-old boy) and tell them how happy I am that they 'visit' us before they sleep.

Over critical?

Do you sometimes feel that you are too critical of your children?

I do. I realized that my first instinct when I look at my children tends to be to zoom-in on their weaknesses. This is manifested in a number of ways: when I look at my child's completed test paper, my impulse is to first ask, "why this one so simple also can get wrong?" and not "I notice you did better than the last time." or, when my teenage children comes home later than expected, the greeting at the door tends to be,"why so late?" and not "you must have a very tiring day, dear ..."

I guess it has to do with our Singaporean upbringing: our parents exact high standards for us and so now we are merely imposing the same on our children. I suppose setting high expectations in itself is not a bad thing. But if this high expectations becomes translated into being over-critical of our children, I wonder if it is healthy for them in the long run. I sometimes put myself in my children's shoes in an environment where the parents are never satisfied with whatever they do. I imagine it can be quite miserable. Everything I do - from untidy bedroom, poor school results, long computer time, to inappropriate language, failure to complete household chores - results in a frown from my parents and nothing I do ever seems to please them! If I am constantly under such an environment for a long period of time, I will feel very inadequate, unappreciated, and unloved; I may even develop an imbalanced view of myself as one who is never capable of satisfying the expectations of my parents, and concomitantly, I may develop a view of my parents as being hard taskmasters whom I do not want to engage lest they further belittle me for my constant inability.

I suppose this may be one reason why some teenage children disengage from their parents after a certain age. They may not articulate it, but I suspect one contributing reason is that they do not feel accepted by their parents for who they are; and in contrast, their peers do not criticize them but make them feel very accepted in their midst. As parents, I guess we must be very careful not to let our children feel that they are inadequate for us until they do or achieve such and such things. But often, unwittingly, we do this very thing by our over-critical stance towards them - everything from clothing to language to behavior. While we surely desire them to make progress in every aspect of their lives, I think we ought to be careful that our love for them is not conditioned upon what they are or what they do. Rather, we should send this message constantly to them: we love them simply because they are our children.

I now consciously try not to be over-critical of my children. I find myself often choosing the 'right battles to fight' with them. I also try to give more praise when they are praiseworthy. It is not easy for me. My parents never praised me.

Changing parenting style

When the children were younger, i tended to use a more 'direct' style of parenting: "do this", "don't do that", "just obey, don't talk back". it is the most natural method for me and it was efficient in that it got the children to do what i want - fast.  over the years, i have come to learn that doing things fast does not equate with learning things well.  An example i realised is that my children can finish their maths worksheets fast but not learn well - as seen from the recurring mistakes they commit.  i guess it is the same with the learning of values for life.  the problem with this 'direct' style of parenting is (1) the children can become reliant on an externally imposed authority (such as the parent) to tell them what to do and thus they lose the opportunity for independent planning and thinking; and (2) the children behaves in the parent-approved way only when the parent is imposing it; in their absence (and because the underlying values are not personally-owned) they 'liberate' and swing to rebellious behaviour.

a case in point is the use of computer.  i believe we ought to exercise restraint in computer time (as in, not spend too much time with computer games) and computer sites (ie, not go to sites that are not wholesome).  i have been trying to inculcate this restraint on the children.  it has not been easy. To prevent wrong computer sites, i deliberately place the computer in my sitting room - at an open place where other family members can easily view the screen; to moderate computer time, we set password so that they will have to ask our permission before they can access the computer, and that only after we 'negotiate' the purpose and the duration of use before we key in the password for them. despite these measures, we often end up in verbal wars over what they use if for and their not sticking to the agreed duration.  these quarrels can become so bad that it affects our child-parent relationship.

while i am not ready to completelty liberalise computer use in my family for the children, i am beginning to wonder if this kind of externally imposed strictures will help them (esp the older teenage children). if we continue the over-restriction, it will end up with the 2 problems i listed above, and we are beginning to see signs of it. i fear a day when they are no longer under our authority - will they exercise self-restraint?

i dont yet have an answer to this question. i currently favour a moderate approach where i gradually pass on more and more responsibility for the older children to take charge of their own computer time. occasionally, when we see that they are on the verge of abusing the liberties (like spending hours on computer games), we tap them on the shoulder and remind them to exercise self-discipline.  This is of course not restricted to computer time (which is just one example). i try to do less "do this" and "dont do that" talk and more "what do you think ..." type of conversation with them, in hope that they will ultimately choose to do something right not just because dad says so, but also because they believe it is right for themselves.  i call this the transference of parental values to the children.  it is quite different from mere surface transference of parental behaviour to the children.  the latter focuses on outward conduct; the former targets internal beliefs.

trust me - it is tough; it takes a lot of time.  i am not sure if there is another way.

One thing I do not regret as a father

What is one thing I do not regret doing as a father? I regret many things. I regret my inexperience as a father of my first child. I was overly strict and punished him for every wrong step he took. I think it still affects his confidence to this very day. Sadly, I cannot rewind the clock and undo the wrong and the damage, no matter how hard I try to reverse the effects now. Sigh. There are many other regrets, and I may share them here on another occasion. But for this post, I like to share one thing I didn't regret: Having a family dinner everyday.

I look forward to the family dinner everyday. It is nice to see the four children and my wife seated next to me around the same table. It makes me feel like a family. But what is really nice is the casual banter and conversation over dinner. We have dinner in the kitchen, and since we do not have the habit of watching TV - the TV is in the sitting room anyway - we are not distracted from one another. Although we do not have any agenda for discussion, over the years, the chats have taken us to many topics which I think we otherwise would miss - topics such as sex, economics, pop idols, fashion, our mistakes in life etc.

There is no structure to our dinner conversation so it is difficult to describe a 'typical' dinner chat. Some days, the number 3 will dominate the conversation with her lengthy description of a nice story she read. She would go into the minutest details of the story. It is clear that the older children have no patience to hear the full-length story but I guess it is a good practice of patience and consideration for their younger sister. If it gets overboard, they might say, "Can you summarise the story?" or I would interrupt with another topic; in which case it is her turn to learn consideration for others - that not everyone is as interested in the same thing as her. The number 2 starts her piece with this usual trigger, "oh you know what? ..." she will then go into telling us her happenings in school, which is usually very interesting and that will provide ingredients for the rest to chip in our comments too. The number 1 is most reticent. His usual response to my "how's school?" is the wooden "ok". But over dinner, when he is more relaxed, and when a right topic for him crops up (and when he is in the mood), he can ask very piercing questions. Most of the controversial topics start from him, and they are usually the ones that I will harness to lead my children into a productive discussion that challenges their value system. Number 4 is only four years old so he talks the least. I guess he listens and gets inducted into the routines of our dinner chats. Occasionally, he will say something that will make us laugh and that is very helpful for livening up the mood too.

It is during dinner time that I feel we are most like a family - we share our thoughts openly; we share our laughters and our tears. Think about it, we spend about an hour talking everyday (dinner is about an hour long). That means 365 hrs of family time a year, excluding other times together. Better than going for a family trip oversees to build family bonds?

Dealing with my anger

I sometimes get into very combustive arguments with my teenage son. That usually happened at times when my level of tolerance for what I think as unreasonable behavior crossed the limit. It is something of a buildup. First, He forgets to switch off his lights and fans - something that I reminded him for a thousand times, then he complains about food, I remind him to appreciate mum's cooking, he responds grumbly, I check his attitude, he blackens his face, I scold him for his obstinacy, he stomps off ... Shoutings, red faces, door hangings.

In short, in the midst of all the noise, anger builds up. And anger has a way to dull our senses and make us imbalanced in our assessment of the situation. I did a bit of post hoc analysis: each time I had a bad quarrel with my son, in the thick of it, I will be so angry with him that I think of the worst of him - he is a rascal, incorrigible, selfish, and beyond hope. Quite clearly, he is not. But in my anger, I only see the bad side of him, and not only so, these negative features get amplified disproportionately to a point that all I see before me is a child who is all bad and trouble. I then react based on this mental portrait of him. Obviously, anyone will respond negatively to blames and an accusatory tone. In turn, I react blamingly to his negative reactions and this is the start of a vicious spiral downwards to communication breakdown.

How can this be avoided? I must know myself. I must know that when I get angry, my assessment of things gets completely out of balance. In particular, my assessment of people, ESP my children, becomes unreasonably skewed. I must know that, more often than not, when I get angry, I will think about him as more evil than what he really means to be. I must deliberately counter my own thinking about him. I should draw evidence from my memory bank to justify for him that he is not as bad as what I think him to be at that point in time. In so doing, I get shifted in my mind more to the middle and perhaps in so doing i can proceed with him in a more even temper and tone. I can then really communicate with him rather than silly letting off.

Let me try it. I might share with you the results in the next blog.

Tired?

Ever felt tired as a father?

I do. Always. I have 4 children with ages ranging from 4 to 17. My hours apart from work are mainly with children (and wife). For the youngest child, I try to spend time to play with him and read to him because I don't want to miss out on his growing up years - they zoom past you very quickly. For the middle two girls, they need a lot of attention. You know - girls, I think they need a fatherly figure to give them the affection and care so that they don't look for it elsewhere! As for the eldest boy, he is at an age where many things can go very wrong. I make it point to check out on him and help him with his schoolwork. You can imagine how tired it can get if you have to soldier on with this level of responsibility and commitment on a daily basis.

Well, some say,"what to do?"

I am not sure. I think we should not be so busy with responsibilities to a point where we do not have time for ourselves or to a point where we lose the joy of living. I noticed that when that happens to me, I get very grouchy and unhappy. Sometimes, that manifest in having a short temper with my wife and children and certainly can't be good for the family.

Perhaps I need to be a bit more selfish: if I am happy, I will be a better father and husband and therefore bring about a happier family atmosphere for us all. How to be a happier father and husband? I am trying two ways. One way is to schedule regular events so that I can have time for myself - away from children - so that I don't get so overladen with a deep sense of responsibility. This I do by having once a week night off coffee chats with friends. I really enjoy those sessions and it relaxes me.

Another way is to have a change of mindset. I used to view doing things for the family as responsibility - with capital R. Now I attempt to enjoy the time I spent with my family. Enjoyment need not merely be watching a movie or playing a sports. I have since found that reading a book with my son on my lap is a very heartwarming and enjoyable thing; so is having a heart to heart chat with my teenage daughter about the disappointments use faced with friends and teachers.

Still tired. But somehow you don't feel it so much when you are enjoying what you are doing.

Priorities: children or wife?

Do you sometimes feel that you spend so much of your energies on your children that you neglect your wife? Have been feeling this way for some time. Maybe it is a Chinese upbringing thing - when children come, the couple shifts the attnetion away from one another towards their children.

But wouldn't that create a potential serious problem: we can feel less and less like intimate friends but more and more like project partners (the name of the project is called "raising children")? Well, some may say,"what's the problem with that?" if project partners don't keep up their close friendship, their relationship can become a mere cold partners-in-work kind, not unlike project partners at work - where we have not much other personal things to speak about except about work related to the project. Tis kind of project partner relatinship can degenerate into one where there is hardly any feelings for one another - we have to be there together only because the project is on. When it comes to that, then I wonder what will happen when the "project" ends. And, the project WILL end. One day, maybe 15 years later, the children will leave the home. What do we then do with our "project partner"? In all likelihood, I will have to be under the same roof with her for another 20 years?

This train of thought awakens me to this reality: my wife is my real long term commitment; the children are just medium term commitment.if that is so, then my current priorities (as judged by the time I spend with my wife and my children) are grossly imbalanced. I spend a lot of my time after work talking with and helping my children. But I hardly spend time with my wife to build up our long term relationship and affections.

In case some may ask what the signs of a project partner relationship are. For me, I started feeling that way when I realize that my conversation with my wife centres almost exclusively about the children (the project). We hardly share about ourselves to one another and show affection (the way we did when we were dating). To me, that signals some alarm bells ringing ...

I now resolve to date my wife once a week. Thhs is my first step at moving away from project partner relationship

Who is my children's educator?

I was just wondering aloud about how much time my children spent on school-related things. So I sat down and did a quick calculation. 7 hr of school each weekday; 6 hr of CCA a week; 2 hr homework each weekday; 2 hr Chinese tuition each week; 2 hr parental help on studies each week; 5 hr of homework/project work each weekend. Assuming 8 hr of sleep a day, and so an approx 112 waking hr per week, more than half of my children's waking hours in a typical week is on school-related things, and that is based on a conservative estimate.

Put in another way, for half of my children's lives, they are put in the hands of an "education provider" whom we have hardly any control over. Or, using modern parlance, I have subcontracted my parental education duties of my children to the schools for more than 50% of the time. Is it a wise move?

Well, I guess it depends on my view of education. If I think of education as giving them the market-recognized paper qualifications such as certificates and CVs stating their CCA accomplishments, then I think using the schools as a 50% subcontractor is quite a good bet. Moreover, schools provide them the social training that mirrors the kinds of working environments that they will be in later on in life and so this further contributes to their marketability. Well, I can go on to justify that the networks they build in school can form the nucleus to expand upon for business contacts in future.

What if I think of education in terms of building the habits/disciplines - physical, mental, and moral - that will hold them in good stead for the rest of their lives? This vision includes desirable life-long traits such as caring for others, having a healthy respect for every individual regardless of the person's status in society, being gracious, having the perseverance to see through a commitment, view life as more than a pursuit of material things etc. If this is how I view education for my children, then schools may seem quite inadequate to the task. [In fact, I sense that schools,unwittingly through their competitive environments, nurture values that are diametrically opposite of what I stated above]. To be fair, schools are not structured for these purposes. They have already more than enough on their plates fulfilling their goals of helping often unmotivated students achieve in examinations. No, the responsibility for this type of wholistic education must still fall back on my shoulders as a parent.

So how? I take a compromised approach: I view the schools as fulfilling mainly the first aspect of my children's education by way of equipping them with marketable assets; when they are with me, I maximize the opportunities for the other aspects of education that the schools are not equipped to do - the weightier fundamentals of what it means to live meaningfully.

My children and a growing conqueror

I was just thinking about the way we apportion our time in life in terms of a landscape analogy: some parts of our lives are in the "family" region, some in "work" region etc. We usually think about a 'balanced' life as one where each of these important regions is given it's appropriate territory - that is, time is allocated proportionately to the value we ascribe to each region.

Of late, I find that my children's lives are getting increasingly imbalanced. One particular region of their lives is expanding very aggressively, obviously in the expense of others. It is a rather sneaky region. We parents are usually very friendly and supportive of the existence of this region in their lives. In fact, most of the time, especially in the initial stages we want that region to expand in their lives because we think it is good for them. We get worried if the region shrinks. When that happens, we sound the alarm, remind them of it's importance, and even enlist the help of others and specialists in the hope of enlarging it's territory.

But, before you know it, its tentacles will reach to other regions which you hold dear with your children. It does so in explicit and less explicit ways. Explicitly, it just fill up the children's time with more and more of it's activities, so much so that they have no time with family. It disrupts all aspects of family life - family mealtimes, weekend outings, bonding games, even family vacation plans.

The scarier thing is - it's conquest does not lie merely in it's power over the children when they are physically in it's territory. Even when the children are outside it's physical boundaries, and, say, within the home, it continues to exert it's authority. Much of my children's time at home now is spent in doing work given by this region. Thus, very often, while the children are bodily in the "family" region, their minds continue to do the bidding of this other region. A common occurrence in my family is this exclamation when we are halfway on our family's activity, "oh! I forgot I haven finished the work of the other region!"

This region is expanding fast in my children. Traditionally, it stays pretty much in it's physical location and it respects other worthy regions such as "family" and "rest". These days, it doesn't anymore. The problem is: it may not even realize it's own ambition, because hardly anyone talks about it or realise it. Perpetrators of this region do not apologize for it's expansion because many are either unaware of it's own aggression or justifies it by stating it's merits, or retorts,"the parents and the children want it this way."

If lest unchecked, this region will consume almost all of my children's lives. It will render them grossly imbalanced and ultimately uneducated. The name of this region? School.