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.