Sophie's birthday

There was a lot of rejoicing on her birthday this year (then again, we rejoice every year). On her first birthday, she began walking on her own. On her second birthday, she began cycling properly. And on her third birthday this year, we thanked God for all the new progresses that took place in the past few months - her settling down in school and after-school care, toilet-training, learning how to read (English and Mandarin flashcards), her confession of her faith in Jesus Christ (and baptism), language development, words of affirmation for us (particularly her mummy), etc. I see her running around our house, playing pretend games and wanting to be involved in every activity possible... and I feel, honestly, very proud of her.

We had a simple celebration for Sophie on Tuesday - cake, candles, presents, and the wonderful presence of her extended family members.

Sophie's birthday guests (I assure you that they were not zombies...)

It was nothing particularly expensive or fancy, partially because I have to teach up till 8.30pm on Tuesdays and also because we will be going on a family vacation later this month to celebrate our wedding anniversary as well as her birthday. Sophie was delighted nevertheless, with the simple pleasures and smiled the entire evening away. The highlight was perhaps breaking open her birthday (Peppa Pig) pinata which I had constructed out of cardboard 2 days prior. Rather than fill it with sweets, I put in little thrills a toddler like her would appreciate - chocolate eggs with toys inside, balloons to blow up, a pair of Peppa Pig red spectacle frames, a Sylvanian Family baby rabbit on its rocking horse, and a tub of hair ties. Needless to say... she loved them!

And she must have felt so loved.

What surprises will her 4th year of life bring, I wonder. My prayer is that she would grow in her relationship with God... and get to know and love Him more.

We love you, big baby.

Sophie's diaries : Easter 2017 and her Not-so-Infant Baptism

After wrestling with the idea of infant baptism for 3 years, we finally decided to baptise our firstborn today.

Now of course, by this time, she isn't an infant anymore. She is also able to confess on her own that Jesus Christ died on the cross for all our sins - hers, mummy's, daddy's, gong-gong's, ah-ee's, etc - whatever her understanding of sin is - and yet, He is alive. She requests prayers; prays over the little hurdles she meets in life (like "God, please put all the bad guys in the world in the naughty corner..." or "God, please give us an empty parking lot..."); looks forward to the eschaton where she will meet especially that older brother who died in mummy's tummy and returned Home to God; and is able to reason much more than an infant. She manifests faith to a certain extent. Her baptism was not-so-infant. But, I am glad that I thought through the whole infant baptism thing... and I am not too ashamed to admit that my previous understanding of it could have been incomplete.

Here are the points I thoroughly considered:

First, while it is essential that a person confesses with his mouth that Jesus is Lord and believes in his heart that God raised Him from the dead (Rom. 10:9), where in the Bible does it say that baptism can only be administered for one who has reached the age of reason to do so with full conviction prior to baptism? While repentant converts were certainly baptised as the impetus for discipleship, we also read in the Book of Acts that their families were baptised with them, e.g. Lydia (16:15) and the Philippian jailer (16:33). Among the families/households must have been children of all ages, infants included. Furthermore, the Apostle Paul notes that baptism has replaced conventional circumcision; it is to be a "circumcision made without hands" (Col. 2:11-12). As we know, circumcision under the Old Covenant was for Jewish infants as much as it was for older boys and men among God's chosen people. Such unaware infants were circumcised in anticipation of the faith and community in which they would be raised. Would Paul have chosen such a metaphor for baptism if he had meant to exclude infants? And what about the mentally disabled who can never fully reason on their own?

Secondly, one is admitted to Holy Communion on the basis of his/her baptism. In other words, baptism initiates one into the life of the church community, beginning with the Lord's table. If we expect our children to participate in corporate worship, get serious about God, commit to discipleship, and make disciples (Matt. 28:18-20), they should first have a sense of belonging to the community. Holy Communion, I believe, should then be an important part of a child's early experiences of church because it nourishes this sense of belonging. (Of course, teaching children not to take it in vain is just as important.) Furthermore, the Holy Communion and its liturgy speak so much of God's grace - past, present, and future. Holy Communion is in fact, a sacrament that strengthens, affirms and conveys the grace it symbolises. Must a child/infant, by virtue of his/her baptism, only have access to it when he/she reaches the age of reason? What is the age of reason anyway? Can we, adults, say that we are fully reasonable at our age?

Thirdly, what is baptism? Is it just a public manifestation of a person's conversion or is it more? Is it necessary for salvation? For those who can be baptised, "...Baptism... saves you... not as a removal of dirt from the body but as an appeal to God for a clear conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ" (1 Pet. 3:21). Baptism joins us to Christ's death by which we are set free from the power of sin - because he/she who dies finally escapes the grip of sin (Rom. 6:7). Just as God's people were no longer slaves in Egypt through the water, we are no longer slaves to sin - and we can finally obey God if we wanted to. We can now say NO to sin and say YES to God - a lifelong responsibility and journey. Which parent, given the opportunity and their authority over their children's lives, would not want to avail this grace to them - the ability to say no to sin and say yes to God? "Permit the children to come to Me," Jesus said as His disciples rebuked the mothers bringing their brepha (Greek: infants) to Him so that He might touch them; "and do not hinder them for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these" (Lk. 18:15-16). One day, they must decide for themselves to follow Jesus wholeheartedly. But until then (and who knows what tomorrow might bring), is it not right for parents to bring their brepha through the exodus waters of freedom so that the brepha grow up in a new kingdom?

I am sure that I would be more open to baptising the next infant I have (if ever).

Sophie's Diaries : A month to her 3rd birthday

The past few months approaching her 3rd birthday have been magical.

S (finally) began sleeping through the night without waking up for milk, she toilet-trained, she began eating proper portions of (solid) food in school instead of just nibbles and loads of milk, feeding her out of the home is no longer barking up the wrong tree, she rinses her mouth (after brushing teeth) at the sink instead of all over herself, she counts objects in order, she dresses herself, etc. 

Wouldn't it be wrong to say that she is more human now? But it sure feels that way to me - and I thank God. It was very nerve-wrecking for me before this - keeping an alien alive. 

Well, I am loving and enjoying her loads. I just want to enjoy her as my only child as long as I can. It's rather like marriage, I suppose. You're aware that you and your other half might want a baby in the future; however, you don't want to rush into that parenthood thingamajig without having enjoyed some years together as a couple first. I know time ticks on and neither the hubs nor I are that young, but really, I know I'll really miss having all that time with her if I ever had another. If you ask me, she's enough. She is exceedingly and abundantly more than I could have asked for or imagined. 

But I speak for myself. She keeps asking us for a baby sibling nowadays, more than ever. She'd pat my tummy once in a while, and ask if the baby was in there already... or why is it getting bigger (sheesh)... She woke up one morning, and said brightly: "Mummy, I dreamed last night... I went back into your tummy... and then, I came out. Mummy, do you want another baby in your tummy?"

Of course, I was wide awake after she popped the question. And a little troubled now. Haha.

We interviewed her this evening on the prospect:

Me: Do you really want a baby brother or sister?

Sophie: I want... baby brother AND sister. 

Me: Sophie, if I have a baby, I won't have so much time for you. Who is going to play with you?

S: I will play by myself.

Me: If the baby cries, what are you going to do?

S: I will sayang the baby.

Me: Who will help me to look after the baby?
S: Sophie!

Me: If the baby comes to you and says, "Jie-jie, bao bao (carry)," what will you do?"

S: I will bao bao the baby very softly (she meant "gently"). Then, if we sit together like this (she gestured in glee toward the bench we were sitting on - hubs, Sophie and myself), baby will sit here... next to me. 

Me: But I won't be able to bao bao you anymore...

S: You can bao bao baby.... You don't need to bao bao me anymore. Daddy will bao bao me.

Did I ever mention that she is a very determined little girl?

Groan. Don't grow up too fast, baby girl. 

I recently read a very good book.

It has inspired me to remove myself from the cult of achievement and "earlier/faster is better" so prevalent in my part of the world, and strain towards a home life full of child-led play, imagination, making teachable moments and growing learners. The flash cards will still have to flash, because Sophie's school uses them, but I have never resorted to use them at home and I won't start. 

Here's toward the last month of her 3rd year. 

Sophie's Diaries : Graduation from a Parenting Course

We did it. As a family.

Yup, Sophie sat through the parenting course with us. She wouldn't have had it any other way. She refused to go off to the creche for babysitting services without us (duh). We told her that she could stay if she kept very quiet throughout (two-and-a-half-hours each session) - and she mostly did, which was amazing, I thought. Win win.

Of course, she needed some help to stay quiet. Her own little chair to sit on, lots of snacks, some toys, some trips to the bathroom, a pillow to nap (she'd hug me when she was tired and fall asleep on my lap), and lots of reassuring hugs (and kisses) as well as shushes. Also, ehem... some warnings that she might have to go to the creche after all whenever she got a little bit noisy. That part was inevitable. Nevertheless, she was generally well-behaved - God be praised - and it was such joy to have her with us throughout the DVD sessions, discussion group and etc. I am so, so proud of my grown-up baby.

Our group (sans one more couple who arrived late yesterday) and our facilitators (first 2 from left to right)

The parenting course was aimed at parents or caretakers of 0 to 10-year-olds. Together, we explored the building of strong foundations in our children's lives, their needs, boundaries that have to be set, healthy relationships that have to be modelled and encouraged, as well as our long-term aims in parenting. It was tremendously helpful to have our group facilitators share their parenting experiences with us; we also discussed our common struggles, especially in disciplining our children (and disciplining them while their grandparents try valiantly to come to their "rescue"). Very encouraging, definitely.

I think the course also helped me as a teacher to children, a majority of whom are below 10. After all, teachers are said to be acting "in loco parentis" while the kids are in their care i.e. "in place of a parent" (latin). While I believe that "in loco parentis" is in the professional context of educating the kids (as in, teachers are educating the kids in place of their parents back home) rather than a parental relationship (which often requires one to provide assistance to the kids beyond professional boundaries that might be inappropriate), we have to be yet mindful of the values they catch from us, the image of God as Shepherd that we portray, their needs, their self-worth, and the boundaries we need to set. Throughout the course, I was reminded of how ripe my mission field of teaching music is for harvest - and how lucky I was to have been equipped with the tools to reap.

Snapshot

It's snapshots like this that remind me... that my present difficulties will become things of the past and I might regret someday that I was too preoccupied with them (and moving past the season) to treasure the sweet lasts: my last pump of breastmilk, the last toothless grins, the last creases in her baby thighs, her last mee-mee, our last weekend on our own at Eden, the last meal I cooked for us, the last I saw of my engagement ring (don't ask), the last time I stepped foot into the seminary, etc. Lasts are as precious as Firsts. Firsts happen because some things lasted to their end... so that there could be new beginnings.

Sophie's diaries : music lessons

For reasons I shall not divulge here, I have always felt a little apprehensive about giving Sophie music lessons myself.

Until recently. Something changed.

I thought to myself: since she is all ready to learn, I can't afford don't intend to send her for kindermusik programs, and I am not a bad music teacher myself, why not start somewhere? I won't have to take sole responsibility for her music education; I could always send her for formal lessons with a teacher who isn't her mom, if needed (that's my consolation) or the Junior Music Course at Yamaha, but why not homeschool her for now? Also, I'd like to be able to tell her, in the future, that she began learning music at 2+. And that her mom was her first music teacher, haha.

My approach isn't too complicated or kiasu. It's all about having fun: storytelling, crafts, stickers, simple workbooks, dancing, rhythm, solfege, imaginative musical exposure, etc. My ultimate goal is to make the rudiments of music stick in her head for life while she continues to enjoy music as she always has. And may music be the context for teaching her deeper lessons about life, God, and everything else.

We began a week ago. So far so good. It has been a lot of fun for her as well as myself (what with the planning, strategizing, crafts preparation and all). I pray that I will continue to be this motivated.

Sophie's Diaries : Tots' Sunday School

I have mixed feelings about TSS.

On one hand, I love the idea of having my little girl participate in simple Bible-education activities along with other children her age. The teachers are a fun (and godly) bunch; Sophie enjoys singing the songs she learned throughout the week; and it does seem like a more churchy way (whatever that means) to occupy her time while the main service goes on - than her walking around the creche. I am glad that TSS makes her early experiences of church so pleasant.

But on the other hand, I also have my reservations...

Firstly, why do we need our children to spend time away from us while the main service is going on? Why separate them from the space, the music, the liturgy - the adults? So that we will be less distracted? Why not allow them to be part of the main service(s), even if it means staying put in the transparent creche at the back of the hall? Why should TSS be "more meaningful" to our toddlers than the creche? (This is in light of my recent reflection on my creche experiences, which you could read about here.) The "we need an age-appropriate worship and discipleship experience for our kids" argument doesn't make enough sense somehow. So we want to meet their spiritual needs (something that should happen at home throughout the week anyway) by disconnecting them from the life of the general church?  What message do we give our kids when we indicate that they should only sit in worship when the environment, songs, level of language, experiences, and subject matters are "suitable" or "fun"? What do they learn when we send them away from the family gathering because they are supposedly not ready for it? Are family gatherings - and its shared responsibilities as well as fellowship - only for grown-ups? Why do Sunday mornings have to be so "productive" for our little ones anyway? Isn't Jesus into the "slower rhythms of life" (as a friend of mine put it) - abiding, delighting, dwelling, and soaking in God's presence? (Note: there was no TSS in Jesus' time; the children were in their midst.)

Secondly, one parent will need to accompany the toddler to TSS - and this means that he/she will not be able to listen to Scripture with the rest of the congregation in the main hall that week. It was a weird experience to be that parent (I felt like I had missed out on an important weekly routine); and an even weirder experience to sit through the service without my husband (and Sophie) last Sunday.

There you go. Two sides of a coin.

Sophie's diaries : The forgiveness of a child

I got back late from work tonight. Every Tuesday night. Period.

Honestly, I don't like working past 6pm... but I do, twice a week, just to suit that handful of students who just can't make it on any other day or at any other time thanks to their ludicrously packed weekly schedules (I am thankful that they are good students though).

Anyway.  

It was near my toddler's bedtime. She was getting all kiasu, bossy and cranky. We tried to read; she was angry when her dad read the words on the page before she could. And then, I had to brush her teeth. All hell broke loose. There was the sound of her cries, my exasperated "say AHHHHH"s or "say EEEEEEEE"s, more crying... and then her dad tried to be helpful but got in my way, resulting in my scolding voice rising above the din. Etcetera. There you go, very dramatic.

In the end, it was a very miserable (and tired) little girl who buried her face into my shoulder during bedtime prayer. The weight of remorse and guilt bore down on me much more than that of my daughter as I carried her, pacing the room.

I knew that I had to apologise somehow. And I did. I told her that I loved her.

"Will you please forgive mummy?"

She nodded.

No words can express how beautiful a child's forgiveness is. In it, there is no malice, no secret grudge, and no pretense.

The new lifestyle of the mom of a (pre)school-going toddler

It consists of:

Earlier nights (at least earlier than before) so that I can get up early the next morning to get her ready and drive her to school.

Coffee. Coffee. Lots of coffee.

Packing school bags at night. This always makes me a teeny bit emo. I think over her progresses as well as struggles in school. I feel happy and guilty at the same time.

A more productive morning - because I don't have the excuse to skip going to the gym anymore and I start work earlier too. A more productive day on the whole.

Cherishing my evenings more, because that's when we do quality time together as a family.

A lot more hugging and kissing my toddler - because I miss her so much.

Toilet Training

My daughter is now day-toilet-trained.

I wasn't expecting her school to begin so soon. They said, maybe not the first week. But apparently, Sophie was ready from the start - and they began training her on her 3rd day in school. She got it pretty quick - and we were already using the public restroom at Mcdonald's the first evening. She was quite a pro at bladder control by day 2. And we are now diaper-free during the daytime! She doesn't use the potty, by the way. She sits on the toilet-bowl without a toddler toilet seat (swings herself up, much to my terror - I am so afraid that she will fall in), holding onto the sides with a grip that reminds me of a gymnast on the balance beam, and slides back down after she is done. Flushes the toilet and pulls up her underwear on her own. (Of course, someone will have to wipe for her.) The first time she did all these on her own, we didn't even know until she flushed and sauntered out from my bathroom announcing (in glee) that she just peed. She excels at doing both no. 1 and no. 2. I have no idea how we got here. Everything just happened in a flash.

It is amazing how independent she is now. And confident. I've got to thank the school for empowering her. We will try night-toilet-training as soon as she self-weans from her night bottle(s). (We have given up on weaning her ourselves...)

I thank God that we will be able to save money on daytime diapers and wet tissues from now onwards.

Sophie's Diaries : 2 years 9 months ~ To school we go!

It has been an emotional week for our family.

Sophie is in school and daycare! The realisation that the baby girl who used to kick me from the depths of my pregnant belly is now that tall, school-uniformed toddler, warming up to a larger social circle and asking her teachers loads of curious (and funny) questions at school makes me sit back with a happy sigh. The updates from her principal encourage me that she is beginning to adapt (more about that the next paragraph) and we see her progresses at home too. From refusing the potty to wanting to use it to pee (she's off diapers now during the day - more about her lightning-quick toilet training in another post); from her usual shying away from other children to spontaneously playing and interacting with another child in Mcd's; from unpredictable scribbling/colouring in her colouring book to tracing the outline of a bear with her crayon; from being dependent on us for naps to napping blissfully out of her comfortable home under the watchful eye of her sitters, etc. Has it been only 3 days? I am so thankful that God provided for us to send her to a simple but good Christian pre-school with a nurturing environment.

Blessings aside, it has been rough for us (Sophie and her parents) with regard to letting go of one another. Three tearful mornings so far (the first day was the worst - toddler and parents were crying badly; of course we didn't do it in front of her, haha!) and I wonder how long more will we have to endure such agonising farewells. Furthermore, she has been refusing to eat at school - and only guzzles down all the milk there is to guzzle down - we really hope that she will start trying out the solid food at school soon. As her mother, there is always this sense of guilt. You are not sure why things happened the way they happened, but you start blaming yourself for having made some decisions deemed wrong in the present. I could feel myself leaning toward such faithlessness whenever she didn't cope well with something, but seeing her happy face at the end of the day always comforts my heart somehow.

Well then, here is to another exciting month ahead. God help us...

Oh, something random I forgot to mention - but just for the record - she began hopping on one leg sometime in the past month.

January, Chinese New Year... and my birthday

January has been quite an overwhelming month for me. 

First, Sophie fell sick. Then I caught her bug and had to be quarantined for a while. Since I've had to replace classes for the students who went on Christmas vacations in December, my medical break meant even more replacement classes! On top of these, I had to juggle ministry assignments too. To keep me from being depressed, my wonderful hubby kindly (and thankfully) made the decision to spend the first few days of Chinese New Year and my birthday eve in KL (with my side of the family) instead of Penang. I was extremely grateful for that because I only had 5 days off work anyway. 

It was so good to be my dad and sister over the long weekend. Sophie was delighted to see her Gong-gong and Ah Ee whom she misses and prays for nightly.

Gong-gong a.k.a. granddad

Long walks with Ah Ee, who is ever so obliging.

Dim-sum-ing with the family. This was when our toddler grabbed us by the collars (literally) and demanded that we kiss in public... much to the amusement of those at our table. "Daddy, please kiss Mummy... NOW!" We did, even though it was a little embarrassing. Talk about PDA...

Now we know who inspired Sophie to make weird faces at the camera.

With the family before we returned to Penang. This was one of Sophie's "faces".

As I celebrate my birthday today (technically it was yesterday, but it's not "yesterday" till I sleep and wake up again), I am mesmerised by the message that was impressed upon my heart today while I meditated on Israel's Exodus in the Old Testament: Faith in God is ultimately not about looking forward, but remembering what He has done in the past. The Israelites were to live the new lifestyle that identified them as God's people and do so, remembering this: "I am the LORD, your God who who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery." (Exod. 20:2) The pivotal event was to stay fresh in their minds and hearts. The Jewish passover still commemorates it today. Likewise, our faith in Jesus Christ cannot empower us to hope in the present if we do not make it a point to keep remembering and celebrating what He has done for us - on the cross as well as in the valleys we have trudged through. We can never truly see what lies ahead of us - the bad as well as the good - but because God has shown Himself to be good all the time, we have the evidence that His goodness will prevail, come what may. We can be confident that His good will triumph over evil or the worst of our fears - the best of what we can ever hope for. It is then no wonder that Hebrews 11:1 says: "Now, faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see." This is a faith that keeps looking back and refreshing itself.

And so I start my new birthday year by remembering.

Sophie's diaries : 2 years 8 months

Four months to her third birthday. 

I haven't really updated her progresses in the past few months, but I thought I'd do a little updating this round, considering that those who pray for her read my blog.

Physically, she is tall and muscular for her age - and fits well into the 3-4 years old range when it comes to clothes. We owe it to her sporting/climbing activities (she can climb in and out of her own cot), her love for milk and her avocado breakfasts! (She is not an adventurous eater though.) She tries out a lot of "moves" out on her own - jumping and twisting, side-skipping, hopping on one leg, etc. I plan to start her on dance classes sometime in the next few months.

Emotionally, she is interesting at this age. 

Toddler tantrums and rebellion are still daily affairs (I am not expecting them to disappear any time soon) - and yet, from time to time, she can do or say the most unexpectedly thoughtful things that make my heart melt. The other day, we were out in the drizzle without an umbrella. I was carrying her and hurrying into the shade as quickly as I could. Sophie put her hands on her head to keep it from getting wet, looked at me, saw that my head was uncovered, and put one hand on my head. "Let me cover your head too, mummy!" We laughed because it was both sweet and cute. It takes a moment like this to snuff out another chaotic episode in the background. In my heart, I hope that she'll continue to grow in her compassion for others. 

She's of course a very humorous person like I mentioned before, which shows up in many of the photos we take nowadays. The weird stances, monkey faces, and winks are never our idea. She then takes delight in our shocked, half-annoyed-half-amused reactions to them. Other than photos, she is into teasing us by purposely giving us the wrong answers to our questions so that we jump. Ask her where is her tummy, and she might point to her head with a giggle bubbling to her lips. Or she might say, "This is my ankle..." while pointing to her elbow with a cheeky, anticipating smile. 

The questions she asks have multiplied from "What" and "Who" to "How" and "Why". Even if she knows the answer, she asks again and again and again. The other day, she asked her grandpa, "Yeh-yeh, what is die?" There was an awkward silence (poor grandpa... I was on my way out of the house so I didn't come to his rescue), so I don't think he answered her question. The truth be told, I think she already has an idea of what it means. (The night before that, she dreamt that I was dying and going away permanently.) Yup, it's a hard subject, this one.

Anyway, Sophie got hooked on Peppa Pig cartoons! We allow her to watch it because of the simple story-lines, good English (it's British animation), and how educational it can be. The characters aren't the best role models for good behaviour, and I am aware of that. But then again, it's just a cartoon and they are all junior animals - it's as real as it can get, so why sweat the small stuff? I try to explain to Sophie as gently as I can why certain behaviours are inexcusable - but I think that going to school and being with a wider social circle will reinforce the lessons, no worries. Personally, I like Peppa (the pig) because I find her personality rather similar to Sophie in the sense that she's not into following the crowd, she's creative, she's curious... and even while a little bossy and abrupt at times, she can be kind and sweet at heart. I adore Mummy Pig for always being so cool, wise, and calm regardless of what trouble her piglets (and Daddy Pig) make - I think she is the one all children should want to emulate. The cartoon won my heart for being real and down-to-earth - none of the preachy-preachy stuff that Sophie already gets from us, haha.



Socially-wise, she is still very shy with strangers and takes longer to warm-up to some than others. It really depends if you are a soft-spoken person or loud and bold; woman or man, easy-going or intense, motherly or not, etc. We have friends whom she's been seeing for months, who love her and all... but she is still very reserved around them. Oh well. In unfamiliar social surroundings, she sticks to me (especially) like a limpet on a rock and can be very nervous. (I think she got this from her mom.) Otherwise, she is pretty talkative.

Spiritually, the little girl is blossoming in God's time. We don't really have a fixed "plan". We maintain a nightly bedtime prayer routine, pray whenever we feel like, and talk about God whenever we need to. It's all casual, gentle and easy, as we are led. It must have been God's wisdom for her parents; Sophie now thanks God whenever we find empty parking lots in the carpark, she asks me to pray for her whenever she feels afraid (e.g. afraid of the scab falling off her arm), and looks forward to going to church. The other day, I was amazed when she suddenly said, "Mummy, X jie jie will not be sick anymore. Daddy prayed for her." 

There you go, folks. Please pray that Sophie will adapt to her playschool/daycare routine as soon as she begins in February! :)

A nightmare

When I was around Sophie's age, I dreamed of my mom lying in a hospital, sick and dying. I woke up heartbroken and frightened. Perhaps that was when death became a reality to me. Those whom we love will have to leave us someday. Sometimes, they leave thinking that we'll be better off without them.

Yesterday night, it seems that Sophie had a dream of a similar nature. She woke up crying for her mummy and was so distraught that she even peed on me when I picked her up. (I changed into dry clothes and continued trying to pacify her.) When we asked her what happened - did she have a bad dream or something - she said that mummy was going away... and mentioned something about dying. My heart ached strangely as I hugged my sobbing baby close. Suddenly, the memories came flooding back - of myself, earlier last year, praying that God would take me Home because I couldn't bear my burdens any longer (and nobody would miss me anyway, least of all Sophie - so I felt). Remembering, I was filled with remorse and repented before God.

Dearest Sophie, mummy is sorry. I am sorry for the times I let you go, thinking that you'd be much happier without me. For the times I left, thinking that you needed the space. For being susceptible to the Enemy's work of sowing inferiority in me. For doubting God's appointment of me to be your mummy. I don't know how long more I will have before we have to part ways; neither do I know how I will have to leave. But I promise to work hard to be the best mother I can be meanwhile - to meet all challenges head on, to love you unselfishly, to take good care of myself, to bring you up in the ways of the Lord, etc. Please forgive me.

Love,
Mummy

Conversations with my Daughter

Sophie talks a lot nowadays. A lot, considering that she used to not want to talk at all - and just grunt and sign. In fact, she's quite the chatterbox now. If there is no one to talk to, she will talk to herself. Her hands "talk" to each other - and so do her feet. Her stuffed animals "talk". She whispers to herself while trying to figure out something on her own. She sings. Sometimes, she recites her favourite lines/scenes from her favourite Peppa Pig cartoons and tells herself stories (many of which repeat over and over again).

Often, when I am home, I am busy acknowledging her sentences (and seizing teachable moments) so that I can correct her grammar gently and surreptitiously (so that she doesn't get discouraged trying). Or her pronunciation. I suspect that she was reluctant to speak before because she didn't feel like she had it all down pat. However, she's fine with the corrections now and therefore, speaks freely without being afraid to make mistakes. For example:

Sophie: Mummy, look at me! I is going down steps... self...
Me: I am going down the steps by myself...
Sophie: I am going down the steps by myself, mummy.
Me: Wow! You did it by yourself? Well done, Sophie! Was it difficult?
Sophie: *beams proudly* Not difficult.
Me: Not at all?
Sophie: Not at all!

And so on.

Yet other times, I silently drink in her sentences, phrases, noises, and songs overloaded with cuteness (even when she is mad at us and saying things like, "I want to beat daddy!" or "I'll tell the spider to BITE you..." haha). I let her tell stories the way she wants so that I can enjoy them... I do enjoy Sophie at her current stage of life.

Likewise...

I am reminded by the conversations that I have with my daughter.. that as imperfect and ineloquent as our speech is in the eyes of God, He yet meets us halfway. We may not know how best to pray, but whenever we make the effort to talk to Him somehow, the Holy Spirit travails with us (Rom. 8:26-27). He groans according to God's will. He also inspires us to evaluate our own prayers - content, purpose, and position. He shows us the truth through His Word (read or remembered). He opens our eyes to the obvious signs in our circumstances. He grants us the peace to consider unbiasedly the words spoken by those of our community of faith. And we eventually find our hearts changed, our minds renewed, and our person transformed. We no longer pray because we merely want to be heard. Beyond that, we pray because we want God to guide us - to turn the agenda of our prayers around so that we pray the right way and for the right things. Meanwhile, I believe God rejoices when we speak to Him about everything. He regards our faith, trust, hope, and freedom in Christ with the affection and fierce pride every parent knows. And as a parent myself, I imagine that our cries of pain and injustice uncage the lion in Him to deliver us from our oppressor(s).

As the New Year dawns, I hope that it will be a year of trusting God and seeing the fruit of such trust. For His mercy, grace, and provision thus far, I am grateful.

Persistence

I am still in the process of weaning my daughter off too many bottles of milk before bed (in my humble opinion). Currently, she still takes two - one full bottle before bed and one smaller bottle so that she can go to sleep after bedtime stories. Don't ask.

She is a milk junkie. And so, she tried to convince me for an hour or so that she must absolutely have that last bottle of milk (which she still fondly calls "nen nen").

Sophie: Mummy...
Me: Yes?
Sophie: May I have nen nen, please?
Me: No, you may not.

This exchange went on for a few minutes before she decided to give me a break. However, she couldn't sleep, naturally, and so, some moments later, she tried again:

Sophie: Mummy... may I have nen nen, please?
Me: No, you may not. Maybe later, when you wake up in the middle of the night (because she still does).
Sophie: No, mummy. May I have nen nen now? Please?
Me: You must go to sleep now. Maybe later.
Sophie: No, mummy. Now...
Me: Later...

Some moments of silence, followed by:

Sophie: Mummy, please... I want nen nen.
Me: Sophie, you heard what the dentist said about not drinking anymore milk after you've brushed your teeth, didn't you? (Proceeds to give her more scientific, medical reasons...)
Sophie: Please...
Me: No....

Sophie: (Puts on her best Brit English accent, no kidding.) May I have my milk, please?
Me: Sigh... Sophie...

Some moments of pregnant silence (I imagined the wheels in her head turning), followed by:

Sophie: Mummy, I am going to sing now...
Me: Oh, what are you going to sing?
Sophie: (Makes up her own chant, while smilingly searching my face for any reaction.) Nen-nen-nen-nen....nen-nen-nen-nen-nen....
Me: (Trying not to chuckle.) That's nice. Shall we go to sleep now? Milk is for when we wake up later.

Some moments of silence, followed by:

Sophie: Cuckoo... cuckoo... cuckoo... cuckoooo...
Me: .......
Sophie: Mummy, are you awake?
Me: ..........
Sophie: Please... I want my milk NOW.

Mummy was so tired. She got what she wanted in the end. The weaning will have to wait.

I could use her persistence in praying, really.

Being Mom @ Christmas

It has been an intense 5 days for me.

Let's see...

Having packed up a busy month in my work year, we went away for a family trip during my Christmas break.

Traveling with a toddler can be nice and interesting but also very stressful. I think it's because I am such an anxious perfectionist. It doesn't help when your hubby is a perfectionist too in many other ways. And the toddler... is at the age of mini tantrums, battles of independence, picky eating, repetitive questions, and parental preference. ("Go away, daddy!" is the most heard phrase, I think.)

Toddler fell sick on the first day of our trip. When she's sick, she's fussy... about who wipes her nose (it has to be mummy), the kind of material we use to wipe her nose (it has to be wet wipes), the texture of her food (she spat a lot during meal times), the height of her pillow, her naps, her medicines, etc. Which made traveling even more stressful than usual. I was so worried that our hotel neighbours would complain at the noise emanating from our room, especially when it was time for Sophie to take her medicine. From her cries to our threats and bribes - we must have been audible from miles away.

We met up with my side of the family and spent Christmas with them in KL. Lovely, but I felt bad for having to chase my sister out of our hotel every night so that I could wind down. Recharging was challenging in our tiny (budget) hotel room. (At least, the hotel at Cameron's was better. We just had to pay lots more!) Washing milk bottles took forever in that tiny bathroom sink, there was no refrigerator to cool down my Coke Zero, the one and only ceiling-mounted (rainfall) shower was determined to test my water-resistance whenever I had to clean up my toddler, and the lighting was awkward so that the room was either too dark or bright. Well, I suppose that it could have been worse. I was however very thankful that my dad and sister entertained my active, inquisitive, and talkative toddler so well. She sure looked forward to spending time with them every day.

A Coxsackie epidemic broke out amongst the kids at Sophie's soon-to-be playschool and daycare. I am currently in a dilemma. Should I send Sophie, who's recovering from her flu, to school on the 3rd of January? (Edit: After discussing the situation with her principal, we are postponing her first day to February. Phew!)

I fell sick on our last day in KL. Caught Sophie's flu, I suppose. I return to work today with the dripping faucet of a nose. Of Rudolph.

Etc.

Those 5 days were a microcosm of motherhood for me. Motherhood is full of intense moments that drive me to my knees in desperation. They say that a motherhood is a blessing. I do not disagree, especially having had a miscarriage some years ago. Motherhood is a blessing indeed. But its daily costs are great. One often denies her privacy, her solitude, her dignity, her dreams, her career, her reputation, and even her health for the sake of her children. (Just think sleep.) If one continues to ask "What's in it for me?" she will be more likely than not disappointed. Sometimes, you even regret during fleeting moments of self-pity that you embarked on this journey. Even more so when you realise how inadequate you are to wear this hat. Christmas 2016 reminded me of why motherhood is yet a blessing. Consider Mary's Magnificat in the Advent passage of Luke 1:46-55 (NASB):

46 And Mary said:

“My soul exalts the Lord,
47 And my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior.
48 “For He has had regard for the humble state of His bondslave;
For behold, from this time on all generations will count me blessed.
49 “For the Mighty One has done great things for me;
And holy is His name.
50 “And His mercy is upon generation after generation
Toward those who fear Him.
51 “He has done mighty deeds with His arm;
He has scattered those who were proud in the thoughts of their heart.
52 “He has brought down rulers from their thrones,
And has exalted those who were humble.
53 “He has filled the hungry with good things;
And sent away the rich empty-handed.
54 “He has given help to Israel His servant,
In remembrance of His mercy,
55 As He spoke to our fathers,
To Abraham and his descendants forever.”

Motherhood is a blessing because "God has..."

Note how many times this particular phrase is repeated throughout Mary's praise for God. She underscored God's mercy in granting her the favour of (virginal) conception. She would deny her self in accepting God's call and face potential humiliation, grief, and pain. But being able to taste God's mercy was a much greater thing. God's mercy was not only for herself, the humble bondslave (v.48) - but also for the future generations who would fear Him (v.50), the humble and hungry (vv.52-53), and Abraham's descendants who had the promise of a Messiah (v.55). Of course, it's difficult for most of us to relate to the favour Mary received because there was only one Jesus Christ. Yet in similar vein, mothers can take comfort in the fact that our God-given mission is a blessing. It is a blessing because God has... shown mercy.

God's mercy is for the mother who conceives (or adopts) and offers the fullness of her gifts in service of Christ as well as the future generation(s) her children belong to.

God's mercy is for the imperfect, inadequate mother who messes up often and badly... whom He yet chose to mother the souls He entrusted to her care.

God's mercy is for the undeserving, unworthy woman - lovingly respecting her need for the meaningful bond that can only be formed with her child and her need to nurture. Yes, scientists debate on whether "maternal instincts" are due to genetic hardwiring or learned gender behaviours; but my daughter's inclination to baby her stuffed animals even while she engages in sporty activities and plays many boyish toys suggests to me that a majority of women are wired (at least emotionally) to be maternal. Please feel free to disagree.

God's mercy is for the struggling mother, the depressed mother, the exasperated mother, the sacrificial mother, the sleep-deprived mother, the single mother, the sickly mother, the I-have-no-time-to-shower mother, etc. Those who trust Him will taste and see that He is good - yesterday, today and forevermore.

God's mercy is for the society her children will enter having been raised in a home that values love, joy, and peace. Being the emotional backbone of the family, the mother empathises in ways the father often can't. Her emotional responsiveness (tears and laughter), availability and dependability enable her children to grow up into adults who likewise empathise, express, manage their own emotions, build relationships, and keep them.

God's mercy is for the generation her children will lead... for the nation(s) they will build, rebuild and disciple. One of the greatest legacies a mother can pass down to her children is the passion of prayer. It is in praying that a child knows God, His gospel, His miracles, and His heartbeat for the nation.

God's mercy is for the harvest field her children will work in (Lk. 10:2), for the earth they will salt, and for the world they will light.

God's mercy is for the community and workforce graced by the presence of mothers. Having been a music teacher for many years now, I must say that motherhood made me a gentler, wiser, more sensitive, and more nurturing teacher somehow.

God's mercy is when "from the mouths of infants and nursing babes You have established strength... to make the enemy and revengeful cease" (Ps. 8:2).


And so, dear mother, take heart and rejoice. For God has shown mercy.

The other side of the island

Around this time last year, I blogged about the five blessings that made my year (2015) worth remembering.

It's again, ten days to the end of the year. Has it been a better year, like I hoped in this post?

How do you define "better" anyway? (What was I thinking?) More happiness, less troubles, less emotional exhaustion? I am not sure if my year 2016 was any "better" in that sense. However, something in me has changed. I used to cry out to God to take me Home (while I slept in the night) because I couldn't stand living anymore - and I didn't feel like I mattered that much to anybody. Life would go on without me and perhaps, for certain people, life would be even better. That was the way I was. I realise now, a year later, that I have stopped praying such prayers. Not because God didn't answer them, but because He already did.

He didn't take me Home, of course. No, not yet. But He showed me how hungry I unknowingly was (for the reassurance that He hadn't forsaken me) and filled me good things.

I am still on this other side of the island. I hated it when I moved here 2 years back - and I won't say that I am fond of it now. I miss my friends, the community that I belonged to, the air, the peace and quiet, the sea, the malls, and my freedom to make home home. It is very humbling to live with my in-laws too - in so many ways. However, moving to this other side of the island also meant seeing God's glory shine upon the backdrop of mundane things, the seeming directionlessness, my languishing will to live, and near-mid-life crisis.

And I changed.

The psalmist says that "He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul; He guides in me the paths of righteousness for His name's sake" (Ps. 23:1-3). I think we often think of sheep as passive, dumb, and peaceful followers of the shepherd. How hard can a shepherd's job be? But would God raise a king out of a shepherd boy if his job had been that simple? Some basic facts about sheep that I gleaned from a lifestock management blog today:

1. Sheep run away from perceived danger.
2. Sheep follow other sheep and conform because they find security in numbers.
3. Sheep find it hard to trust.

For a sheep to not run away from perceived danger, to not merely follow the crowd, to let itself be led and to trust the guidance of the Shepherd in an unfamiliar path, it has to see the Shepherd as a friend who has its best interest at heart. A less-than-fully-committed Shepherd would soon lose its sheep. The psalmist both implies that God is fully committed to shepherding and that he is therefore committed to obeying His lead, despite the temptations to go astray. He believes in God's care - that he will lack nothing. Furthermore, goodness and lovingkindness will follow him all the days of his life (Ps. 23:6). There is a sort of boldness in the psalmist's words that I truly admired all these while. It took a move into an uncomfortable zone to show me that the words of the psalmist could be mine too.

If God has shown Himself time after time to be a Friend - a committed one too - why shouldn't I lie down in the pasture He has brought me to? Why should I look down at the waters of sustenance? Or disdain the path because it is rocky, mundane, and seemingly hopeless? I was confronted with these questions at the beginning of the year. It dawned upon me that at the heart of my struggles was not my resentment and disappointment with my hubby's plan to move us in with his parents. Rather, I had allowed my unmet desires and broken dreams to shake my faith in God - that He loved me. The more I envied those who had what I wanted and couldn't have, the more unloved I felt. I let myself think He had conveniently abandoned me. But when I counted my blessings, I knew He hadn't. And doesn't. The cross has sealed the promise. 

So I decided to seize the days I would spend on this other side of the island. I began working out at the condo gym, took on more writing assignments, went on refreshing momcations (while I still had babysitting help from my in-laws), went back to work as a music teacher (my job was a miracle and the favour I continue to receive is a testimony of God's grace), made new friends and signed Sophie up for playschool among other things. God provided for us in ways we never imagined. I don't just hope that 2017 will be a "better" year. Rather, I am actually excited about 2017 because I can't wait to see how certain things unfold - particularly my ever-deepening work with the children, my music, Sophie's growth and development, my friendships, my prayer list, and so on.

We may never return to the other side of the island. I will continue to struggle in various areas and be emotionally exhausted. But I think I could live with these now.

The joy of the Lord is my strength.

Goodbye, 2016. 

The church creche

I must have written something about the church creche before. After all, we sit in there every Sunday.

And so, I find it necessary to write about it again.

To some, it is the most distracting place in the world. Toddlers who must release their pent-up energies (even more so when they are tired) walk around and can never seem to keep their voices down to a whisper... or drag chairs. Babies cry for attention right in the middle of a time of confession. Mothers (and fathers) go SSSSSSHHHHHH at regular intervals and make darting movements to snatch their little ones out of disasters waiting to happen - like hymnals waiting to be scribbled on with felt-tipped pens. Mine, the happy-go-lucky, often finds the environment conducive to do a number two during the sermon.

It is the most distracting place in the world to me indeed. (I blogged about it here.) It feels like the emergency department.

But Sophie said something yesterday that made me see the creche in a whole new light.

We were attending a guitar and drum performance a.k.a. pop music concert at the music school yesterday. I had to be there because I was part of the grand finale teachers' performance and they had asked Ben to be the event photographer. Naturally, Sophie had to come along (the grandparents are off babysitting duties on weekends). She enjoyed herself much but in the middle of all the crash, bang, and jam, she turned to me and said with a pleading voice loud enough to overcome the guitars and drums: "Mummy, I want to go to church today."

I had to reassure her, not once but twice, that we were still going to church in the evening after everything was over.

The church creche was still as distracting as before yesterday. But as I sat in there, I realised why Sophie wanted to be there of all places on a Sunday evening.

It is a plain and rather bare creche.

But it is where love (and ultimately God's love) is found.

As usual, she came to me for hugs and kisses every now and then. A reassuring hug after a fall. A bottle of milk. A biscuit. A change of diaper. Laptime. We rolled cars along the play mat. She flipped through the pages of a book while I listened to the sermon. She also scribbled in the church bulletin. More hugs and kisses. A gentle reminder from me not to drag chairs noisily across the floor. Some shushes. Aunty LC's baby cried and she comforted him. Sophie watched and ran back to me because she wanted her own mummy to hug and kiss her too. We walked to the glass door together during offering time so that she could slip some money into the offering bag. We sang hymns loudly along with the rest of the congregation outside. Finally, Sophie joined in the threefold amen. (No number two yesterday, thankfully.)

Our pastor always comes in to say hi to the creche-lings at the end of the service. I am grateful that she does.

We won't be in the creche forever. Someday, we will be out there, where Sophie will be expected to behave and participate in liturgy like a grown-up person. There will be no toys, no plastic chairs, and certainly no number twos during the sermon (if you can help it, thank you). But perhaps, it is time I appreciated the creche more. Because this is where Sophie learns about God and His people in an age-appropriate context. The God of the creche, the God whom we worship in the creche, the God who gives her parents weekly portions of gentleness, patience, self-control, and tact... is the God of Jesus Christ. The Creator, the Saviour, the mighty Redeemer. In His presence is fullness of joy, pleasures forevermore.

Reverence and love for God should be ingrained in one's heart before he/she worships outwardly with the rest. Only then, can worship be in spirit and in truth. I'm not saying that the creche is the only way - but having to sit in it with your kids must certainly be seen as a blessing and not a drag. I am learning that now.

"Thank You, God!"

Sophie's very first genuine expressions of gratitude to God were about empty parking lots. Her daddy and mummy were famished. We were going for dinner at the mall. The only problem: we had to park the car. Long weekends in Penang always means lots of people everywhere, locals and non-locals alike. And they love to hang out at the mall(s) in the evenings. Somehow.

Finding an empty parking lot in a crowded car park is such a blessing, isn't it?

Yes, thank You God. Not only for empty parking lots but also everything we have in life, including life itself. The human lifespan encompasses a lot of pain and grief, undeniably. Some suffer more than others. Yet, life is worth living because of the potentials in us - to imagine, create, relate, love, discover and grow.

And to laugh.

I thank God for Sophie. The one who makes me laugh so often over the littlest things.

Tonight, she asked me at bedtime what "parents" meant. When I told her that "mummy and daddy are your parents", she suddenly pulled me close, gave me a big hug and kissed me on the lips. I wasn't sure why, but it was certainly nice.

I am blessed to be your parent, Sophie.