(written by Footywife)

My little son has a love-hate relationship with the son of my close friend.

When they’re apart, they want very much to play together.

When they’re playing together, they inevitably fight.

The other day I went to my friend’s place to fetch her kids over to my place to play.  In the car the easy banter between us all developed into a shouting match over who should speak first – both wanted to talk to poor me (who was concentrating on the road) at the same time.

“I talk first” one would say.

“No!  I first” the other would counter.

“NO I FIRST!!”…

“NO I FIRST!!”…

At my place, they played amicably together for a while and then inevitably one (usually my little son because he is in his own territory) will snatch a toy from the other and a snatching fight would ensue.

Whilst watching Bob the Builder, my son (for whatever reason) sat on his friend’s lap and immediately received a kick in the rear that sent him running tearfully into the kitchen.

The next day, after our little guest had left, my little son told me ,“Mama I want Joshua to come to my house and play”.

Do you call this a love-hate relationship or what?

(written by Footywife)

Lately my little son has the desire to “get inside the TV”.  It first started last week while he was watching Barney.

“Can you bring me inside there please mama?” he asked.

I was taken by surprise by that question.  “Why do you want to go in there?” I asked.  “Because I want three children,” he replied.  He meant he wanted to be the third kid in the show, as there were only two kids with Barney.

This week while he was watching Winne the Pooh & Tigger, he again asked, “Can you bring me inside there please mama?”

I asked him why and he said, “because I want to talk to them”.

“Oh, we can talk to them when they come to the shopping centres,” I said.  “We can’t go inside the TV because there’s nothing inside there.”

I then showed him the back of the TV.  “See, there’s nothing in there.”  I said,  “and Pooh, Tigger and Darby are not real people, they are fake.”

“How about me?” he asked.

“You?  You are real,” I said.

“No!  I don’t want to be real.  I want to be fake!” he declared, upset that he wasn’t the same as Darby or Pooh or Tigger.

Today, just before his nap, he told me “Mama I want you to buy me Darby but not the flat one.  But like us.”

I think he meant he wants a 3-dimentional Darby, not a 2-dimentional one like in the TV.

Or did he mean he wants a real Darby, not a fake one?!!

(Written by Footywife)

Not too long ago a good friend of mine recounted to me how her 4-year old son wept silently after being scolded by her.  It broke her heart.

“Oh”, I replied, a little surprised.  You see, my 3-year old little son has never cried after being scolded, no matter how loud or fierce I scream.  In fact scolding has had little effect on him.  Most of the time he just ignores me.  The only time he sits up and listens is when I hold the most feared instrument (aka the cane) in my hand.

But everything changed last week.  We were at the grocers and my little son was at his most irritating self, running and intentionally bumping into me every corner I went, blocking my way and refusing to let me walk. My patience began to wear thin and as soon as we got into the car I just let it all out and ranted at him.  He looked at me and suddenly the side of his mouth curled downwards and he started to sob.

It was like my little son suddenly grew up and words began to have an effect on him.  It’s strange because I’m with him 24/7 and he matured under my nose just like that, and I’m not even sure how and when that happened.

In a way I’m glad.  Glad that I don’t have to resort to the cane to make a point.  On the other hand I realize harsh words could hurt him emotionally so I really have to mind what I say when I’m angry.

He’s suddenly not a toddler anymore.

(This is written by Footywife)

We went to a Christmas party the other day and my little son brought along his most prized car collection, from the Walt Disney movie “Cars”.

He was playing with them when our friend’s teenage daughter, Geraldine, came along to chat with him.

“What is the name of this car?” Geraldine asked.

“Art-sen” my little son replied instantly.

“Art-sen?” Geraldine repeated.

“Hudson” I chipped in, helping my little son to pronounce the letter “h”.

“Oh, Hudson” said Geraldine. “How about this one?” she asked again.

“Pilmore” my little son replied, somewhat a bit more hesitant.

“Pilmore?” Geraldine asked, looking a little confused.

“Filmore” I chipped in again, helping my little son to pronounce the letter “f” this time.

“Oh, you mean Filmore. How come I don’t understand what you say” Geraldine commented.

Then she pointed to another car and asked the same question.

“I don’t know” came the reply from my little son.

Filmore (2nd from left) ; Hudson (2nd from right)

But I’m sure he knew because he knows all the cars’ names by heart. My interference probably made him feel lousy about his diction as Geraldine could understand me but couldn’t understand him. So he chose to feign ignorance than risk Geraldine not understanding his diction again.

Maybe next time I should shut my big mouth and let my little son carry on the conversation in his own way and see what comes out of it.

(written by Footywife)

My mum nags a lot when I was a kid.  Even now she nags a lot.  I never understood why mothers nag until I become a mother myself.

It’s all thanks to the super short-term memory of young children.  “Don’t jump around when you’re eating Jadon or you’ll choke”, I called.  He stopped but 10 seconds later, he’s at it again.  “Stop jumping around I say, Jadon!”.  He stopped again but 10 seconds later he’s at it again.  “I say STOP Jadon!!  Do you understand STOP?!!”… …

Or it could be “Don’t jump on the sofa, Jadon.  The sofa’s for sitting, not jumping”  He jumps a while more and comes down.  You go into the room and when you return he’s jumping on the sofa again.  You repeat the same instruction and inevitably he does it again later.  And the next day.  And the day after.

And because I know that their memories are short term, I repeat instructions over and over again.  “Be careful Jadon because the floor is wet” - I say this without fail whenever I see wet floors.

So I can just imagine how this business of “repeating the same instruction over and over again” everyday, 7 days a week, 365 days a year is going to CHANGE me. It WILL become a habit such that even after my little boy grows up and no longer requires instructions to be repeated because he has developed a longer term memory, I will still continue to “repeat the same instruction over and over again”.

By which time the same act will be called “nagging”.

(This is written by Footywife)

We celebrated our little son’s 3rd birthday last weekend.  He is a die-hard fan of the Walt Disney movie “Cars” so I got him Mack (the truck that carried Lightning McQueen, the protagonist in the movie).  Needless to say, that got my little son really happy and excited.

He hugged me and told me “Mama I love you because you bought me Mack”.

Which prompted me (and any parent I’m sure) to ask “Would you still love me if I didn’t buy you Mack?”.  “No” came the reply, without any hint of apology, simply as a matter of fact.

That got me really upset and I immediately launched into a lecture of how love ought not be tied to material things… how he should still love me even if I don’t buy him any toys… how love should be unconditional love…Well, that’s easier said than done.  I fumbled to find the right words, the right analogy to explain this as simply as I could.

In the end I got a blank look and a very disinterested 3-year old.  I simply gave up and told him I will talk to him again about this some other time. How do we explain unconditional love to a 3 year old?

(This is written by Footywife)

“I am a selfish boy” - my little son told me that the other day.

It pains my heart to hear that.  It is one thing to tell a child that his action is selfish and quite another to hear the child regurgitating the same sentiment about himself.  When my little son said that, a sense of guilt just swept over me for making him feel this way about himself.

And this is not the only thing he makes me feel guilty about.  The other day he told me “only you smack me!”.  That’s of course not true.  I just smack him more often than his papa given that I spend 24/7 with him.  But the accusation makes me feel guilty and left me wondering if I am smacking him too often?

And whenever he makes me so angry that I lost it and started roaring at him, I will no doubt be plagued by a guilty conscience after that.  “Mama, you scream at me two times already” was what he told me few days ago.

Parenting, they say, gets tougher as the child gets older.  I am beginning to experience the truth behind the statement.

(this is written by my wife, henceforth known as “Footywife”! )

Sharing is a difficult thing to teach.

We try to encourage our little son to share by letting him experience the “negative effect” of not sharing.  For example if at church he refuses to share his toys with another kid and the kid went away after a while, we’ll point out to him that if he doesn’t share, he has no friends.  If he sees a kid with a toy which he likes, we’ll ask him to share his toys with the kid so that the kid may share the toy with him.

It all went well.  Our little son started sharing some of his toys some of the time.

Last weekend we went to church and brought along some coloring materials.  Now, coloring is not a favorite activity for our little son. So when we took out the materials it was met with lukewarm response.

Our little son then saw a few kids having fun together and wanted to join them.  Before we knew it, he took the coloring materials, ran over to the kids, held out his hands and “offer” it to them.  The kids received the coloring materials with excitement.  They stopped whatever they were doing and started coloring together (with my son).  And thus my little son was “accepted” into the group.

As we look upon him, we can’t help but wonder if we have in our quest to teach him about sharing, unknowingly taught him that material things can be used to “buy” friends?

Yesterday we were at the playground.  A boy was playing with a small car.  My little son wanted to play with it (he adores anything that resembles cars, however remotely!).  He pulled me aside and said, “Mama let’s give him sweets ok?  Then we take the car and play” !!!

Indeed, sharing is difficult to teach.

(this is written by my wife)

(1) The other day my little son and I were at the playground.  He befriended a boy of about 5 years of age and started playing ball with him.  However the ball did not belong to either of them but to a third boy who was generous enough to share.
The 5-year old boy (whom my son was playing ball with) had a bicycle which he parked by the side.  The boy who shared the ball saw it and wanted to ride.  The 5-year old boy immediately swung into action, ran to his bike and positioned his butt on it.  He wouldn’t move his butt and proceeded to play ball with my son while riding the bike.  That kind of slowed the momentum of the ball game and after a while the game died a natural death.

(2) We then went on to another playground and met a 4+ year old boy.  When he saw my son, he said “You didn’t let me play with the black bicycle the other time so I will not let you play with my pokemon toy”.

“Oh!”  I thought, somewhat surprised by the unprovoked comment.  But I know what he said is true because (a) my son’s bike is black and (b) whenever we bring the bike down my son will get me to sit on it when he is unable to man it to prevent other children from riding it.

However, almost in the same breath, he said “Never mind, I let you play”.

It was indeed a day about sharing.

The topic on The Sound of Music brings me fondly to all the wonderful songs in the musical.

Of them, one brings particular memory of how I started our son on singing (I am waiting for my wife to correct me on this!), and that is “EDELWEISS“.

When our son Jadon was younger (he’s turning 3 in a month’s time), we used to (are still) pat him to bed. And as I did so, I would sing him either “Edelweiss” or a very dated Chinese song called “Mo Li Hua”.

And as I sang to him, I would intentionally leave out the last word/syllable of each line for him to fill up. And he would almost always sing it correctly.

Here’s how it goes :

Edel “weiss”
Edel “weiss”

Every morning you greet “Me”
Small and “white”
Clean and “bright”
You look happy to meet “me”

Blossom of snow may you bloom and “grow”
Bloom and grow fore”ver”

Edel”weiss”
Edel”weiss”
Bless my homeland fore”ver”

Now, this cheeky little monster can not only sing the full songs, but has also started twisting the lyrics of songs to suit his own “creativity”!