side effects of motherhood, stuff best described as not safe for parents

The return of Chucky

One of the great parenting lessons that books don’t teach you is how to deal with your kids’ terrible taste in stuff. You ever look back at old photos with horror and wonder why your parents would allow you to wear that fugly horned-rimmed specs to school for 2 years? Or cringe at the sight of your bad hair that was plastered to your head with enough oil to make roti prata? Lucky for me, I did.

I was a walking fashion disaster as a kid but hey, I’m allowed to look like a a cross between Mick Jagger and Cyndi Lauper at the age of 9. Ok, so I insisted on picking the godawful glasses myself but there should be some parenting guideline on how to stop your kids from making choices they will regret. Moments like these, you’re entitled to play the “I know best because I’m your mother” card, even if they throw the biggest hissy fit of all time.

I was hoping my kids wouldn’t inherit my questionable taste but alas, it seems like I’m going to have to exercise my veto power more than I was prepared to. So I figured, until the kids turn 21 or have good taste (whichever comes later), I’m responsible for helping them make good choices.

This morning, we brought baby girl to Toys R’ Us to pick out a new toy and she was real excited about the whole process. She was busy browsing all the toys, looking at each one intently before tossing them away. Daddy was all like “you can choose whatever you want, sweetie” so that’s exactly what she did. When we got to the doll aisle (she’s really into dolls recently), she started bouncing on the spot in her stroller, a sign that we were getting close to finding what she wanted.

Which was this.

I don’t think it can get any worse. Of all the toys in all the world, this is probably the worst possible choice. We were like “NOOOOOOOO, don’t touch it!” but she started hugging it and kissing it and patting its face so lovingly (the kid obviously haven’t watched Chucky). We tried offering her a whole bunch of other dolls that were so much less likely to stab us in the middle of the night but she found what she wanted and she wasn’t going to budge.

At that point, I think I knew why my parents indulged my awful choices – because it was what I wanted and for what it’s worth, it made me happy, which was (arguably) more important than not looking like an alien life form for the better part of my adolescent years.

If you must know, we didn’t get the doll eventually. She’s probably not going to remember wanting the doll when she grows up, but she will sure as hell remember if she gets attacked by a psycho doll in her sleep. Call me paranoid but this is the kind of risk I don’t take.

coolest kids ever

Playgrounds where the sun don’t shine

I never used to pay much attention to the indoor playgrounds in shopping centres. I knew they were around, but it was not like I had a reason to hang out there. (I’m looking at you, weird old guy at the playground) These days, I know exactly where all the best indoor playgrounds are because I’m more likely to be allowed to shop at places the kids know have a good play area. I know, I’m turning out to be such a cliche. You will too, when you pop one of those deceptively cute-looking tyrants we call babies.

Shopping centres are recognizing that investing in quality kid-friendly facilities is good business sense. They’re all competing to come up with nicer play areas, better-equipped nursing rooms and diaper rooms. It’s good for parents too because we all win.

One of their favorites so far, the playground at Marina Square.

Compared with the big boys like Polliwogs or Explorer Kids, it’s modest at best but hey, it’s free so I’m not expecting a lot here. It was strangely not that crowded (we went on a weekday evening which probably explains why) so we weren’t worried that the kids would be trampled to death or anything.

And who would have thought that baby girl would turn out to be such a daredevil? I totally blame Tru’s influence because that’s the thing about having big brothers. You get inspired to express yourself in ways that they do. All the bad stuff I did as a kid, I learnt from my brother. Except the time I stuck a chewing gum in his hair and panicked that it got stuck and tried to yank it out but ended up making it worse by smearing it all over his hair and long story short, two words – buzz cut. That was like 70% my fault, but partly also because he asked me (although hypothetically) what would happen if gum got stuck in hair. So I was all like “hey let’s find out!”

Safe to say, the kids won’t be introduced to gum till they turn 12.

As with all playgrounds, we had to check with the shifu to see if it made the cut. Tru has given his stamp of approval so I guess that means we’ll be coming back here soon.

motherhood, unqualified parenting tips

Je m’appelle gummy bear

At the risk of sounding like a pretentious smartass, I’ll say that parenthood has been an exercise in understanding the human condition. Because you know babies are as unadulterated as they come – just a little bundle of human instincts. They don’t give a rat’s ass what you think and they want what they want right now.

They’re motivated by one thing alone, and that is incentives.

At first, I wanted to teach the kids about *wanting* to be good just because it’s the right thing to do. To look past instant gratification and not be motivated by these trifle pleasures. I wanted to teach them stuff like selflessness and charity. I thought I could persuade them with the brilliant logic of my argument so that they would do my bidding without question. Ha, who am I kidding? I never quite bought all that myself anyway. At least not until I turned 26 and became a mom, and even then, I’m hardly the poster girl for altruism.

Take for example the time I had to teach Tru about sharing. I asked him to share and he said no. So I tried explaining the benefits of sharing – so that we could all be happy. From his look of disdain, I could tell that he obviously didn’t agree. He was all like “this is ridiculous mom, I’m not at all happy to share so don’t try to tell me that sharing makes us all happy”. Then I told him that sharing is being nice to others and it’s important to be nice because we get a sense of satisfaction when we give stuff to others. And he was like “yeah, good try mom, now watch me shriek like a banshee when you so much as look at my snack.” Eventually, I had to settle with offering him more snacks if he shared (incentive) and threatening to take away his snack if he didn’t share (also an incentive if you think about it).

It was the same with eating his food. When it was stuff he hated, (vegetables are the exception because I think he would rather lose a kidney than eat spinach) I had to resort to the two-pronged strategy of dangling gummies and threatening the naughty corner. He would take a minute to consider his options and finally open his mouth while making faces of the vomit variety.

I used to think that parents who had to resort to bribery and threats were doing it all wrong. Didn’t they know they were raising brats who would only do something for someone else if there was something in it for them? Besides, isn’t it like training a seal? “Good boy, here’s a fish for you. Now jump through this ring of fire.

But you see, at least that’s a start – that they’re even doing it at all. I’m hoping that if I offer a gummy to inculcate good behavior, at some point, they’ll do it even when we’re all out of gummies. Hopefully they’re so used to doing the right thing even when they didn’t understand or agree, so it wouldn’t seem like such a big deal to share their last cookie or give up a seat or tell the truth.

Although there’s a pretty good chance that they will turn out to be obese or toothless before that happens so I’m on the hunt for sugar-free gummies which I will cut into very tiny pieces so each gummy is effectively 1/10 of a whole gummy and even if they eat 10 gummies a day, it’ll be like eating just 1 gummy. I can’t wait for the day he’ll bargain for more gummies and I’ll have to do up a chart like 3 gummies for sharing and 5 gummies for eating 1 spinach.

Bollocks, that whole paragraph looks like some ridiculous Primary 1 math question. If John has 3 gummies and he gets 5 more but gives 4 to his sister and drops 2 along the way, then gets 7 apples and 2 bananas, how many teeth does he have left?