Thankful

"Blessed indeed is the man who hears many gentle voices call him father."

~Lydia M. Child~

There's been no greater adventure in my life than fatherhood.

These two little munchkins may have taken energy, finances and time away from me, but they've given so much more life than I could ever imagine. They are truly the two most incredible girls in the world.

As different as night and day but one is very much as precious as the other. Fighting each other every single day but so fiercely protective and loving of each other at the same time, they call out the other's name as they fall asleep and then smile when they wake up next to other.

What grace from God to allow them to be close in age so that they can grow up to be the best of friends. The older sister is already counting the days for the younger one to enter the same preschool so that she can take care of her.

I thank God every day seeing them grow up and fall in love with them even more as time goes by. They will grow up so loved and they will know it - I'm praying that as they comprehend it more, it will be a love that strengthens and helps them to grow in humility and confidence, rather than cause them to feel entitled or be spoilt.

There's something about hearing the words, 'I love you, daddy', gently spoken with complete innocence and sincerity. You can hardly find in adults anymore and it gives you hope for the human nature and condition, that we can always reach for something greater.

That it's within our capacity to be a better person if we can find the child in our hearts that is not afraid to explore, to love and to live.

I am grateful.

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Preparing your first for your second

I have quite a few friends who are about to have their second child and some of them have shared concerns about how to prepare the first child for the arrival for the second and how to manage two children instead of one.

My first reaction as I thought back on the past, grueling year was, "We just...survive."

My second reaction was to think of the various techniques we tried with the older daughter; the gift exchange exercise, one to one dates with her, constant reassurance that she was loved, and involving her in caring for the baby.

But as I took a step back and reflected on it, I realised that there is one most important thing to prepare your older child; she cannot think that she is the centre of your life.

I know that this sounds counter-intuitive.

We literally turned our lives upside down when she came into our world, and now I'm saying she shouldn't feel like she's the most important thing in our lives, fully deserving of all our love?

Yes, that's right. She shouldn't.

And even before the second child comes along, she shouldn't feel that way.

First of all, you are at the centre of your life. Your physical, emotional, mental and spiritual wellbeing is absolutely key to you being able to take care of your family properly.

The second layer of importance isn't your children; it's your spouse. Your kids needs to be able to see this.

I learnt this the hard way when my daughter would run to me at the door, squealing in delight, and I wouldn't be able to resist picking her up and zooming her around the home. Five minutes of play later, I'd find my wife on the couch, arms cross, feet tapping furiously, and eyes shooting daggers into my soul...

Nowadays, I may still pick up my daughter at the door, give her a big hug and kiss on the cheek, but then I'd put her down and tell her I have to greet my wife first. And I'm not shy to passionately kiss my wife in front of Nat (you can actually kiss passionately without tongue if that's what you people were thinking...).

Then when I'm catching up with my wife, both of us make it a point to tell Nat when she interrupts that we're talking to each other first.

I know this sounds cruel but it doesn't mean that I don't set aside dedicated, intentional time with my daughter practically on a daily basis. During those times, I focus on her fully - I read to her, tell her stories, ask her about her day, wrestle and tickle her, and really spend quality time with her.

The point is that she knows that there are just a few important things in my life of which she is ONE of them, and it's my prerogative as an adult and as her father on when and how I spend time and energy on those priorities.

Sometimes she wants to spend time with me but I've already set aside the pre-dinner time that day to do a 20-minute run to stay healthy. I would go on my run, then come home and have dinner together with my family even if she's been begging me to take her out 'kai kai'.

Believe me, a child won't fall apart if she finds out that she's not the most important thing in your life or if she finds out you don't love her more than everything else in the world. In fact, it can help to provide structure and clarity - she has no doubt that you love her but knows that there are also other things which merit your attention and love equally or even more.

Many times, because parents get too busy at work, we feel guilty and it drives us to put our children at the centre when we do spend time with them. It starts communicating an unbalanced message and the child builds up too much of a sense of entitlement and an expectation that they are in control of their parents' love.

To be honest, Sarah and I definitely haven't got it right yet...far from it. It's still a daily challenge to bring that structure into the family especially when I've been guilty about spending more time at work and less time at home. And for those who know Nat, she's also not easy to handle; she's emotionally reactive, very sensitive and a complete drama queen.

But all things considered, she's been able to cope with Sam's integration into the family relatively smoothly. She loves her little sister and takes care of her. She is comfortable with people showing affectation for Sam and doesn't act out because of it although at times she wants 'equal' treatment; if we're carrying Sam to feed milk, Nat wants one of our hands to be holding on to her as she lies beside us drinking from her own milk bottle.

So if I tell Nat that her mummy is my favourite darling, she's fine as long as she's also my darling. If I tell her that I love her and Sam Sam the same, she's completely happy and doesn't feel that she should be loved more than her sister. They may still fight over toys and who gets to be carried by which parent, but in her heart, I believe that Nat not only has a deep assurance of how much she is loved, but is also beginning to understand the structure around that love.

And I strongly believe that this has been the most important factor in preparing her for the arrival and integration of her sister.

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A dad is not a mom

Fathers and mothers are fundamentally different. Each has a different role and influence on how a child grows up.

It’s clear that the concept of fatherhood is under attack and this makes it just a bit harder for a man to step up in taking care of his children.

The way this is done is not to directly attack fatherhood itself because it would be a little too obvious but to target something far deeper and more powerful in a man’s psyche; his manhood.

There has been an active endeavour to separate the image of a nurturing father and a masculine man. Research which attempts to show a link between lower testosterone and higher oestrogen to more involved fathers. Studies which try to show that better dads have smaller testicles.

Subtly in the background is the implied message which almost apologetically pats you on the back and tells you, “It’s all right. You’re a great father. Even if you have small balls and low testosterone. Even if you’re the farthest thing from that idea of an alpha male which so many of your gender strive for. It’s worth the sacrifice because you’re an awesome father and your kids will benefit.”

There is something very broken and sad in this message. And one of the most painful places to strike a man is in his dignity and identity as a man and his manliness. Even more significant than his need to be seen as a good father is his need to be firstly validated as a man.

Small wonder then that so many men stick to what is more socially acceptable; to be the breadwinner and provider for the family, to come home and discipline the kids when they have erred during the day, to be the protector when the family is in physical danger.

It’s true that these are important things for a man to strive for, and part of a father’s core responsibility is to provide for and protect his family, but is that all there is?

I think part of the problem is that because mothers have taken on the parenting role with such gusto and natural ownership, the standard of good parenting is based on what moms do. So dads are expected to take on that softer, nurturing approach which is not necessarily what is needed at all.

My wife and I do the same activities for our daughters in vastly different ways.

When the baby poos, my wife carefully holds her over the sink, rinses with baby soap and warm water, dries with a fresh, soft towel, applies nappy rash cream and carefully puts on a new diaper.

When the baby poos, I whip out the wet wipes, use precisely three pieces to mop up everything, wrap it all up in the old diaper, snap on a new diaper and we’re good to go.

When my 2-year-old daughter poos, my wife uses the toilet nozzle to gentle wash her and then uses as much tissue as needed to dry her properly.

When my 2-year-old daughter poos, I make her stand in the shower stall facing away from me with palms on the opposite wall and I hose her down with the shower nozzle turned on full.

When my wife takes my daughter to the park, she walks hand in hand around for 10 minutes then quickly heads back home saying she doesn’t want her to be in the outside heat too long or be exposed to mosquitoes.

Whey I take my daughter to the park, I let go of her hand and encourage her to run up and down the hills and fields. We’ll come home an hour or two later with mud on her arms and legs, and an extra bruise on her forehead but with a big smile on her face.

When they run to my wife crying, she’ll immediately pick them up, embrace them, take on and share their pain, seemingly almost crying herself sometimes.

When they run to me crying, I’ll sit them on my lap and ask ‘What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?’ Then after they calm down enough to tell me, I’ll tell them, “It doesn’t look too bad. Come, let me give you a hug and you’re going to feel better.” Or I’ll say, “It’s OK to cry about big things but we don’t always need to cry about small things. This is a small thing. I’m going to get you a glass of water and it’s going to be all right.”

The point is not that a man should not be nurturing; it’s that you can choose to be a parent and still be true to yourself. You don’t have to model the ideal father based on the motherhood examples around you. A father doesn’t have to try to be a mother. (I’m not sure what happens in a single parent family but I don’t have experience in this area.)

And the point is that being a good father doesn’t have to diminish the masculinity of a guy. There shouldn’t be a trade-off and if there is, then your definition of a man is broken, not his manliness.

A man who is able to shed heartfelt, genuine tears when his child is seriously ill and he can only leave it in the hands of God for a miracle.

A man who is able to discipline his children firmly, spanking if necessary, and then taking the time after to explain and affirm his love for them.

A man who is able to look his son in the eyes and say, “You know what? I love you so much because you are my child”.

A man who makes sure he is at the front seat of his daughter’s musical production or badminton tournament, cheering and laughing the loudest, even when those sitting around are ‘shushing’ him and shaking their heads in disapproval.

A man who plays hide and seek, and when he finally finds his daughter, picks her up, spins her around then body slams her, Hulk Hogan style, onto the bed, tickling her until she concedes defeat.

A man who is not hesitant to admit when he’s made a mistake or a wrong decision to his wife and to his children. A man who is not afraid to apologise to them once he realises his error.

These are not men who are feminine or who have sacrificed their manhood to be fathers; these are men whom I’d envision true alpha males to be if they ever had children. These are the men I'd strive to be like as I go through my early years into parenthood.

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Darling

Random conversations with Nat are getting more and more fun. As she grows up, she learns more words and has greater comprehension, but she manages to consistently maintains her cheeky perspectives.

Even short, spontaneous discussions like this one today...

Me: Hi Nat.

Nat: No! I'm not Nat.

Me: Okkaayyy...Hi Natalie.

Nat: Noooo! I'm not Natalie!!

Me: I see...So who are you then?

(She rolls her eyes as though I'm the stupidest person in the world, holds out both of her hands palms up and exclaims.)

Nat: I'm your DARRLLIIIIINNNGGG.

Me: Oops, I'm sorry. I forgot. Hi darling.

(She walks off smiling widely.)

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The importance of one

I have a confession to make. I just realised that I haven't been spending a lot of quality time with Nat lately.

And until yesterday, I honestly didn't think it was that big a deal.

I mean, it's not like we haven't been having quality time as a family.

We recently got back from a 3-day holiday to Genting where one of the main priorities was for Nat to enjoy the indoor theme park and arcade rides. We go out regularly to the mall and when visit my parents' home, they always have some creative game or fun task prepared for her. I've also made sure to not get too caught up with work and have been able to go back home to be with my kids almost every evening for dinner.

So I thought this was enough...

But despite all this, Nat's been really quite challenging to parent. She is constantly deliberately disobedient, very whiny and clingy, and sometimes acts out physically by hitting whoever tells her no or even mildly scolds her.

And because I'm the primary disciplinarian in the family, she gets it a lot from me. Every time she throws a tantrum or refuses to eat her food or plays too rough with Sam, I step in and try to correct her. More often than not, she reacts very badly to the slightest discipline and then I have the choice of whether to really clamp down and be serious, or to let it go.

As I reflect back the last month or two, a lot of my interaction with her has been as an authoritative disciplinarian. I'd get home after work and over dinner, tell her to eat her porridge and sit still. If we go out to the mall, I'd be telling her that Sam is drinking milk and mummy can't carry her. When we're ready for bed, I'd be telling her it's time to sleep and to stop fussing.

And it wasn't really changing how she was acting at all. She would just try to say and do the opposite of what she knew people wanted in order to provoke a reaction and to get attention. To get her out of the home, we have to pretend to leave and exclaim, "Wow! We're going to go play in church now with cheche Renee and koko Ryan. Too bad Natalie wants to stay home." And finally she'd run out as we were closing the door saying "NOOOOOOOOoooooohhhh...".

I still feel a pinch every time I come home from work because although she runs to me and exchanges a bear hug with me, she'd then say, "I don't love you, Papa". Every single time. And if I tell her not to say it, she'll say it more, over and over. Or she'd say, "look at this pretty shirt I'm wearing. Popo gave it to me, not Papa", with so much emphasis that spit would fly in my face every time she said 'popo' or 'papa'.

Yesterday, I got back home by 6:30pm and since the sun was still out, I decided to take her to the playground on impulse. I haven't taken her for almost two months because she's been sick for the two months with flu, throat infection and cough, and I didn't want to strain her physically while she was recovering.

And for the 45 minutes we spent together, she reminded me once again of who my little girl was. She was perfect. And there was no pretense in it at all. I had been so busy with life that I had completely forgotten this side of her for months.

We played and we talked and we walked. She tried all the different playground equipment although she was a bit more tentative this time round because it had been awhile since she played on them. And we took a long walk around the field just enjoying each other's company while we argued about whether birds slept in trees or on the ground.

Not once did I even come close to scold her or warn her or discipline her. She was simply wonderful to be around and I was sad to see the sun go down signalling the time to go home.

I suddenly felt guilty that I hadn't spent any one to one time with her for so long even though it's been one of my priorities as a father. I can make the usual excuses that she was sick and that I was busy, or even that I was already ensuring the family as a whole had quality time together.

But the relational dynamics are so very different when it's just me and her. It was as if she was freed to be herself without having to feel that she was competing for anyone's attention; she had my full focus, while doing something she truly enjoyed. The situation gave her the opportunity to show that her true nature is inherently 'good' although it's been increasingly hidden under all her tantrums.

As I carried her home, she kissed me on the cheek and I asked her, "do you love me?", which usually results in an immediate "NO! I DON'T LOVE, PAPA!" But this time, she looked at me out of the corner of her eyes and shyly whispered, "yeah". And when we sat down for dinner, she finished her porridge with almost no fuss at all.

Of course, by the time it was bedtime, she reverted to her fussy, whiny self again so I'm not expecting that my one to one dates with her are going to be some miraculous, all encompassing, behaviour-changing solution. But I do know that it matters a lot to her.

It matters that I spend that time with her where she doesn't have to share me with anyone else. It matters that she knows that I find her worthy enough to have my undivided attention on a regular basis. It matters that she sees how much I care for her in both my words and my actions.

And I don't think that this necessarily applies for every child in the sense that one to one time is essential for their sense of assurance and security that their parents love them. Some kids would probably get along just fine with quality time being shared among the whole family.

But there are others, like my daughter, where it will truly make all the difference.

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Tapping out

On my Feedly Reader, I’ve set up 10 parenthood blogs for inspiration – 9 written by fathers and 1 by a mother – of which maybe only 5 post regularly. I really enjoy reading them. They encourage me to spend more quality time with my children and give me ideas on how to raise them.

A couple of days ago, I opened up my Reader to find that one of the fathers had just divorced his wife. This means that out of the 5 active blogs, 2 of them had divorces during the time I was reading them, and another 1 started the blog as single dad but just recently ended a serious relationship with his girlfriend.

Somehow, reading his divorce story affected me. He had ‘tapped out’ two years ago. His wife still wanted to try make it work; he didn’t. And it really hit me that such a large percentage of the more popular parenthood blogs I read don’t have parents who stayed together.

These are awesome parents. Unless what they share on their blogs practically on a daily basis is a complete fabrication of words, pictures and videos, they are truly amazing with their kids. The smiles in the pictures and the laughs in the videos from their children are real, and they definitely spend a ton of quality time together. For quite a few of them, their blog is their entire job and career supporting their families.

I’m just wondering what the implications of this are.

Do you need to have a stable marriage in order to be a good parent?

Can the concept of parenthood be so easily and cleanly separated from that of a spouse?

In that case, would it make any difference if a single person decided to adopt and parent a child?

I’m not trying to judge single parents or married parents who decided to divorce, or even those who adopt children, whether single or married. I’m just trying to understand whether we, as a society, have differentiated out the meaning of parenthood so much so that being in a strong marriage is not necessarily part of the equation of what makes a great parent.

And I’m trying to process what that would mean to me.

Is parenthood far more sacred than the covenant of marriage today?

There are already so many sitcoms which present vastly imperfect and dysfunctional family settings. We all laugh at them because on some level some of us can relate to it, and it actually makes us feel better to see situations that are more messed up than what we face.

But sometimes I wonder if it’s to the extent that we glorify these imperfections and begin to treat them as the common reality rather than just those days and seasons where the yoghurt really hits the fan.

And even when we take out the children for quality time, because of the nature of how busy we are as parents, many times it’s only one parent. Sarah’s off day is Monday so she might take Nat out to the mall for shopping while I’m at work. She works on weekends, so I might take the kids out for breakfast and a walk on Sunday morning without her.

When I see most of the pictures on the blogs I read, they are either only of the children, or even if a parent is in them, it’s a ‘selfie’ rather than the depiction of a fun family experience with both parents present.

I’ve just shared out my thoughts on this without thinking it through so this post may not really have a coherent flow but I’m going to end it with my conclusions for my life.

I think that if my parents divorced when I was younger, it would probably be singlehandedly the most painful and disruptive experience in my childhood. Even if they were to divorce today, I would be completely shaken and it would grieve me greatly. Whether I agreed with all their methods of raising me, they have formed the foundation of all I am, both in what they taught me and in what they showed me.

It’s not even that they shielded me from the reality and truth that divorce happens, but they gave me a hope that it was possible to reach for something better – to work through a solid marriage with my wife and that things can get better as you grow old together.

And my hope is that I never prioritise my children over my wife or believe that they are more worthy of my attention and affection. I could never be the father that I want to be without her holding my hand every step of the way.

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You're mine

Sam is now four and a half months old, and Nat had been handling things pretty well for a few months. But more recently, she's suddenly become more insecure and very, very clingy to my wife.

She doesn't really bother as much with me unless she feels like playing or going out to the mall, but she constantly seeks for affection from Sarah. When my wife is breastfeeding Sam at night, Nat demands to be carried at the same time. As she falls asleep, she grabs Sarah's hand and strokes it on her own cheek.

And every time we reach our destination in the car, she instructs us very specifically, "Papa will carry Sam Sam and Mama will carry Natalie. OK? OK?" in that cute sing-song voice of hers.

We've taken many steps to reassure her, telling her often and consistently that we love her, spending a lot of quality time with her, and giving her the type of bear hugs which make it difficult to breathe. I'm pretty sure she knows deep down that she means everything to us, but it's just a phase she'll have to get through.

I was listening to a conversation Nat was having with Sarah a couple of nights back before she fell asleep, which made me smile.

Nat: Mama, I want to go play with Yun Ho. (She recognised him from Facebook on our phone)
Sarah: It's late Nat, Yun Ho will be sleeping.
Nat: Ohhhh, sleeping at his home?
Sarah: Yes, that's right, at his home.
Nat: Tomorrow, I go play with Yun Ho?
Sarah: We'll have to ask Yun Ho's mama first, OK?
Nat: (Looking confused) ...But you are mama?
Sarah: I'm your mama. Yun Ho also has his own mama.
Nat: Ohhhh, you're my mama!
(She smiles, closes her eyes, and hugs on to Sarah's arm tightly.)
Nat: Mama, you're mine.

She's really so adorable (especially when she's not being naughty to get attention)...and she's growing up way too fast. :(

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Playground observations

In general, depending on who brings a child to the playground, there are different levels of risk the child is exposed to. I’m not saying that it’s always true but it’s pretty accurate most times.

So just for fun, let’s start with the most risky and work our way down.

The dads

The biggest culprits who expose their kids to the most risk. They usually give the child free reign and freedom of the entire playground. Many times, they stand off and either watch from a distance or fiddle with their phones while waiting. There were times when I’d see a kid rampaging around and I’d look around wondering where the parent was; it would be the dad right on the opposite side of the playground, checking out cute joggers.

The babysitters

Many children nowadays are primarily taken care of by full time babysitters, often from Indonesia or Philippines. They half-heartedly chase the kid around, while regularly calling the child’s name in a whiny, scolding tone. They already know the child won’t listen to them because of the times the parents have let the children override them. It’s not their own child so the ownership level is obviously different. The only thing that keeps them following the child around is that they’d get in trouble if there was an injury.

The grandfathers

Even though I’ve ranked grandfathers as pretty ‘risky’, it’s not that they’re not careful. They just tend to be older and find it hard to keep up with the child running around, even though many of them still think they can! At the same time, I find that men tend to have a lower intuition for danger, and that sense for what’s going on around them continues getting more numb as they grow older, not for lack of effort. There’s no tingling sensation when something is about to go wrong which moms tend to pick up almost on a superhuman level.

The moms

Moms tend to let the child enjoy within boundaries of safety. They can play on the first and maybe the second slide, come to the third and highest one, and it’s “that’s too high for you dear, let the big kids go there, you’ll fall down”. Mothers also like to treat things as a learning experience, every moment of the day. “Don’t help my child up. I want to let her learn that she’s gotta do it herself!” “See? You are unable to climb up this ladder so you should grow older first.” “Come away from that. You can play here and here, but not there.”

The grandmothers

I really pity the grandmas. They follow the child through every narrow tunnel, every bridge, every stair, sometimes even the slide, all the while holding both hands out in case she needs to cushion an inadvertent bump at every turn. You can see their concern that anything could happen anytime which could hurt their precious grandchild, and they are the only ones who can be the all-present protector. And you can also see the beads of sweat on her forehead, the slight shaking as she stoops over, where the next day is sure to come with a few aches.

The dads (again)

But who gets the award of being the safest for the child to be with? Once again the fathers…who go to the playground with both the child AND the mother. The mother will be following the other two around, making statements non-stop. “That’s too dangerous for our boo-boo. Take him there.” “Careful of his head, dear! He came so close to bumping it on the railing. Are you even watching him???” “Should we go soon? There are so many other kids and they could knock over our little one.” Inevitably, the dad becomes a bit like the grandmother, only fitter, hovering close by and trying to cushion all the imaginary falls and dangers, all the while being ‘supervised’ by the closely observing mommy. He knows there’ll be hell to pay if the child makes even a little stumble.

I don’t know whether I pity the grandmothers more or these dads…

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Fairy tales

Wife: Do you think that fairy tales and Disney cartoons screwed us all over?

Me: (Raises eyebrows) That’s random. Whatever do you mean?

Wife: You know, about love. Prince charming, love at first sight, happily ever after…

Me: (Acting flabbergasted) You mean our love is not as romantic as in fairy tales?????

Wife: (Rolling eyes) Loooovvveeee, seriously…

Me: (Long pause) No, I don’t think we were screwed over. I think there’s a place for fairy tales. Before my kids are beaten down by the cruel ‘realities’ that life brings, I want them to be able to hope in something better. I want them to develop a strong sense of wonder for the things around them. I want them to dream, to imagine, to be curious of possibilities, and not to be constrained by how bleak things look in the present. I think they’ll be more open minded and creative if scepticism doesn’t eat them up from too young an age.

Wife: (Not looking convinced) Go on…

Me: And besides, I’m pretty sure that before they even start dating, I will be telling our daughters all the horrible things about guys that will scare them from dating until they’re 40…There’s plenty of time for them to face disappointment as they grow older. It’s inevitable. People feel that you protect your children from these disappointments by telling them the tough truth from the beginning so that they don’t have any unrealistic expectations. But I feel that it’s also important to build up a core of hope and optimism that they can turn to when the chips are down.

Wife: Well, you have a point but some of the messages in fairy tales and Disney cartoons are still a little disturbing.

Me: I guess we just have to try to find a right balance and trust that our children will be able to differentiate between fact and fantasy as they grow up, and be able to still retain a sense of wonder about life.

Wife: (Suddenly feeling the weight of responsibility of raising the kids) Yeah, I guess…

Me: And to a certain extent, it’s a bit like our faith. We persistently hold on to the belief that things are going to be all right no matter how bad the circumstances are. We believe that God will turn things around and work all things for the good of those who love Him. We believe in a higher standard of love, conduct and truth, which are universal and unchanging through time. We believe in things we don’t tangibly see and touch, we believe in miracles, every single day as Christians.


First of all, I know it’s difficult to believe that my wife would use the word “screwed” but that’s not a fairy tale; she really did. It must have slipped out accidentally so please try not to talk to her about it...Secondly, the conversation above seems to imply that in my discussions with my wife, I talk a lot more than her. That is completely untrue…well, OK, maybe it’s slightly true. Sometimes. But back to the topic.

I’ve started noticing a trend where many parents are very caught up with revealing the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help them God. Many people experience crushing disappointments growing up and attribute it to believing in these romantic notions which were instilled in them from their exposure to fairy tales from a young age.

I recently watched short clip entitled “Mothers are the biggest liars in the world”. In the video, a mother lies to her son throughout that she’s not tired as she’s going through laborious work, that she’s not hungry so that he can have more to eat, and so on. And it touched me because all through my childhood, I’ve seen instances of my own mother hiding her own hurt and challenges in order to help us kids.

But as I read through some of the comments related to the clip, I saw so many comments from mothers stating things like, “I’d never lie to my children”, “they deserve to know the truth about life”, and “the truth will help them grow to be responsible adults”. There were stories shared about how some of them trusted their parents and then felt betrayed later on, and how expectations were built up only to set them up for disappointment later on.

And they all do have a point. I don’t want my children to grow up with their head in the clouds, believing that only good people exist and thinking life should be easy. But I also want them to grow up with a strong capacity to hope for a better reality, to know that there are so many possibilities in life to reach for courageously, and to hold on to good principles and standards even if they are different from what they see every day in the world.

It’s going to be a tricky line to walk. But at some point, I need to also let go and trust that they will make the right decisions and strike the right balance for themselves.

So I'm leaning a lot more towards exposing my kids to these stories as they grow up. What about you? Are you going to let your children grow up on fairy tales and the old Disney cartoons?

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It's easy

This post has been stewing in my head for awhile (I’m weird like that) and I never wrote it out because I wasn’t sure that I made sense but I guess I won’t know until I pen it down.

In the context of fatherhood, it’s so easy to be a man.

If there’s a day I leave work on time and get home while it’s still sunny to bring my daughter to the playground, suddenly I’m father of the year. My colleague finds out and is amazed because no matter how much she asks her husband, he has not taken out their child once to the playground.

If someone finds out that I like to read my daughter storybooks, they are astonished and ask how I get her to sit still, what books are appropriate for such a young age and how I find the patience to do it after a long day of work. Honestly, if I make the story interesting and animated, she would love to sit on my lap every single day to listen to more stories.

If a friend hears that I regularly take my daughter on one-on-one dates, she can’t understand how because many fathers she knows have never dared to take care of their children alone, let alone taken them out to the mall. But these dates are truly some of the favourite moments in my life.

It’s too easy for a man to get the credit. I’m not a good father. I’m not a great father. I’m just being a father to my children, but in the society today, simply being present as a father seems to qualify me for some award.

It doesn’t even feel like a chore. I love spending time with Nat. Someone’s already done the hard work to allow me to then spend quality time with her. On working days, someone’s already worked out her sleeping and feeding routine, someone’s already kept her clean and in a good mood. Then I swoop in after work, take her out to a bookstore, buy her a present, then stop by McDs to share an ice cream cone.

And guess who gets all the recognition, all the praise and all the acknowledgement? Me. The father. The one who didn’t have to do any work, who didn’t have to expend much energy, but who took the child out for maybe two hours of fun. And guess what the child remembers about that day? That daddy came home to her. That he bought her an interesting book to read with lots of pictures and moving bits. That he sneaked her some ice cream even though mommy doesn’t encourage it.

That he cared.

That he found her worthy enough to spend time with her.

That there’s no place else he would have rather been.

This doesn’t make an awesome father. This just makes a father.

Something is seriously broken about the current expectation of how fathers should be.

Not for a moment do I believe that fathers love their kids any less than mothers. But I’ve seen so many men commended for spending every last ounce of their energy and time on building their career and finances at the cost of hardly seeing their children, and I can’t imagine anyone commending a woman if she were to do the same thing.

I’m going to go out on a limb here. Dads who don’t spend time with their kids are missing out on one of the most fulfilling and joyful experiences life can offer.

And cultural norms have already made it easier. It’s like getting a pat on the back every time you drive on the right side of the road or queue up properly at the grocery counter.

You’ll get a medal for doing what you probably should be doing anyway.

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These are a few of my favourite things

As a parent, there are few moments which make your heart melt more than when you see that your children love each other. Even though my kids are still very young, I'm ever so grateful when I see the older sister (almost 2 years) show her love for the younger (almost 3 months).

Last night was such a time. Nat had already knocked out in the car coming home from prayer meeting at church. She didn't even open her eyes once when we transferred her to the bed and changed her into her pajamas. Sam, on the other hand, was wide awake for some reason and trying to talk to anyone who would give her attention.

My wife was very sleepy and handed her over to me, knocking off soon after. I tried to rock her for awhile but she was seriously wide awake (it was 11:45pm at this point). So I put her down in between Nat and myself on the bed. Her constant cooing finally woke up Nat.

I honestly thought Nat would throw a sleepy tantrum as she gets very moody and annoyed when she's sleepy. But instead, she just smiled and held Sam's hand, then went back to sleep. After a few minutes, Sam's baby talk woke Nat up again, and Nat just lifted Sam's hand to her mouth and kissed it, then nodded off again still holding on to the hand.

I don't know why this touched me so much but it brought tears to my eyes. Nat's simple actions weren't scripted at all and it's not something we have been teaching her to do. I can only assume that it's so natural for her because she's seen us express affection to each other in the family in similar ways.

And that means everything to me.

(Disclaimer: Sarah took over soon after and effortlessly put Sam to sleep in five minutes.)

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A good man, a better father

Stories like this never fail to touch my heart and inspire me.



All too often, the only stories we hear about are of successes. People who have crawled their way through trenches, who have bounced back from failure only to reach greatness through grit, perseverance and ingenuity.

But while these achievements definitely help to inspire to reach for their dreams, the overemphasis on them can give an unbalanced impression that there are a lot more people succeeding than the actual reality.

And this is why I love hearing stories like this.

Just a regular, unassuming man struggling through everyday life. He works in a job he doesn't enjoy but it enables him to fulfill his responsibilities as a father. And when he goes home, he takes care of a daughter who can't take care of herself without any thought of what he could get in return.

Just an average, everyday hero. But his journey is no easier than those heroes we hear about conquering the world and living their dreams. And no less honourable.

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The first face

‘Face’ is very important to us Chinese and we always talk to about saving face.

And this has absolutely nothing to do with what I’m going to write about today.

But recently, while I was driving home from work, I was thinking about the ‘first face’ that you show your child and how important it is to them. Yes, I do think of very weird and random things when I’m stuck in traffic alone…

Particularly for young children, I believe that one of the ways you can build up their sense of self-worth is in that first contact you make with them after coming home from work.

Before you find out whether they were naughty or good that day from the babysitter. Before they act like an angel in front of you. Before they show or tell you the incredible things they achieved that day.

What is the face they see when you open the front door and they realise you are home?

Are you genuinely happy to see them, as though you had been anxiously waiting to see them the whole day, just waiting to sweep them up in your arms, give a bear hug and a big kiss on the cheek? Or are they standing back and waiting to see what kind of mood and expression you have on your face before approaching you?

And it’s not easy. Especially when your day at work was just pure crap and exhausting and tedious…There are times you want to just go home, ignore everyone and either vegetate in front of the TV or crash on the bed.

But on the whole, I’ve found it rather fulfilling to get my game face on before I walk through the door (even though I don’t manage to do it every day). It’s progressed to the point where many times when I’m driving home, I’m planning out a schedule of activities to make her face light up for the evening.

I’d be deciding on which park or playground to take her, whether to sneak out for ice cream after dinner (not too often, of course!), bringing her for a walk around the mall, or visiting my parents to surprise them. By the time I get home, I’ve got a whole agenda lined up.

And more often than not, it works.

In fact, I don’t remember one single time when we would get home after where she wasn’t bursting with laughter and impatience to tell her mummy everything she had done that evening.

Maybe once she stops appreciating these moments, I’ll feel more reluctant to expend so much time and energy on them. But for now, we’re having a blast.

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Father's Day

Father’s Day felt special for me this year. Nothing particularly significant happened during the weekend and I don’t think it’s attributed to any single factor, but I had a good one for a variety of reasons.

The weekend was about family

My company actually had a trip to a beach resort during the weekend and I had told them from the beginning that I couldn’t make it since I wanted to be home to help with the baby. I hadn’t realised it was Father’s Day weekend but I’m glad I stayed back.

Saturday started with a 6:30am 10km run with my father. As I ran alongside him, it really hit me suddenly how grateful I am that my parents are healthy and able to fully enjoy life and relationships. Then at night, there was a dinner with the wife’s side of the family.

On Sunday, my sister and brother-in-law visited, and we had a big dinner with my mom’s side of the family, along with my only surviving grandparents. It was wonderful to be able to bring Nat and see her interact with them, four generations apart!

I have an awesome father

I’m not shy to brag that no other dad compares to mine. I’ve never met a person who demonstrates more grace – no matter how much he gets backstabbed or cheated in the past, I’ve never once heard him judge the person or complain. There is absolutely no maliciousness in his nature at all.

And he has lived a life of sacrifice, always believing that you need to give your best in everything you do, and to strive for excellence no matter how small the task is. Even though he would be exhausted from work, he would spend time with each of us to take us through our schoolwork in the evenings, and take us out for sports and exercise every weekend.

Not once has he not given his family the very best he could in every way. And this is why, he’s always been my hero. There is honestly no one else I look up to more.

My two little munchkins

Spending time with them brings me joy like I’ve never experienced before. The sacrifice and tiredness that comes with parenthood is very real, but the purpose and richness that is added to daily life is immeasurable. To have people in your life that you would be willing to do anything and give everything is profoundly meaningful.

And it brings a new level of depth to the love and relationship between my wife and I as well. This is not to say that our relationship prior to having kids was shallow or superficial at all. But kids inevitably bring a new dimension – when I see her stay up through the night to monitor Nat’s temperature and when I cringe as I see her breastfeed Sam in the second week with cracked and bleeding nipples, I can’t help but fall more in love with my wife.

My Father in heaven

God has been so good in every way. Life has not often been smooth or easy, and many of the lessons I had to learn were exceedingly painful. But He’s been there throughout and having an unshakeable, infallible and unchanging point of reference has made all the difference for me.

I managed to make it to church for the first time since Sam was born and was reminded so strongly of the Father’s love for us. It meant so much to me that I could walk up to the altar with my earthly dad during the service, and stand and pray together as fathers. It was an important affirmation because there are still so many moments I feel so inadequate and insufficient as a husband and a father, and wish that I could be stronger or more mature.

So there you have it – four key reasons why I Father’s Day weekend was significant to me this year.

I leave you with three short advertisements that came out for the weekend that made me smile.

Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there!

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The different types of kisses

Once in awhile, I come home wearing the weight of the world on my shoulders, completely down and out, and somewhat sure that my life is about to come crashing down around me. It's just a tendency I have during certain seasons in my life and many times, I'm rather inconsolable until the circumstances around me start changing for the better.

It was on one of those days, I walked through the front door and saw my wife inside with my older daughter. She took one look at me and she knew what I was feeling (somehow she always picks it up straightaway). She never asks me what's wrong, just walks over, gives me a peck on the cheek, then turns around and tells Nat, "Papa had a bad day, come and give him a kiss".

Nat would run over squealing in delight, give me a hard hug and an even harder kiss on my cheek.

One day I was thinking about it and realised how significant those two kisses were to me.

The first kiss lets me know that I'm going to make it, no matter what tomorrow holds. The second kiss manages to extract a genuine smile from my face on a day when I feel like I'll never be able to smile again.

One kiss reminds me about hope. The other, about joy.

How can I not love my girls with everything I have?

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Bringing home another girl

Girls have a funny way of reacting when you bring another girl home for the first time. They suddenly want more attention, need to be held and kissed constantly, and whine over every single, little thing. They appear to have this unrealistic expectation that they should be at the center of your universe and when it’s no longer the case, you should see the heart-wrenching sobbing which follows.

Apparently, the mourning process has begun.

No, I’m not talking about my wife. And no, I didn’t bring home a mistress. I’m talking about bringing home the second baby.

When we had Nat, our first month consisted of three main areas: feeding, sleeping, pooing. Don’t get me wrong, it may be only three things to manage but it takes absolutely EVERYTHING out of you. Now that we have Sam, we still have to face the same three things, in addition to…a jealous princess.

The day that Sarah gave birth, Nat came to the hospital. She was not herself at all – she was quiet, moody and confused. We had tried to prepare her for many months, encouraging her to stroke mummy’s pregnant stomach and kissing it everyday, emphasising that Sam was inside. At the hospital, we told her that Sam had come out and was very excited to meet her, and that she was no longer inside mummy. It took her awhile to understand and she still sometimes went to stroke the tummy as though Sam was still inside.

We then carried her up to the bed where we did a ‘present exchange’, with Sam giving Nat a Mickey Mouse handbag and Nat giving Sam a monkey soft toy she had picked out from the store a few weeks back. That went relatively smoothly – Nat was still very mellow but she handled it both with grace and calm; receiving the gift with joy and handing over the gift to Sam without trying to hold on to it for herself. She even stroked Sam’s hair and gently hugged her.

Then, the next day we checked out of the hospital and went home. And this is when Nat started acting up quite a bit. She refused to let anyone carry Sam and if anyone even made a move towards Sam’s direction, she’d immediately run to them and demand to be carried. If baby Sam moved from one person to the next, Nat would follow them like a bloodhound, crying and asking to be carried and comforted.

Nat has started holding on to the cot whenever Sam sleeps and jumping up and down, shaking it to try to wake her – she even climbs in to lie down for awhile…sometimes when Sam is still sleeping inside! And whenever Sarah breastfeeds, Nat would climb on the bed, jump around the baby and demand to be carried or to hug Sam in the middle of breastfeeding. When we would gently scold her and hold her back from jumping on the baby, she would turn to us with tears in her eyes and shout “Nat ‘sayang’ baby Sam!!!”, as though asking us why we would stop her from cuddling her little sister.

It’s not been easy. At all. And it takes a lot of extra energy and time to manage this new dimension to family life. I have to intentionally spend a lot of one-to-one time with Nat now. Just yesterday, we went to the playground and then walked to the grocery store to share an ice cream (shhh, don’t tell mummy). I then bathed her and sat her on my lap while we went through some of her favourite nursery rhymes together. In total, I must have spent at least 1.5 hours with her alone.

Does she still act up? Of course. Does she still react like she’s lost her parents? Most definitely. Does she regress to a baby who apparently doesn’t know how to walk yet and want to be carried all the time? Yup. And does it take a lot out of us to constantly reassure and love her in words, actions and time? A million times, yes.

But is it worth it?

Yes, yes, and yes.

She may be a bratty princess during this season. But she’s MY bratty princess. And I love her to bits.

Even if she were to take an extraordinarily long time to get over being ‘dethroned’ as the only baby princess in my life (although I hope she doesn’t take too long!), I would still love her the same and that won’t ever change.

I’m not even biding my time and tolerating until she comes around. I loved spending time with her yesterday because in situations where she knows she has my undivided attention, she reverts to the baby girl I’ve known the last 1 year 9 months. The cheeky, irrepressible bundle of energy squealing with delight every time I chase her across the field or every time she slides down the slide without any help.

The unbelievably cute toddler who puts her index finger to her lips and says “SSHHHHH” when I tell her that we can’t tell mummy that we are having ice cream, and then forgets the moment we get home and runs to Sarah screaming “IIIIICCCEEEE CCCRRREEEEAAAAMMMM!” with uncontained joy…which is then accompanied by an accusing stare and then a resigned rolling of the eyes after from my wife.

Yup, she’s still my little peanut. And she may not be perfect my but she’s my kind of ‘imperfect’. I should warn that I’m allowed to call her naughty but I’d get very defensive if anybody else tells me that to my face.

I can’t help it – I’m just a terribly biased dad…and proud of it.

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Update

My wife gave birth to an incredibly beautiful baby girl on 31 May, 2013. She will be one week old today.

I was reading back on the post I wrote about my wife's first delivery and it made me realise what a huge difference it was this time around.

With Nat, my wife's labour started at 5am and she gave birth at 11pm - the entire labour lasted 18 hours! When we checked into the hospital, she was already almost 8cm dilated and the nurse said that she may have given birth in the car if had waited a bit more. She delivered Nat less than two hours after we arrived.

I have to say that this time round, we were a little calmer. Not by a lot, but definitely more assured as we had gone through it before.

My wife woke me up at 1am to let me know that labour had started. Immediately, I rushed to...my laptop to clear work - it was the month end and there were some reports which could only be done after every transaction for the month had been picked up by the back end system. I wanted to ensure that it was completed because once I got to the hospital I wouldn't be able to follow up.

I felt a tap on my shoulder at 3am to let me know that the contractions were progressing faster than before and so I rushed out what I could and we made our way to the hospital at about 3:30am. The nurse checked Sarah and she was around 3cm dilated. At 5:30am the doc arrived and immediately broke the water bag with that chopstick-like appliance.

From that point on the contractions and pain accelerated very quickly and by around 7:30am, she could start pushing already. Surprisingly, in 10 minutes, the baby was out (with Nat, it took 45 minutes of pushing and my wife was almost ready to give up because she had no more strength).

I'm happy to say that I was brave enough to cut the umbilical cord this time round. It wasn't as gross as I thought it would be. And I even watched the doc pull out the placenta. OK, now that was gross and I'll be having nightmares for awhile.

So that's our second experience in a nutshell. Definitely a lot less eventful than the first time round. There were two incidents which were absolutely hilarious...but I don't think I'm at liberty to share. You'll have to ask my wife when you meet her face to face and if you're close enough, she may just tell you the story.

As it was a natural delivery, Sarah and Sam only needed to stay for one night, and are now safe and comfortable at home. Sam's been an absolute gem and drinks milk every one and a half to two hours. This might sound difficult but it was much, much tougher with Nat so we're very happy with the current situation. I'll write more about it in future posts.

Here's another picture that I took of Sam on her second day in the world. Her eyes are already so alert and when she looks directly at me intently, it's like she can look into my heart and see how much I love her. She does look a little 'boyish' but to me, she is truly the most adorable, perfect baby in my life (Nat's a toddler now so she doesn't count).

I'll probably write more later on about how Nat's coping because that in itself is a big battle...

So many stories and so little time...

But it's OK - as I shared in my previous post, I believe it's infinitely more important to live life than to capture it.

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Parenting done right

I've been spontaneously saving some of the pictures or videos I like which I see being posted on Facebook related to parenting since my daughter has been obviously such a big part of my thoughts and days. I decided to share some of my favourite ones here from my 'stash'...

First up, here are six videos which put a smile on my face.

This dad built his kid a backyard roller-coaster

This father built an ice cream truck Halloween costume for his son who is in a wheelchair

How to get your kids to exercise 

A single dad singing a duet with his daughter 

A military dad who knew he would be away recorded himself reading storybooks 

A father who obviously hates roller-coasters accompanies his daughter... 

OK, I know that all the videos are of fathers but what can I say? I'm biased.

Secondly, here are six parenting 'wins' which I may attempt as my children grow up.

A mother's solution for when her children get too rowdy

A father's attempt to ensure his daughter doesn't hit 'dangerous' speeds

A father who didn't put up a fight when his daughter wanted to be the big, bad wolf

A mother's ingenious process to have her kids do their chores 

A loving father's Christmas present for his daughter 

Another present for his daughter but this time for her birthday 

And finally, here are some random pictures which made me chuckle...

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My girl

During the course of parenthood, there are always some special moments that stand out and leave an impression on you.

Everything is so fresh because new things happen practically on a daily basis, whether from your baby meeting a new milestone or doing something unexpected which makes you smile.

I can remember back when I first started dating my wife. The first time we held hands, the first time she told me that she loved me, the first time we kissed - each time, my heart would be pounding, my hands would be sweaty, and I would not be able to sleep the whole night thinking about it.

Not that my wife and I no longer have these romantic moments. It's just different...calmer, more steady and without the extreme emotional highs and lows associated with dating.

But I digress. The last 2 nights hold particularly memorable moments for me.

2 nights ago, I had just drifted off to sleep and my daughter crawled over, gave me 3 hard kisses on my cheek and whispered "night, night". It's something I sometimes do to her - kiss her on the cheek and say goodnight - but I didn't expect her to do the same thing back to me yet.

Just to make sure that I heard her, she kissed me another 3 times and said, "night, night", a little louder. I forced myself awake to say "goodnight", and finally she was satisfied and lay down to sleep with a smile on her face. I did likewise. :)

And then last night, I kissed her on the cheek as she was falling asleep and wished her goodnight, and she decided to move over and sleep on my shoulder. Although I can't sleep when someone does that because of the warmth, I allowed her to sleep there for maybe a good half hour before moving her back to her own pillow - she eventually came back and slept on one half of my pillow anyway.

Some of these moments help me to understand why parents are willing to give everything for their children. And they remind me yet again that it's all worth it.

Although I do see the benefit of children having their own room and bed, at this point of time, this is something I wouldn't trade for the world.

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Sneak peek

My mom just came back from a holiday in Shenzhen and bought some very pretty 'cheongsam' dresses for Nat. As my wife was on leave yesterday and spent the whole day with our baby, she decided to test out how well the dresses fit.

She sent me this picture with very clear instructions: DO NOT put on Facebook, Instagram or Twitter. No social media because she wants our daughter to debut her dresses during the Chinese New Year season.

But I really couldn't resist...

At least I followed her wish. No social media. Just a quick peek in this blog of which maybe only three people who know me personally still read.

ISN'T SHE GORGEOUS???

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