March Hols 2015: Journey to the west, to Kidstop Science Centre

Our day started out bright and early.
Well, not so early at 10 am actually, but early enough. 

We began our journey to the west by stopping midway to pick my MM. Since Hub was busy working, I had enlisted the help of my dear Magnificent Mom (MM for short la) to our trip to Kidstop.

After a hearty breakfast at a very warm Yakun (their aircon had broken down), we resumed our journey westwards and arrived at Science Centre 20 minutes later under the GPS's robotic directions.

The last time that I had set foot onto this place was over twenty years ago during a school excursion. Other than a vague recollection of the main building's structure and a McD outlet just outside, I was looking at everything else with brand new eyes. The proverbial tourist in my own country. 

Once there, we were greeted by this gigantic dinosaur display and Smiley S (SS) rushed forward eagerly and excitedly to have his photo taken. Little L (LL) on the otherhand was frightened of the dinosaur and was apprehensive in even walking up the main steps.

Glad to see that there was no queue at the ticketing counter, I purchased our 4 tickets and politely declined joining the Science Centre membership. $72 poorer and a short walkway later, we were finally begining our agenda for the day.
Kidstop at last. 

It was then that I realised the reason there wasn't any crowd at the ticketing counter was because we were late. Kidstop was split into two sessions. Morning sessions from 9.30am to 1.30pm, while afternoon sessions were from 2pm to 6pm. 

Arriving at 10.30am, we were greeted by swarms of children, some in a school group, others with their families, in a wild buzz of activities. Every where I looked, there were clusters of children engrossed with the various activities scattered around. 

As soon as they were cleared to enter, SS and LL dashed in different directions, into the mayhem of activities leaving MM and me frenzily trying to reel them back. After setting some ground rules (NO running ahead without the adults,) we spent quite some part of our initial period 'dipping our toes' in the first few activities nearest to the entrance. 

There were many kids milling around a control panel controlling a giant claw (much like the ufo catcher we see at arcades) that grabbed plastic balls from a big container and then shower it down onto children below it. SS was, among many other kids, vying to control the claw, and was reluctant to leave without having his uninterrupted turn at it.

A little further away, LL was fascinated with a set of binoculars, trying to spot the 'animals' hanging from the ceiling. Probably her first exposure to binoculars, she had to be guided towards the correct angle to look. There were three binoculars, each facing a different direction, and she busied herself moving from one to another, excitedly pointing out each animal that she had spotted.

Deciding that they had spent enough time on one activity, we moved them onwards into a large sandpit, where they attempted to dig/brush/scrape (depending on what tools they could find lying around in the sand) dinosaur bones like an archeologist. They emerged from the sandpit awhile later with their soles and butts dusted with sand.

As I was frantically brushing off the sand, I recalled this small bottle of talcum (NOT compact) powder lying somewhere in the deep recesses of my backpack. I remembered reading a mummy's useful tip that powder could help remove the sand from skin because the sand would slide right off and I tried it on the spot. It worked like a dream and we were (mostly) sand free in no time.

An hour later, we finally moved beyond the entrance and progressed further into Kidstop. SS spent quite another while at the indoor maze climbing up and down and up again, perspiring buckets in the process. I noticed that unlike some children who shout incessantly for their Mommies to look at them when they have climbed to the highest point, SS never called out to me to profess his achievement. I was half-disappointed in knowing that my boy didn't have this innate urge to want to share his achievements with me, but was also half-glad of the independent streak that he had. 

On the other corner, LL contented herself at the baby gym with super large lego blocks. Like me, she doesn't have much adventure in her soul nor is she a fan of heights. I'm still trying to encourage her sense of adventure and to try out new experiences, but it is evident that she needs more time.

Just beside the maze, there was this big intimidating slide that required the kids to don protective hats and overalls before being pulled up to a height with a pulley and sliding down whenever they felt ready to let go. I asked SS if he wanted to give it a try. He replied "No, I'm scared" before scampering off up his maze again. For some reason, I was relieved of his answer. Probably because it indicated that he possessed some sense of danger in him and that I didn't need to overly worry about him jumping headlong into doing something he didn't have confidence in. For a child who doesn't relate much, that meant a lot to me.

Lastly, we moved onto the last and quietest stretch of activities; its opening tucked neatly beyond the entrance to the omnimax theatre. Several small rooms with different themes for tinkering around lay along a walkway. 

There was a room with a stage in a corner complete with microphones and a camera like a production set and kids could perform and sing karaoke to nursery rhymes. However, neither of them seemed interested in the entertainment scene so that corner was promptly neglected. 

There was also a booth where kids could try their hand at stop-motion animation. I had thought that SS would be interested in this activity given the stop-motion tomica YouTubes that he had been surfing awhile back. But surprisingly, he paid fleeting attention to it before going off to sit in a car that simulated him driving on a busy street. 

As usual, LL could be found on the tamer activities and here, she was playing with a table full of red and green beans scattered all over, scooping and pouring them out with a container.

In another room, there was an assortment of animals that included a sleepy gerbil, a tree frog (which we couldn't spot), millipedes, chirping crickets and several yellow fluffy chicks. I wasn't surprised to see that the chicks were their favourite. 

Reaching the end of the exhibition, we began walking backwards towards the entrance for a final round at their favourite activities before we had to leave. SS immediately headed towards the giant claw while LL went back to her trio of binoculars.

Walking back, we managed to squeeze a session at the simulated typhoon booth where earlier on, had been either too crowded or the machine needed to cool down. Only SS was game to try it with me. We stepped into a small booth and hugged each other tightly as huge gusts of winds blew at us, twirling my already messy hair wildly into knots. SS might have exclaimed 'I'm scared' several times, but over the whirl of the wind I really couldn't hear anything. Ah well, we already 上了贼船 (were in a pirate boat) and I emerged seconds later looking like a mad lady.

They also entertained themselves at the wind tube that they had missed earlier on, watching as the ribbons get blown higher and higher before flying out from the top. Squealing as they tried catching the falling ribbons, they would put it back into the tube and watch the whole process again.

Before long, an announcement was made for visitors to leave Kidstop. It also signaled the time for our late lunch. MM and me were already famished from chasing them all around. 

After writing so much, it is easy to forget that we had only visited one small part of the Science Centre. But I was glad that SS and LL managed to participate in almost all the stations and I could tell that they really enjoyed their time at Kidstop.

This had been a really fruitful trip and clearly, we'd have to make another trip with papa soon.
Maybe we'd even join as members. Who knows?

A little Triumph in Maths

26th Jan 2015
Just one week ago, I lost my temper at this boy. I lost it in a flare and a torrent of scoldings. The Math syllabus had introduced counting up to 1000, and S who usually had difficulties with counting even into tens, and sometimes in his unfocused state (which happens pretty often), he also counts his ones wrongly.

So when the thousands were introduced, he struggled for quite a bit with the placement values. Then they had to learn number patterns and he too, struggled with finding the missing numbers. He couldn't understand the concept of adding (or subtracting) with the numbers before and after to get the missing numbers in between. It was very frustrating teaching him because in a number pattern of say, 200s, he would fill in the missing number with a ridiculous answer like '5'. Even though I had sat beside him and explained at length on how to derive the pattern, he still couldn't get 'it'. And I would get mad at him because, the answer was so obvious to me, yet the concept totally eluded him.

I knew that it wasn't fair to him by losing my temper like that, and that getting angry with him wouldn't suddenly make his mind wrap around the math concept, but in a moment of frustration and anger, I lost my temper at him. He too, was frustrated at me and at himself, for receiving my unnecessary temper and for not being able to understand.

So I pulled up my socks and did revision with him on his textbook over the weekend; something that I ought to have done right from the beginning but hadn't been conscientious about it. I tried teaching him variations of the examples the textbook gave, twisting this way and that, and forwards and backwards, and it took quite a bit of efforts (and threats) to stay his attention as it strays away after a short while.

Hub also reinforced values of the hundreds by showing him the top speed of several cars listed in a magazine, teaching him to compare the speeds of the cars and which model went the fastest by looking at the km/hr speed.

The next few days after that, his understanding of the math concept still wobbled as he couldn't yet fully grasp the things that had been taught and I didn't think too much into it.

Today as usual, we started on his homework straight after dinner. He presented me with a few pages of math worksheets on long additions into the hundreds. I saw that while he had attempted two questions on his own (with wrong answers), he had also pre-wrote an additional ten carried over from the ones value on all the questions including those that he hadn't yet done. I was dismayed.

I rubbed off all his little ones and explained that while I was happy he had attempted some of them by himself, they were done wrongly. I then guided him step-by-step on the first question and suddenly like a lit bulb, he just knew how to handle the rest of the sums. I watched with amazement and pride, his pudgy fingers moving as he calculated the additions with minimal mistakes. It was literally like the 'gears just clicked'.

The comments that flowed from him subsequently as he breezed through the next few questions were varying versions of 'aiyah this one so easy, I know how to do already', or 'easy peasy lemon squeezy', or even 'see, I'm very good in maths now!'

Seeing his smugness and ease in completing the sums, I couldn't decide if I wanted to scoff or laugh at his 'revelations'. But I was very glad for him because these reactions were a complete contrast from the usual blanked out, perplexed or guarded look he usually had while I was teaching him maths. It brought a smile to my lips but I hid that smile as I listened to him chattering animatedly on how 'good' he was in maths now. 

I couldn't bear to burst his bubble nor afford to indulge and overly boost his ego, so I told him quietly that while he was doing a good job, he had to do his sums properly and carefully to avoid careless mistakes. I am not sure how much of what I had said went through his inflated ego and into his mind, or how long he will retain this topic since he tends to forget the things that he learn rather quickly. But today has undoubtedly been a small triumph for us in the confusing and complexing world of math and its problem(atic) sums. And I let him soak in that triumph. 

It is these tiny little triumphs that give me - and him, the strength and perseverance to continue teaching and learning, and moving forwards inch by inch in the many miles ahead to cover.

Well done my boy.

I hope you and I will never forget the feel of today's triumph, giving us the strength and tenacity to always try to strive towards overcoming the difficulties we face.

2015 Week Two

It's 11.30 in the night. Sitting alone at the dining table, I attempt to self reflect while winding down for the day.

We're barely into week two of 2015, translating equally into the second week of Primary Two, and I'm ashamed to say that I have already blown off my temper at S. Why do P2s have to learn into the thousands?!! Did I learn that in lower primary as well? I can't recall obviously.

In fact, recollections of my time in primary school is vague at most. Bits and pieces of happenings around but nothing about the syllabus. However, I can recall that I enjoyed lessons (at least for primary school) and that I definately didn't have as much homework as him.
It's frustrating to compare, and I know that the comparison is irrelevant now, but the mental strain of the current syllabus for an eight year old somehow seems too much for not only him, but myself too, to take.

After work and a quick shower and dinner, we immediately start on his homework (2 pages of Maths and English each) and a little preparation for spelling on Wednesday. A glass of milk later and its 10pm. My boy crawls into bed, eyes red and sleepy, and he's flat out asleep within the next ten minutes. He gets his bare minimum of eight hours sleep before waking up bleary eyed the next day for school.

And this cycle goes on for him for the whole school week. On the luckier days that he doesn't have homework, I get to take a break as well. (Provided that he has learnt his spelling.) I get to unwind and have some me-time before the night gets too late. These times are like catching a breeze during the hot summer days - a brief respite in the neverending heat.

Come weekends, we don't try to pile the usual enrichment classes onto him. Instead, we enrol him for non-academic classes of swimming and art lessons, leisure and life skills instead of focusing on the academics. He has also expressed his interest in wushu or taekwondo and we may register him for a class if we find a suitable one.

So, in the blink of an eye, the weekend ends and the cycle continues on until the school holidays arrive for a much needed breather.
A working mom's life is tough.
A student's life is tougher.

First Day, Primary Two. Learning journey for Mommy.

The first day of school today.

Doubtlessly, many of my fellow parent friends have been busy posting pictures of their P1 going children. As I scroll through my news feed, delighting in the pictures of the many children in various uniforms, I am reminded of this same time last year when S first attended primary one.

Kan cheong and nervous as they were, I had posted my fair share of photos of S in his oversized uniform and huge Mcqueen bag, looking all uncertain, afraid, and a little excited. I didn't post a photo of myself then, but if I had, you would have seen me, anxiously wringing my hands and with tears in my eyes. And the smile that I mustered as I waved him goodbye while he boarded the school bus certainly didn't match the frown that I had knitted between my brows. 

That significant moment the automatic doors of the bus closed in my face, signaled the start of the letting-go process.

My child, who had been a baby in my eyes up until then, who had never left anywhere without me, was now boarding the bus alone, and away from me. The fact was made even more obvious as I stood there, waving as the tail lights became smaller and smaller.

Soon after, we had immediately scrambled into the car and trailed the bus to school. And from there, was another big moment in learning to let go as I forced my feet to remain still while watching my scrawny, unsure boy from afar, losing his way around the unfamiliar compound.

These scenes that I had described were just the surface ones. There were many other learning points that went on backstage before this big day. For starters, I had overlooked in teaching S the concept of money and of buying things, and only gave him a crash course the night before. That subsequently led him to be quite confused while buying food at the canteen. For months, all he could handle were two one-dollar coins because he only knew that he had 'one' or 'two monies'. If we gave him an assortment of change, he would only buy something to eat and nothing to drink, or vice versa. 

I also didn't tally his booklist and did not realise that the school diary was missing. I would later realise that the diary was an important bridge between parents and teachers because they wrote everything on that little spiral book. All the homework, assignments, tasks to do, notes and reminders were written in there. And because I could never count on S to relay to me the messages or homework that he had to do, that meant that I didn't know when spelling was, or that he needed to bring rags to school the next day.

As the months passed, S slowly settled into school and its routine in his own ways while I gradually learnt the ways of being a primary-1-mommy, although I still made several mistakes in the months that followed. 

In one particular incident, I had read in the weekly newsletter that S had to bring his apron to some sort of a home economics class every Thursday. At the back of my mind, I knew that he had a school issued apron lying somewhere unopened in the box but somehow, my mind didn't register that fact. I then went on to Daiso and bought him a nice, green polka-dotted one instead. Smugly packing that to school for him, I only realised my mistake two weeks later when in a chance conversation, he mentioned that all his friends had laughed at him. The guilt that I felt in shaming my son then was immeasurable. But now, I snigger to myself whenever I recall what I had put him through.

Fast forward one year later, I am no longer a newbie schooling parent as I prepare S for his journey onto primary 2. With one year of experience under my belt, I can now pack his school bags with surer hands and a calmer disposition. It is also much easier 'letting go' now. Watching my not-so-scrawny-anymore boy handle school with ease and confidence on his first day today, I am heartened and reminded by his progress.

He has improved over the year, and although not 'perfect', he is better at handling his money now, surer of his school's syllabus and has improved in answering questions. Beyond these, there is still much more things for him to learn and realise along the way and for me too, to learn and realise together with him. As I learn how to help him learn in managing school, I realise that the school is not only a place of learning for children, but for parents alike.

As we continue onto our second leg of his journey this year, I look foward to the progress that we may cover together, and the discovery of new wonders everyday.

Together, may we scale greater heights than the year before.

Happy schooling everyone.

Post christmas; Pre new year.

The list of parties that we had lined up over the period of christmas have ended one after another over the past few days. The feasting has also trickled down in accordance. The mountain of prettily wrapped presents that had been sitting in my room for the past few weeks have already been given away, and a pile of opened presents take its place. 

As I glance at the new boxes of toys stacked upon one other, it seems to me that the number of presents the kids received this year, doubled what we had given. I realise belatedly that most of the toys S had received were not of cars.

My son has this single obsession with cars since he was a toddler. His conversational topics often, if not always, revolve greatly around the subject of cars. Car models, brand names, racing terms and movies spew out endlessly and expertly from him while I listen on in befuddled confusion. The 101 questions that come from him are also often in relation to cars. ('Is the Acura NSX faster or the Nissan GTR R35?')

Due to his particular interest, we have amassed (both bought and received) countless toy cars throughout his growing years. In trying to 'diversify' his interest, we have experimented with buying him remote controlled cars, tamiya, and various sets of road and train tracks, on top of the many hot wheels and tomica that he already owns.

We have also tried buying him typically boy character toys such as Ben10, Ironman, Superman, TMNT, Maxsteel and the likes, but soon realise that non-car toys could only sustain his interests for a fleeting period of 2 days maximum. 

No matter what we bought, he would always go back to his little cars; running them along tracks, down makeshift slopes, pretend racing and drifting (complete with sound effects), watching the wheels turn. 

He especially liked the hot wheels and tomica range because they fit easily into his palm and/or pockets whenever he goes out. The number of 'travelling companions' that he brings along each time ranges from at least two (according to him 'one car cannot drag race') to six, or however many his pockets can hold. 

As such, we always fell back to buying him cars, or had people continually gifting him with cars simply because they were known to be his constant favourite.

This christmas however, he's received very little presents of cars, but we are thankful of it. We want to say thank you to each and everyone of you for the wonderful presents. But more than that, thank you for putting S's strengths and weaknesses into your thoughts, placing careful considerations in choosing him a gift that would help diversify and expand his interests away from cars, helping us along in our neverending efforts and attempts to exposing him to a wider range of experience. 

For those who had gifted him with cars, thank you, because you know he loves his cars best and that christmas for him wouldn't be complete without any presents of cars to open to. 

It's back to reality as I pick up remnants of torn wrappers strewn all over the floor, clearing (or attempting to clear) left over food in the fridge, and keeping away the presents that we have received. 

As the new year sets upon us, I bid a reluctant goodbye to the month long hols and prep myself and S for the new school cycle to come. Oddly enough, I (kind of) look forward to the beginning of the new school year, which will be re-opening in just a few days time. 

As S embarks onto a new journey in Primary 2, I am no longer the newbie schooling parent as I was at the beginning of this year. I shouldn't be nervous anymore, but yet I am. With bated breadth, I await with anticipation, the new experiences and challenges that may come, and hope to rise up to each one in my own way.

It is a mystery what 2015 will bring us. May it be a good and fruitful one for us and everyone around. Or with the recent trend on 'local upsize'; may it be a Great year!
Happy new year everyone.

Cinderella and a Christmas party

We arrived home at the stroke of midnight. As we turned into the driveway, the car was still a car, and not a pumpkin. And no one had turned into horses or mice. All I had were 2 sleepy children in the backseat. 

One fought sleep hard, but lost and was now exhaustedly sleeping away with her mouth wide open. The other looked on stonily, eyes kept wide open by imaginery toothpicks in the form of a mantra that went 'Go home can open presents. Go home can open presents.' Those words sustained him until we arrived home, torn paper wrappers and all. 

We weren't returning home from a ball. We had just came back from a yearly xmas gathering with my old school friends. Some of us had known each other for twenty three years. Some longer, at twenty nine. As we grew through the years, we watched alongside as each other experienced life going through the different phases. 

From individuals, we watched as some progressed into couples, and then to families of four, and some five. From childhood to awkward tweens, to motherhood and currently into middle age and beyond, we have certainly come a long way together. 

Our Christmas gathering has been a yearly affair for the past (six, maybe seven?) years. Due to various personal commitments, our meet ups throughout the year can get quite sporadic and random. It is also tricky trying to arrange a suitable timeslot for everyone. As such, our meetings are rarely in a complete group of six. But at the end of every year, we would all be anticipating and looking forward to this gathering where attendance was an (almost) unspoken compulsory. 

This year, to accomodate everyone's schedules, we had the gathering way ahead of Christmas. We spent a wonderful evening together with husbands and kids. The food that we had were simple; some bought, some made. But the conversations that flowed between us were rich. Good times, as always, simply pass by so quickly. 

Amidst rocking dining chairs and screaming children running up and down, we came together and shared, with the many years of our friendship, laughters, food and warm conversations all around. It was heartwarming not only to see and catch up with everyone present, but also to witness the growth of each others' children through the years. 

Some of them that we've seen as babies, have now embarked onto primary school. One is still in the crawling stage, and another has just begun to speak in complete sentences. It is a sobering thought to know that as we see these children growing and progressing differently every year, we too, age in return as the years go by. 

In time to come, perhaps our gatherings will come to a full circle, when these same little children that we now tow along, attend future gatherings together as young men and women and with their own friendships forged amongst them. It would indeed be a heartening sight. 

When I left the party last night, I didn't leave behind a glass slipper. Instead, I left with a tummy full of food, an armful of presents, and a heart filled to the brim with gratitude and love for each and everyones' friendship. 

Thank you ladies, for making all of these possible. 

May we have many, many more gatherings to come. 

Merry christmas, and meet up soon.

P1 Term 4 - end of school

I watched with pride as his little footsteps hurried across the stage. He shook his VP's hand and stood posing as the photographer snapped pictures. My boy was up on stage collecting his Good Progress Award for Chinese language.

For a child with speech difficulties, struggling with daily conversations and in relating events, it was an immensely proud moment for hubby and I as we watched the scene unfold before us.

This same boy had once dreaded going to kindy because of his fear in chinese lessons, even feigning illness on several occasions just to skip school. Subsequently starting primary one with only a smattering of chinese in him, he had progressed over the year beyond our wildest imaginations, improving little by little, to receiving an award on stage.

Although his report card pegged him only at 53 for his chinese, we were nevertheless humbled and touched by his efforts and improvements. His progress then at kindergarten 2 had been deproving. It was only after months of pondering and probing did the teacher and I come to the conclusion that because he lagged too widely behind his peers, he had totally given up on trying to catch up. His confidence suffered and as a result, he dreaded attending chinese classes. 

I wasn't exactly overly worried then because for a child with learning difficulties, I knew that we were able to get him excused for Chinese in primary school. But shortly after he started school, we made a decision to engage a chinese tutor instead. Our intentions then were nothing academic. We had only wanted to try to bridge the gap since he was 'starting on a clean slate' with new peers. We were hoping that at the very least, we could reduce the fear he felt in things chinese, and improve his confidence in learning and grasping the language. Ultimately, our hopes for him were that he would be able to converse in simple mandarin.

Engaging a tutor didn't come cheap. But in wanting to prevent S from dreading school once again, we decided to give it a shot. I'm not sure if it was because the tutor was effective, or that we began to put in more effort to speak more mandarin to him at home, or a mixture of all the above, but over the months we noticed his confidence level creeping upwards. 

His outright rejection towards things chinese slowly decreased, and he was gradually more willing to answer in simple mandarin. Although we were heartened by his progress, we didn't think too deeply into it. So long as he was progressing, no matter how slowly, we were encouraged.

Seeing him walk up the stage to collect the award was truly the icing on the cake. Since S wasn't very often relating school events back to us, we only got to know that he was an award recipient moments before stepping foot into the auditorium. The school had recognised the efforts he put in and the progress that he had shown, and so did we. As he stood on stage, I clapped as loudly as I could with tears in my eyes. 

All the sacrifices that were made, the cancellation of appointments, the rushes home after work, the tight squeeze of time after dinner and before bedtime coaching him on his homework, the endless frustrations and worries expended throughout the months, the scarcity of me-time, these simply melted away the moment we saw him on that stage. He made us very, very proud parents with his improvements and progress.

The fall of those red velvet curtains after the award ceremony and year end concert also signified the end of school for the year. Over the year, S has developed from a scrawny, unsure boy, into one who is more outspoken and confident, filling out (a little too) snugly into his initially over-sized uniform. His preference is fast angling towards somewhat of a thrill seeker and sports enthusiast, showing so much more agility and dexterity in his movements. Evident in his taking of steps two by two, sometimes in threes, he also enjoys jumping off from a (short) height, and in taking the road less travelled (read as manouvering grassy slopes instead of walking on flat cement ground).

As I watch S lounging on the bed at home, playing on the ipad with intense concentration and deft fingers, rationing the amounts of nitro that he has in manouvering his golden Ferrari on Need For Speed, I realise that time will slowly develop this boy into a child of his own character. 

He needs much improvements in his other subjects (he failed maths) and many other aspects such as his patience, span of attention, cognitive and social skills, and his initiative to help, amongst many others. The progress will be slow, but nevertheless, we will get there by and by in his own time.

The closure of the primary one journey opens a new chapter for next year with new sets of books and bigger-sized uniforms. There is much more to accomplish with him in the neverending journey of education. I'm not sure how our journey will go, or where the road will lead us to, but as I hold my boy's pudgier hand, I steel myself for the similar but tougher cycles to come in Primary Two. 

In the meantime however, all that I will be doing is putting up my feet and enjoying the December holidays. 

Till the next year.