Goodbye KAP

As the week drew to a close, the chapter closed on another of my memories as King Albert Park (or KAP, as we knew it) shut its doors for the last time.

Smiling perhaps a little too brightly for how I was really feeling.

My acquaintance with KAP is fairly recent, but there is still much sentiment. Our very first home was walking distance to KAP and its presence, with the access it provided to Cold Storage and Macs was one of the factors in our decision to buy the place. So it came to be that during our time there, KAP was our neighbourhood hangout. We came by for the occasional Maccers breakfast and guilty supper, and made many many grocery runs at Cold Storage. We popped by Bengawan Solo when it was still there to buy pandan cake for church, and we were regulars at the Video-Ezy with that was still there, borrowing latest releases and buying ex-rental discs.

It was part of what made home, well, home. I treasure it most for the outlet it provided me during Noey's newborn days when I just needed to get out of the house and go somewhere -- anywhere. Many a time I packed him into his stroller and the two of us would make the slow walk to KAP where I would buy a drink or some random item from Cold Storage, just getting a breather. It bore witness to my frazzled moments. I needed the space and this place provided me a purpose and destination, and for that I was grateful. This besides the fact that it was my regular grocery stop. There were many instances when I would make the to-and-fro trip on foot just to pick up groceries with Noey, conveniently carting everything back in the basket of my trusty stroller. 

I remember the day I heard the news that KAP had been sold and would be torn down. That familiar resigned feeling that no building or space is ever safe in this country. It happened with the beloved National Library, it happened with the National Stadium. Here it is, happening to another building that mattered to me. I still find it incredulous that of the many educational institutions that I've studied in, only one remains in the same location that it was in when I studied there. And for the one remaining school, it wouldn't be for long before its buildings are no more as a deadline has already been drawn up for its move. If people feel a sense of dislocation with this land, this surely is one of the reasons.

Anyway. 

I almost missed the fact that KAP was about to close but for the photos that started popping up on my social media feeds. I couldn't let it go without a final walk through to say goodbye, so when the husband had a morning off last week, I persuaded him to drop by to have breakfast there one last time. We ate, we reminisced. We smelt the familiar smell of the rotisserie wafting through the carpark and we did a last grocery run at Cold Storage.

The ramp down to the carpark, which is the kids' fav: running or just hanging on in a 'runaway' trolley. Fun times. 

It's been 23 years!

Breakfast. I've always preferred sitting downstairs where there's natural light.

The section upstairs.

The familiar sight of Cold Storage.

Shopping, with about half the shelves already cleared in preparation for the vacating of the space.

 Goodbye KAP. You will be missed.

Chicken Rice Memories at Pow Sing

I think everyone has their favourite chicken rice stall, and often, it is the one that they grew up eating. It certainly is the case for me.

My favourite? Pow Sing at Serangoon Gardens.

I'm not referring to big, air-conditioned Pow Sing Restaurant along Serangoon Gardens Way though. If you had grown up in the 80s and early 90s in Serangoon Gardens, you would know that there were 2 "Pow Sings". (They both had the same Chinese name: 報喜.) One is of course the restaurant I referred to. This used to be called Pow Sing Hainanese Chicken Rice when it first started, and serves steamed chicken with other nonya dishes. But before the owners set up Pow Sing Restaurant, they started the Posin chicken rice stall which serves roast chicken at the corner coffeeshop along the same row. And it's that stall that was my favourite chicken rice of all time.

We ate that chicken rice virtually every Sunday after church service, for as long as I can remember. I lived in Serangoon Gardens for 5-6 years, but my grandmother lived nearby till I was 17 so we always came back to the area.

Our Sunday lunches were routine affairs for most part: Roasted chicken rice for everyone with a side order of roasted pork (siu bak), and an extra bowl of the soup for me. And on top of our chicken rice, my sister and I, erm, also shared a bowl of prawn bee hoon-mee from the other stall. Yes, we were real gluts back then!

But back to the chicken rice: It was always a winner. Crispy brown skin over tender chicken. That lime that you squeeze over the chicken to give it. The cucumber on the plate, soaked in sauce. The fragrant rice. And all eaten with good chilli. I loved it. Even today, it is the only roasted chicken that I would order.

I panicked when a few years ago, the news broke that the corner coffeeshop, Cardon Restaurant, it was called, was going to taken over by a Citibank branch. I was losing my favourite chicken rice to a boring bank outlet??
Fortunately it appeared that the owners were prepared for this eventuality so they set up shop in a shop unit a few doors down. Whew, disaster averted.

I think it's undergone some changes since. Over the past weekend, we were in the area after attending little Teanne's birthday party and decided drop by to get our chicken rice fix at Pow Sing Kitchen.

It's been a while since I've been back and I was both surprised and delighted to see the boss himself chopping chicken that day. I've seen this man graduate from being behind the cleaver, to helping with the serving to mainly just supervising as the business thrived. So I was not expecting to see him sweating it out that day. Perhaps they were short-handed.

There's the 老板 chopping chicken!

Can we have our chicken rice yet?

It is different now from the time when it used to be at the coffeeshop of course: cleaner and swankier, with some air-conditioning blowing through. You now also have the option of ordering many nonya dishes to go along with your meal. But we were there for the chicken, and I'm glad to say, the chicken was almost as good as I remembered.

The best roast chicken around!

It was a great walk down memory lane for me, and I left telling myself I must be back again, soon.

Which is your favourite chicken rice stall? Do share!

Playsets of Yesteryears at Raffles Place

It is part of my morning routine to drop DD off at work. Sometimes Naomi comes along with me, "sometimes" being those days when she gets teary when we're about to leave the house and clings on to me for dear life. Which, you know, is virtually everyday. 

That's how she ended up coming with us for the drop-off last Friday, but on this day, I decided that we were going to have a little breakfast snack, just her and me. And what better opportunity than this to check out the roving Playsets of Yesteryears exhibition cum playground, right smack in the middle of Raffles Place?

I decided to get us some Old Chang Kee to munch on, which I thought was particularly appropriate for the setting. Old Chang Kee curry puffs were a favourite treat of mine, growing up, and they are still my favourite version of the popular snack. Of course, back in my day (gosh, I do sound old, don't I?), they were much cheaper. I still remember the days when I would hand over 40¢ of my precious pocket money to buy myself a piping hot curry puff from the stall in a coffee shop at Serangoon Gardens. And then 40¢ became 50¢. And then it became 70¢ and I indignantly decided I would boycott them because of the incessant increases. Of course I couldn't hold out for long.

Today it's $1.40(!!) for a curry puff and I still feel the indignation rise in me over the latest price rise, but I (grudgingly) pay anyway, because I still crave the familiar taste.

On this morning, I got Naomi a stick of fishballs and myself a curry puff, and we found ourselves an empty swing on which we sat companionably, enjoying our food.

Yes, I did try to regale her with tales of my childhood, but as you can see, she was very focused on her fishballs and showed no interest whatsoever in my attempts to tell her about how I had a swing set just like this one in my home and how my sister and I used to imagine we were on a huge swinging Viking ship and swing it as high as we could.

(And would you believe that right after she finished the fishballs, she looked at me expectantly and said "Can I have my curry puff now?" This girl just loves her food!)

There was no more food but there was plenty of play! Up and down, and round and round we went. 

But the biggest highlight were the swings. We both loved them. "I'll swing myself," she told me after I gave her few pushes to start off, but she giggled too as I swung myself higher and higher, with abandon.

I left with my heart lighter too.

I'm planning to go down a few more times before the exhibition moves on in mid-May. After that, you can also catch it at East Coast Park (June to end-July), AMK-Bishan Park (mid-August to mid-October) and the SIngapore Botanic Gardens (November to December). I know I will be looking out for it!

Chicken Rice Memories at Hainanese Delicacy

I've been on a nostalgia roll recently.

This was triggered off by two things: National Day, which for me evokes memories of National Days past, especially now when I see my son enthusiastically singing the same national songs that I learnt as a child; and the blog posts from the Lovin' My Spot in SG blog train, inspired me to think about the places I loved in my youth.

So you can imagine my excitement when I stumbled upon one of my old haunts when I was at Far East Plaza recently.

I am talking about Hainanese Delicacy on the 5th Floor of Far East Plaza, where I got my regular chicken rice fix back in secondary school. Back then, my friends and I used to catch a bus after school to Far East Plaza quite often, and there were three places where we used to eat: (1) McDonalds, with their (almost) iconic stone tables out in front of the building, (2) Ritchie Rich, a food joint with sizzling hot plate noodles (I don't really know what else they sold since that's all I ever ate!), and (3) Hainanese Delicacy.

The first two places are gone by now. I didn't expect otherwise, not with the relentless pace of change in this city that we live in. It's sad but true that I just don't expect places of my childhood to still be found in their original form. I was therefore thrilled when I realised that not only was Hainanese Delicacy still around, in exactly the same spot as it was 20 years ago, it also looked almost exactly the same in real-life as it does in my memory.

It was Saturday evening when I came upon it, and it was too late for us to get a table - they were sold out for the evening. So I made a mental note to go back for lunch during the week. I suggested it to a friend when we arranged to meet for lunch, only to have her tell me that she and her husband regularly eat dinner there. Hah. Actually I'm not sure why I stopped going back. I guess I just moved on. After secondary school, I moved on to junior college and start hanging out in different places, and just forgot to come back. Anyway, on this occasion, my friend kindly agreed to humour me and I got to re-visit this old favourite.

The view from the front of the food outlet, looking reassuringly familiar. And crowded.

It felt so familiar stepping in. So many things were still comfortably the same. The sign board outside, the layout, the seating, and even the chicken statuettes lining the walls. I kind of remember the chickens being placed lower down though, and the sauces used to be on shelves under the chickens, and placed together with a basket for utensils. We found the sauces on the table, in place of the low shelves on the wall we found neat little laminated cards with the drink list.

I ordered the same thing I always used to order. The Kiam Chye Duck Soup and the Chicken Rice (White Chicken). I waited with bated breath for them to arrive. And the verdict? The food was as good as ever, and yes, still tasted the same too. I was so happy.

It might not look like much, but this is really AWESOME kiam chye duck soup. Full-bodied and flavourful. Yum.

Juicy, succulent chicken. We order a mix of white chicken and roast chicken to share. This was a portion for 3.

Noey and the dinos joined us for lunch. Looking rather worried that Mummy would finish all the food!

Did I also say that the prices still seem to be rather low? I didn't ask for the breakdown but think it was about $4 a plate for the chicken rice.

It isn't my favourite chicken rice - the rice here at Hainanese Delicacy just isn't as fragrant as I like my chicken rice to be, but the chicken is smooth and tasty, and the kiam chye duck soup is super. I've never tried any of the other sides. Truth be told, I never even knew they had other sides. Haha. I guess as a poor student on limited pocket money, a plate of chicken rice is good enough! Maybe I'll try some the next time I come back.

For now, I'm just happy to have re-discovered something from the good old days again. And glad that I'm able to share some of that with my son.

Hainanese Delicacy
Hainanese Specialist Boneless Chicken Rice
14 Scotts Road
Far East Plaza #05-116
Singapore 228213

Primary School Musings

I popped down to my old primary school this morning and was puzzled by the many cars I encountered in the driveway. Until I approached front lobby and realised that today was D-Day for 2013 Primary 1 registration -- balloting day for Phase 2C. A quick look at the board and I realised that there were 50 applicants vying for 29 places. Balloting was to be carried out for all Singaporean children living within 1km of the school.

As I went into the school office clutching my precious old Report Book, my heart went out to the parents who were anxiously awaiting the results of the ballot. I myself was at the school this morning to get some of my documents verified for alumni membership. With that sorted, I hope to have a relatively fuss-free experience registering my daughter in my old school when the time comes for her to enter Primary 1. Which is in about, err, 6 years time. (Yes, I am rather early about it but I figured I'd get it out of the way before they raise the alumni fees again.)

There is a sense here amongst parents that getting into the right primary school is the be-all and end-all. I personally don't think it's your primary school that matters -- it's which secondary school you go to that leaves a more indelible imprint on you. That said, your primary school does play a part in determining the secondary school you end up in, doesn't it? And with regards to primary schools, no matter how the ministry tries to sell it, everyone knows that not all schools are created equal. Some have more sprawling grounds, or offer a wider or more interesting range of extra curricular activities. Older schools which have been around for a long time have a richer tradition and history, and a more distinct identity. They often have more active alumni too which translate into deeper ties with the school and a stronger school spirit. Each school is also driven by its leadership, and as with any organisation, the quality of its leadership would vary from school to school. And of course, some schools seem to have a tradition of producing top students, though I don't think this is a very reliable gauge of how well your child will do.

The one thing I would agree with the ministry about is that popular or branded primary schools do not necessarily have better teachers. I still remember how my Primary 2 Maths teacher in my "good school" used to set us our exercises and then take a nap, right there in class. She even snored. My mother was appalled. Haha.

I don't think this happens any more. At least, I hope not! There are good teachers and bad teachers everywhere, though I do believe that with standards of teaching and training having been raised over the years, present day teachers should be of some standard. 

We've pretty much decided that, barring any unforeseen circumstances like a change in the system to remove priority registration for alumni (which would be quite a catastrophe), we'll be sending Naomi to an old primary school of mine. Partly because it is literally the closest school to home, and partly because I'm lazy and don't want to do any parent-volunteering. But also, I am keen for her to enter the school because I felt - and still feel - an affinity for it. I attended two primary schools and somehow this school, where I spent my lower primary years is still the school I think of more fondly. It is the school I think of as "my school", as opposed to my other primary school.

I have never spent any time at its current campus, but Naomi's Yiyi spent 3.5 years out of her 10 years in the school at this very campus. My elder cousins also attended the same school and I know one of my cousin's daughters will be entering the school next year for Primary 1. It is what you may call our family school, and I would like my daughter to share in a part of that tradition.

Our a whim, while I was on campus today, I decided to drop by the canteen and order a bowl of noodles for myself for breakfast. The noodle stall at my old school was legendary, by the way. And for the three years that I studied there, I ate noodles from the stall everyday. I'm not even kidding. I was such a regular that when I returned for a visit after my school transfer, the uncle who tended the stall asked me, "小妹妹， 你为什没有来了？" I tell you, it really broke my heart.

I ordered my usual order from ever so long ago - mee soup with everything in it. (It cost me $1.50 today when it used to cost me 40 cents.) I'm not sure what I was expecting. The mee pok uncle had passed on quite a few years ago and I knew it would not be the same. But to my surprise, the soup that I had this morning was very similar. Similar enough to evoke memories of running to the tuckshop everyday to get my noodles, and all the happy times I spent my recess running around the field playing 老鹰捉小鸡，playing hopscotch on the tiles, scaling metal posts, and jumping to zero-point and circle-circle.

These are my schoolday memories, amongst others. And I hope someday my little girl will make her own in the same place - if not physically, then at least in character - where I did.

Hmmm, Mummy, your grades ain't too impressive...

I Get To Vote!

It's Polling Day today. Today, I'll be casting a ballot for the first time in 10 years.

Back in 2001, I played a part in making my choice in the General Elections. Today however, we will be voting in a very different election for the President.

I thought very long and hard about posting about my thoughts about this election and my choice earlier on, but decided not to. This is mainly because in this election, I know I will not be able to be impartial and objective. Friends on Facebook will know that I clearly support Dr Tan Cheng Bock. Of the many reasons for that choice, one of them is that members of his team and his family include people whom we hold very dear to us. In this case, I am happy that Doc is also the person I think best suited for the job. Knowing him personally, I can say that he is warm and genuine, and is really a people person. I think that the fact that so many of his men -- ordinary Singaporeans -- from his Ayer Rajar constituency continue to show such undying devotion to him even after he has retired from politics reflects well on him and speaks volumes of the type of man he is. If you look at his team, you will realize that Doc continues to surround himself with ordinary folk, and not the rich or influential.

I read a comment somewhere that said that what you do in the years before an election is more important than what you do or say during an election. This comes through clearly from the many testimonies that so many of Doc's old patients and constituents have put forth. A person can keep saying that he has the heart for the people, but if in the many years prior he can show nothing to evidence that, one should be careful not to be taken in.

I think many people have their reasons for backing their choice of candidate. Some well-thought through, some frivolous. The beauty or bane of the one-man one-vote system is that everyone gets that one equal say in it. I won't ask you to vote wisely, for what is wise? The role of the President does mean many different things to different people. But do give your choice some measure of consideration. For me, after a bruising General Election just months ago, I would hope that today, whoever the chosen one may be, he will, as head of state, command the respect of all Singaporeans alike and bring the people together and not divide society further.

Ok, let's go vote!

Edited to add:

I got to cast my first vote in 10 years at my old school. Possibly the first time in 15 years I've been back!

Noddy!

Noey has a little set of Noddy look-and-learn books that my Father-in-law got for him in Sydney, at DD's suggestion. DD loves Noddy, the series being the books that inspired his love for reading. He'd been telling me to get them for Noey, but they can no longer be found in bookshops here these days.

So when I got a mailer from Book Depository some time back informing of a 10% off everything sale, I decided to search for Noddy, and to my delight, they did carry some of the books. I promptly put in an order, and the books arrived yesterday.

I've not found the time to flip through the books yet, but Noey quickly got his grubby fingers on the books and has been thumbing through the pages, even though he can't read yet. I know the stories are a little long for reading to an impatient toddler, but I'm looking forward to the day when we can share the stories with him.

Incidentally, does anyone know why Enid Blyton's books can no longer be found in bookstores? The only ones I've come across are the crappy collections of short stories, which are nowhere as good as the long stories they used to have on the Faraway Tree, or Mr Galliano's Circus, to name a few, or Noddy for that matter. I grew up with those books and enjoyed them. It's a pity they can now longer be found. I know they have been criticised for being formulaic, and being somewhat racist (with the references to Golliwogs) and sexist, but is that why they are no longer published?

Now I wish I had stopped my Mum from throwing away so many of my old books! Now I'll have to hunt the books down. Those stories are something I think would still be meaningful to share with Noey -- a little piece of my childhood to include in his.

By the way, the Book Depository sale has been extended till Sunday. 10% off and free shipping worldwide! Just enter the code May11 at checkout.

On Being a Mother, Chinese or Not

So much has been said and discussed about Amy Chua's article on her "Chinese" way of parenting since it has been published. I've had friends vehemently opposed to what was written, and those who have voiced support for such an approach. I personally think that what was written has probably been sensationalised to publicize her upcoming book so I took it with a pinch of salt.

I had many thoughts when I first read the article and it has led me to reflect deeply on how I was brought up, the value my parents put on academics and the methods they used. If the article described Chinese parenting, then you can say that my parents were clearly of the Chinese parenting school of thought, though they were never that extreme. I had written a long post looking back on how I was brought up on these because writing always helps me clarify my thoughts. In the end however, I have decided not to publish it. Yes, my parents were strict, they were sometimes harsh, and there were times when they were (I felt) overbearing and over-controlling. But I know they meant well and out of respect for them, I spare you, and them, the details.

The challenge DD and I have ahead of us is the question of how we want to parent Noey and our Mei-mei to come. I want them to live a rich, fulfilling and meaningful life, putting to good use all the talents that God has blessed them with, in service of God, wherever they might find themselves. I don't want them to be happy. Happiness is, indeed fleeting, and may in many instances be self-serving. What I want for them is to be content and holy, which to me includes being good stewards of what God gives them -- their time, their abilities, their relationships.

To me, this is where academics come in. Because they would be spending a lot of time just being students, being a good steward to me would mean them taking ownership of their studies and performing to the best of their abilities. The question which I need to answer is how I can instill a sense of responsibility and encourage them to be self-motivated in this regard.

Not everyone is naturally self-motivated. I myself fall woefully short. Despite showing plenty of early promise, I remained an underachiever in the academic field for all of my school-going years. I just never found the motivation to study and could always be found panicking and cramming at the last minute. As a result, I have always had disappointing results during major examinations. My grades were decent, but I know I have never lived up to my potential.

It is by God's grace that my working life has been smooth and I have thus far managed to find favour with my bosses, who value me and appreciate my work. I believe however that this is also because my parents managed to instill in me quite an unshakable belief in my abilities. (Hah!) I like to be good at my job; I don't like to be mediocre. Funny how I could never apply that to my studies huh!

I haven't decided yet what approach I would take with Noey when he starts formal schooling, of course. But while trawling the Kiasu Parents Forum for pre-school information, I came across this very interesting and insightful post by a Mum. The discussion had spun off the Amy Cheng article and this Mum was sharing what she did with her kids and well, I was very impressed. When asked by another forumer, she later said she has a Ph.D in Human Motivation so that's probably how she knew what to do what she did. I have reproduced her whole post below but you can also find the link to the original post here.

********

By Chenonceau:

I am not weighing in on the debate Pro-Drilling or Against-Drilling. Because, I do both depending on the situation. I rather suspect that most Mommies here do too. We all do a bit of both I think. I am also not telling other mommies/daddies what best they should do because I am not in their situation.

I went and dug out The Daughter's report book. Here is my story.

The Daughter scored 79 for English, 88 for Math in P1. She placed in the bottom 25% of her YEAR. However, in P1 she scored 99% for Chinese because Grandma plied her with assessment books. Little Boy's grades followed the same pattern.

English, Math and Science were my subjects to coach. Chinese was Grandma's. We took very different approaches. I looked past the grades in P1 & P2 for both my kids. In P1 & P2 my objectives were (1) they get used to school, (2) they adapt well socially, (3) they learn basic self-management skills, (4) the kinda keep up, (5) they like learning (6) they understand the value of diligence and discipline, and (7) they take full ownership of their studies.

These were all specific qualitative aims I had in mind. Not quantifiable but I wanted to focus on laying this foundation so that I would have a strong foundation of work ethic and self-management skills to build on in Upper Primary.

P1 & P2: Foundational Study Skills
I expected my kids to pack their bags, take notes, keep track of homework etc... That's tough you know for the little ones. So many times, they forgot their books. My son lost his exam schedule and I didn't help him get another. For 3 weeks, he went to school with his transparent exam pencil box because we didn't know when exactly his exams where and which day was what exam.

How to get good grades like that?

Nonetheless, whilst they were thus struggling, I was always warm and supportive ... and I gave a lot of loving advice. Next time, you need to remember this and that and the other. I had high expectations (about specific behaviors, not grades) but I tried not to help. I didn't gloat or say "Hah! You deserved it!" That's very mean and discouraging. Every boo boo was an opportunity to talk about how my child could manage himself better.

I gave very little drills at this stage. If they remembered to do their homework, I was happy. My kids "failed" at this stage but neither really failed as in score below 50. I did not allow that to happen. Their lowest grades were still 70+. I reckoned that that was what I could live with... believing that catch up was imminently possible from a 70s range.

P3 & P4: Transiting From Skills Focus to Grades Focus
By P3, they pretty much got the hang of the skills required to keep one's head afloat in school. They took notes, their bags were neat and they owned their study process completely because whilst I was encouraging and free with my advice, I tried not to help too much. So, about P3, I began to set grade goals (90+ for every subject).

At first, neither kid believed they were capable (since neither had ever scored in that range before except for Chinese), but I told them that I knew they could do it.

I began to PROPOSE drills, and because both are close to me, they do bend to my wishes even when gently proposed. Mostly I gave them past year exams from other schools. I planned the schedule and checked in every weekend to see if everything was done, and done well. At this stage, I was still refining study skills. I wanted to see careful work, good handwriting... I was less fussy about grades than I was about general work quality. I threw absolute hissy fits when work was shoddy and careless, but looked past genuine errors and absolute scores.

By end-P4, they were hitting the 90s in English, Math and Science. Strangely though, their Chinese grades dropped to the 80s. I kept telling Grandma that the way she taught the children Chinese made them feel like they didn't own the process. When they did well in Chinese, Grandma felt proud that she was a good teacher and hardworking too and conscientious. But my kids felt dispossessed of their glory. Their Chinese marks belonged to Grandma. Also, as you move into P4, the syllabus changes. Whether Chinese, English, Science or Math, the kids nowadays are no longer tested what is in the textbook.

By P3 & P4, kids are tested OUTSIDE of what is stated in the textbook. Grandma was still drilling textbook material. To score in the 90s for Science, Little Boy had to do independent internet Science research! We constructed Powerpoint slides, put him in a Professor's geeky glasses and made him present his findings. To score in the 90s for English, we were reading tons of storybooks and practising how to create metaphors, analogies and alliterative effects (e.g., Pretty Puddle of Pungent Poo). We read poetry. Basically, there was no way to drill our way to success because there was no way to predict what would be tested. Anything could be tested, and so I took a blunderbuss approach - LEARN EVERYTHING INTERESTING and HAVE FUN. Look at what teacher taught, ask questions of yourself and look for the answers on your own. Never mind if not in syllabus. You learn more and you won't die, and you'll have fun.

"The grades will come" I promised them. Back then, it was me putting on a brave front and being a brave mother so that my children would have the strength to carry on and keep trying. I couldn't tell them I didn't believe in them. In this way, I concur with Amy Chua... the best thing you can do for your child is to believe in him.

Meanwhile, Grandma went on drilling from the textbook. And whatever I said to her, she wouldn't budge from her time-tested method. She had been a Chinese Teacher in the past and had tutored even Mrs Carmee Lim's daughters (ex-Principal of RGS). She thought she knew best but her methods were outdated and designed for a syllabus and an approach that was past.

P5 & P6: ABSOLUTE Grade Focus
In P5 and P6, I became Tiger Mother. The Daughter came home one day in P6 and waved a Science paper scored 98% in my face. I said "It was an easy exam. The PSLE won't be this easy." The Daughter has never forgotten that scathing comment.

I reckoned that by P5 & P6, my kids had amassed enough resilience and process skills to take some knocks and I did knock them about, though never as hard as what Amy Chua seems to have done.

Starting P5, there was a consistent practice schedule which intensified as we moved into the 2nd quarter of P6. I devised the schedule collaboratively with my kids and I was sensitive to their mental and physical states. I had no qualms about deleting work if I thought it was too much. I wanted to manage my kids energy levels. Must always have time to recharge even if grades suffered meantime. The rule in the house is to NEVER TOUCH BOOKS 3 days before and exam paper. And I made sure I allocated whole days or whole weeks of NO BOOKS so that they could play to their hearts' content.

There was a constant process of watching and adjusting. There was a lot of trust and dialogue. I worked them hard but I made sure that I was there to encourage and listen to their problems. But they still owned their study process. I proposed a work schedule and they decided if they could manage. More often than not, they would ADD in stuff and tell me "Mommy, I can try." They knew that the PSLE was an important exam.

I also built in a natural reward into the work schedule. If they somehow did their work fast and well, they had that extra time to play. I never gave more work when they finished theirs earlier than I had expected. And whenever I could, and they had finished earlier than expected, I would take time off work to play with them. Go somewhere they wanna go... do something they like... together.

Results
The Daughter placed consistently in the top 3 places from P5 to Sec 2. In Sec 3, she was handpicked for an accelerated program where the others were smarter and just as driven as she. To keep up, she really pushed herself. End Sec 3, she was in hospital with pneumonia, a result of 2 months of flu and insufficient rest. She was so motivated that it had become a problem. I went to school and got an exemption for one month of homework... plus I locked up her laptop. She vegetated at home that month.

Little Boy is now in P5. He looks at the work schedule that we worked out and if I decide to delete an item, he will say "Leave it in Mom. I will try."

Unfortunately, The Daughter's Chinese marks at 'O' levels went down to the 50s. She hated Chinese and rebelled completely against Grandma's micro-managing ways. Little Boy's Chinese dropped to 79 for the first time in end-P4. So, I've taken over Chinese from Grandma too... and I'm doing it my way now. Read a lot, have a lotta fun, and to hell with textbook. I will be introducing exam practices later in the year however. Learn and have fun first. Drill later.

Both drill and no-drill are important to me.

My Objective
I don't need my kids to be the best in class... but I want them to be the best they can be. If what they can be is 80+, then fine... and seriously, The Daughter's class now is full of people who are so smart she and I feel stupid. That's fine. We're not as smart. And we don't need to be.

She got where she was not because she was smart, but because she was motivated. Motivation can get a child farther than a parent's best wishes and most beautiful dreams. The Daughter is no longer at the top of her class anymore, but that is fine because I know she has reached her potential and maybe even a little beyond. The same with Little Boy. I know he can manage 90+ in every subject if he wants to. Even Chinese.

The trick is to make them want to. And the first step is to turn the ownership of the study process over to them... and make them own it. This should be done early enough (I think). I have just sacked Grandma and turned the ownership of Chinese over to Little Boy. He used to roll his eyes when Grandma complained he was slow. Today, in the car, he said "Mom, I have a problem. I am slow in my compo. Others have done 1.5 pages, I've only done 1."

He now owns his problem and I play the familar supportive role "Oh never mind... you keep on reading those books and one day, the grades will come. I promise" and I look at him with a confident smile. This way, he will keep on trying... and he will end up where he ends up in Chinese. And I will still be happy even if it isn't 90+.

Not the Only Approach
I consciously took an approach where I focused first on Foundational Study Skills to the detriment of grades. It worked for me. I am sure there are other parents who focused on both at the same time quite successfully. I am sharing my story because it isn't a usual approach, but it worked for me.

Tell me what you think!

Urban Warfare

Reading the article in the Sunday Times yesterday about Street Wars, a water gun assassin game that will be hitting Singapore in May totally made me smile. With nostalgia.

Would you believe that DD and I did something similar, years ago?

The game was Weng's brainchild. Its name was Urban Warfare and the venue? Suntec City on a Saturday afternoon. Each of us carried a water gun of our choosing, filled with coloured water. Our task was simple -- to kill as many of the other players as possible. The one with the most kills won. Everytime you got shot you had to wait out 30 seconds before you could move again, to prevent you from shooting your assassin right back. And to make sure that no one just hid in one spot for the entire game, we were given tasks to complete at different locations. All that also led to a big shootout in the end!

I was dubbed the babyfaced killer because harmless looking ol' me was really not bad at the game. I was pretty good at sneaking up on people and shooting them "dead", with a smile of course. Helped that I was light on my feet and fast, back then! I never got into any trouble though I did receive plenty of disapproving looks. Some others were not so lucky. I think one of our friends Joe managed to hit a passerby and had to buy him a new T-shirt.

It was crazy fun. While I am happy where I am these days, this is one of those times when I miss the carefree days of youth.

But no, I'm not going to be pay $50 to join this new game! It's just fun to reminicse.

The Child's Story Bible

I recently purchased a story book bible for Noey after reading about it somewhere, where exactly I embarassingly can't remember. It received rave reviews on Amazon and I love adding to Noey's collection of Bible stories, so I decided to get it.

The Children's Story Bible arrived a couple of weeks ago and goodness, I've been the one glued to this book ever since.

Told in a simple, gentle fashion, the book reads like a grandmother telling bible stories to her grandchildren, which incidentally was pretty much how it came to be written. As the preface of this revised edition, written by the original author's daughter records, her mother had penned this book after failing to find a bible storybook for them to read that was "both faithful to the inspired Word of God and successful in conveying the dramatic excitement and human warmth of these most wonderful of all stories". This book I feel, based on my reading of it so far, achieves this aim.

There are many things I love about this book. I love how the writer has worked in little explanations of things that had confused me when I was a child, reading the bible on my own. Why God rejected Cain's offering and accepted Abel's, for example. I also love the way she has picked out little facts that would have escaped the casual reader, like the fact that Cain's descendants included Jabal, who was the first man own cattle, Jubal, the first man to create musical instruments, and Tubal-cain, who created implements of brass and iron. She also works in inferences explaining how the characters must have felt at different points of the stories -- how sad Adam & Eve must have been to have been driven from the garden, or how amazing it must have been to see the animals flying two by two into the ark. Points that really highlight the drama of the event to the young undiscerning reader.

Best of all, I love that she highlights how Jesus is the focus of the Bible, and that Man's redemption and salvation was pronounced by God right at the beginning, from the moment he declared enmity between the seed of the woman and the seed of the serpent, and foretold that the seed of the woman would bruise the head of the serpent, highlighting Jesus' ultimate victory over sin and death.

All these should be obvious to the mature Christian and I came to learn and understand these as I grew older, but when I was a child, I didn't.

I should add that I've thoroughly enjoyed reading Genesis afresh in this book because as a child, Genesis was my favourite book in the Bible. My parents had often left me in the care of my grandmother and in her home, there were few toys and no books, except a copy of the Good New Bible. I wasn't much interested in television so when I wasn't playing in the backyard, I had spent a lot of time reading the Bible. Back then, I read Genesis a lot. Mostly because I would lose interest midway through Exodus when God started instructing Moses in the details of the Tabernacle and the Ark of the Covenant! I would then either go back to Genesis again, or skip to sections in the New Testament and elsewhere in between. I was very familiar with the contents of Genesis therefore, but I didn't realise their significance. There were also many things that puzzled me. On hindsight I guess I should have asked my parents about those things. I'm not sure why I didn't! But if I had things as gently explained to me as they are in this book, I think I would have had less questions. And if I had known the significance of all the details and the rituals in Exodus, I believe I would have been less bored!

I'm only just past Exodus so I've still got some way to go to the end of the book, but it looks promising and I'm eager to continue. And when Noey is better able to listen and understand in future, this is the book I will turn to as an introduction to the bible. He's not ready for it yet -- to understand and be interested in this book, you have to be able to follow the story, so it's probably more suitable for kindergarten age kids and above. There are also no pictures for the child to follow in this book, though there are several illustrations included in between.

This is not the Bible of course -- only the narative historical sections are covered, in both the old and new testament -- and is not a substitute for it. But for a child or new believer, it's a good introduction.

I got my copy off Amazon, but I've since realised that the local home-bookshop Life Between the Covers carries the title.

Mummy's Boy

Save for a few notable exceptions, everyone says that Noey looks just like me. My Aunt -- the same one who came by with some old baby photos last year -- recently gave me the remainder of my old photos which she had in her possession. I've seen many of these photos before, but now looking at the same photos with my son in front of me at the same age, even I am taken aback by the resemblance.

Polariod shots taken around my first birthday, as evidenced by the cake in a couple of these shots.

With my parents, Grandma, cousin, and yet another cake


More first birthday celebrations, except that my parents obviously cut my hair in between, leaving me with this hideously short fringe.


Noey, in a dress (and with a bad haircut).

One year on, I think Noey is still Mummy's boy through and through.

Replica

My Aunt dropped by to visit and brought some old photos with her. She'd been cleaning out my Grandmother's old house and came across many albums of me and my cousin (who's just 1 month younger than me) as babies. There was one photograph of me and my Mum that she particularly wanted to show me cos she thought I looked exactly like Little Noah -- or rather, that he looks just like me:

Me and my Mum shortly after I was born -- apparently this was taken while we were still in the hospital.

Well, I guess we now know who he got that shocked expression of his from! And he's got my eyes, nose, cheeks and chin. Fancy that. Thank goodness he got his Daddy's long legs!

Goodbye to the Old Dame

They brought down the curtains on the National Stadium on Saturday.

And like the many folks whose stories have been run in the press, I too have my own attachment to the place. There were the NDPs attended, the many Malaysia Cup matches watched and witnessed. But most of all, it is to the track that my memories are tied.

Back when it took more than a dash across the road to make me start to huff and puff, the Track & Field Nationals held at the National Stadium was the highlight of our calendar. Those 3 weeks tearing up the track. It was what we trained for the year round.

Too many memories have been locked up in that place: The early treks up to the stands in the crisp morning air as we prepared for the heats. The many bananas we consumed. The cold walk past the air conditioned offices at the ground level as we walked to the starting line. The familiar crunch of spikes on the stone-washed floor as we hobbled around on our heels keeping warm, stretching. The gunshot, the jostling, the pounding of feet. The blessed clang of the bell which signalled the last lap. The sweet relief of crossing the line.

And more than these, the moments spent with friends: Clattering down the wooden benches to the railing to yell ourselves hoarse, urging, willing one another to go faster, further, higher. Running around the bleaches to the different sections so that we would be heard. Warming up just inside the entrance gates, near the stairs, outside the toilets. Hanging around to provide support as we stretched and silently got ready, and lent a helping hand with the stretching when needed. Scrutinising the scoreboards in twos and threes each day, trying to work out how many points stood between us and the championship. And also, crossing the road for a hearty meal followed by Daytona at the arcade.

So many memories. Like how a group of my mates created a different chant/cheer each time I came round on the tedious 7.5 round run (I was running 3,000m), and how that lifted my spirits. And the time when a girl behind me tripped, and even though I don't remember having tripped her, I turned around, in the middle of the race, to call out an apologetic "sorry" before continuing. The moment on the podium -- how sweet that felt. And how on the last day of the championships, with most of the school body in attendance, I got on a friend's back and she piggy-backed me on the stadium field as I reached to wave our flag higher than the rest.

That place, where it all happened, will be gone soon, wiped away. Yet another one of the spots of my youth, where I would have liked to have brought our kids (when we eventually have any) to tell them about how Mummy was fit once, point out the spots where we used to sit, run and play, to show them how much had changed and also stayed the same, gone.

I'm too sentimental for my own good, and for this land. There's just no space or time for nostalgia in this place. Nope. We march in this land only to the beat of progress.