Letter to my son: You’ll find your place in life

Dear son,

You’ve graduated from kindergarten! As you danced on stage with your classmates at your graduation concert, I couldn’t help but swell with pride and delight.

You’ve only been in this kindy for a year…Transitions aren’t your forte and sometimes you have reactions that nobody can fathom, not even your dad and I, but we saw that what you needed was time — time to settle in and get used to the new kindy environment, friends and flow. Eventually, you did and you said you enjoyed your new school, particularly the computer “lessons” that you have every Tuesday.

The same way you found your place in this new school, may you also find your place in life.

finding your place in life

Parenting is tough to do. Parenting you has also been quite an intense experience.

Many a time I have faltered, many a time I failed to show you the gracious and loving face of our God, and for those, I can only repent and say I’m sorry.

Sorry for being harsh when I could have been understanding.

Sorry for being impatient when all you needed was time.

Sorry for being only half-present and preoccupied with my work and worries when all you wanted to do was to share about your day.

(I’ll try my best to do better; because of you and your siblings, I’m also growing every day, to be a better mum, and to parent from a place of enough.)

Yet you stick close to me. You’re the one who calls me when I’m out running errands or doing stuff for work. You’re the one asking when I will be home.

Soon you will move on to primary school, then secondary, then college and university. Soon you will be a teenager – will you still want to share with me excitedly about your day? Will our relationship be strong and open enough for you to deposit your thoughts into my mind?

I can only hope and wait for you, my son. Wait for you to strengthen your wings and heart and mind. Wait for you to ready yourself for flight. Wait for you to fly.

Whichever route you choose to take, however long it needs for you to get where you want to go, know that you can take your time. Go at your own pace, learn to love at your own time.

The speed at which you grow does not define you. Nor do the achievement and results that you attain. At the end of the day, God looks at your heart, and who you are. I pray that you will bear fruit for His glory.

Your mother too has taken quite a few roundabout routes in life, and through them learnt many things. Maybe it was only through those meandering journeys that she grew to be who she is now. (Only God knows.)

So, take your time, my darling. I will do my best not to worry and hurry you, and instead trust that you will find your sweet spot, that special place in life that God intended for you.

Love,

Mummy

happy boy and mom

The terrible twos

Dear JJ,

You just turned two. You’re also in the thick of…

The Terrible Twos.

If you don’t know what that is, it’s a phrase (and a phase) that strikes fear even in the most courageous of parents.

We have stopped asking you anything, because to you right now, everything is a “NO” or “DO-WANT.”

Even if you really mean yes.

You’re like a walking time-bomb. One moment, you can be happily prancing around, the next, tear-and-scream-fest.

Everything can be disagreeable to you, even the way we pack your toys, place your towel on the bathroom rack, down to who’s able to wear your shoes or read you a bedtime story.

What makes it slightly more challenging is that you love to pick a fight and ruffle your sister’s feathers.

AND we’ve also discovered that your tantrums can get quite physical (though thankfully most of your punches and kicks land in mid-air and not on my face).

Sigh, you’re all but wearing mummy and daddy out.

But there is a silver lining…This IS just another phase. And as with all phases, this too shall pass. (Or so we console ourselves.) If you’re anything like your sis, we think we should see the light by the end of the year.

I know there is a reason behind all this. That you are breaking away from us, learning independence, and forging your own identity as a unique little person through this process.

You’ve now discovered the beauty of your own mind. Your own will. Your own voice.

I know we need to support you in this, that we need to be patient, keep our cool, negotiate with you so you attain a measured level of decision-making, compromise, etc etc. But you need to realise that sometimes your desires are downright silly. (Such as wanting to run down a slope that leads to a road full of cars zooming by. Or wanting to swallow playdoh.)

While shaping your identity is important, protecting your life is more so. And that’s what we will do, even if it results in a meltdown.

All these said and done, you’re still our cheeky, adorable little boy. And when you’re happy, you shine like the stars in our universe.

We are counting the days till you turn three.

Till then, we just have to hang onto our seats, and do deep breathing exercises.

Love, mummee

Dear son, you’re one

For JJ’s first birthday, I wrote him a letter.

No, not this blog post, I mean a physical letter. You know, the kind with paper and pen?

Ok…You need a picture to remind you of what that’s like? Here you go…

letter to my baby And I sent it back to ourselves through the mail. (I know it’s a bit silly, and I’m wasting stamps, but heck it’s once a year for my child.)

Here’s a snippet of what I wrote:

“You are such a precious, joyful, funny little man,

just like daddy except for the ‘little’ part.

My prayer for you as you turn one,

is that you will continue to be blessed and protected by our God,

that you’ll grow to be a loving, kind, patient toddler

(if there’s ever such a thing)

I love you, my baby.

Don’t grow up so quickly ok?”

Now…I just need an empty box to store this letter, and future ones, properly, so that when the kids are grown up, we’ll all know where to find them. Won’t it be such fun to discover these sweet moments of their childhood when they’re older?

Do you write letters to your kids too? Let me know if you intend to embark on this project too!

A letter to myself about joining the Singapore Blog Awards

Congrats June, you took the leap of faith by joining the Singapore Blog Awards.

You overcame your fears, doubting thoughts, and pursued what you believed was worth dreaming for.

Not the award in itself, certainly not fame, but something more.

Yes, when you were checking the results, you couldn’t believe it. You thought it might have been a mistake. You thought you better take a photo of your blog’s name on the top 10 list, in case it should disappear in the next minute, and you did.

Then you reloaded the page just to see if you were still there. And you were.

It was you. It was true.

And the first thing you did was to tell the hubby. You whatsapped him the photo you took of your blog on that page, and you went “OMGGG”

And your hubby was totally cool. He said “So expected. Ok, let’s start executing your voting campaign.” Which made you LOL and nearly fall off your chair in the office. (He has a knack for making you laugh that way.)

For the next 20 minutes of so, you were smiling at your computer screen, while hoping that no one in the office would notice. You weren’t ready to break the news at that point. Eventually you did, but not at that moment. You just wanted to relish it for a little while.

Then you shared the same photo with your usual bunch of girlfriends who are always on standby on whatsapp, and they jumped for joy along with you.

In spite of your silly antics, I’m really glad you took this leap. You chose to step out of your own shell, brave the outside world a little.

You chose to believe what the hubby said, about how you should join this Awards, and how you should set your own goals.

I know you’re still on cloud nine, but here are some gentle reminders for you.

It’s not about winning or losing.

It’s not about fame.

It’s about who you are at this moment. It’s about trying your best, and overcoming your fears.

And it’s about the people whom you know will support you all the way.

And about the God who has granted you favour.

And because of all these, the outcome of the Awards really doesn’t matter all that much.

So, keep your feet on the ground.

Keep writing from your heart.

Keep enjoying what you do here.

You’re a mummy blogger. A writer in the making. And you should be proud. (But not too proud.)

Be totally thankful.

Keep trusting in the One who made you, and you’ll be okay.