Dear Rockstar, A First Letter From a Future Mum-in-law

Dear Rockstar,

Couple months back, someone asked Mum what kind of mother-in-law she would be. Mum is still predominantly daughter-in-law, and the concept of being someday also mother-in-law is still very foreign to her, what with you still just 3.5-and-a-bit. However then Mum wanted to attempt this (possibly first of more to come as you grow and make more friends), if only for us to refer to decades later.

Time Machine or Washing Machine?

Truth be told, when she was first asked, your mother could think of just one thing she really cared about in Daughter-in-law – whether or not she was spoilt. “Spoilt” to Mum does not mean privileged. Mum knows many great people from wealthy families who have carried their own weight in spite of, rather than because of, family connections. Just as she knows of spoilt kids in poor families, growing up with a sense of entitlement, that life owes them (which sadly could keep them in an unproductive rut)… Nor is it constrained to only children or those of any particular race/ nationality.

(Mum believes any culture you decide to join your own life with and raise your own children in, will be a “package” of goods and bads. She hopes you will end up with a nice Christian girl, but also accepts that we can serve the Lord in any capacity if that is what He chooses for us – your father was not a Christian when Mum married him, and wasn’t for some years after. The journey we have been on together has not always been smooth sailing, no journey ever is or we would totally take it for granted because that’s what human nature is like, but we have learned so much from this path. And Mum has come to the conclusion that “differences” are less of a thing than “attitudes” are.)

Not to mention Mum thinks “unspoilt” implies also an open-ness to cultural differences, a tolerance for others. Why is that important? Because “open-ness” allows one to assimilate the best wisdoms of every culture you will meet, while also chucking out the bits that hinder progress. By that unwritten rule that we strive to give our children better than we ourselves received, we are to learn from new developments and past mistakes.

The reason Mum will advise you to avoid marrying someone who has been spoilt in their raising is because “Forever and ever til death do you part” is a tall order by any standard. It is a promise to the Lord that is not taken lightly – Lord knows it’s not easy – but do you and your future spouse really?

Someone who was raised spoilt will have formed less realistic expectations of what life – and married life, at that – will bring. And may be less likely to stick it out with you when the going gets tough.

Through sickness and health, gain and loss of wealth, children or lack thereof, you are asking another person to share what life brings both of you. You will not be perfect, and neither will they. Mum hopes to raise you to remember and accept who your future wife is. Everything’s a package and when you choose her, you are choosing the entire package. Mum then expects also that your future wife’s parents will have raised her to do the same with you. It is an acknowledgement that you are Mum’s precious child, just as your future wife is someone else’s precious child.

And, if you hadn’t already guessed, it is a caution against spoiling your own future children.

Washing Machine... (This is from a pop art exhibition)

If she loves you, Mum has got to try and keep from becoming mother-in-law-from-hell-whose-son-has-been-“stolen”.  Because she hurts your chances of finding a girl who has a good head on her shoulders. You see Rockstar, Mum believes that when it’s time for you to find someone to spend the rest of your life with and have your babies, the intelligent, pretty and nice girls will be the most in demand. (Btw never go for a girl simply because she is pretty, because looks fade with time, and then you’ll be stuck with someone used to being treated like she is pretty – and she won’t even have “pretty” going for her anymore.)

Sure there is that cliche about how we don’t marry our spouses for their families, but if that were all the way true then we wouldn’t hear on local radio every now and again about divorces because of the inlaws. Your ability to manage your mother to get along with your wife-to-be will be part of what you have to offer, so this is your mother saying she will be trying her best to be umm, “manageable.”

There is another incentive to not scaring off The Right One For My Precious Son. It’s called Grandchildren. Because smarts, looks and personality are at least partly hereditary. If you don’t get a great girl, your mother might not get great grandchildren. And then if she doesn’t keep it real, she might never get to see her grandchildren, great or otherwise. (You won’t believe some of the creative “reasons” some of her friends come up with to avoid overbearing old folks. Observing that today, Mum hopes, will keep her from becoming one of those people in her old age that needs  to be lied to, in future.)

Sigh. But hopefully not in another 20 years.

So letting go be part of the job description, when the time comes. (Mum had better have some other activities lined up, like Border Collie Training or Rescue Mutt Adoption. Just like Grandmum. (Though Mum maintains Grandmum flunked Border Collie Training. Muppy (short for Mutt Puppy – private joke between her and Grandpop because Muppy is the only dog they’ve ever had who is not a mutt) is a grossly overweight monster with a deafening imperious yap. Well at least The Mup fetches your grandparents’ papers in the morning.)

When it comes time to let go, hopefully Mum will remember what a ball she has had raising you. Parents were meant to raise their children for maybe a couple decades, if they are blessed – but they were not meant to raise them for the rest of their lives. We are stewards of our blessings and responsibilities the Lord entrusts us with. This serves as a reminder to your mother, helping her not get too nuts about your raising, especially as you get older (as is, you are already a lot more independent at this age than she expected) – and it can only be good for her decision-making process when parenting today can get seriously nutty.

The time Mum has to decide what you eat and wear and get to do for kicks is right now, not for the rest of your life. But she aims to affect your choices tomorrow in the values she instills in your raising today.

Hey. Doesn’t that count for a lot?

Love,

Mum

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Rockstarisms #140, #141 & #142

#140

Me to my mum: I’m going to sit with my laptop… Unless you need help with Rockstar?

Rockstar: I need help with Grandmum.

Me: Uh, why do you need help?

Rockstar: I need help to tell Grandmum to stop saying “What?” all the time (Because my mum can’t understand him sometimes and it irritates him.)

#141

Me (to a shorts-clad Rockstar): Put on your warm pants please.

So Rockstar put on his warm pants. (The face was extra.)

#142

(Because of all the previous smartass, the grandparents pretend disapproval..)

Rockstar: Mum. Grandmum was sulking for a long time.

Me: How long?

Rockstar: It was 20 minutes.

Me: That’s not –

Rockstar: And hundreds of years!!

 


 

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The Story of Ferdinand (and other things)

I love old books. And not-so-old books. I think you can have a few nice ones as part of the furniture (instead of coffee table books, books as coffee table). Maybe even a whole bookshelf as erm, a  bookshelf (but a better-looking one). Like when I wrapped a big bunch of pre-Kindle-era impulse purchases in white, black or duck-egg blue paper and marker-ed the titles down the spines just so I would have a book case of matching books <blissful sigh at memory of wrapping books on floor next to dog> Cue  pretentious violin music playing.

New edition on left, my childhood copy on right. I’ve had it since I was a little girl so it’s about 30 years old and has a special place on my bookshelf; the one on the left looks exactly like it, I saw it on the forms for ordering books via Rockstar’s school and jumped to get him a copy

And then the Hot Husband has to go buy wayyy more books with seriously ugly covers about the internet and China and startups bla de bla and completely overwhelm my book case and book-wrapping powers. Cue jarring halt to said pretentious violin music-playing. Fortunately for him he is Hot Husband. (In the geeky derivatives-savvy way I define hot that no one else can understand. Oh, my mother has wondered at my taste from Wayy Back When, but this is her own fault for sending me down the path to a career in Finance.)

Anyway. The Story Of Ferdinand is one I loved as a child, but would you believe, it was a story I went back to in adulthood when I worked in banking. One of the things that inspired me at work <sheepish – whatever works right?> Last time I remember telling the story was to my immediate team head in my last position. (If you want to know the story, here‘s one I found online.)

Why?

1) Ferdinand was born a bull, in a meadow where all the other little boy bulls dreamed of growing into fierce bull-fighting bulls. Bearing in mind neither being a bull-fighting bull nor a flower-smelling bull as a career is differentiated by the size of their paychecks, Ferdinand liked to smell flowers, so he smelled flowers, regardless of the fact everyone else he was growing up with liked banging their heads together. It did not stop Ferdinand from being true to himself.

2) His mother might have been a cow, but … She let him be flowers-smelling bull instead of bull-fighting bull. You can be the best mother even if you were born a cow. Even when people expect you to be a cow. People can still respect cows.

3) The Banderilleros and Picadores and Matador went about being idiots with capes when they were actually freaking scared of Ferdinand… The least substantial cowardly idiots are going to be the ones waving capes about and making a lotta noise. A thing about empty vessels comes to mind.

4) Nothing the idiots with the capes did could make Ferdinand mad – and that drove them more nuts than anything. Not to mention he then gave them no reason to kill him (in this story la). Pride, ego, inability to control emotion, particularly anger, will set you up for humiliation or get you killed and sold in the butchers’.

New Rockstar on the left, old rockstar on the right (that's me btw, when I was about his age now - but super tanned, I was a waterbaby and swam a lot under the sun)

5) So anyway Ferdinand was carted off back to his home and flower-smelling ways. Who cares about the people who don’t like flower-smelling bulls. The most pissy people about this were the ones whose opinions shouldn’t matter anyway since they were trying to turn him into hamburger.

“He is very happy.” – The story of Ferdinand, by Munro Leaf.

Turns out Ferdinand was quite an achiever after all. There are people out there with serious careers and stuff who still haven’t figured how to be happy.

TGIF, dears.

ps: I’m aware this is fictitious because of the gruesome-ness of real-life bullfighting (and the fact said gruesome act is done before an audience for entertainment), but I love the book still…

And … back to my earlier rant about ugly book covers. I cannot understand how there isn’t already a campaign to limit the number of fugly books husbands are allowed to bring home in giant shoppers. It’s like, seriously important so families stay together. Don’t you just hate the people who don’t give two hoots about the attractiveness of their book covers when they publish?

This is what is wrong with the world today.

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Rockstarism #139 (Funny Faces And Fake Smiles)

#139

Me: Do you want cornflakes?

Rockstar: If I wanted cornflakes I would do this <makes funny face>

Me: So do you want cornflakes?

Rockstar: <makes funny face>

Yup, he's a funny little man...

Rockstar came home from the ESF summer camp proudly brandishing the above today… I love it because that’s his “Stephen Chow Sing-Chi fake smile.”

Separated at birth and 45 years?

Fake Smile is when he actually tries to cooperate for the photo, even when he doesn’t particularly feel like smiling. Completely different look than when we whip out the iPhone to quickly catch spontaneous smiles before he remembers to ruin it.

Needless to say, he doesn’t “cooperate” for photos that often…

The school must’ve sized each child’s class portrait to the frame and printed it out for this project… Loves!

Posted in Rockstar Shots, Rockstarisms, School For Rockstar | 3 Comments

Lang Mo Book Comes Home

Lang Mo Stall… “Mook” btw, refers to one of the magazines…

Btw I don’t think it shows up in the pic, but the header on the book I bought was titled “The Cexy Grandmaster.” Yes Cexy with a C. M-aybe it’s another witticism translated from Chinese that I didn’t g – Oh, why bother? By all means enjoy yourselves.

So Lang Mo Book comes home with me after the HK Book Fair (and btw friends then tell me Lang Mo presence used to be criticized heavily at the book fair), to the following responses:

From Rockstar: A disinterested “What’s that….. Oh! Bob the Builder! <goes off with his own books>”

From my 65 year old mum who flicks thru the whole thing: “There’s only one girl. Isn’t it boring?”

From Kings: A disinterested “What’s that….. ” (Sound familiar? :D)

The Hot Husband proceeds to listen dispassionately as I go on excitedly about Lang Mos giving out ices and culminate my mildly breathless narration with – Ta-daaa… Lang Mo poster! We can give this to one of his single friends! “Nah…..”

What? “None of our friends are kids anymore.”

Excuse me? “Who puts these things in their rooms nowadays…”

It doesn’t make a good gag gift? “No, not funny…” (Did the King pick that up from the Rockstar, or did Rockstar pick up ‘not funny’ from Kings?)

Humph. Well I’m gonna have a little fun with Lang Mo Book.

Is that a telephone pole?

ONE WHOLE PAGE for a telephone pole? It’s not like she climbs up to fix the line and provides instructions and… WHY is there a telephone pole??

Unsuspecting Lang Mo?

Did anyone tell this poor guy he is in a Lang Mo book? Is he a closet Lang Mo?

Is that an American flag? Is she American??

What is this, for my parents’ holiday home neighbors from the States to carry on about how President Obama isn’t “American enough” because he doesn’t do enough photo ops in front of the American flag? “You see you see even HK Lang Mo takes pictures with the flag…” (Why would I make that up… They probably just watch Fox… Fine, I made that last up…)

NO information on where to buy the outfit!! And who did her makeup?

Never even tell us where to buy the clothes. Her female audience has totally not been catered to. And then they wonder why women in particular don’t like it? I am a woman. I am very dissatisfied.

Verdict: HKD 148 for a Lang Mo book may not be a high price to pay for free speech….. But it may be a high price to pay for a Lang Mo book.

I can understand why Hong Kong people would get hot and bothered (sorry, this is an attempt at sarcasm please) over this, someone even told me in earlier years HK Book Fairs ended up being all about the Lang Mos. It can give quite a misleading impression of the city, because whereas political satire and witticisms and original thought lose something in Canto-English translation, Lang Mo Book is in a universal language. And not one that gets a lot of respect. (Not to be confused however with professions requiring some beauty (without the seediness) though.)

Kings is partly responsible for changing how I looked at professions that rely on beauty though. Technically it’s not the pretty model’s job to be a rocket scientist. Eye-ing a picture of a hunky male model once, he patted his pot belly and said “Well it’s his job to look like that. Too bad it’s not mine..” My husband is, I would say (especially because he never does), quite good at his job. But it is not modelling <cough>.

And it’s not like “bimbos” go around saying smart girls look like dogs, is it? Not… that I would know if they did, none of my girlfriends are dumbb. (Anyway if you thought “bimbo” was necessarily derogatory, check out Xiaxue’s reaction to the label – along the lines of I’m-100%-sure I’m-smart-but-I’m-not-100%-sure-I’m-attractive-so-thank-you <Respect>.)

Hang on. How come when observing a pretty girl “But she is not smart” seems to be a lot more common than “But she is not a nice person”?

Smart and pretty seem to be accolades that carry a lot more weight with society. Like a certain school I heard first-hand of, where the teaching assistants were apparently taking pictures on their cellphone with this one little girl in the school because she was just really, really pretty. I don’t know where the line is drawn exactly, we’ve been stopped by Caucasian tourists in HK before, asking if they can take a picture of Rockstar when he’s in a cute t-shirt. Once, to the backdrop of Lake Wanaka, someone asked for permission to film him as he stamped in the slushy, muddy puddles (What? He likes puddles, we were about to leave, he gets puddle fixes “at appropriate times” a.k.a. right before we go back and wash him.)

It’s not something I ever had to think much about because Rockstar goes out of his way to ruin pics and videos taken of him by strangers anyways (and quite a few taken by his parents.)

Besides, pretty girls, isn’t it quite the kick to be the best person you can be (“she’s really pretty”/ “she’s really smart”/ “wow she’s both”) and not give some people the satisfaction of adding “too bad she’s a bitch.” (Btw my default reaction to the worst pretty little bullies on the playground is “Doing that makes you not pretty.”)

So who cares if Lang Mos are smart or not. But I sure hope some of em are nice. Especially since there’s probably gonna be some little girls out there who wanna be like them.

How I see it is, you’ve been blessed, be it looks, smarts, personality… So you should be honoring Him who blessed you.

ps: OK truth time – I was being funny, but I gotta admit some of the Lang Mo pics in the book were quite seedy, though none were actually nude. I mean, honestly, if I had a daughter and she was 12 and wanted a boob job like this girl I would not allow it. (What, this girl is 12 right? Not 12 with boob job meh? Sorry my mistake :D)

So I disapprove. I am College First, Boob Job Later Parent <self-righteous sniff>. (What, what?? You gonna lock up your little girl when she’s 30 and wants a boob job? But you raised her not to feel like she needed one frivolously right?)


Posted in Rockstar Shopping, Rockstar Thoughts | 2 Comments

“Lang Mo” and “Children’s Paradise” at the Hong Kong Book Fair 2011

Hurried picture of the barricaded entrance to the HK Convention Center in Wan Chai – I later learn there were like, a thousand people queueing outside on the first day, hence the umpteen barricades and guards to sort out snaking queues and erm, queue disputes?

Shame on me, I needed serious encouragement to visit this thing… Figured I could just buy whatever I wanted online, because I really don’t like crowds.. But my friend really wanted to go so I was Oh well, maybe I’ll find something to display impressively on my book shelf. (As everyone knows, this is what books are for.)

Look at all the barricades… This could’ve been a rock concert…

I got a kick out of reading the tips before going down, especially the Special Passage To Children’s Paradise. (There’s a Special Passage? There’s a Children’s Paradise? HOW big is this thing??) The yearly HK Book Fair, I soon learn, is where many locals buy books in bulk on the cheap. Certainly when I balk at the aged cabbie’s, “HK Convention Center, old or new wing?” he volunteers “Book Fair, yes? Then I know where to drop you.”

This Is Not A Crowd (as in, I’m told it’s really, really not – apparently it was wayy more crowded on the first couple days… Which makes me happy I did not go on the first couple days – don’t suppose the English books are going to sell out nearly as quick as the Chinese ones anyways :P)

Inside, I hear of “Lang Mo” – Cantonese short form for “pretty” Models, for the first time. Apparently aspiring pretty faces will sell “books” and magazines of themselves at this fair, it’s one of the well-known attractions (ay listen up, our Malaysian guy friends who have been going Where Are All The Pretty HK Girls? Don’t Have, Don’t Have – you know who you are, and so do I – Kings ratted you out.)

On the first day Lang Mo were apparently wearing bikinis and handing out ice creams at their stalls (they so nices they melt ices, geddit?)…

Someone pointed out the light bulb in front of the boxers to me…

I get so excited I make my companions (who are here to check out the HK political satire and kiddie books) pretty much traipse around the whole massive exhibition looking for Lang Mo booths. I was hoping for a picture (though possibly I wouldn’t be able to fight thru the throng of adolescent and nerdy (I’m told) guys pressing forward for… an ice and an autograph? And anyway why would a Lang Mo want to pose with mummy blogger me for a pic?) Still, I want to experience Lang Mo!

More stalls inside (seriously, I don’t see a single obviously foreign person throughout my Lang Mo hunt)

After a bit we start asking the HKTDC attendants for directions – at “Where are the Lang Mo?” they break out in embarrassed grins at us girls. The lone (and local) guy with me and my mummy friend attempts valiantly to communicate via body language that the Lang Mo hunt is not for him, it’s for us girls (well ok, me).

Family Planning Booth – note the dolls!

We pass the family planning booth and my friend explains these are anatomically-correct “sex dolls”, for telling kids where people are not supposed to touch. Her colleague shows me a heavily bruised forearm and I learn it can be fairly common to take bloodtests before marriage/having children, to make sure both partners are healthy, or be aware of any other hereditary health problems before they start trying for a child… (I’m not aware of a single Malaysian/ Singaporean acquaintance who’s done this, though we did harvest cord blood, also much more common among our friends.)

Some of the local political satire – one is something about school girl chicks and the other is shark ginseng (obviously I totally didn’t get it, but after Mc Dull I have quite some respect for local witticisms – when I can understand them)
I LOVE THIS!! Apparently he’s really good at predicting exam questions!
The guy with the microphone at the Sub-Culture Ltd booth was selling a book about HK Triad phrases that are now commonly used in every day Cantonese (this of course has to be translated for me)

My friend picks up a chim Chinese-language book which I assume is something HK politics-related for HKD 29 – and later her colleague finds it in a box for HKD 10. (But honestly HKD 29 I thought was already a super price and it was in great condition)… Darn I should’ve got one too.. Who says books are just for reading?

Found It! Lang Mo!!

Then finally… Lang Mo booth!!! Success! They’re all pretty big (and wrapped in plastic) and I buy one. In the interest of research of course. (Ok la, I wanted a Look What I Found At HK Book Fair, Did You Know They Pose In Bikinis At “Boring” Old Book Fairs? conversation-starter. I am so not braving the crowds for Lang Mos again unless some other tourist friend wants to see it.)

Also, I’m mildly disappointed no one comes to serve me and my thrilled grin. I walk about with the large book I’m holding, browsing the stall. Seriously, no one looks at me or says anything (as in, no one cares). I could’ve just run off with it. Mummy Blogger Tries To Shoplift Lang Mo Book in Apple Daily. Why is no one handy to answer any questions I might have about my purchase or encourage me to buy two? Don’t they think I have questions? <offended>

Feel bit better when I get a giant free poster and a couple postcards of featured Lang Mo. My companions seem rather surprised I bought it. “I guess you’re getting it for Kings?” How come no one thinks I might be getting this for myself? Doesn’t anyone want to know what’s inside? “Can you not… take it out of the bag?”

Ok. Fortunately he said that, I was going to open up the huge poster. Off to Children’s Paradise then…

Children’s Paradise! See the happy child?

Except there are way fewer little kids than I expected. You’d hardly know it’s “Children’s Paradise” but for the Doraemon and Disney and Thomas the Train books – some of em (ok it seems a lot of em) workbooks. But we do pick up some Mr Men, a Bob the Builder I haven’t been able to find elsewhere, Thomas the Train numbers and more I Wonder Why (after discovering I loved them from ordering via Rockstar’s school) on the cheap.

I spy the exact same Imaginets I was so proud of bulk buying off The Metropolitan Museum of Art online store. Original HKD price is slightly more expensive than The Met one, on offer it’s maybe HKD 40 cheaper than what I paid online with subscriber’s discount. Then I get a little freaked by the sheer volume of children’s workbooks and things…

Like so…
And so…

(In case you were wondering it was booths reading things like “Oxford Path” and “Gifted Child” Group – I was expecting Reading Is Fun-type stuff and maybe a bouncing castle in the shape of  books and pencils with smiley faces, maybe a few friendly frogs perched on toadstools reading, and some educational fun fair-type games with lotsa kids having fun…)

Ok, at least they had a parrot?

 No wonder there aren’t many little kids having fun (despite the parrot)… I had originally thought to swing back on another day with Rockstar, but the relative crowded-ness (even though I’m assured it’s really not a crowded day) and Kumon-y tuition-ey atmostphere change my mind. Not all the booths are like that, to be sure, they’ve got good educational toys and kiddie books on the cheap that I always thought I could only find online in places like The Met. But I wasn’t  at all prepared to find tuition-ey stuff and actually start to feel a little stressed.

Near one of the exits – btw Jackie Chan/ Daniel Wu Police Story was famously filmed here…

And so it’s time to go…

Special thanks to

1) The mummy who gently insisted on showing me this
2) The guy colleague with her who provided us much amusement at his embarrassment over our Lang Mo search (but can still text us when we were in Children’s Paradise that he found more Lang Mo booths)

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Rockstarisms #136, #137 & #138 – More Grandparent Rockstarisms

Grandparent time in Sai Kung... Erm, sort of.

#136

Rockstar: Mum. Can you tell Grandmum to stop reading/ Grandpop to stop talking because I am getting a headache?

#137

Rockstar: Mum. Excuse me, mum. Grandmum is always coming up with weird songs.

Me n Grandmum (We were singing it together in the bathroom, he cut in): That’s Harry Belafonte’s Coconut Woman.

Rockstar: Nonsense!

#138

Rockstar: <Wrinkling nose and nodding knowledgeably> Mum. Grandmum is a little bit ridiculous.

 

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In Singapore: “Physical Education teacher attacks 8-year-old boy”

If you read the story off Singapore Yahoo! it would appear an 8 year old in one of Singapore’s top schools on the north side got tackled by his Chinese National PE teacher for walking off during volleyball training because it was “boring and repetitive”.

Which is why I put the headline in quote marks, “attacks”. Also why I mention first off this happened in Singapore because if you then go and read the comments there are whole sections about “FT” (Foreign Talent) and shame on the Singapore Ministry of Education for not hiring more local teachers and…..

He said, She said, They said…

School principal (apparently would say only that): Coach admitted to pulling student’s hair

One parent of another child attending same class: Boy walked off allegedly finding lesson boring and repetitive. Enraged coach allegedly slapped and kicked the boy.

Local news: Coach nudged the pupil’s head with her hand and tapped him on the foot.

Another parent (described as 40 year old businessman) of another child attending same class: his son who witnessed it has been badly affected by the violence. (Got me thinking HOW bad was this?! It was violent?)

Third parent whose son has been in the same class as recipient of PE teacher’s actions: Other parents have complained about this 8 year old boy recipient’s behavior.

I was just thinking, how long before someone decides security cameras are the best way to quash all the versions flying about. Don’t waste time and energy. Time is money? Then spend it (the money) on cameras. You’re still better off without the backlash. You may never have to play back a tape, the presence of cameras will probably cut speculation and gossip right down.

Ok sorry this is coming from someone who is used to having “lived” in earlier years in dealing rooms where you can’t use a cellphone and all your conversations (including the ones with boyfriends) are taped, or your Bloomberg conversations transcripted. (And yes there was a security camera right above my old seat in my last place). So a bit too used to the concept of everything on tape.

Actually I have an idea to save money, as well as energy. Don’t install cameras.

Just tell everyone you installed cameras. The signs don’t cost nearly as much.

ps: In case it wasn’t clear, I was kidding.

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Rockstarisms #133, #134 & #135 – The Grandparent Rockstarisms

Given the recent Grandparent Roadshow, where Rockstar spent time with all 4 grandparents, we have a few gems… (Or rather, mortifications)

smartass on skateboard

#133:

Rockstar: (To everyone in the car) Bats eat beetles, and –

Grandmum: (To me, in our own conversation) – eating crabs in –

Rockstar: Mum! Grandmum says bats eat crabs. Nonsense!

#134:

Rockstar: Mum. Tell Grandpop to stop speaking rubbish.

(Again everyone talking at the same time)

#135:

Rockstar: Mum. Tell Grandmum to stop singing and just talk or read.

Me: You think your grandparents cannot hear you when they are sitting right next to you issit?

Rockstar: Hee. I don’t like the singing. The reading is quite alright.

(Fortunately the doting grandparents find this hilarious… maybe because he’s just 3.5… Wait another year we’ll all be doing time)

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The Rule (Or All That Glitters…)

It occurred to me recently how much your mind can hurt or hinder you. Thoughts, emotions, expectations, memories… Dealing with people – inlaws, parents, family friends, anyone handling something important to you, say, your children…

It wasn’t any one thing, more a combination of stuff that brought me here. A question from a dear reader, providing counsel to a friend, recent encounters with “tradition” (in inverted commas because I believe like in the name of “religion” people can use “tradition” for personal gain)…

When I used to work fairly long hours, Rockstar was often with a helper, and I had one big house rule that drove me nuts when broken: Never lie. Never let me catch you lying.

There was a big reason for The Rule. I was hungry for information about Rockstar. Any little thing that would make the (relatively longer) hours I spent at work missing new stuff he did more bearable. (Though certainly loving what I did for a living helped a bunch.) Every morsel of information, I would lap up. Hence The Rule. Because of the reliability (or not) it implied of all the other things Rockstar’s then-main caregiver might tell me about my son. What if she couldn’t care less and made stuff up, even if it was just little stories, or exaggerated stuff about my son?

Does he really eat all his food?

Does she really feed him from the carefully-written menus and umpteen meg file toddler recipe book I had printed in color after one of the working-mummy-support-group-uh-bunch-of-friends-and-colleagues forwarded it to me?

How’s he really doing in pre-school?

What does he really like doing all day at home?

Before Rockstar, I didn’t care very much about the helper. As long as the dog was happy and got walked a lot. It wasn’t hard to find helpers who loved dogs. We might have higher-than-you-could-possibly-expect-of-two-yuppies-especially-when-one -eats-out-often grocery expenditure, but when it got too often, we would tut-tut and then it would go down, no biggie.

But post-Rockstar, I cared with an absolute vengeance. Before we went to ESF (and for the record are very happy here), Rockstar at ~18 months attended a pre-school/ “baby class” with a helper (because you were either supposed to attend with your child or send a helper). Every time I asked, and sometimes when I didnt, this helper (who was eventually fired for an accumulation of untruths) would tell me how well Rockstar was doing. He knew how to do everything required of him in the pre-school. He found it all easy-breezy.

It’s possible if she added he’d replicated Mozart’s Magic Flute on the little toy xylophone in school after hearing it played as background music I might have been a little suspicious, but we can never say for sure. There are things that we will always find easier to believe about our children than others.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what I most wanted to hear and I can understand why the helper did it – life’s just easier when you tell the tired working mum happy things at the end of the day.

So then I went to work for months thinking everything was just hunky-dory when it wasn’t. Til the day someone else’s helper blabbed to me that Rockstar was the oldest baby in the class. He’d been held back for some months.

Only 2 babies, twins, hadn’t been held back in our class; other mums who attended with their children every day (unlike yours truly) but were similarly not told about the retention were writing complaint emails. I was completely oblivious, I thought I was supposed to call the school when he came of age to switch to an older class, and had simply neglected to do it – I even remember one day thinking Oh Yeah Gotta Switch Classes, calling the school from the dealer board in between trades, then thinking Ok Done. Check! (the person on the other end of the line simply took down Rockstar’s details without comment, thereby perpetuating the belief I was simply supposed to make a routine call.) Then I bumped into one of the mums and heard the rest of the story. (I erm, blinked and was Uh, I wasn’t just supposed to call in a message?)

After the mums-of-held-back-babies-fallout, this particular pre-school did try to fix it by having said teacher meet each child’s parent – whereupon the teacher told us Rockstar’s then-helper did everything for him so she had no idea he could do anything himself – I was pretty much sending my helper to pre-school. (It likely didn’t help that Rockstar didn’t really like his teacher, probably because she thought he couldn’t do anything yet, and it showed in her interaction with him). It was a non-apology apology. The teacher realized she was mistaken about his developmental level when he got into the older class, which he had to attend sans adult. (This time, she picked up on his developmental stage quickly. Their relationship also improved.) As a teacher, she was professional enough to be honest with me about it and I greatly respect that. Must’ve taken some guts, what with some of the mum-reaction during that time.

Let's all be pink and happy and dance around

This isn’t a rant about the proficiency of caregivers. It was me noticing the dependency I had had on a helper to tell me about my son’s day and the vulnerability, the erm, “exploit-ability,” by a less-than-professional person picking it up. This is the mistake I made and lesson I learned from it.

I’ve had helpers who swear they looooove children, they love my child to absolute bits, they know my child, they know what my child wants, they – hang on. My child already has a mother. Hi there, have we met? Sometimes I don’t even know everything Rockstar wants and neither does he. (At which point I remind him if he doesn’t know what he wants, how is he going to get it? This is also why he “takes a moment” to think and decide what he wants..)

It’s just an analogy, but it’s not like helpers go to erm, Helper School to teach them not to tell you little fibs. But emotionally, if they’re the ones with information we’re dying to hear about our child, it’s hard to not listen. Just bear in mind it can make you fair game for being manipulated by someone who might not care whether it’s professional (or loving or unselfish in the case of relations) to use a vulnerability/ anxiety/ sense of responsibility for their own purposes. Emotion – love, guilt, anger and so on – all easily exploitable. And frankly the kind of character who lacks a conscience about exploiting it is probably the most likely to do so and doesn’t give sound counsel to begin with. Why allow it?

Because when I get neurotic, nervous, is when I forget to think. Being emotional can cost you your ability to think clearly. And btw this is me telling myself, when I get nervous about Rockstar’s adapting to K2 and impending Pri school interviews. (No big secret here – ’tis going to be the season in HK soon, almost everyone’s gonna be nervous especially if you’re a first time parent in HK- even if I claimed I wasn’t in the least bit nervous I think no one’s gonna believe me.)

So I will take professional any day. I need the professional to tell me the hard stuff I might not be able to see myself because I am so heavily emotionally invested.

Posted in Rockstar Thoughts, Talking To Rockstar | 8 Comments