5 About Parenting – Azita Crerar

Posted on January 24, 2011 by admin

And there you thought you were only stuck with me here… Periodically I’m hoping to invite other parent bloggers/ writers to guest contribute, beginning with Azita, previously from Canada, who homeschooled her older boy before successfully entering him directly into K2 under the age of 4 and plans to do the same with her younger.

The following is all her.

Azita Crerar has been living in Macau for the last 11 years. She left her job as a school teacher when she and her husband made the decision to start a family. She has been home for 7 years, and in this time, besides taking care of her two sons, has cultivated her passion in writing.

1) How would you describe raising a child in Hong Kong today?

I have 2 boys – a 3-year old who is currently at home with me, and a 6-year old enrolled in P1 at School of the Nations in Macau. It is an International school, using English and Mandarin.

Macau is not as congested as Hong Kong, not as populated, not as busy. That said, there are similarities. Many moms are working moms and their pre-school age kids are either with domestic helpers, grandparents, or in daycares. I made a decision to stay home for my kids, probably based on the fact that I am not from Macau and this is what my mother did with us. It certainly has its challenges.

Sometimes I am the only mom in the park with my kid (first the older one, now the 3-year old). The helpers and grandparents wonder why my kid is not with a helper or in daycare. I have to defend my stance as a stay-at-home mom!

Facilities have improved in Macau over the years. We used to have few alternatives if the weather was rainy or too hot. Now we have indoor play centers and Macau’s new Science Center.

2) Particular curriculum, class size, physical layout/facilities, ethnic demographics, results in exams, commitment to extra-curricular programs, sports/music/arts programs, homework, private tuition, training/qualifications/dedication of teachers, whether the school is accredited by an outside organization (CIS, IBO etc)

Which of these are more important to you when making a decision involving your child’s education and why?

I generally like to think what is good for locals is good enough for us. I actually tried to enroll my 6-year old into a local Chinese school when he was almost 4. After all, his father is Chinese and grew up in Macau. When we went for the interview, the school was concerned that my son’s Cantonese wasn’t good enough to cope!

The school that he currently goes to has small class sizes, and this was especially important for the kindergarten years for me. It also has a customized kindergarten programme developed especially for the school, so I knew we were in good hands.

At such a young age, I am not so concerned about exams, extra programmes, homework, tutoring, etc. I want my child to be happy at school, to be confident, to be in a nurturing environment, to know that character training is uppermost. With this sort of environment, I am happy to send my son to school in the morning. The rest are details, the frosting on the cake, and can come later.

3) How important is learning music and/or playing a sport as a supplement to your child’s education?

We have not yet jumped on the bandwagon of filling every extra minute up. We tried swimming when my son was 4 years old, but he was tired after a day of school, and after two weeks dissolved into tears. I would have liked him to continue, but it was for his benefit, not mine. So we stopped, and of his own accord he showed an interest when he was 5, splashing around the pool in the summer, trying to learn on his own.

We do tennis one day a week after school. He enjoys it, but we have to juggle homework and dinner on that day. He also does soccer once a week on Sundays. He expressed an interest in it, so we were happy to place him in a second sport. It helps keep his weight down, and we find that he does not get sick as often as he used to.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z8xxgFpK-NM]

We are also waiting for a Capoeira class to start at school. It is a combination of physical prowess, music, and coordination, but over and above this, it teaches cooperation, self-confidence, working in groups, etc. It sounds exciting as it takes a rather holistic approach to body and mind.

We haven’t yet looked into music (besides the integration into Capoeira). That will probably come in a few years. When I broach the topic now, he is adamant about not going for lessons, so taking our cue from the swimming lessons 2 years ago, I know he is not yet ready.

4) How important is learning an additional language like Putonghua, Spanish, French (or other)?

I come from a multi-lingual background, so it is natural to expect that my kids will grow up knowing more than one language, and they do. They get English and Mandarin at school, English and Cantonese in the home.

We have French books in the house, some Spanish DVDs, but I haven’t yet pushed these. They don’t need to know these languages living in Macau, but they may be useful if they were to live elsewhere when they grow up. Since they are learning 3 languages at the moment, I know that they can easily pick up a 4th, 5th, etc. language at a later point. There’s no hurry. Who knows? They may turn around and tell me they want to learn Japanese or German one day, and that’s fine. They may also express little interest in learning more languages, and that’s fine too.

5) Everyone’s children are different, and what helps one child excel may not work for another child… What decisions are you especially proud you made regarding your children, and why was this particularly well-suited to them?

I don’t know if I did this for myself or for my children, but I kept the older one home until the year he turned 4, and am doing the same with the younger one. In Canada no one would have batted an eyelid, but here many heads have turned and many tongues have wagged. They say every child is different, and they also say mommy knows best. This mommy made a decision that her older kid was still quite a baby at the age of 3. When I sent him straight into K-2 at the age of almost 4, I saw that he readily adapted to school, never cried, never clung to me. He jumped right in, fitted in, participated well, and was quite sociable. We skipped the tears, skipped the insecurity, skipped the misbehaviour. I’ll never regret this.

With the 3-year old who is currently at home with me, I thought that he might be ready for a half-day in a daycare. Or possibly, I thought Mommy might be ready for half a day to herself! I was wrong. He’s not yet ready. So we are biding our time.

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Sunday Morning In Wan Chai

Posted on January 23, 2011 by admin

Rough night in Wan Chai…

Blurry because I snap this quickly before the auntie turns and scolds me…

Passing places like Club Venus and various tattoo parlours in Wan Chai always tickles me – it’s like having strippers and after hours tattoos in Tanjong Pagar Singapore

When we first got here almost 7 years ago, I had breakfast in Wan Chai with Kings before he went to the office. He was in classic banker power suit, and I – it was before I started work, so I was in sneakers, jeans and a hoodie. I must have looked like a college student because we got looks. (For the record, Kings is a whole month younger than me)

(Needless to say Rockstar isn’t allowed to run about in case he falls on his hands… Broken glass + Wan Chai germs = superfreakie mummy)

Hay Hay is open 24 hours… and we love the local Wantan noodles with large dumplings… Rockstar devoured quite a bit… He was the only toddler while we were there though, and I sprayed the table with sanitiser… (Was thinking everyone spits out bones and skin onto the tables and then they wipe all the tables with the same rag)

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Life is Beautiful, Tiger Mother

Posted on January 21, 2011 by admin

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=16RZHqCIy9M]

1997 Italian film Life is Beautiful is set in World War II and tells the tale of a father, Guido, played by Roberto Benigni, who strives to shield his 4 year old son from the horrors of a Nazi concentration camp. As a youth I watched it – it was a great movie, I watched lotsa movies back then. But it was as a parent that I really saw it.

Surrounded by the most horrible acts of cruelty, misery, discrimination, and all the things that make you see the world’s ugliness, Benigni portrays a father who, when he and his son are taken to the concentration camp on his son’s birthday, turns the Holocaust experience into a huge game for his son’s benefit and survival.

OK, quiz time.

a) “Don’t cry, don’t be afraid, or they will shoot you,” or

b) “We’re playing a game and loser is the first to cry or get scared,” and “What do you mean ‘Where are all the other kids?’ All the other kids are hiding too because they’re also trying to win the game!”

Which way of speaking to the boy do you think worked better?
(And which one was harder?)

(Oh please don’t come back and say “But so unrealistic! Didn’t tell the boy the truth!” I knowlah. I’m just saying the way he spoke to his son, that humongous effort to put that face on and pretend he is not scared out of his mind is something to draw inspiration from.)

And yeah, this is a fictional character. But there were millions of Holocaust Jews. Are you telling me one Italian comedian can come up with that when his own son is not in danger, but out of millions in the concentration camp not a single parent thought to do (or at least valiantly try) that, ease their own child’s suffering, increase their chances of survival with that?

That’s my wimpy response to Tiger Mother:

I couldn’t do it her way. So let me find another.

Never mind about right way/ wrong way to parent (there are umpteen parents, academics, journalists, publishers and shrinks who will be debating this til the cows come home and I will conveniently look up their notes – why waste their effort? Why duplicate it?)

But – I could never do that. It’s not me. Never mind Rockstar, my husband would probably need therapy. Kings and I were both children who had terrible reactions to Tiger Mothering (in Kings’ case by a teacher when he was a little older). It did not help us perform.

Kings went on to a strong First at London School of Economics (and letting schoolmates photocopy his notes all the way – this is what makes me so proud of him) when he was very much not Tiger Mothered.

<Thinking> I’m not Yale Law, but I’m not too stupid either. Right? I… think.

I’d rather inspire my child Life is Beautiful way. That I might be able to do. Come up with the best way to talk to him, every step of the way. Not drag him kicking and screaming to the piano. And I can repeat as needed, “You are not even in a concentration camp. You are not even in a concentration camp. (Even if you are in a society that has gotten so competitive even little kids are getting so pressured – oh stop being so melodramatic, Aileen.)

I write flippantly as usual, but some of that pressure to excel (and I’m talking about the parenting of many young children in Hong Kong) is real. Somewhere between “How old is he?” (as you check the developmental stage of your own child as a reflex) and “How come the other child can draw that, is the school paying enough attention to mine?” it went from constructive to cuckoo.

I think it adds an unnecessary layer of stress. When I make remarks like “parents should work together” I mean to not stress young kids unnecessarily by being ultra competitive with each other. As is, we have to raise kids in a Facebook, Twitter and cellphone world. Do we slap charges on them like they’re adults when they find inspiration to do more horrible things to each other with technology today, or do we try our best to raise them without giving them more reasons to be that way with each other. I disclose stuff on this blog all the time to make the point. I’m trying to be deliberately un-kiasu.

I don’t believe a “not sharing” culture in the extreme necessarily helps our kids. But I do believe it can hurt them. It’s like another “handicap,” and I think it can build insecurity. “I have to always hide some of what I learn because otherwise people can beat me.” Doesn’t that look like “I’m not good enough without being selfish”?

What about “I don’t need a handicap to kick butt, and all us sharers are going to get better together, and then we’re gonna form this club and laugh at you, you insecure little —-“ OK it’s possible I had too much caffeine. The Kosmo guy has been upsizing me for free after I told him where to get my laptop Gelaskin.

Our best ideas should be shared not because we are uncompetitive (which would be unreal), but because if we truly strive to keep getting better, those ideas shouldn’t be all we’ve got. It should be “Ok – what’s next?” (And “Maybe someone else’s feedback will help me improve on it”) not “I’m a one-hit wonder.”

The first time I heard the term “karma” referred to in parenting (I just conveniently refer to it as Parent Karma), it was by one of my pastors. As his own 4 children grew and some reached college age, he realized to what extent he would never be able to keep all “bad ideas” and “influences” from them. Christians believe in grace, we’re not supposed to expect something good in exchange for doing something good, we are “good” (ie show grace) because of how “good” we believe God has already been to us.

But even as I pray for my child, I hope things like when my child begins to realize there are points of view other than his parents’ he will seek counsel from other godly role models.

My example might be religious, but it can easily apply to lots of other things. It’s about not simply agreeing with the teenager who thinks you’re “cool” (because their own parents are never “cool”) that it’s not that bad an idea to drop out of college – not because you really think so, but because you don’t care that much, it’s not your own child. THIS is what I mean by parents sticking together – doesn’t it bother you someone might be doing that with your child? Why don’t we all pledge not to do that with all our children? Might not be yours, but it’s someone’s child.

Guess it’s why I say, try my best to not fill other kid’s heads with nonsense.

It’s a hope other parents will not do that with mine.

Wouldn’t it be beautiful if our children brought out our best, not our worst. Like Guido.

(Yeah I know I kinda digressed at the end, but I got excited. Got…. to…. tell the Kosmo people…. No…. more…. Upsizing!)

PS: Did anyone get my Concentration Camp vs Piano at Carnegie Hall allusion :D?

Special thanks to C for mailing me about Tiger Mother the moment that came out (but I vowed not to mention it unless I had something of my own to say – I’m thinking I shouldn’t be newswire, there are actual newswires whom people go to for breaking news)…

I imagine C balancing her Cherub and reading up… MWBs (Mums With Babies) probably make some of the most up-to-date news and forum readers around. They’re the ones who can’t visit Planet Fitness or go shopping because they’re trapped under napping babies <blissful reminiscence>

C’s from Yale too… But I bet she doesn’t Tiger Mother 😉

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First Session On The ESF Parent Volunteer Program

Posted on January 19, 2011 by admin

No more handholding <tiny tear>

All potential parent volunteers joining the program were invited to a briefing about a month ago, it was my first day yesterday volunteering during school hours <proud>.

When the free play session was almost up (which is when we’re supposed to leave the floor), I was dismissed by Rockstar a few minutes early. “Mum. I think… we meet for Babycinnos later.” It’s like he’s trying to let me down easy. “I’m busy now,” he explains politely. <n-ot so proud>

For my first session, I sat down at the colored paper station (at the briefing we’re told you can stay at the station you’re assigned, or follow your child about especially on the first few rounds when everything’s new). Rockstar’s still having a snack, so I pop by the snack area to say hi. He says hi back, and he will join me when he’s done.

I look around and notice quite a few kids have extra snacks packed for them from home, so later I ask Rockstar (again) if he wants something from home and he says no. “I have the school crackers.” (I’d like to know how they did that so I can have him eat the “home chicken,” we got a talking to from the pediatrician at his last regular checkup because he still won’t eat meat and isn’t “carbing up” enough – his snack choices are fruit, hard-boiled eggs or cheese. Ah well. “School crackers” are a carb right?)

When he’s done with the crackers, I can see him craning his neck as he comes back in, We have a walk and are back at the paper station. Rockstar’s schoolmates occasionally stop by, folding and cutting, exchanging little child-friendly scissors. As I talk to Rockstar, they start looking at me expectantly and showing me papers.

“Squares and rectangles”.

Uh-oh. What am I supposed to say, am I supposed to blindly agree with them? But that one’s not a rectangle.

Come on, Aileen. Think. They’re children. Rockstar is also a “children”. What would you say to Rockstar?

I wouldn’t have let it slide. It would drive me nuts to let that slide. Even if they don’t remember it, I’ll remember it. And so would Rockstar. Catching Mummy out is like his new hobby. His little beady hamster eyes are watching me.

“Um… Technically that’s a trapezium. Only two of the sides are parallel.”

(Thinking: WHERE THE HELL IS MY LAPTOP SO I CAN CHECK IF IT’S STILL A TRAPEZIUM IF THAT THIRD SIDE IS AT A RIGHT ANGLE TO THE TWO PARALLEL SIDES LIKE WHAT ROCKSTAR’S CLASSMATE IS HOLDING UP?)

Okok (frantically cutting paper) I know if the other two are not at right angles that’s definitely a trapezium.

“This is a trapezium. This is a rectangle.”

Changethesubjectchangethesubjectchangethesubject

(hurried snip) “O-KAY, this one’s easy – what’s this?” Everyone knows it’s a triangle.

Yippee. Off the hook.

Rockstar kind of takes me aside while we’re tidying up the paper-cutting just before it’s time for me to go back down and that’s how he breaks it to me he’ll see me later.

“You’re busy?”

“I have school.”

Be careful what you wish for? Sigh. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little Really? Don’t Need Mummy? But you’re only 3!

But it’s the best reaction I could hope for.

There was a time when I was beginning to wonder if Rockstar might be color-blind, around the time when toddlers start learning colors he never got it right. Until we realized he’d been getting it right every time with people he wanted to learn with, and politely and deliberately giving wrong answers when he wanted to end the lesson.

(Coming home from work after long days in the office, we got the wrong answers. The neighbors’ kids who were “cool” older boys he wanted to impress got the right answers. We found out when we asked them to try and teach him colors and they replied he’d already known all the basic colors for several weeks now. When we told Rockstar, he stopped giving wrong answers.)

As a first time mum raising my son in Hong Kong, this really scared me. There are so many applicants to good Kindergartens, Rockstar’s school is also several times oversubscribed. Technically, I worried, good schools don’t really need to spend the extra care if little kids deliberately start giving wrong answers because they develop some inexplicable dislike for lessons or the building – if the child “flunks out” there are so many others waiting for a spot. And given Rockstar’s personality I was terrified if he developed a dislike for school at his very first real school experience, I might have a longer term problem.

When Rockstar began at ESF several months back, there was an “About Me” parents were encouraged to fill in asap and send back to the school. It took me more than 2 hours, carefully filling in as much detail as I could and hoping it would help the school get to know him better quickly. Nervously, I mentioned this thing about Rockstar’s personality of strong motivations and strong dislikes. In the same rush of starting school almost 2 weeks late (we were out of town) I then filled in the Volunteer Program form wrongly and forgot about it.

The school could have chosen not to allow me to volunteer during school hours, it was completely my mistake in blundering the form ages ago, but they did adjust. It makes me feel that oversubscribed or no, they remained approachable – which I value very much on the offchance I or my child do not do “everything right all the time”. The additional stress in believing we have to get everything right the first time, which I think Hong Kong sometimes has in abundance and it makes me worry, is something I think my child will be able to sense as well, he can feel the stress.

Maybe the “approachable-ness” is another reason he is motivated to take his lessons and schooling experience seriously.

His enthusiasm (and seriousness) in attending school each day is everything I could have hoped for, for his first formal start in school. I count the enthusiasm for learning more important than say, him memorizing the difference between Hexagons and Octagons.

I’m sure we’re going to face some other challenges in future, there always are – so I’m going to savour his current love of school.

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(Some) things I learnt at the ESF Parent Volunteer Briefing

Posted on January 19, 2011 by admin

Rockstar and other rules (he’s trying to read signs at mom)

(If you can’t tell when I’m joking, don’t take this whole entry seriously. What you should take away from this is the care a school takes before letting people, albeit other parents who simply want to be more involved and experience school with their own child, near the children in their charge.)

1.Safety always comes first. If you can’t handle something, tell the staff you can’t handle it.

And – this one’s for the bankers – if the fire alarm goes off, actually follow the instructions and move it.

(A lot of the time no one moves in dealing rooms when the alarms go off except Designated Fire Drill People*)

*usually interns, people who hadn’t been around to deflect the responsibility, people who want to go down and grab a coffee or yak on their cellphone at the Safe Location, the Unusually Charitable Because They Just Got Back From Block Leave

2. No pictures or videos of anyone other than your own child.

Don’t try to film/ take pictures of your friend’s child for them without letting the staff know first. You might get rugby tackled. (Kidding – but you’ll be stopped)

(Ok, seriously – some parents have specified they don’t want pictures of their children taken and/or circulated. You would have to go thru which children’s parents are fine with it. Easiest is don’t take any.)

3. Be aware of children’s body space and physical contact issues

Love this.

I don’t have to make excuses for the fact I don’t like hugging anyone else’s child (except when social situations call for it with Close Friends and Their Very Special Children.) I hope they told the children to respect my personal space. (They did, right?)

4. Don’t talk to media.

Self explanatory. Not even the good stuff. Legal & Compliance departments in the banks trained me well. They would not see it as good stuff. They don’t see many things as good stuff. They are deeply unhappy human beings.

5. No profanity.

Note to self: No saying “crap”. No saying “crap”. No saying “crap”.

Riddle: How do Kindergarten teachers manage to go their whole workday surrounded by screaming little kids without the sweet release of even a teeny tiny soft-swear?

Answer: Hypnosis.

6. No smoking, no alcohol, no drugs.

Shocking.

7. Don’t harass or abuse anyone.

What’s wrong with these people??

8. Stay in the waiting area until it’s actually time to go volunteer.

Because more serious “learning time” is going on just before that.
Gotcha. Bet you thought that was me being too smart again. Wrongo.

9. Volunteer time is not parent-teacher conference time.

Do not start engaging your child’s teacher in a heart-to-heart about the quality of your child’s artwork. Apparently there are other children besides your rockstar who – get this – deserve equal attention. This is what’s wrong with the world today.

(Note to self: don’t make eye contact with anyone you know is a teacher. Just in case.)

There’s also a quick reminder that volunteers are not to go looking in other children’s portfolios. I’m sure this is just something they had to mention because there were stories about parents from <uppity sniff> other schools who want to see how their kids’ work measures up to others. No parent like that attends my son’s school. I know. I’m a parent at the school.

10. Don’t enter the children’s toilets without telling a staff member. Don’t be alone with any child other than your own anywhere on the premises without another staff member or grownup around. If your child decides they want your company when they go to the toilet, you still have to tell a staff member, in case another child enters the toilet while you’re in there with your child.

This was an education. It’s something I would never have thought twice about if not pointed out to me.

It’s a tough tradeoff – on one hand, you want to be able to let parents who are keen on spending time with their child during the school experience contribute. On the other hand, you have to protect everyone’s children.

I like that there are rules laid out. The only way I’m going to be sure no one else is doing nonsense around my child is if I’m not allowed to be an idiot near anyone else’s child.

Besides, the alternative is doing a nutty and then everyone gets their volunteer privileges revoked – no chance to experience your child’s first school experiences together, no opportunities to strike up more conversations about school days, “Yeah I saw that too, he was totally throwing that sand, so he wasn’t allowed back in the sand pit for the day – if you can’t be trusted to play there responsibly, you won’t be allowed to play there at all” <feel so good about getting that one in> – because the school is afraid of fruitcakes.

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False Alarms We Love

Posted on January 18, 2011 by admin

This is the Rockstar. After finishing with the toys within easy reach, he’s trying to get at the toys stored behind them. Except this is the sick room of Dr Leo Chan / Dr Wong Yee Ling’s clinic. (They have 2 rooms, one for sick kids, the other a “Well Baby Clinic”.)

I got called from a first-time-meeting-someone lunch at Thai Basil because Rockstar was “lying in the sick room”.

My son willing to lie down somewhere is a lot more alarming to me than hearing he had a tummy ache. (He’s been having tummy aches that come and go for a week, most of them lasting maybe 15 – 20 minutes, I thought it was the side effect of an innoculation jab he got at his 3 year checkup.) He developed a low grade fever which was probably why the school called.

So I arrive at ESF to find my son obediently under a blanket, watched by the school nurse, and as he gets ready to go, I catch him covering his mouth to cough.

Wait.

He doesn’t covers his mouth to cough at home – is that my child?

“So mummy was really worried when she hear you were lying down. You don’t normally lie down unless you’re really very sick.”

“He did say he wasn’t tired,” his school nurse is saying.

So there’s Rockstar messing about in toys and getting into a disagreement with another little boy about a pedal bike at the Pediatrician’s. Turns out he has a tummy bug – mild enough not to medicate, and only contagious if he starts throwing up (touch wood he’s not).

Kings arrives. “You were lying down?“

Turns out Rockstar just really likes the school nurse. He keeps asking me her name after we leave.

I catch myself wondering if she could slip in something about the virtues of teeth brushing no matter how “tired” one is. (Kidding)

As one of my Taiwanese RMs used to say, “Ai-Lynn-ah. Assident no-buh-dy hurt is best of unlucky-ah.” N-ot quite the same thing, but close. We’ll take it. They can call us any time for false alarms.

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First Lesson In Heng Yue Yen Long Kwon (Modern Chinese Kung Fu) Association

Posted on January 16, 2011 by admin

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9NDklcTzCvA]

Scene from any kid martial arts movie <iinsert own rockstar surveying dojo>… Note bear on floor, this is the class for the youngest kids, they jump over teddies for warmup

Rockstar was supposed to try out his first  Heng Yue Yen Long Kwon lesson like, 2 months ago, that was how long back Kings called the Association about enrollment. The father of our child has decided he will not be learning taekwondo (like yours truly did for 8 years) because we live in Kung Fu Land. Also, he was hoping Rockstar would pick up Cantonese while rubbing shoulders with local kids at some “very local activity” (his words not mine).

(We found out after we enrolled for HYYLK that ESF actually has martial arts in their sports program. Oops. We never checked it out. We were thinking soccer or basketball for Rockstar in school.)

Anyway Rockstar only just hit their minimum enrollment age of 3 years. As we skim the rules, there’s one saying students who are late are to wait outside til the teacher allows them to join the class. Kings promptly starts trying to get us out the door like, 25 minutes before the time we were supposed to leave, in case he can’t find the place.

So we hit Causeway Bay rather early. (Hello, Gold Dragon I Never Managed To Take Picture Of Previously, there was always some big fat bus or taxi blocking the shot from our car window)

But by the time we park the car in the multi-storey, and figure out where to go, we’re less than 10 mins early… I look to the left and half expect Godzilla to come crashing thru the cramped buildings… Go figure…

“Lots of big boys?” Rockstar is hopeful. He has a few female friends in school now, but occasionally still bemoans girl-heavy activities “Yellow group no good… all girls”

Waiting for the lift are 2 little Hongkie girls – I can feel Rockstar’s mild dismay. “No, we’re going for ballet.” He brightens visibly and I hope their (nice, friendly) mum doesn’t notice. We hear a loud voice down in the street… This auntie who’s selling magazines is walking up and down complaining about something loudly – we can hear her from 3 stories up (never discover what she’s mad about though, before the lift arrives)

We arrive to find Rockstar will have 3 classmates, all of whom are almost a whole head taller than he is (and probably a year or more older, this is the 3yrs and up class. They’ve also all been here before). Two are already yellow belts. Two are blonde. Two are girls. One speaks French. The only other Asian (except the instructors who sound like local Hongkies) is a girl who is speaking English in (what sounds to me like) a faint American accent.

By which time we are no longer surprised the class is conducted in English.

There is one of those electronic photoframes that alternates different pictures, and an image of Andy Lau with the masters flashes by. Then one with Stephen Chow. That’s when I think I recognise the master – I vaguely seem to remember a tv ad publicizing the school, where the master swung his sword in a demonstration, slicing thru some boards.

Initially, we don’t have much intention of coming back after this HKD 330 initial lesson. Kings is (I think rather unduly) dismayed that it’s an English class rather than a “very-local Hongkie class,” he was hoping Rockstar would get a big local Hongkie experience. I am put off when a Caucasian mum asks (I think too loudly), “When does (my older child) start black belt training?” Even as another parent is trying valiantly to deal with his child’s (loud) meltdown in French. I take another look at the mum asking and notice she’s wearing a brightly colored long chinese jacket emblazoned with what looks like dragons and other oriental motifs – which is when I catch myself being a total bitch. I manage to move away casually.

But the celebrity pictures and question make me worry this is a bit too commercialized.

(Some kind of misguided “reverse snobbish-ness”? Some of my own martial arts experiences were in tough neighborhood schools where they teach martial arts to instill discipline. They wouldn’t be called good schools academically, but I really liked those kids I trained with. I walked away with some friendships I value til today.)

Loud Meltdown continues for like, 20 minutes.

Rockstar stands at the edge of the group, not wanting to participate.

Kings and I half heartedly cajole him.

All 3 of us are grappling with reconciling our expectations. (Rockstar was expecting a boys class. Now the only other boy is clearly miserable to be here, he is still in meltdown mode.)

I try to shake off Bad First Impression, knowing it’s unfairly colored by Black Belt Question.

Then they bring out the punching and kicking pads and loud yells and suddenly Rockstar’s interested. So is the other boy. Discipline returns as the little kids take turns kicking and punching. It must be difficult, starting a whole bunch of little kids together.

Rockstar is very obviously watching the other little boy in class avidly, and when his father returns, he says something in French – his son immediately comes over and tries to take Rockstar’s hand. (Except half the time Rockstar doesn’t even like holding my hand. But it’s a gesture much appreciated by both Rockstar and his mother.)

I make a point of praising Little French Boy’s chops and palm strikes and note with satisfaction that he goes at it with renewed enthusiasm.

Parents should stick together, it’s hard enough raising kids these days with the internet and what’s on tv.

As the class winds up, Rockstar is just getting started, and his instructor spends a few extra minutes with him at the punching bags. The next class of older kids is rolling in, and we notice there are at least a few local Hongkies mixed in with everyone else.

Why don’t I just teach Rockstar to kick and punch?

Because he would learn just that. Only that. We were hoping for all the other things martial arts school would teach too, in a class environment with seniors, juniors – and the discipline that should follow should skills learnt ever be misused. It was why I was a little put off by Black Belt Question.

My son has a martial arts instructor, and it’s not me. If I really wanted him to do well and learn in the class, it is something I must recognise. He has to see me recognise.

I really hate bullies. But teaching my son to fight without the discipline imposed in a school and class environment (which I don’t know how I’m going to recreate at home as effectively with my only child learning to simply kick and punch in the right way) may not teach him as effectively how not to misuse what he learnt.

But I’m still a mum first. I don’t trust myself to be entirely objective if my son dishes out (though I will certainly try my best for his own good… N-ot that I think it’s going to be a thing, Rockstar is currently in the lowest 3 percentile for height and doesn’t really have that personality anyway.)

It’s a very, very difficult thing – ask anyone who’s ever had their little kids get seriously bullied on the playground. 90% of the time, the aggressor’s parent will never notice or respond as quickly as the recipient’s parent. It’s just human nature. The recipient is not your child.

Rockstar wants to come back. So we did HKD 1,100 for 4 lessons (it makes the first trial lesson cheaper), and will see where we go from there. He’s not getting the HYYLK uniform he asked for til he shows me he’s still interested next week.

As Little French Boy leaves, I make a point of thanking him gravely for being such a good role model to Rockstar. I hope it helps with meltdowns too, his dad was so kind. Parent Karma? They were kind to Rockstar, hopefully Little French Boy is also psyched.

Rockstar’s instructor worked really hard at getting him to finally try to follow some of the moves. Her patience and dedication would have earned my respect far more than any “paper” qualificationas she tried to inspire Rockstar. Then in some of the pictures I notice – she’s one of the more senior instructors.

Rockstar came home asking to practice his punching with me. As he starts, I hesitate – then adjust his fist so his thumb doesn’t stick out. The fist shouldn’t be clenched too tightly, you can hurt your thumb badly if you accidentally strike something hard. It was just the one thing. I wondered if that might be different for Kung Fu when I saw Rockstar doing it, and had been looking at the instructors’ fists. None of them had had their thumbs sticking out.

(But they had also has their hands full with the loud meltdown, and Rockstar was NOT an easy customer initially, he didn’t want to do anything at first. They’re a pretty famous school, bet we could probably have walked away and they wouldn’t have been any worse for it, but they really tried hard with Rockstar.)

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Rockstarism #104

Posted on January 16, 2011 by admin

Rockstar: (Eyeing weird dead bug on floor) WHAT THE HELL IS THAT??!

Me: (Thinking he must have picked that up from me somehow… I say that a lot when I think he’s not around)

More good news for me. I might be an unfit parent.

Rockstar: WHY??

Me: Uh… Look at that BUG…Eeeee… Doesn’t it look weird?

Rockstar: MUM!!!!!

Me: What?

Rockstar: You… Didn’t… ANSWER!!!

Me: (quietly) Oh, crap.

Rockstar: HEE HEE HEE

Me: Oh, come on. You didn’t get that. You’re three.

Rockstar: HEE HEE HEE

(But I’m off the hook, he doesn’t ask anymore)

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The School Uniform Run II – Aston Wilson, Great Café in Pacific Place, Hong Kong Park

Posted on January 14, 2011 by admin

Rockstar starts school a week late, is delighted to be back (kudos to the school, my child with the elephant memory for forming lasting dislikes and taking things wayyy too seriously has been asking when he gets to go back to school despite an exciting 3 weeks in San Francisco – he is 3, so I count this more important than say, where he ranks in class. If a ranking existed. Um, it doesn’t, right?)

One small step: I call this the “NASA shot” – cue fanfare and Hollywood astronauts walking, in slow motion, to the space shuttle as they embark on a great adventure

(This is Rockstar actually keen on going to school. Same difference to me.)

Except when we get in I look around at all the other kids and realize I was supposed to schlep back to the school uniform store for winterwear.

First child, first winter back to school. It hadn’t occurred to me there would be that much “standard issue winterwear” – coat/ windbreaker, fleece vest, winter-weight sweaters and pants. (I was thinking everyone just wears their uniform over layered clothing and puts on their own jackets for outdoor playtime. Maybe just an extra standard issue school coat that’s optional.) There’s also very lightweight cotton shirts that are for the hottest months.

So for the next few days til I could find my way to Aston Wilson in Jordan, Rockstar went to school in (what the nice store staff will explain is) the standard issue autumn/”general weatherwear” of cotton long sleeved shirts, long pants, and his Paul & Shark windbreaker (which coincidentally is in the same-ish school navy so it’s not immediately noticeable I am Mum Who Hasn’t Bought Her Son’s School Winterwear Yet.)

I love Pacific Place. The Admiralty MTR is there, it’s a short 2 MTR stops to Jordan and a short walk to the school uniform store, instead of some much more complicated navigation by car or cab (no whopping fare either). The supermarket is great. The park is nearby. And since I spent significant chunks of my consciousness looking for quiet comfy spots to decompress at lunch hour, I love this place. I might have said that already.

I just miss the train. When I get to the empty platform, there’s a woman standing right in front of the train doors. She has on a very soft-looking grey fur, wound round her neck, and there’s also a generous rich brown glossy fur trim on her camel-colored coat.

I don’t wear real fur. I wear leather because you eat the cow, and I suppose you eat some of the animals whose fur you wear but somehow I just don’t wear it. The only time I tried to buy faux fur years ago in Hong Kong shortly after coming here, I got “Rab-bit,” enunciated carefully. (I know. You can eat rabbit. But I used to have a rabbit. Her name was Honey Bunny. I was 9.)

“We don’t have any fake fur. I don’t think it’s very easy to find, at least not of reasonable quality.” Another salesgirl laughs, not unkindly, “The good quality fake fur probably costs more than if you bought the real stuff.” I must have come across foreign and a little weird.

Woman In Two Kinds Of (I Suppose) Real Fur has taken out some moisturizer. Not the usual drug store stuff in the plastic tube, it looks like something from L’Occitane. My hands are perpetually dry-skinned, and un-manicured so I’m interested when people take care of their hands (but always end up bumming Rockstar’s Mustella, a habit formed from when I gave up the perfumed grownup stuff after he was born). The train moves, she drops the tube top – and squats on the floor to pick it up. I start, and then get embarrassed and try to recover. She’s in classic potty position.

Off the train, and why does it say “for tourists only?” in green?

Ta-daa got here – this time without the help of the friendly neighborhood 7-11. Achievement of the day. So pleased with myself.

The lady behind the counter cheerfully spreads out all the gear for me to choose from:

Sweater (My favourite, but I note in dismay it has a crew neck. Rockstar is all head.)

Winter pants (Don’t they look just like the “general weather wear”? Another mum chips in that they’re thicker. I still don’t see it. So they show me the ankles – very tapered for the coldest days outdoors. Ah. Buy 2 pairs.)

Fleece Vest (Fugly, Forget it.)

Coat/ Windbreaker (Not bad)

Uh… wasn’t there more to choose from? Or were some styles discontinued, I don’t see the navy jacket I noticed quite a few kids on Rockstar’s floor wearing?

Wordlessly, the staff unzip the windbreaker. The lining? They’re all wearing the windbreaker lining? The staff grin.

I buy 2 windbreakers. And 2 pairs of winter pants, all in over HKD 650 I think. I’m distracted because the other mum is saying goodbye. And she came in after me. And I do not move slowly, ok.

How did she have time to chat with me and still finish so quickly? She’d printed out the list and marked down what she wanted. Then exited with the bag in around 5 minutes. And no, she didn’t buy the items before, she’d come over to check out the little pile I was going over, while someone was getting her items.

Then back to Pacific Place, I have 90 minutes to grocery shop and read before our Friend Who Drives Our Car By Way Of Cushy Odd Job Til His Business Takes Off drops Rockstar off and we share a pizza at Great Cafe.

In Seibu, I snap this pic. It is up here because a security guard immediately stopped me quite loudly and I would like to know why I’m not allowed to take this pic of Rockstar and the Pandora poster. It’s not one of those window displays they pay designers to make up (I can understand if they don’t want people to copy the store decor) so what gives? Isn’t this a standard ad you can find in magazines or brochures??

(And btw, I buy Pandora. I have the US edition and the HK edition of their catalogue. Which is why Rockstar is looking at this, he picked out some of the charms on my bracelet.)

Then it’s a walk in Hong Kong Park.

Rockstar overcame his fear of Big Scary Fountain sometime back… Now every time we come here we have get a little wet stepping behind that sheet of water… There’s a big rock cave behind a waterfall we have to “do” too…

So convenient – you can buy Pad Thai, Sushi, Mushroom Tortellini, A Greek Salad or more from Great supermarket in PP, or Simply Life breads, fresh carrot juice and fruit salad, Starbucks or Pacific Coffee molten chocolate cake… and then carry it all to a bench – if your rockstar’ll let you sit in peace, of course.

Surrounded by all the office buildings and near so many banks, Rockstar lunches or coffees with his dad here. The cleaning lady at nearby Citibank Tower told us many mums hang out here so the dad can spend a quick one with their kids, or else helpers bring the kids here to meet working mums… But then she launched into a comparison of Where Rockstar Measures Up Developmentally vs Other Kids Here (uh, not in Rockstar’s favor) and I quickly change the subject. But not before Rockstar got annoyed and wanted her to go away.

 

(Don’t try to feed the fish or birds though – the park wardens’ll stop you real quick – note the tiny figure in navy jacket with bold white stripes. Good thing is they’re quite quick to stop little kids climbing up the rocks near the pool too)

I used to hang out here and read… I love how there are all these glass and steel high-rises flanking the park… But this is the first time I see at least half a dozen screechy wild cockatoos flapping between the trees.

Nearby, power-suited professionals charge about, almost mingling with the mum with babies (and helpers) and strollers. Also, grandparents. I used to be one of the suits, now I’m one of the mums.

Not the same difference.

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Rockstarism #103

Posted on January 13, 2011 by admin

Me: (Holding up the King of Clubs – Rockstar has been badgering me to explain cards after discovering Solitaire on my iPhone)… And this is the King of – ?

Rockstar: Nonsense-Land

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