Lessons from the playground

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Kyle loves going to the playground. Probably most kids his age do.

I used to like going to the playground with him…until lately.

The usual playground we went to was fine till he got spat on by another child. It's tough to be in that child's parent's shoes at that moment, but I was irate nonetheless when it happened to Kyle. I quickly cleaned Kyle up while I waited for the parent to prompt the child to apologise to Kyle or turn to me with an apology, but there was none forthcoming, except an exasperated look on the parent's face. The parent went on berating the child loudly, then the child took off into a distance while the exasperated parent went after her.

The child and parent were chinese nationals by the way. I am not one who will start ranting about our government's immigration policies but it still shocked me how some parents (regardless of their nationality) fail to take their child in hand and address the misbehaviour at that moment.

So I am always standing at the sidelines watching Kyle, sometimes barking instructions to him, making sure that he is safe and does not show aggressiveness and is polite to other kids. 

That experience did not turn him or me off visiting playgrounds in malls or hdb estates, but lately another experience at the playground in our estate make me feel quite nervous about bringing him to the playground.

It was our first time at our estate's playground.

He saw 2 older kids playing, a boy who was likely in 6 or 7 with his older sister who was 9 or 10, whose grandma just left them to play by themselves.. Being quite a sociable child, Kyle will normally approach other kids in the playground, say hi and introduce himself, then ask if they could play together. Everything seemed to be going well until they started playing tag around the playground. The boy and his sister, who were older and more agile easily dodge Kyle's clumsy attempts to tag them, climbed onto the playground structure and started chanting this in unison, taunting Kyle as he tried to chase them, "Little pig, little pig, you are so slow, you can't chase me."

Maybe I am being overly sensitive, but I cannot tolerate name-calling amongst children. I took offence at the word 'pig' that they used, not that I have to take kosher or halal food for religious reasons. I love my minced pork, xiao long paus, barbeque pork, tau yew bak and all. But I think that kids who are older really should not be calling a younger child names, mocking him just because he seemed slower or less agile than they are. 

Maybe it is just childish banter, but for me, it is pure lack of respect for individual differences and plain bad manners.

So what I did I do? I just kept quiet, watching nervously at the sidelines, as I realised that Kyle was oblivious to the name calling and was still having fun.

Until the play got disrupted by another 9 or 10 year old boy who came to join them at the playground and cajoled the younger boy to stop his play with Kyle and play with him. The younger boy said, "I am playing catching with him (referring to Kyle)." While the older boy's reply was, "But he is so small…" With that, the younger boy just ran off with the older one without saying a word to Kyle. While I spotted the  disappointment in my son's eyes.

It is heartbreaking to see him get disappointed or hurt but I need him to deal with situations like these. I will intervene if he looks like if he is going to be hurt by another child or if he is going to be physically aggressive, but otherwise I keep my butt glued to the bench.

I waited for him to walk back to me and and he stayed really quiet throughout. I only said this to him when we were walking away from the playground, "Some boys are like that. We need to tell our friends that we are going to stop playing and not just walk away without saying a word or even saying goodbye. It is not nice and not polite."

I told hb about the whole incident and his response was, "The boys who live in private estates are usually very bratty," that's coming from someone who spent his pre-teen and teen years growing up in a condo.

I am still hoping to spot that little boy that is about the same age as Kyle each time I sneak glances at the playground whenever we are downstairs. Maybe another day I will muster enough courage to bring him to the playground when he asks for it. Until then, we will be contented cycling or taking walks around the estate in the evenings.

I miss the playground at our old home, sometimes, we may encounter that errant kid who spits but at least we don't get kids like that. 

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Enduring

For the longest time that I can remember, I always found that showing affection does not come naturally to me. I can't say that this is an issue of nurturance, since my sister and I brought up by the same set of parents, and she is a very affectionate person (at least a lot more than I am). So maybe I may simply be “wired” to be the less affectionate sort.

I think God has a fabulous sense of humour and a great sense of irony. He paired me up with an affectionate hb, and we have a sticky and a very loving little boy. I think this is all in His plan for me to mould me into a more loving person.

The little boy is extremely generous with his random hugs and his "I love you mummy," Often clings onto my left arm during nights when he bunks in our bed and sleeps in between hb and I. One some snappy days, I will bark, "Don't cling on me tonight, sleep by yourself and leave me alone." And hb will gently remind me that I should not never turn Kyle's affections away in case of negative consequences. Needless to say, I end up with not too good quality of sleep whenever he bunks over.

Kyle makes it up the next morning by planting a kiss on my cheek before he crawls out of our bed. As for the other times, he will always ensure that there will be some light body contact when we sit together on the couch to watch TV, either his shoulder will be leaning on my arm or he will put his little chubby leg on my lap. He is extremely fond of stroking my hair when I carry him, despite me having to constantly remind him that he needs to stop touching my hair as it will start to feel quite creepy when he gets older.

As for how affectionate he is towards his dad? He has done this everytime when hb falls asleep in front of the tv in our bedroom. All without any one prompting him to do so. When he notices that hb is asleep, he quietly enters the room, turns off the tv for him, reaches out for the air con remote control and turns on the air con. Afterwards, he pulls his little blue chair below the light switch, turns off the lights in the room and closes the door behind him. Then he quietly comes to me to announce, "Daddy is sleeping."

I can't help but feeling all soppy when I think about how enduring Kyle can get. So I guess God's plan is working pretty well, motherhood can really change a person indeed.

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A permanent resident

We have found ourselves a new permanent resident…

In hb and my room that is.

Just when I just declared to someone who visited our house last month that Kyle sleeps alone in his room. Technically, it is not wrong cos he has been sleeping by himself since he was 2.5 years old and somehow discovered the joys of co-sleeping :(

The routine has been like this for the last 2-3 months;

1. I tuck him into bed after bedtime stories, bible devotion then a prayer

2. I lie down next to him on his bed and we chat for like 5-10 minutes, until I declare that he needs to sleep and stop talking or asking me questions

3. I announce that I will only be next to him for like 5 minutes, halfway through that 5 minutes he ask for extra 5 minutes. So we end up with more than 10 minutes. When 10 minutes ++ is up. I declare loudly that I am moving to sit on the floor next to him, for like 1 minute. Will then do a mental countdown of a 1 minute and then tell him time is up. He asks for one more last minute, I tell him this has to be the last '1 minute'…then I do another mental countdown. After the 1 minute is up and stand up, kiss him on the cheek then say goodnight, he then grudgingly answers me with a muffled goodnight with his head buried in his pillow.

On good nights, he sleeps when I leave the room. On not so good nights, he quietly opens the door, stands outside my study, and hides at the side of the door until I feel a set of eyes watching me from behind my back. On regular nights (at least for the last 2 months), he sleeps through for like 3-4 hours, leaves his bed and room, opens our door and climbs in hb and my bed. Some nights when I am too tired, I set aside space for him in our bed, on other nights when I feel less lethargic, I will walk him back to his room while berating him loudly in the wee hours of the morning.

Most days, he ends up crawling into our bed again when he hears the birds chirping…usually at daybreak.

I am certain most sleep experts have no problems picking up all the problems in this routine that we have. But I am feeling so tired of starting sleep training all over again that I think he will be getting away with this for now. Like how long can he go on wanting to sleep with us, by 7 or 8 years old? Oops…that's like another 4 more years to go…sigh…

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