It’s almost the end of the year again.  For this family unit, it is the time of the year to rejoice with many birthdays to celebrate.  It is also the time of the year bustling with activities with Christmas and the new year just round the corner.

I am acutely aware of the highly commercialised aspect of every year’s end festive season.  I flipped through the newspaper a while ago, hardly being able to read any important news without noticing the pages and pages of advertisements on year end sales and so called unbelievable bargains.  The massive onslaught of the media to get consumers to buy more than they will ever need for the festive season is just unending.

I have to admit I sometimes ride on this huge wave as well.  I seldom take my children to the mall except during the festive season to see the beautiful Christmas lights and decorations.  True to tradition, I took Daniel and James to the mall this afternoon.

When we arrived, I already knew that the place was overcrowded with shoppers because looking for a parking space deemed impossible.  We did finally park, albeit illegally.  Daniel, in his old man ways, was upset because we did not park in a proper parking space.   Sometimes, I feel that my son is incomprehensible.

My seven year old and I engaged in an argument.  He refused to budge from the car and I used my authority, which really amounted to almost nil,  to force him out.  I figured him being unhappy was better than me growing a beard looking for a proper parking space.

In between his fusses and complaints, we managed to reach the shopping mall.  It was obvious that we had started on a wrong note.   We left my mum to do her own shopping, and the children and I went the opposite direction.  I didn’t think it was very conducive to do serious shopping with children tagging along, so I had already made a mental note to enjoy time with them at the mall instead of running my errands.

As we rode the escalator up, the mall was suddenly a burst of activity, with bright lights and loud music.  There were Christmas decorations everywhere and their Christmas trees were as high as the ceiling.   The boys were excited to see these magnificent trees with beautiful ornaments and their decorative lights. 

It was an exhilarating experience for the three of us because visiting the mall is a rare treat and a special outing for the boys.  Even Daniel stopped complaining long enough to soak in the festivity mood.    

We had such a memorable afternoon.  We pretty much did what we did last year.  We indulged in our rich luscious creamy ice creams at our favourite ice cream parlour.  This is special for us because we do this only once every year during the yuletide season.  The boys ordered their all time favourite flavours, Daniel wanted his berry Strawberry and James, his plain chocolate.  They were not all tempted by the golden orange mango tango or the electric lemon zest.  This year though,  Daniel decided to be adventurous and opted for the cone instead of the cup.  And mummy, mummy couldn’t decide what to take!  She walked up and down the ice cream counter like a million times and still could not decide. 

“Shall I have the pecan or the chocolate mousse or the banana and chocolate,?” I asked Daniel.

“I’ll never get my Strawberry!” he complained, tugging my hand impatiently after waiting for what seemed like eternity. 

James, God bless him, was such a sweet boy, standing beside his mother quietly and waiting patiently for his cool treat.

The bill was ridiculously priced at an exorbitant amount.  However, for this rare once a year treat for the boys, I would not even bother lodging a complaint.  The moments we had with each other and our ice creams were priceless that day. 

My boys were like angels.  They were sitting perfectly still on their bottoms and not fidgety like always.  I could not believe this!  For once, I did nothing to sit them down properly at the table. 

“Mummy, I know what I want to be when I grow up,” said James.

“What?” I asked.

“I want to be an ice cream seller,” he replied.

“Really?” I said.

“How do these people do it?” Daniel asked.

“Do what?” I asked.

“How can they not want to eat all the ice cream here,” he said.

I smiled.  What can I say.  Daniel is a wizard at asking intelligent questions.  

After the great ice cream experience, we went walking looking for the ferris wheel but bumped into a shark.  It was a real life baby shark probably slightly longer than a 12 inch ruler. I had never seen a real shark before, and neither had the boys. We just stood there watching it, our gaze fixated on it swimming round and round the tank. 

“Remember Nemo?  This is Bruce,” I said.  The shark was a real swimmer, its body gliding effortlessly in the blue water.

“What does he eat?,” Daniel asked.  He and his wizard questions again.

“I don’t know, boy.  Fish probably,” I replied, my sight and mind still focused on this awesome killer species.

This moment was electrifying for me, being only inches away from this magnificent creation of God. 

“Can he eat me up?,” he continued asking.

“Not this one. I hope not.  It’s too small,” I said. 

All James said was, Wow!

After our shark adventure, we were on our ferris wheel hunt again.  Along the way, most stores advertised huge sales offers and were painstakingly beautifully decorated to entice customers.  It is hard not to be carried away by the lure of the sheer volume of consumer goods so easily available.

 “Come!”, the stores shouted, “come and get what you truly desire.  Happiness is getting what you really want now.”

I looked at my boys, and realized how hard it is being a child these days.  It is even harder for parents to instill the intrinsic values of love and respect and kindness in their children at this age and time.  We have to guide our children upstream against the streams of massive contradicting messages delivered by the media bombarding the young and old alike.  Their messages are basically the same.  It is good to have more,  and to have more now.  

Anyway, we not only managed to find the wheel but also enjoyed being entertained by a clown. 

Daniel must have enjoyed his performance very much because I had never seen my son laughed so hard before.  And James was  laughing along with his brother, pretending to understand the jokes.  He just wanted to be in the big boys’ club.            

After the clown act, they went for a ride on the ferris wheel.  I liked the rides this time.  We didn’t have to queue a long while and use our elbows to stay in line before the boys got their turn.  Both of them went on the ride together without giving me a backward glance. 

While waiting for them, I had some time of my own. I thought of how similar some things were last year and this, yet somewhat different.  My boys are growing up beautifully. 

This year Daniel gets to sing, All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth.  He recently went to the dentist to get his two  front teeth extracted.  He was such a brave little boy, shedding no tears and being so courageous when he really was very frightened. 

It was a good thing he could still enjoy his ice cream.

James needed me to feed him his ice cream last year.  This year, he ate the whole treat all by himself and didn’t smear his shirt.  He is a big boy now.   

The boys didn’t need me with them for rides nowadays.  They are more confident of themselves and their abilities to handle situations enough to exclude their mother.  Their smiling faces peered at me through their ferris coach, waving their tiny fingers at me from above the sky.  I waved back.

They have acquired some form of independence along the way this year.  Oh, how fast they are growing up! 

We were in high spirits when we left the mall.  We had a good dinner, and the boys were not cranky at the end of the day.

We were, however, caught in a traffic jam on our way home.  Even the prolonged journey home didn’t dampen our spirits. 

My boys and their mother came home with great memories and a tummy filled with ice cream. 

Somewhere next week, I will have to join the mad crowd of shoppers to buy my Christmas gifts minus the boys.   

This is after all, the season of giving.

Here is wishing you, my readers, a  good weekend!  Cheers!

PS  I finally chose a chocolate expresso flavoured ice cream and enjoyed it very much indeed!      

For twelve months we have been passing by the construction site of a school building daily.  And for the last twelve months of every day we have been telling Daniel that he will one day attend this school when it opens its doors to students. 

In my mind, there was no doubt we will be able to bring him back to study closer to home.  The school is only seven minutes from our house. 

Right on schedule, this school is now complete and ready to be occupied next year.  I went to his current school to hand in all the necessary documents for transfer.  Then, I went with another friend to submit the completed transfer forms to the education department.  I personally handed both our forms to the office on duty to be processed.

The results for the transfer requests were released on time as informed.  It was a simple, straightforward procedure.  However, my child’s request for a transfer was rejected.  He is required to report back to his current school next year. 

I looked at the form in dismay.  My friend’s daughter got the transfer but not Daniel.  This is ironic as both of us had handed in our forms at the same time.  

I went to appeal, seeking out the officer in charge personally.  He listened patiently but was unyielding.  His decision was final.  It was pointless talking to him. 

I went home feeling very dejected.  Out of the 330 applications received, 26 were turned down.  I held the form in my hand and thought of Daniel.  I felt that I had let him down.  I had done everything right on schedule and yet, did not get the desired results. 

We had built up his expectations to attend this new school next year and now, it will not happen.  

My mum asked, “What will you tell him?”

“The truth,” I replied.  “I will tell him that there is no more place.”  

As his mother, I had always wanted to protect him from life’s disappointments and rejections.  After this incident, I figured I cannot protect my children all the time from life’s ups and downs.  The only gifts I can surely and constantly provide them with are my love and encouragement.        
 
Daniel, I had done my best but my best was not good enough.  Even when we carefully execute our meticulously laid out plans, sometimes life springs us unexpected surprises.

And you know what, son? It is not the end of the world.  We need to learn to move on and to make the best of our circumstances.  

Cheers to you, my friends.  Have a good day today!

James is five today.  He is our in between child, after Daniel and before Brian.  Apart from being born in between, there is nothing in between about this boy. 

He is the skinniest among the brothers.  But don’t be deceived.  He can run the fastest, pumping his legs vigorously across the field leaving his brothers behind.

He is the loudest.  I can hear him already before I see him at the gate after an evening at the playground.  When he talks, everyone listens simply because no one can out-talk his booming voice.  For a child who is the second smallest in his class, his voice is astonishingly forceful.

At first glance, James is your average plain looking five year old.  If you spend enough time with him, you will appreciate this little boy crooning you with his golden voice.  Sometimes we would play at our neighbour’s house in the afternoons.  One evening, while pushing along a musical train, he hummed along to the tune of Old Mcdonald in his toddler sing song voice. 

“James is singing.  He can even sing to the tune of the train,” my neighbour who was seated nearby commented.

It is not difficult to notice this little boy and his love for music even in the briefest moments together with him.  At the tender age of two, he already loves singing and does it in perfect tones and rhythm. 

He is a keen observer of our wonderful world.  He asks many questions I have stopped asking as an adult.  

“Why are car wheels round?”

“Look, when I throw the ball up it will come back down again.”

“Why is my plate round like a steering wheel?”

“Why does one needle move faster than the other on a clock?”

“Why do we use our eyes to see?”

“Why do we have to put one foot in front of the other when we walk?”

“Why does everyone have two hands?”

“Why must food go down our throat?”

I am in awe again with the creation of my physical body and its perfectly synchronized functions. I breathe now with a new sense of awareness, deliberately feeling my lungs with air simply for the pure joy of just being alive.  It was as if a light just came on.  Yes, it is good to be alive, to be human.  My connection with nature is renewed daily when this child is constantly asking simple, profound questions I have taken for granted a long time ago.        

He loves peanuts, and Chinese noodles.  He detests bread and the sight of it.   Like most children, he enjoys ice creams very much, lollipops and French fries.  He is a doll, always willing to share his foods with his brothers.  He loves looking at trains, and loves playing with them more.  Unlike his mother, he prefers outdoor activities, be it just a car ride or tagging along with his papa to run an errand.       

James enjoys many activities.  He enjoys listening to Abba, especially Super Trouper, on his father’s hi fi system.  He loves hanging on to our window grills like a wild monkey.  He loves taking risks.  It is a thrill for him to jump from my dressing table onto our bed.  He loves running fast and landing upside down on his head on our sofa set.  I hold my breath every time he does this. 

Most of all, he likes all things fast.   Purposefully, he pushes back his legs with great force when on his tricycle, propelling the vehicle to move forward at a neck breaking speed until it crashes into the gate.  Then he does it again and again.  I watched and shake my head and asked myself, what is the  thrill of doing this.  I don’t know.  Boys.  To date, my gate is still upright and intact.  And if it ever falls apart, you will be the first to hear of this. 

Men like cars, and so do boys as I have discovered now that I am raising three boys of my own.  James loves to observe our car speedometer when his father drives. 

I would like to think that his motto is “The faster, the better.”  He not only observes, but also encourages his father to go faster on our highways.  He is thrilled to see the red needle reached one hundred and twenty. 

The day his father took off his training wheels, James learnt to  balance his bicycle in minutes and then, rode it to the park.  The following day, he rode his bicycle to the park, found some neighbourhood children to play with and shortly later, was on his bike again racing with them.  He went as fast as the wind with pure joy running through his veins.

I spoke to my spouse and told him about James and his dangerous love for speed.  My spouse laughed.  I didn’t think it was very funny. Secretly, I made a pact with myself.  I had already decided that this child will not be given a car until he turns thirty. 

James loves playing with other children and mingles easily with them.  He likes girls especially according to his class teacher.  Possibly because there aren’t any to play with at home, I told her.    He enjoys monster stories, volcano tales and their imaginary hot liquid lava spurting out from the centre of the earth. He is  interested in creating drawings with crayons, and drawing volcanoes eruptions.  He is afraid of scary ghosts but enjoys being told friendly ghosts stories. 

He is like a jumping bean, always in motion except for the times when he is asleep or reading a favourite book or drawing his volcano eruption pictures.  His little head is full of tricks.  Once, we went out with friends for lunch, and he decided that it was totally decent to pull up my friend’s skirt for a better view inside.  I was flabbergasted and totally embarrassed by his lack of manners.

James is quick tempered and full of emotions.  I believe that he is sometimes so overwhelmed by his own rage and anger that he hardly knows how to control these feelings when they surfaced, and this terrifies him as well.  He screams and cries loudly to exhibit his unhappiness and in the process, attracts unnecessary attention.  Every time he does this, I’ve always felt a need to explain to the adult next to me that this child is certainly not being abused and I am the victim here.   Here is a child who teaches me patience and self discipline daily.   

He enjoys imitating his favourite cartoon character, Bunny from the Dibo cartoon.  His current favourite phrase is “Then I don’t care!”. He provides creative answers for some of the most uninteresting activities.  He went to an entertainment theme park yesterday, and I asked him, “How long was the line before you got a chance to sit on the roller coaster?”  

“Very long.  Longer than a python snake,” he replied.

When he goes to the park, sometimes he is a pirate and he goes treasure hunting.

“Why don’t you go treasure hunting today, James?  Brian is your co captain,” I told him

“Yes. Now we will go looking for treasure at Whop-pee-doop Island,” he replied as he climbed on the monkey frame.

James is an amazing child with his trusting nature and inquisitiveness.  Five years of every day has been an adventure of discovery of each other and with one self.   The time will come when he will start school and we will have less time for  each other.  Until then, let us be happy just by being with each other son.  I never tire of your python stories.  And your singing always lifts up my spirits.

Happy Birthday James!  I love you always.