The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart. – Helen Keller

Sometimes I feel like the old mother.  I feel like the old mother because of the need to impart as much wisdom as possible to the children before they leave home ( which is still many light years from now).  I mean, Daniel, the oldest turns nine this year.   He will probably be home for another good ten years before going out on his own.

Anyway, because I felt like the old mother the other day I wanted to teach my children about having choices in life.  Many of us ( especially adults ) are not aware that we, as humans, have the highest capacity to make choices daily in our lives no matter what we tell ourselves.  

Often we say, “ I don’t have a choice.”  But we do. 

I picked an important topic to discuss with the boys; relationships. 

So, last night I started rambling like the old mother.  On three separate occasions the old mother gave the same exact scenario to each child. 

“Someday you will get married, right?” The old mother asked. 

Daniel said yes, and James doesn’t know.  Brian said that I am his girlfriend and he wants to marry me. 

“What if, your girlfriend is a pretty girl, but she always makes you cry?” The old mother continued.  “She doesn’t laugh at your jokes and doesn’t listen to you speak? What do you do?”

“What if you meet another girl who is not so pretty, but she always makes you laugh, and listens to you, and talks to you, and hears you sing?” the old mother said.

I am supposedly, to be the old mother who knows all the secrets of the universe.  Naturally, the old mother provided the boys with the ‘correct’ answer. 

“You need to say good bye to the pretty girl who is always making you cry,” the old mother replied.  “And even so, what if the other nice girl is not so pretty? She makes you laugh and listens to you sing.  That is the most important thing.  And you must listen to her too.  There are after all so many more other girls in the great big ocean besides the pretty girl.”

“We all will grow old one day.  And we won’t always look so pretty.” 

 “Do you understand what I am trying to say?” the old mother asked each of the boys in turn. 

Daniel and James said they understood but Brian ( who is only three years old) was already distracted with his pillow.  

The old mother felt like a great communicator who had successfully imparted a deep secret to the next generation.  The old mother felt her chest burst with great pride at the wisdom passed on to her sons ( except for Brian of course.)

Now came the litmus test.

“Now, who would you choose to marry?  The pretty girl or the not so pretty one?” I asked

“The pretty one,” Daniel replied.

“The pretty one,” James replied.

“The not so pretty one,” Brian replied.

It looks as if the old mother must try harder to get the message across.   

And the old mother learnt the greatest lesson of all; never pre-judge any of the children, especially Brian.  He seemed to have learnt the lesson better than his brothers.

Brian.  He is my three and a half year old toddler.  The moment he was born, he opened his eyes to take in everything around him.   There was a sense of excitement and adventure in this baby when I held him in my arms for the first time.  I inspected him carefully and counted his tiny fingers and toes over and over again.  I scarcely believed it.  In my arms lay a tiny miracle.

He was perfect and the prettiest amongst our three boys.

He has never spent the night away from me since the day of his birth.  This was the child I spent long afternoons with.  We always looked forward to the thrilling game of hide and seek every afternoon.  He would ask me where to hide first, and then tell me to close my eyes and count to ten.   I would count and promise not to peep.  When time was up, I could hear his muffled laughter under the bed covers. I pretend not to hear and search the other less obvious places.  The suspense too great for the little boy, he would fling the covers off and cry out ‘Surprise!’ while fixating the most enormous smile on his face.    

And then, we would play the game all over again with him hiding in the same place.  He never got tired of this game, and neither did I.  It was enough for me to see his smile. 

Most afternoons while our room bathed in a warm orange glow, you would hear amateur cronies in action. Our must sing list comprised of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and London Bridge.  Thereafter the songs that followed were very much depending on our moods. Some we made up along the way, others we affix our own lyrics to their original tune.  Occasionally you could hear a singular off pitch voice entertaining an audience of one followed by thunderous applause.

Other afternoons, I would randomly pick up a book to read aloud to him.  It could be a book about anything and everything.  He wasn’t fussy and didn’t seem to mind.  It could be a book written for children, like Dr Seuss or a pictorial book, like a picture dictionary or a serious magazine like the National Geographic.

Usually after an activity, we would have quiet moments together just before he settled down for a nap.  I enjoy nothing more than to lie down beside him, sniffing his hair and listening to his rhythmic breathing.  

And always, I would take this opportunity to tell him how much I love him. 

In turns I asked the following questions; Who is mummy’s favourite boy? Who is mummy’s cutie pie? Who is mummy’s handsome boy? Who is mummy’s laughing boy?  

In the beginning, he didn’t know what to answer.  To each question, I would reply on behalf of him; Brian. 

As he got used to me asking the questions, he would give me the correct answer without any hesitation.

Then, comfortable silence would envelope us like a snug blanket, and he would fall into deep slumber.

I love this boy for his enthusiasm and spontaneity.  As an adult who has seen too much of the cynical side of our world, I needed his positive energy to refresh my being.

I will always treasure those precious afternoons with this little one. 

Then it happened. For a few months last year, he saw my belly growing bigger and bigger.  One fine day mummy disappeared for a day and a night.  When she came back, she brought home a new baby with her.    

Suddenly our afternoon fiestas came to an abrupt end.  Brian and I no longer had the afternoons to ourselves.  I shifted my focus to the newborn who seemed to be needing my attention every moment of the day.

Change is never simple.  Brian was a sweet boy. Overnight he turned aggressive, using strong language his mother would never approve of.  He was constantly shouting at the top of his voice.    

I attributed these behavioral changes to the influence of his two elder brothers.

He adapted by tagging along more with Daniel and James.  He played the games that they played and fought the fights that they fought too.  Sometimes there was fair play, other times there was not. 

To my dismay he replaced our afternoons together by watching television.  He has a new friend on the block nowadays.  His name is Ben Tennyson.

These circumstances brought about many changes in Brian.  Nonetheless, one sure thing he has not lost is his sense of excitement and adventure.

Change was inevitable when the baby came along.  It seemed to me that Brian had adapted well albeit his acquired bad behaviour. 

One afternoon when baby Simon at two months of age was more settled, I had the chance to spend some precious personal noon time with Brian.  Just like the old times. 

We sang and we read but somehow for reasons unknown, we did not play hide and seek that day.   Perhaps he has grown a little and found the game to be no longer appealing.

I did not forget to ask my routine questions.

“Who is mummy’s favourite boy?” I asked. 

There was a moment of silence before he replied.  He seemed to be thinking really hard.

“Simon,” he said.   

His answer gave me a glimpse of his soul.  It revealed his deepest boyish thoughts.  Oh, how distressing it must be for a child to feel dethroned! 

Does he not know that he will always be mummy’s favourite?

“Brian,” I replied. “ Brian is mummy’s favourite boy.”

I now spend more time with him whenever I can.

By the way, he is still the prettiest amongst the four brothers.   

My spouse took a day off work and I took a day out of the house.  We decided to watch the highly acclaimed show Avatar on a weekday minus the children.  The truth was I had two free tickets that were going to expire soon.  That led to this day out.
 
Movie watching is a complicating affair these days.   I was thrown aback by the vast choices that were made available, ensuing from the fact that I haven’t been to a cinema for quite a while now.  Once upon a time, only regular class existed.  Now there is premiere, and gold class.  I have never watched at gold before, thus I will have to use my imagination to justify the services provided having been charged such an exorbitant sum.  After all, a gold ticket is able to pay for our water bill for three months.   

Perhaps I will be seated in a seat of gold, along with a tray of grapes freshly flown from Australia.   Thrown into this deal will be my very own butler at my beck and call, serving a bottle of wine of my choice.  But wait a minute, who would have time to eat anything while busy watching aliens and the sky people fighting, I thought.  What more in darkness, I reasoned further. The butler disappeared from the realm of my imagination. 

Perhaps I will be blasted with more speakers and highly sophisticated sound systems to make my experiences more real.  Or just maybe, I might be able to lie back flat on my back and watched a movie in comfort before falling asleep.  I had always wanted to do that.   In the end, I deduced it would be simpler to just ask those who have watched at gold.  It seemed a lot easier than firing up my imagination. 

Then, there are different fares for different categories; ladies’ day, students and senior citizens, shows screening before and after 6pm, public holidays etc.  To add to this array of choices, one can choose to watch 3D or 2D, and book a regular or twin seats. 

It took me a good 20 minutes to read and digest all of this information.  By the time I finished reading, I had forgotten why I was reading.  I told my spouse to get the job done.  Just redeem the tickets dear, I told him. 

He tried to redeem our tickets for the movie of our choice, Avatar but to no avail.  Our tickets were only valid at one cinema and that particular cinema was not screening Avatar 2D at premiere class for our date of choice.  Never mind if you didn’t get that.  It’s suffice to know that our tickets were useless in exchange for Avatar on the second of February. 

Anyway, we decided that we should watch Avatar even if we had to pay an arm and a leg for it.   Fortunately we didn’t have to.  We paid a discounted price for a weekday before noon movie, which is a fraction of our monthly water bill.  It’s good to know that we will still have water running through our taps in the next two months.

Let me just regress a bit here.  Before we left for the highly anticipated Avatar in the morning, I thawed enough frozen breast milk to last baby twelve hours. Daniel was at school, and simple arithmetic tells me that there would be three little boys left at home.  But when James and Brian come together to stage a protest against mummy going out, that would be an equivalent to a mob of terror. 

Amidst the chaos that morning, someone was quick witted enough to entice them upstairs with a bath in the tub.  As quick as lightning I bolted for the door and out of the gate.  There I stood waiting to be picked up.  And off we started our little adventure.

The atmosphere in the vehicle was relaxed.  We had begun the day on the right foot.  None of the boys bawled and cried when we left the house.  The sun was shining brightly.  It was going to be a great day.

I came to appreciate holding a conversation without the boys interrupting me every two minutes.  I talked to my heart’s contend that day.  I spoke of all topics and all issues, anything that came into my mind and heart.  I spoke of matters big and small, of possibilities and impossibilities, and of trivialities and importance.  I spoke of my joys and my sorrows, of my hopes and my disappointments.  It was as if someone had put me up in an oratory corner and it was my turn to speak.

I was unafraid to voice my thoughts, and didn’t have to worry about sounding idiotic.  I talked and finally, someone took the time to listen.  It felt wonderful that I didn’t have to compete with the boys or the TV to get my spouse’s full attention.  I am grateful that my spouse is a good listener.  He would actually let me finish my sentences.

If you would like to so something nice for your spouse today, here is a simple suggestion.  Be a good listener.  Don’t interrupt.  Just listen and nod your head.  Surely this will boost your relationship. 

Half way through our journey, I looked at my spouse and said, “This is great.  I can’t remember when we are in such close proximity.”  I looked across him from my passenger seat. Occasionally he talked and I listened.  But mostly, I spoke.  The best part was that he didn’t seem to mind.

We arrived in good time before the movie started.  We had plenty of time to buy junk food before proceeding inside.  And there, we were transported to another world.  The Avatar experience was made real to us with its clever computer graphics and blasting sound systems.  There was the dominating Sigourney Weaver with her signature cigarette in hand.  And of course, there were plenty of gore, blood and killings.  That and a hero plus a love story as well.   It looked as if James Cameron had every aspect wrapped up nicely in a hundred and sixty minutes.

By the time I walked out of that cinema, my over stimulated mind had convinced me that I would see an alien Na’vi strutting in the shopping complex.

I had a great time that day out with my spouse.  We were finally on a real date after a long while.  But for me, the magic of that day was not the movie Avatar.  The magic was weaved when we were deeply engaged in conversations with each other, and when  I was given the space to be totally myself in his presence that day.           

Thanks honey, for a great time! 

Cheers ! and good day to you.