BRAZIL:  The Clown, Ice Cream Cakes and Emotional Trauma – Part II

BRAZIL: The Clown, Ice Cream Cakes and Emotional Trauma – Part II

This is the second post of a two-part series. To read part I of this post, please click here

clown cakeIt was my fourth birthday party. Since we were moving to Brazil soon, it was also a farewell party, and a big one. It was the only big birthday party I have had in my entire life. I remember it was held at some sort of club, there were a lot of people and a hired caterer (something almost unthinkable for my mother!) And then there was the clown. And he wanted to paint my face.

I was completely and irrationally terrified as only a four-year-old can be. While most of the other children were loving it all, I wanted nothing to do with the clown and his face paint (and certainly not on my face!). My party was ruined. In fact, I hid in the kitchen the entire time.

I don’t know exactly who stayed with me in the kitchen, but I don’t think it was either of my parents – at least not all of the time. Of course they were probably running around organizing things and tending to the guests. What really comforted me at that moment was the food, more specifically the dozens of intricately decorated mini-ice cream cakes. I recall later telling someone that the good side of the party was that I had stayed close to the food the entire time.

Although I hadn’t thought of it in a while, this story is not something that had been forgotten or hidden in my mind, as it has been told and retold over the years by my mother. The interesting detail that came up now was that of the ice cream cakes. When I remembered the ice cream cakes I felt like I could eat a ceiling-high pile. I felt like I had been looking for them my entire life. It was such a visceral craving it felt like nothing else could fill up my void except for those ice cream cakes. Right now writing this I want those ice cream cakes so badly it almost hurts.

It is interesting because here in Brazil ice cream cakes are rare – I believe I have only seen them for sale once in the more than 30 years I have lived here. I don’t know why this particular detail only came up so strongly now, nor what has been triggering this strong need for comfort and protection, which originally was a need to be shielded from someone scary (the clown) who wanted to do something I did not want to do (paint my face).

I don’t know if this is related, but it is also funny because I was never a big fan of makeup. Also, once when I was six and went through a brief period of interest for makeup, I got a kit of child makeup and ate several of the flavored lipsticks that came with it!

Perhaps this story will bring about significant change in my relationship with food, perhaps not, but it does bring up several issues related to my relationship with my own children.

For instance, it has reminded me that no matter how I try, it is impossible to protect them from every traumatic incident or foresee the lasting effect of seemingly small events on their lives. On the other hand, it is also a strong reminder not to belittle the things that upset them – what might seem insignificant or minor to me may be a huge deal to them and I must give them the best emotional support we can at all times.

Please share your stories about your relationship with food. Do you interfere in your children’s relationship with food? Do you actively foster a healthy relationship with food in your home?

This is the continuation of an original post to World Moms Blog published by our writer in Brazil and mother of three, EcoZiva. You can read Part I here.

The image in this post is credited to Chris Martin. It holds a Flickr Creative Commons attribution license.

Ecoziva (Brazil)

Eco, from the greek oikos means home; Ziva has many meanings and roots, including Hebrew (brilliance, light), Slovenian (goddess of life) and Sanskrit (blessing). In Brazil, where EcoZiva has lived for most of her life, giving birth is often termed “giving the light”; thus, she thought, a mother is “home to light” during the nine months of pregnancy, and so the penname EcoZiva came to be for World Moms Blog. Born in the USA in a multi-ethnic extended family, EcoZiva is married and the mother of two boys (aged 12 and three) and a five-year-old girl and a three yearboy. She is trained as a biologist and presently an university researcher/professor, but also a volunteer at the local environmental movement.

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SINGAPORE: When Parents Break the Rules

SINGAPORE: When Parents Break the Rules

quarrelAmong all the parenting rules in the book, no quarreling in front of the kids must rank pretty high up there. But, it’s the one that my husband and I have been flouting a lot lately, when our little five-year-old is around. And while we don’t choose to quarrel in full view of Sophie, arguments sometimes get over heated with voices raised and a quarrel ensnares. And when our voices rise, Sophie catches our bickering.

As much as we try to avoid conflict in our marriage, this is real life, where we have our failings keeping our tempers in check. As they say, familiarity breeds contempt.

I’m not proud that my daughter has to witness it, especially since she has a sensitive soul and picks up on the negative vibes quickly. And it’s even worse, when she thinks that mummy and daddy don’t love each other anymore because of our quarreling. 

Last week, hubby and I had a heated arrangement over my complete lack of organizational abilities, which sent me flying into a rage because I was already halfway through packing. With more to and fro with his expectations and my explanations, neither was ready to step back or cool off. Before we knew it, there was a shouting match.

Sophie heard the commotion and came to my room and from the corner of my eye I could see her fear.

Intermittently, my little one even jumped to my defense and told daddy to stop scolding me because I was already trying my best to pack. Her words, though comforting, also felt like a sting and made me feel so guilty that she had to see the two people that she loved most in such an ugly argument. After I calmed down, hubby finally decided to help me pack as well and we both got working.

After 15 minutes little Sophie came back with a smile on her face and said:

See mummy and daddy you’re working together. You are a team now.

Those are words of gold coming from my five-year-old.

After we were done packing, we gave each other hi-fives for work well done. I even apologized  for my lousy attitude to hubby and thanked him for helping, making sure that it was within Sophie’s ear-shot. I could see her beaming away.

As a mum, I sometimes forget that kids learn what they see and not what they hear. As much as we try to teach them to behave in a certain way, it’s what we model that will be a standard for them.  And while quarreling in front of the kids is still a no no in my opinion, children learn that parents are also human. Parents can make mistakes but what matters is having the humility to apologize and ask for forgiveness.

At the end of the day, we are far from being perfect and can only endeavor to be better dads or mums for our kids.

This is an original post for World Moms Blog from our writer in Singapore, Susan Koh of A Juggling Mom.

The image used in this post is credited to Matt Smith and holds a Flickr Creative Commons attribution license.

Susan Koh

Susan is from Singapore. As a full-time working mom, she's still learning to perfect the art of juggling between career and family while leading a happy and fulfilled life. She can't get by a day without coffee and swears she's no bimbo even though she likes pink and Hello Kitty. She's loves to travel and blogs passionately about parenting, marriage and relationship and leading a healthy life at A Juggling Mom.

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SINGAPORE: A New Season

SINGAPORE: A New Season

choresMore than a month ago, our home was always clean and tidy. There were also nice home-cooked meals (complete with soup) every evening for my family.

Fast forward to today: dust is gathering around the house while home-cooked meals have been reduced to no more than two dishes at any one time. Soup? It would be a bonus to have that once a week.

You see, our live-in helper left us…without notice…after going back to her home town, supposedly, for a two-week break.

She didn’t come back. Didn’t send notice. Didn’t even call. I later learned from friends that this is not uncommon.

At first I was angry. Not only had we wasted money on her return ticket, she also left me stranded without a back up plan.

But as the days go by, a rhythm is slowly but surely developing. I’m beginning to experience the blessings her departure brings.

  1. Gone are my leisurely breakfasts, escapades to the library and social media time. But I now have greater focus on what I do.
  2. House chores and cooking are challenges for me but I am slowly getting the hang of things.
  3. While there are no set days as to when chores get done, since my work takes focus in the early part of the week, I am trying to tackle the bulk of cleaning mid-week. Strangely I sometimes find cleaning rather therapeutic.
  4. When it comes to cooking, I am learning to exercise creativity. One dish meals are great: simple to cook but nutritious and tasty enough for most fussy taste buds.
  5. When the laundry is done, he helps remove the clothes from the washing machine, grabs the pegs and passes them to me “as a set” – to quote his exact words. I wonder when he might get bored and stop helping me so I am cherishing every moment.
  6. Might I add that my husband has also chipped in to do his part now!

I am not sure if I will cave in and get another helper again. At the moment, I am busy but happy. I appreciate the quietness  (when my son is at school) and extra space I now have, and I meant that quite literally. The best part is I get my spare room back! That is something I have been wishing for and for which I can’t be more thankful.

I know that for many moms living in other parts of the world, having live-in help is rare.   Some may have cleaners come a few times a month but many families manage the bulk of cleaning and household chores alone. Here in Asia, having live-in help is common.

All of this made me really admire fellow moms who have to take care of the whole household and a few kids, not to mention those who are working from home. You are amazing. How do you do it?

Really, I mean it. How do you handle your house chores? Please share some tips! Hopefully some day, I might become an amazing mom like you, who seem to be able to do it all.

This is an original post for World Moms Blog  from our blogger and live-in-help-less mother of one, Ruth Wong in Singapore.

The image used in this post is credited to clogozm. It holds a Flickr Creative Commons attribution license.

Ruth

Ruth lives in Singapore, a tiny island 137 kilometres north of the equator. After graduating from university, she worked as a medical social worker for a few years before making a switch to HR and worked in various industries such as retail, banking and manufacturing. In spite of the invaluable skills and experiences she had gained during those years, she never felt truly happy or satisfied. It was only when she embarked on a journey to rediscover her strengths and passion that this part of her life was transformed. Today, Ruth is living her dreams as a writer. Ironically, she loves what she does so much that at one point, she even thought that becoming a mom would hinder her career. Thanks to her husband’s gentle persuasions, she now realises what joy she would have missed out had she not changed her mind. She is now a happy WAHM. Ruth launched MomME Circle, a resource site to support and inspire moms to create a life and business they love. She has a personal blog Mommy Café where she writes about her son's growing up and shares her interests such as food and photography.

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SINGAPORE: Less Stress, More Joy

SINGAPORE: Less Stress, More Joy

JoyAs a mum, some days I need a reminder to have more joy in my life. Because if I were to describe how I feel these days, it’s exhausted, tired, cranky, stressed up with my tank running low on joy.

Sure motherhood is a joy. But there are days when it can be so tiring and testing that its sucks the life out of me. It doesn’t help that my four-year-old is somehow just like me, stubborn and obstinate so when I go tough on her, it does nothing but make her comply.

Just last night, I had to raise my voice when my little one still refused to sleep at 11pm. No wonder no amount of miracle eye cream is working at erasing my panda eyes.

The truth about Motherhood is that it’s a relentless giving of self.

Without starting a working mum versus stay at home mum war, we all have untold stories of how it can be a struggle to juggle work, home, marriage and the kids. And like what I tell many people, work simply never ends. After 9 hours of work at the office,  I clock in another good 4-5 hours of work doing the cooking, washing, playing, teaching, reading, mothering in general. And while there can be sweet moments, such as when my daughter shows me a picture she’s drawn for me or tells me stories about what happened in school. There is also the nagging because she simply don’t care for bedtime or the mess she creates after playing, painting, and, yes, when she refuses to sleep …

Yes, that’s motherhood, and it probably will be like that for a good 5, 10 or 20 years of life …

But I know that this is not just the story of my life. It is the same story for most mums, regardless, if you have one child or three! Many, like me, are probably dealing with bedtime woes, battles, sibling rivalry and don’t even get me started about the dishes and laundry that are threatening to topple.

I know I’m not alone. You are not alone, too. Even on days when it feels like you’re dragging your feet to get around from being so sleep deprived and when the kids are banging on the toilet door and all you want to do is hide inside.

You. are. not. alone.

So here’s a reminder

  • Take deep breaths
  • Catch cat naps
  • Ask for help
  • Do something you enjoy
  • Have less stress and more joy by focusing on the long-term

I know it’s hard, that’s why most of us get so caught up in the day to day madness. But after hearing stories from those with grown up children, I think there is a silver lining…

As for sleep. Who needs it anyway…

Okay, I take it back, I need my coffee now!

How do you deal with the stress of motherhood? What are your tips to stay joyful?

This is an original post by Susan Koh for World Moms Blog. She’s loves to travel and blogs passionately about parenting, marriage and relationship and leading a healthy life at www.ajugglingmom.com.

Photo credit to the author.

Susan Koh

Susan is from Singapore. As a full-time working mom, she's still learning to perfect the art of juggling between career and family while leading a happy and fulfilled life. She can't get by a day without coffee and swears she's no bimbo even though she likes pink and Hello Kitty. She's loves to travel and blogs passionately about parenting, marriage and relationship and leading a healthy life at A Juggling Mom.

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Democratic Republic of Congo: All The Things That Never Happened

Democratic Republic of Congo: All The Things That Never Happened

That's a termite mound, not a rock!

That’s a termite mound, not a rock!

I’ve reached a time in my life when it’s easy to be anxious about so many things. I think that most mothers of small children, whether living abroad or not, are often plagued by the anxiety bug.

For the last six years, my family and I have lived in Congo and we’re moving away in just a few weeks. I find myself thinking back to all those worries, big and small, that I had about raising two kids in the proverbial “heart of darkness.”

So as an exercise of gratitude and reassurance before we begin our next African adventure, I’ve been reflecting on all the what-ifs –real and imagined – that never came true.

Those mosquito bites never led to malaria.

There were no broken bones, stitches or other ailments that couldn’t have otherwise struck us in the United States.

Getting stopped by the police was never more than a hassle and a good story.

Our girls made it to and from school every day without incident.

We never ran out of quality disposable diapers, Sensodyne toothpaste, or anything else we hoarded from home.

My shoes held up.

Every fever went away without too much suffering.

Nothing was ever stolen (that we noticed).

No one was bitten by a snake or spider and a few worms in the feet were no big deal.

The termites never swarmed and carried our children away.

The vehicles always returned to their respective lanes before a head-on collision.

No one was lost in an angry mob.

We never got sick from all that “questionable” food.

That crazy Congo lightning never came through our window and zapped me in my bed.

Both of my pregnancies were picture perfect.

The electricity always came back on.

The water always returned.

The internet was always repaired.

The planes did not crash.

We made friends. Good, lifelong friends.

And no one is worse for the wear.

As infinitely grateful as we are for all these things that never happened, we’re even more so for everything that did. We had two beautiful children, our family learned a new language and we reached far out of our comfort zone. We will forever be connected to the culture and people we grew to love in Congo.

I hope that the next time everyday stressors take over, I’ll be able to stop and think about this list and remember more often than not everything is alright in the end.

What things have you worried about that never ended up happening?

 

This is an original post written for World Moms Blog by Sarah Sensamaust.  You can find Sarah blogging with Jill Humphrey at Mama Congo.

Photo credits to the author.

Belgium: Bleak Reflections

Belgium: Bleak Reflections

BleakEven before I became a mother, I had a particular wish for my future children. Looking back at several not so fond memories of my childhood, I vowed I would do everything for them to have a better one. They shouldn’t have to grow up too fast. They would not have to feel unwanted, misunderstood or worthless. I would guard their innocence and happiness like a hawk.

The major driving force behind the different attempts of therapy I tried throughout the years, was the well-being of my (future) kids. I wouldn’t allow mistakes in motherhood.

In fact, I didn’t want them to become like me at all. Just like the mother who really tries hard not to show her child how much she is freaked out by spiders, in order not to raise a little arachnophobic like herself. My list of not-to-pass-ons was just longer: low self esteem, perfectionism, fear of failure, social clumsiness, easy overstimulation and of course CFD: ‘continuously fretting disorder’.

The first five years of motherhood, I had the impression I could accomplish all this. I actually felt like the perfect mother: patient, involved, crafty, warm. I even managed to stick to my not-to-pass-on-list.  It would cost me quite some effort, but I would not interfere when my son was building a crooked tower, so he could not catch my perfectionism. Trying not to pass on perfectionism while desperately trying to be a perfect mother.  It may sound absurd now, but back then, it totally made sense.

Three years ago, my perfect balance in motherhood shifted drastically.  When our son turned five, we couldn’t ignore anymore that he was going to develop at a speed different from his peers. At the same time, our adopted daughter arrived, aged two and a half.

They both forced me to face my demons better than any therapy has ever done throughout the years.

My son and I, we discovered developing an intelligence and sensitivity far beyond our physical age, is a struggle we share. Where his friends will watch a grazing cow on a field trip and complain about the stench, he will likely try to understand why this mammal has four stomachs, how to measure the circumference of the pasture and how long it would take for the cow to eat all that grass. And how much dung it would have produced by then, of course. His sense of humour is still a seven year old’s.

My daughter and I, we’ve been battling childhood trauma and attachment disorder together. We cried together in the shower numerous times, holding each other fiercely. The battle has been rough. It still is. Sometimes I just can’t comfort her like I should, because I need comforting myself.  But she amazes me with a resilience I just can’t manage. She might be  jumping on the trampoline and singing imaginary happy-songs, while I crash on the couch to mentally recover from holding her mourning and kicking little body for over half an hour.

It has been extremely painful to see my least fond childhood memories revive in my kids.

Comforting a son that feels like an alien, desperately trying to cover up his super powers because he just wants to blend in. Reassuring a daughter that follows me around the house like a puppy because she just can’t believe she won’t be abandoned again.

Painful. Heart wrenching. And feeding the CFD by the tons.

However,  I’m seeing now that our struggles do not necessarily have to be the same. Because, you know, they have me. Of course I can’t protect them from being hurt. No mother can do that for her children. It’s one of the curses of being  a mother.

But as it turns out, as a ‘damaged’ mother, I might be the perfect guide for my heavy-hearted children.

I’m teaching my son first handed how to make use of his extraterrestrial powers, without a need to blend in. I’m even coaching him in failing and making mistakes without believe it’s the end of the world. I surely acknowledge how important that lesson is. He’ll get it much earlier than I did.

I’m confidently ignoring outsiders’ advice on how to deal with my daughter’s anxieties, since I recognize how she feels. When she’s grieving, I guard her like an eagle that will not allow anyone to question or mock her tears of grief. I’m determined to give her what I never got. I will make her feel loved and understood. Unconditionally.

Me, I’ve only discovered how to find happiness after a painful and lonely journey.

I intend to show my children all the short cuts.

They will have a splendid childhood.

How do you see your own childhood reflected in your children? Is it mostly warm or can it be painful as well?

This is an original post to World Moms Blog by K10K from The Penguin and The Panther.

The picture in this post is credited to the author.

Katinka

If you ask her about her daytime job, Katinka will tell you all about the challenge of studying the fate of radioactive substances in the deep subsurface. Her most demanding and rewarding job however is raising four kids together with five other parents, each with their own quirks, wishes and (dis)abilities. As parenting and especially co-parenting involves a lot of letting go, she finds herself singing the theme song to Frozen over and over again, even when the kids are not even there...

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