They are Normal...

I was at Eastpoint yesterday running errands when I felt hungry. I decided to grab a bite at Banquet. It was around 4, and the place was relatively quiet; in fact, more quiet than usual. Yet there was a long queue at the chicken rice stall.  As I walked past, I began to understand the reason for the obvious 'silence'.

If one was in a hurry, and oblivious to the surroundings, the teenagers who stood in line would have passed off as ordinary secondary school kids.  They were clothed in their school uniform, and perhaps, no one would bother to give a cursory glance at the name of the school they bore.  But because of the 'looks' people were giving them; and the sideway glances, I took notice.

I recognised the name of the school - it was a place where students with special needs go to.  It takes in children who are severely autistic, and those who suffer from down syndrome. It became clear by the faces of some of these kids there that they look 'different'.

But as I sat there, a sense of deep respect and admiration grew.  They were so 'different' than some of the other teens who were there.  Maybe they realise that eyes were on them.  People were openly staring. These teens did not draw attention over any disorderly manner...in fact, they were the most well-mannered children.

Their 'disabilities' made them awkward and perhaps a little clumsy.  But they did not rush nor made a nuisance of themselves in public.  Under the teachers' watchful eyes, they helped each other with the heavy trays of food.  They ensured that everyone had their food first before proceeding to tuck in.  They passed out tissues, and politely told the ones who had shaky hands to be mindful and not dirty the tables.

There were conversations going on, but at a level which they did not need to scream nor yell. Some broke into a mini 'dance' upon hearing the upbeat music being played, but again, it was low-key fun.

Whoever says that these are not 'normal' children...think again.
They were definitely courageous, civic-minded , and everything you want some of the normal vulgarities-spewing, loud teens today to be.

Bravo...
You can hold your own in society.

The Sad Truth

I am no longer required to attend the main meetings...after I stepped down, there are times when I am glad that I am no more a part of the 'inner circle'.  There are certain things that I have been uncomfortable with., and am glad that I no longer have to do it.

But I never thought that the one source of discomfort could come to haunt me so quickly.
This year, I have been plagued by ill health, and of course, with Zarifah's condition, I have missed a number of days in school...So I know my name would appear on the 'blacklisted' list...

They reminded me oh-so-subtly that if this continues...my 'ranking' will be affected.
It means...I will 'pay heavily' for being absent from work....at worst...no bonus.

22 years....means nothing.
I realise that there is no such thing as loyalty anymore.
Sad...sad...sad...

Ties that Bind...

I think that this is one of the hardest entries that I have written...
In a sense, I have been meaning to write this for so long; and yet have kept it in my draft box; revision after revision. I am not quite sure of the purpose of writing this...or who my targeted audience is.
But today, I start off with the determination that I shall end this piece.

In less that two weeks, I'll be sending Zafran off for national service.  I am not quite sure how I would really react on that day. I'm psyched up to go to Tekong...so far, it seems like it will be just as if he was going away to some school camp or other.  I do not think that there will be tears on my part...after all, I will still get to stay in touch with him via sms, and God willing (Insyaallah), he will be home after his basic 3 weeks of confinement...and after 9 weeks, the army will make a man out of my son.

Where did all that time go?
It seems like yesterday, I was cuddling a chubby little baby in my arms. He was always earnest as a child, and rarely did anything that made me angry with him for long.  I remember for quite a while he was upset for not being taller than me...and when he shot up but at least a head, I am glad he did not resort to lording over me.

A mother is not supposed to play favourites - I mean how can I ever say that I love each of my kids differently?
Zarifah is special - cos she is my only girl...and Akmal is special too, since he is my baby. Zaf...well, I know that my husband would say that this is the child who can do no wrong.(so not true!)...He is my eldest...and the one who understands me best I feel.

There is no best way to describe my relationship with my kids...I have been very blessed indeed...
Maybe some people assume that the moment a woman has children, she automatically becomes close to them.  Maternal love alone is never enough to cultivate lasting relationships.  I understand that a mother may always want what is best for the child...but must know the difference between what is best may not be what is right.

Over the years, I worked hard to cultivate a loving, trusting relationship with the kids...especially since I spend so much time with other people's children. I learn what works, and what doesn't...and at the back of my mind, the whole purpose of raising children is carrying out Allah's 'amanah'. I had both good times and bad, made wise and foolish decisions along the way, and in the process, learn to accept the kids for you they are...and hopefully pray, that they will turn out to be ok people.

Allah gave me special challenges, and interesting times...
I have wiped their tears, cleaned their mess, and celebrated their successes.
I know what has been like to worry when they fall ill, and worry when they are not doing well. I've shared their little secrets...and do wonder if I will get to share more in future.

These past 4 months, by God's grace, I have had the chance to spend time with my oldest 'baby'...and reconnect with him.  I got the chance to play 'mama', and renew the ties...for he has really grown up in the years he spent in JC...I got the opportunity to understand how he relates to people, and how those around respond to him.  I am gratified when people compliment me for having raise 'a good son'.

Praise to God. (Alhamdulillah)
Zafran is very much his own person...and hopefully, with the values grounded in him...he will continue to grow from strength to strength.  So as he embarks on the next chapter of his life in the army, it is only right that I let him go with my prayers and blessings.  May he always stay grounded and strong in character; and find the courage to face all his challenges resolutely....and dear God, keep him safe and sound.

Ameen.

A Poem to Share

I love this thought-provoking poem extracted from Kahlil Gibran's 'The Prophet'

Your children are not your children.
Thy are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you, but not from you,
And though they are with you, they belong not to you.

You may give them your love, but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies, but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams,
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bow from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bend you with His might that His arrow may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer;s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

I feel that these are among some of the finest advice there is about being parents.
Yes, as a parent, I am full of expectations - that my children will make my dreams come true.
But I do know that it is not possible; nor fair...for them to be living my hopes and dreams.

I hope that I have learnt to accept that each and every child is different...with their strengths and flaws. I appreciate their individuality; and even embraces their differences with mine. They are my blessings; and God's gift to me.

Chase your own dreams, kids...
I am blessed...that you are....you.

I am King - ruling over my own life!

Here is a little story extracted from one of Maxwell's books - "Leadership Gold".

Frederick the Great of Prussia was walking along the outskirts of Berlin when he encountered a very old man walking ramroad straight in the opposite direction.  He was slightly miffed when he old man merely nodded in recognition of his authority.
"Who are you?" Federick demanded.
"I am a king, sire," replied the old man almost regally.
"A king?" laughed Federick, thinking that this was a senile subject. "Over what kingdom do you reign?"
"Over myself, sir. Always over me, " was the proud reply before he smartly walked off.

Whether the old man is senile or not, I supposed that we need a reminder that we can be, or in fact , are, the 'monarchs' of our own lives.  ...It is not about real power or how much money or property that we have.
One can be 'king' simply by taking charge and control over our actions and impulses.

We are the ones who are responsible for ruling what we do, feel and think. 
"We need to consistently make good decisions, to take the right action when needed, and to refrain from the wrong actions requires character and self-discipline. To do otherwise is to lose control of ourselves - to do or say things we regret, to miss opportunities we are given, to spend ourselves into debt."

Once again, it boils down to attitude.
Attitude which shapes our character and spirit.

Hmm....ok...I now can dream of being 'Queen'
...haha...

Cough cough cough (30 days and counting)

One of the common illness that I dread most is having the coughs.
It has been years since I last suffered from it - and now that I am down with it, I remember all too clearly why.

I hate the hacking and wracking...the bouts of muscle-pulling spasms.
It is an overall unpleasant experience.

But I realise that with age, it takes longer to recover.
Never before have I suffered from bronchitis.
Neither have I been traumatised by night wheezings and shortness of breath.
With a family history of asthma to contend with, I know that this is something that is now going to be quite common.

I hate missing school...
but need to recover.

Sorry kids

Audieu, Mrs Leong

When Veronica's status update reached out to the SACPS students about Mrs Leong's serious condition, her wall was flooded with messages.  The decades of students who went through her firm yet gentle ways of raising 'well-bred, refined young ladies'...she was a fine example of what an educator should be.

I knew Mrs Leong as my primary school principal...and also as a mother to one of my friends, Janelene. I really thought it was so cool to have a mother as a principal...since my mum was a teacher in the school. It meant that we could get away with anything...But it was proven otherwise.

Whenever we transgressed, we were brought back in line...no such thing as favouritism or nepotism (haha).  Mrs Leong was a tall, elegant lady...with 'genteel' upbringing. She neither screeched nor yelled...all it took was an extra long stare directed at you..it was enough to make one feel very small and sorry.

She was very, very , very neat...
In those days, all report books had manual entries, and she must have signed and written thousands of students' records.  She added her own comments next to the form teachers, and she always had something constructive to say.  It really made the girls feel special...for the principal knows you.

Over the years, I lost touch...and only renewed contact when I found Jan again via FB.  Well, Jan is very much like her mum, though Jan now is a doctor.  But she is very much like her mum, not only in looks , but with the same warm, classy disposition.

My heart goes to you and your family, Jan ...for your loss.
RIP Mrs Leong.
You will be missed.