LKY - why it's so hard to say goodbye

Since news of MM Lee Kuan Yew's worsening condition broke a few weeks ago, the nation has waited with growing dread. 

Why is this so? He's already 91 and has been frail for sometime. It's a ripe, old age, he's led a full life and he clearly misses his wife. He hasn't even been involved in politics for many years now, so his death will not impact Singapore in a big way. And yet, it somehow does.

A friend wrote on his FB: "More bummed out about ‪#‎LeeKuanYew‬ health than I realised. He looms larger in my psyche than I gave credit for." Why do we feel this way?

My parents and many of their time spoke of LKY with total deference. He created an economic miracle - this little red dot that was nothing, became a force to be reckoned with within one generation. He and his pioneering team achieved the impossible, armed with just extraordinary vision and sheer willpower.

My generation was less starry-eyed. After the 1980s, rumblings of discontent started. LKY was too controlling. Too hard-hearted. He ruled with an iron fist. Two main things I personally found disturbing about him: 1) He would mow down anyone who disagreed with him. It was terrifying, paralysing even. I suppose that was the effect he wanted and it worked. 2) He glorified himself at every opportunity (which he called Truths with a capital T) and saddled me with this debt of gratitude that he insisted I could never finish repaying in my lifetime. It was a Messiah complex that didn't sit well with me.

I know I wasn't the only one. However, back then, even mentioning any unhappiness with the Man (and the Party) was taboo. So people kept their grumblings to themselves. But then, the Internet age came about. Gradually, people realised that they could get away with saying anything (almost) without fear of the ISD knocking on their doors at midnight and ferrying them all away. Suddenly, all the pent-up frustrations burst forth like a dam. The sheen of LKY started to look a lot less shiny as people focused on his flaws. In a sense, it's like a teenager who has been made to obey instructions all his life, and facing freedom, decides to release all his resentment against his parents, his teachers, all authority.

But if we are to be honest with ourselves, we should know that in the midst of poking and picking at what the Man did wrong, they do not discount what he did right. And what he did right looms infinitely larger. Some may say, but he did it all for power! I say, sure, maybe part of it was, but if you examine closely all the work that he did, hours that he poured into working the ground, it cannot be the only, even the primary reason. If he simply wanted power and money, there were much easier ways to achieve those.

And there are those who would curse him now because they say he has ruined many lives. I don't believe for a moment that these people truly care about the so-called ruined lives. (It always strikes me as ironic - those with vested interests accusing others of having vested interests). It's the need to blame someone for your discontentment and what better way to do so than create shock value and rally other petty minions. If you would curse someone you barely know so easily, it reflects on your lack of humanity, not his (and such people seldom care for others so much as they care about themselves). You can disagree and still be respectful. So grow up already.

No matter how much I disliked LKY's style, I cannot deny that he has done more for this country than I could ever envision, even in my wildest dreams. Here is a man who transformed a tiny nation in all aspects - a peaceful city with many trees and green spots, where most Singaporeans own a home, where public services work efficiently, where corruption is an anomaly, and so on and so forth. The achievements in each of these areas are so massive and ahead of their time that sometimes, I think they have set an impossible standard in the minds of Singaporeans, so that we have come to expect perfection in everything and each mistake or breakdown becomes magnified a thousand times.

Perhaps we have always known this but it hasn't taken centrestage in our minds because it's always easier to focus on what's troubling us now. It took LKY at his deathbed for the spotlight to readjust itself and for us to finally come to terms with the enormity of the man and his legacy.

LKY is the ultimate patriarch of a slightly dysfunctional family, sometimes implosively so. In a nation where we are often accused of being identity-less, he's the figure that binds us in our past into our present. That's why letting him go is harder than we thought it might be because it's almost like giving up a little part of who we are.

And so I acknowledge that I need to put my adolescent days behind me and release this security blanket. Like Bertha Hanson who wrote so eloquently in this piece, I wish him a good death. As for the rest of us, it's time to let go. Thank you, LKY, for all you've done.

 

Words Go Round by NAC Singapore Writers Festival

The past few weeks have been exciting for us. We were part of the National Arts Council's Words Go Round 2015, which is an off-shoot event under the banner of the Singapore Writers Festival.

Schools can book authors for talks or workshops and we were booked for three sessions:

The first was a creative writing workshop at CHIJ Kellock (Primary). According to the teacher, the workshop was very popular and the girls had to ballot for places. Wah! We hope they had fun.

When we conduct these workshops, we often find that the kids start out hesitant at first, unable to think beyond the usual composition style and structure. But eventually, they loosen up and you can almost see the moment when the creative switch gets turned on "ding!" Once they realise they can be as wildly imaginative as possible, that's when the ideas start to flow and we get some really great stories.

The second session was a talk for p4-6s at Bukit View Primary. This talk was lots of fun. The kids were super interactive and when it came to Q&A, so many hands shot up we couldn't get to everyone in time! Love it when we meet so many students enthusiastic about reading and writing.

Finally, we conducted a school talk at for the Riverside Primary p3 kids. What a wonderfully vibrant sea of shades! Also a wonderful audience with many questions. I wish we had time to do Q&A for our other school talks. Kids often ask very intriguing questions. One boy asked why we called the character Danger Dan when he was supposed to save Singapore!

It's sometimes a scheduling nightmare to conduct these talks (in between Lesley-Anne's lessons where she has to dash out of school after class, go for a talk and return for another class). Nevertheless, we're very grateful to NAC for the warm support they've shown us. It really goes a long way when the national body for the arts sends the message to schools that they support local writers.

Meanwhile, we were also featured in NAC's Once in a Garden City brochure, which showcases new releases in local literature for children and young adults.

Also thanks to Singapore Motherhood for featuring us in this article on what local authors and celebrities read when they were young (in Lesley-Anne's case, younger).

Now that Words Go Round is over, Lesley-Anne has to study for block tests, which started the day after the Riverside Primary talk. I told her, never mind, you can rest after your A levels...maybe!

The age of acceptance

The weekend of CNY, I received a head butt from the Goat - my pc crashed. It shouldn't have caused that much anguish because my pc had already started acting wonky a few days ago and I'd backed up my files. Except in a strange twist of fate, I backed up most of my files but inadvertently left out the ones I'm currently working on.

And when I bleated to my cousin (who's an IT engineer) for help, he came over and declared my hard disk truly dead. My files were gone. I had to rewrite an entire section of the annual report I'm working on.

That's when I decided that I hated technology and I hated Goats.

Even in this catastrophe, I realise it could have been much, much worse and in the past, I would have just berated myself and moved on. This time however, I found myself angst-ing over the situation more than usual and I wonder if it has anything to do with age.

My friends sometimes complain about how their parents have become increasingly paranoid with age, such that they whip themselves into a frenzy over the trivial things - like having family members over, or have irrational stress outbursts.

I see it too with my mother-in-law. Her sister was flying over from Perth one night and there was a thunderstorm. She woke up from her nap with great anxiety in her eyes and asked, "It's raining so heavily! How is the plane going to land?"

In the past, I would have just dismissed it as crazy talk but now, I'm not so sure I wouldn't be similarly afflicted in the future. Things that I would never have given a second thought in the past sometimes keep me awake now. Like losing a file to tech-heaven. Or maybe tech-hell.

It's not just anxiety too. I never used to think I had OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder). Sure, there are things I get slightly uptight about, eg I like all the books in one series to be the same edition. But in general, I like to believe I'm quite accepting of disorder. After all, I'm the one who can never keep a desk tidy.

For many years, I went for weekly aerobics sessions at a fitness centre. Then one day, I attended a step aerobics class (this was my regular class, mind you, not a first-time thing), and when the class started, I noticed that the step board was not parallel to the floorboards - it was just a little slanted. For some strange reason, the angular mismatch bothered me. I nudged it a little to the left, then it became too far to the left, so I had to nudge it to the right.

The whole time, I was huffing and puffing up the board, surreptitiously attempting to correct the wrong by jumping more vigorously on the board either to the left or right. I think it got to the point where even when it looked aligned, I was convinced it was just a few millimeter off. It drove me bananas.

And throughout the entire session, I kept having this inner monologue, "Stop it *huff*. Why are you *puff* doing this. Stop *huff* obsessing! Stop obsessing *puff* over the obsessing!" And finally, I thought, that's it. I've completely gone insane.

I've since stopped my aerobics sessions and no, it's not because of that loony incident. It's because my knees couldn't take the pounding any more. Another wretched reminder of aging.

Last week, I organised a CNY lunch for my writers. In the 13 years I've run my writing agency, the pool of writers had grown and this was the first time I'd organised a gathering for all of them. Since I'm very particular about engaging writers, I only take on people I know with proven abilities or on strong recommendations of friends. What inevitably happened was that my writers are mostly my peers.

It struck me as hilarious that when we heard that one of the writers was born in 1983, a spontaneous roar erupted over the dining table: "You were born in the '80s?" "That's so YOUNG!" In case your maths fails you, being born in 1983 means that writer is 32 years old. Which isn't considered that young in most circles (Incidentally, I started my business when I was 32. I thought I was totally mature then!). But in a sea of those born in the 1970s and even 1960s, 32 years old is practically a baby.

That lunch was the most fun I'd had in a long time. It's no surprise that I get along tremendously well with my writers but I didn't quite expect them to get along as famously with each other as they did. There they were, chatting about work, kids, food, with a familiar ease (some of them met each other for the first time that day). We laughed so hard I think my neighbours heard us. Somehow, the wavelengths just met. I told them I'd never wanted to run a large company because I hated managing people. If there's one thing I don't miss about corporate life, it's the drama. But then I met my writers and they made running my agency so darn easy and fun.

And you know what, I'm pretty sure that age contributed more than we realise. The unassuming intelligence, the sharp, wacky sense of humour, the genuine interest in others without suspicion or agenda, the adept ability to get things done without fuss. Much of it all comes from years of experience - from work and from life.

Perhaps that's what it means to age. To be so comfortable with ourselves that we don't even bother to pretend anymore. And that makes us interesting because we don't try so hard. To know that we don't know everything and that's okay, because what we DO know makes up for a lot (and there's always Google, anyway). To know that the ability to laugh at ourselves is what will keep us young, and the opportunity to laugh along with friends, priceless.

So there we have it. If I can't stop the aging process, at least I can spend it in the company of like-minded folks. We can wear our unglam glasses and curse fine print together. Or go to the loo 143 times as we drink our wine. Or commiserate about how our kids are not getting married/bearing us the requisite grandchildren/paying us enough attention. And because we'll probably forget that we did all that, we can do it all over again. Sounds like fun.

Meh the huat be with you

CNY is a very big deal in our family, especially in terms of the food. We were very glad of the long weekend this year. We made a trip to Chinatown for my mil to get her usual array of waxed duck and sausages.

Kenneth managed to find a really nice kumquat plant this year.

More huat for the Hedgehogs, please!

A tradition we've kept all these years - serving tea to Grandma on CNY morning.

On the first day of CNY, Kenneth's extended family comes over for lunch. For this mega event, my mil and helper start preparing and cooking almost a week before. Look at the drool-worthy feast!

Lesley-Anne is usually the appointed photographer but this year, she got tired of taking the usual shots and went with a more unconventional theme. (Lego minifigures supplied by Andre).

Somewhere along the milky way

Darth Vader: Noooooooooo!

Darth Vader: Yeeeeeeeeesss!

I came in like a wrecking boar!

Where's chew-bak-kwa?

For the non-Star Wars fans, this is for you (though it would be funnier if you'd watched the Lego Movie).

Trust your instincts...

Must conquer...

Everything is awesome!!

Goat Xi Fa Cai, everybodeeee!

Much Ado About Nothing

Act 1, Scene 1

Monica is working in her office. Enter Andre.

Andre: *takes a few sheets of tissue paper from Monica's box*

Monica: "I thought you ran out a few days ago? Why didn't you just get yourself a new box?"

Andre: "I told you I ran out. I thought you would get a box for me."

Monica: "Take it yourself! You're so lazy. Why do I have to do everything for you?"

Andre *pouts*: "You're so selfish."

Monica *taunting*: "Selfish, shellfish. So I'm an oyster."

Andre: "An oyster is not a shellfish!"

Monica: "What do you mean? Of course it is!" *googles* "There, Wiki says a shellfish can refer to anything from clams and oysters to lobster and shrimp!"

Andre *protesting*: "You were the one who said Wiki was not reliable!"

Enter Lesley-Anne.

Andre: "Jie, jie, are oysters shellfish?"

Lesley-Anne *confused*: "Huh?"

Monica *reads from Wiki*: "'Shellfish is a culinary and fisheries term for exoskeleton-bearing aquatic invertebrates used as food, including various species of molluscs, crustaceans and echinoderms'. What on earth..."

Lesley-Anne *thinks hard*: "Well, if the broad definition is exoskeleton, then probably yes..."

Monica: "Oysters have shells! So they're shellfish!"

Lesley-Anne: "That's not the definition of shellfish! Snails have shells too! Are they shellfish then?"

Enter Kenneth.

Andre: "Daddy, are oysters shellfish? They're not, right?"

Kenneth *tries to remember his ancient biology notes*: "No...Yes they are. No wait, technically, they're molluscs."

Monica: "Says here molluscs are shellfish!"

Several minutes of heated debate. Finally...

Kenneth: "How did this topic even come up?"

Monica: "Oh, we were arguing over a box of tissue..."

Kenneth: ?????

Lesley-Anne: "I don't even."

Exit stage left.

See Dot Run

One of Lesley-Anne's 'A' level subjects is English Language and Linguistics (ELL) and part of it involves learning how to write for different audiences. Last year, one of their exercises was to write a short story for children with simple syntax (sentence structures).

Sounds legitimate enough. However, the example that the teacher showed the class was a story from one of those archaic Peter and Jane books:

Some of the students baulked at the tired cliches and decided to put their own spin on the assignment. This was Lesley-Anne's contribution:

Kate has a dog. The dog is white and its name is Dot. Mom and Dad love Kate and Kate loves Dot. Kate loves to play fetch with Dot.

One day, they go to the beach. Kate is afraid of the water so she stands on the sand. But Dot loves the water so she runs into the sea. Kate throws a shell into the sea. Dot runs to fetch it. They play the game for a long time. Kate and Dot are happy.

Kate throws a shell. The shell flies far into the sea. Dot runs after it. The waves are big and strong and the water splashes about. Kate cannot see Dot anymore. She runs to the edge of the sea. She is scared. She starts calling for Dot. She throws more shells.

But the dog does not come back.

She keeps throwing shells anyway.

Little Miss Macabre. I told Lesley-Anne if kids ever read that, they'd be traumatised for life! Fortunately, she didn't have to hand it up in the end because I'm not sure the teacher would have approved of such a ghoulish tale.

A few months later, the ELL class received another minor assignment to write a story for a brochure informing children about responsible pet ownership. Lesley-Anne's output was a prequel to her Kate and Dot story:

Kate was lonely. She wanted a pet to keep her company. So she set off in search of the perfect pet. She peeped at rabbits in their hutches. She watched fishes in their tanks. She spotted alley cats near the road. 

But Kate liked dogs best. On she went in search of the perfect dog. One was too lazy and slept all day. One was too hyper and jumped onto Kate. One was too noisy and barked all day. One was too shy and hid from Kate. 

One time, she seemed to have found the perfect dog. But it was too furry and Kate could not brush its fur. Another time, the dog was too big. Kate could not walk the dog. The dog walked her.

Kate was walking along the beach. She was still lonely. She picked up a shell and threw it into the ocean. Lo and behold! The perfect dog ran into the water and picked up the shell. Kate was afraid of the water. She stood on the shore while the dog stood in the water.

“Hello!” called Kate.

The dog looked up. It stood there quietly looking at Kate. It was not too noisy. It was not too furry. It was not too big.

“Come, dog!” said Kate. “Come and play with me!”

The dog ran over and put the shell in Kate’s hands. It sat quietly at her feet. It was not too lazy. It was not too hyper. It was not too shy.

“I’ll call you Dot!” cried Kate.

The dog barked a reply. It wagged its tail and smiled. Dot was perfect.

Kate threw the shell into the sea. She saw Dot run to fetch it. They played the game for hours. Kate laughed and Dot woofed. The two best friends spent the whole day at the beach. Their game could have gone on forever.

And Kate was happy. 

Can you tell that I have a morbid daughter? When you read this in isolation, it sounds like a perfectly pleasant story but as a back story to the previous exercise...shudder. The teacher never got around to marking the assignment, so Lesley-Anne doesn't know how she did.

Personally, I love it when kids show creativity and dare to think outside the boundaries. When we conduct writing workshops, we always encourage the kids to be as imaginative and original as possible. However, I'm realistic enough to know that not every teacher or examiner would agree.

Ah well. At least I know that if all else fails, Lesley-Anne can pursue a career as a horror script writer.

Homemade burgers

Our family, especially Andre, loves burgers. Some of our favourite haunts for burgers were Fat Boys, Two Blur Guys and New Zealand Bar and Grill.

That is, until I found this great recipe online for homemade burgers that's very simple but super delicious. Ever since we started making this, we've not gone to gourmet burger places. Much easier on the wallet!

Ingredients:

Makes five burgers

• 500g minced beef
• 1 onion, chopped
• 1 tbsp tomato ketchup
• 1 egg yolk
• 1 tbsp olive oil
• salt and ground black pepper
• choice of herbs eg. paprika or parsley (optional) 

5 burger buns
5 large portobello mushrooms, stalks removed
5 slices of cheddar cheese

Directions:

1. Place all the burger ingredients in a mixing bowl and stir to combine. Shape into five equal-sized patties.

2. Preheat the grill. Cook burgers and mushrooms under the grill for 15 minutes or until patties are cooked through, turning once.

You can add whatever garnish you like to the burgers eg. onions, lettuce or tomatoes. We serve our burgers with home-made sweet potato wedges.

They're very moist and flavourful.

Andre eats two of these at a go!

Afternote: A friend pointed out an error in my original recipe which strangely included 4 large eggs as part of the recipe. Yikes! Sorry, my mistake! Apologies to all who tried it and must have ended up with a soggy mess. I've corrected the recipe.

On scholarships and the school of life

Now that Lesley-Anne is in her final JC year, it's time to think about university education. I sometimes get asked: will she be studying overseas?

The answer is simple: only if she can get a scholarship.

There are two reasons for this. The main one is obviously financial. Have you seen overseas university fees these days? They're astronomical and I'm not about to take a second mortgage on my home just to pay for a fancy qualification. (Incidentally, I'm also one of those who don't believe in moving house to be close to my kid's school, so what do I know.)

Secondly, unlike many people, I'm not convinced that an overseas education is necessary to do well in life. I often hear people tell me their overseas experience was invaluable. I don't doubt that. However, when I see the people around me, including my peers, I honestly don't see a difference among those who studied locally and those who studied overseas, whether in intelligence, world view or even career success. There are wide variants in both camps. Which leads me to conclude that it's really what you make of your education that's important, and an overseas education is a nice-to-have, not a necessity. Meaning, we'll pay for our kids' university education locally but if they want to go overseas, they'll have to make it happen themselves.

Inevitably, the next question when I mention scholarship is: but scholarship usually means bond! I'm sure everyone would have read about Eng Kai Er's case, which caused a ruckus late last year when she protested against her six-year scholarship bond with A*STAR, citing disinterest in her work. Like many others, I thought her attitude smacked of entitlement. No interest then don't take up the scholarship lah! In this case, she didn't just accept one but TWO. I can believe she wasn't sure what she wanted at age 18 but you can't convince me that four years later, after completing a undergraduate degree, she still didn't know science isn't her cup of tea to not apply for a second scholarship.

The thing is, her case is not unique, just that it made headlines. I've heard cases where scholarship holders want to change course, want to change job when serving their bond, want to break bond, etc, without facing the penalties. These stories bug me even more when the individuals are from well-heeled families who accept scholarships purely for the prestige and then expect the sponsoring company to bend over backwards for them.

Look, I'm not saying only poor families deserve scholarships. I'm saying, a scholarship is a privilege...for you, not the company. And as a scholarship holder, you should at least have the grace to acknowledge and accept this. If the company is going to invest tens of thousands of dollars into you, they would naturally expect returns. What, you thought it was a free ride?

But what if you're serving out your bond and like Eng Kai Er, you hate your job? I think underlying this mentality is the growing attitude that 1) being happy is your right 2) it's your company's responsibility to make you happy. The problem arises when kids have been brought up to believe that their happiness is their sole purpose in life and that the companies "owe" them somehow. I've read forums where even interns complain they're paid too little and are being "ripped off" for their work. Really? If even as an intern, you have such grandiose ideas about yourself, then your starting point is already wrong. That's not how the world works. If your mentality is as such, then don't take on a scholarship. Get a father-mother loan.

I'm probably starting to sound like an ogre now but no, I'm not actually advocating that people need to work in misery. The thing is, a fresh graduate is different from a seasoned employee. For the latter, I hope people try to look for jobs where they can find fulfilment. For most fresh graduates, I'll go out on a limb and say that no matter how much you think you know, no matter whether you've done work internships etc, there are probably lots of things in the corporate world that you haven't the faintest clue about. And the first job is there for you to learn (even if it's to learn what you DON'T like doing!) and garner some work experience. The company that hires you is taking more of a chance than you.  

I'm not saying, do something you know you're going to hate. If you dislike teaching, for heaven's sake, don't take on a teaching scholarship! If you hate figures and business, don't accept a bank scholarship no matter how prestigious. Common sense. But chances are, there are many jobs out there that you won't know whether you'll enjoy.

So if you treat your first job as a testbed and learning platform of sorts, then what's the problem with a bond? Hearing the way some people talk, you would think a bond is a lifetime of slavery. It's not. Three or four years is the NOT the rest of your life. Really. Take it from someone who's been working for more than 20 years. Even if it turns out not to be your ideal job, or you don't like your boss or your colleagues, taking a few years to learn stuff is not a waste of your time (unless there's verbal abuse or something). Make the most of it. Trust me, you will learn something.

I was a scholarship student. I was bonded for three years to a statutory board upon graduation from NUS. What did I know about the work they did before I signed on the dotted line? Next to nothing. But it sounded interesting enough and I was extremely grateful to them - for paying for my education and for giving me a job. I worked hard and I learned lots. Till today, I practise certain skills and remember nuggets of wisdom that I learned from my first job.

Quite a while back, Lesley-Anne had expressed possibility that she might want to work with me in my writing business in the future. I told her, whoever said I would hire you? I only take on experienced writers. Work a few years in the corporate world, show me what you can do, then we talk.

Ok, maybe I exaggerate a little (just a wee bit!) If she's really keen to join me, I'll consider it for sure. But what's certain is that I won't take her on until I know she can cut it, and that definitely means having attained some work experience. Basically the message I want to send to my kids is: don't expect any handouts when it comes to work. Even from your mother.

Work hard, learn something, then you can talk about rewards. Show your mettle and after that, you'll have the cards to ask for what you want. Not before.

What Danger Dan has taught us

Last year this time, our Danger Dan journey began when the first book was published. It was a momentous event for Lesley-Anne and me, to say the least.

Exactly a year later, the final book of the series is out! Danger Dan Creates the Ultimate Utama Uproar will hit bookstores probably from mid-January. Since this is the fifth book, the excitement on seeing the printed work wasn't as exhilarating as the first time. In fact, Lesley-Anne was more expectant about starting the new school year. (Sometimes, I feel like our roles are reversed - me the giddy, heady schoolgirl and she, the pragmatic, no-nonsense one.) Still, seeing the final book out felt quite surreal to me. Did we really have a book series published?

So much has happened over the past year...and Danger Dan was a big part of it. Book launches, speaking engagements, etc - and more than just being part of an exciting project, I believe they have been invaluable in developing Lesley-Anne's psyche and confidence. How so? Well, quite by accident, the Danger Dan experience has given her a glimpse of the "real" world and shown her that the education journey is just one part of life. There is a whole different set of experiences waiting to be had outside of school. So even though this is her 'A' level year, she's not single-mindedly obsessed about the exams, as some kids might be.

I need to qualify that as parents, we have always stressed this point - that exams and results aren't everything and she already knows it. But knowing something in a superficial way can sometimes seem like a platitude aimed at quelling a fear of the unknown. Nothing beats the knowledge that comes from having your own experience reinforce what you know in theory. That sort of understanding comes from deep in your gut and is usually accompanied by a very comforting sense of security.

I think that's what has happened. Because of Danger Dan, Lesley-Anne's self-assurance has been boosted and we're happy and grateful for that. She still works crazy hard, of course, but whatever the results of the 'A' levels, she knows they will not define her, and that goes a long way towards relieving some of the pressure and anxiety.

And in a special commemoration of sorts, Andre has featured Danger Dan in a Minecraft roller coaster he built. Andre has always insisted that he's not creative (a mistaken self-belief I've tried to dispel for a long time). Then he created this roller coaster that completely blew me away, especially since he only started playing Minecraft three months ago.



Pardon a mother's bias but I thought it was a brilliant visual treat (even though in real life, nobody would ride such a coaster - there are free falls!) So much thought and details went into it. He also chose and added the music for the video. I hope you will take five minutes to view the video and if possible, like or leave an encouraging comment here (on the Youtube page) so Andre will finally believe what a creative little guy he is :)

Forget me not

I love the start of a new school year. It's always so full of hope and symbolises fresh beginnings: Since my kid is one year older, surely he will be wiser, pay more attention in class and score better grades in exams! This is the year he will transform into an A student! I just know it.

Lesley-Anne once told me that our minds tend to play tricks on us by brushing our bad memories with a rose-coloured tint. It's a defence mechanism to help us cope and protect us from re-living emotional trauma. Which is all well and good but I also believe it makes us slightly deluded.

When Andre was in primary school, one of the things about him that used to drive me bananas was his seeming inability to listen, a close second only to his memory which had more holes than a gopher colony's network. For instance, in p4, there was a question he had answered incorrectly in his science paper: "Plants photosynthesise in the daytime and respire at night". I told him that plants respired all the time, not just at night. I then diligently went through the lesson with him to make sure he understood it.

The next term, barely three months later, he came home with another science paper and I saw to my chagrin that in response to a similar question, he'd again written: "Plants respire only at night."

Me *exasperated*: "I already told you! Plants respire in the day AND at night!"

Andre: "Hah? They do? You never told me that!"

Me *staring at him in disbelief*: "We went through the lesson! Weren't you listening??"

Andre gave me an indignant look as if to say I was dreaming the whole thing up. So we went through the lesson once again. "You understand it now? Plants don't just respire at night, they respire all the time." He nodded.

A year later in p5, you wouldn't believe it but he got exactly the same question wrong AGAIN. The sentence that had come to plague me in my nightmares: "Plants respire at night." OMG! I blew my top. "What's wrong with you? Are you trying to kill me??"

He looked at me blankly. "Hah? Plants don't respire at night?"

Sometimes I wonder if aliens abduct my son at night and replace him with a look-alike model.

Trying to teach Andre anything was always frustrating because even if I'd succeeded in getting him to understand something, I knew there was a good chance he would have no recollection of it later. Yet every start of the school year, I would have this inexplicable hope that he would miraculously grow a beautiful mind overnight.

Now that he's in secondary school, the situation has improved somewhat but he still has a problem with listening. Whenever he tells me the teacher didn't say this or the other, my instinctive scepticism always surfaces. "She didn't say it or you didn't hear it?" Which if you think about it, is kinda a pointless question because if he didn't hear it, he certainly wouldn't know if she had said it.

Then of course, there's the "hear half the instructions" syndrome. If I'm at a mall and tell Andre to "go to BreadTalk and tell Daddy I'll be there in 15 minutes", he would hear only "go to BreadTalk." Then he'll call me five minutes later and ask, "I'm at BreadTalk. Where are you?"

A couple of weeks ago, Lesley-Anne was complaining how tired she was.

Lesley-Anne: "I'm sleepy and grumpy."

Me *teasing*: "So those are the two dwarfs you identify with?"

Lesley-Anne: "Yup. And in the morning, Sneezy."

Me: "Which one are you, Andre?"

Andre: "Me? I'm Blur."

Lesley-Anne: "Blur?? That's not a dwarf!"

Andre: "Huh? What dwarf?"

Me: "Never mind. I think Blur is right."

But that was 2014. It's a New Year. Surely this year, Andre will make the transformation. I can feel it in my bones.