J's learning journey - Almost 2 years on

I disappeared rather quickly after my last post, and for a long time because
- life happen (quite literally!) but that's another story,
- I had little opportunity to use the laptop and blogger mobile wasn't working too great for me, and
- when I finally get to turn on my laptop, my inspiration disappears once I logged in. The thousand thoughts on my mind just went *poof* and I end up doing something else.

However, these few months, I found my previous logs and posts about baby and Lil' J to be very useful. There are so many little details I've forgotten, and would probably never remember had I not written them down. That's why I'm back this time, for a short documentation (which may end up a grandmother's story) of J's learning journey thus far. For future reference.


For the first two years, I mainly let J explore and play on her own.
There was hardly any planned activities. Not that I didn't want to; it didn't work out.
I did attempt sensory bins but the first one resulted in alphabet pasta strewn all over the place, and other invitation-to-play activities doesn't seem quite inviting to the little girl.
So, after pulling quite a bit of hair of and soaking in mom-guilt that I haven't done enough, I let it slide.
It wasn't a conscious decision. It was more of a "I'm-too-tired-to-fight-it-anymore".
We visited grandma's more because I couldn't cope. From there we tried to take her to places and give her more experiences.
Grandma let her play with oobleck, containers, vegetables ends and bits, stickers, or doodle. Whatever she wants. It was mainly sensory play, without the purposeful set up. It turns out that J likes it better when it's not "structured". And that I feel more relaxed now that I didn't have an expected outcome in mind.

I did a few thematic activities when J was around two.
It looked fun. It was fun.
But a part of me felt like it wasn't really genuine. J didn't like the activities that didn't involve her favourite - painting, or field trips. All the sensory bins (yes, I attempted again) I laid out, she didn't like it. Towards the end, I was confused about whether she learnt anything, or not.
During our activities, I had to make it sound and feel like it was "Oh! So fun!!!" just to get her interested.Somewhat forced.
To be very frank, I was bothered by what I saw on social media. The play activities laid out by other mothers look awesome, and inviting. And most importantly. it seemed like the children enjoy it so much that they could spend a lot of time playing with the set-up so why can't my kid do the same?
There were many days of doubt, and guilt.
Mine could only sit for a long period flipping through her story books, or spend hours on pretend play.
Hey, she could spend a long time with books and pretend play and I was complaining?! I don't know what I was comparing, and why.
I wasn't contented with what I was doing with J. I didn't feel I did enough, I had to constantly remind myself that it's okay.

It was only until our first family holiday that I realised what brings J joy. Which, I realised, was more important.
Playing in the creek.
Running in big spaces.
Trying out new things, like stepping on mud. (She actually removed her rainboots sneakily to step on the mud)
Falling in dirt.
Climbing a ladder.
Playing in sand and at the playground.
Just cuddling us.

All the simple things.
No planned activities. No intended outcome.
But so much learning took place.
I saw how empathetic she was.
How brave when she climbed up the high playground while I was freaking out below.
How she didn't fear when she fed the animals, or touch the reptiles.
How she observed wool and drew it in her journal later.
How she self-feed the entire trip.

Then I realised, I should let J be J.
When we returned, I had a short part-time stint which meant time away from J. Those days I wasn't working, we would just have fun together. No more thematic learning.

We set up a mini craft station where she had access to papers and drawing materials.
When we included glue and scissors later, she was so proud.

Then I saw her create. Freely.
She asked me to cut out shapes of birds and cats, and she decorated them after.
It progressed to paper towel roll art whenever she spot empty ones in the kitchen.
She was so happy, so was I.
She continued reading. This time, she could retell stories by looking at the illustrations.
She couldn't do it word for word, and she replaces some with words of her own but the gist of the story is there.


Then, school started, and I noticed how much she was learning in school.
So, we continued just having fun reading and letting her roll with the creativity and imagination.
I still have doubts.
I still try to slot in activities for her when I can.
But now, I know better what kind of activities suit her.

This is what I learnt.
There are many online which I can learn from, but I also learnt that not all are for J.
I cannot do printables and worksheets with her.
I cannot do activity cards for number recognition - J will remember the answers and the cards will be useless after the first use.
With J, it's always best to sneak in learning in daily life.
Unless she brings an activity book and requests for it to be done. Then she'll do it. Just a little bit.

I've also learnt that her attention span is not as long and she need tasks to be broken down to bite-sized.
She hates colouring with crayons and colour pencils. But to fill in a shape using other methods, she welcome them.
She likes cutting, and creating, and doodling on her own.
She enjoys painting -most are abstract.

She's learning to spell her name - much later than some of her peers, I believe. But she did it because she was ready. When she's ready. That's the key, isn't it?



It has been a long journey.
For me.
But I'm glad I wasn't too late in discovering what suits her better. Not best, because how would I know what suits her best? I can only keep trying. :)
And I'm glad I decided to let J, be J.

I think I am growing.

"I think I am growing to become a big girl," she told me out of a sudden while we were grocery shopping this weekend.
"Why?"
"Because I can use the knife."

It turns out it was because I allowed her to use a knife to slice bananas for breakfast that morning.
We didn't allow her to touch knives for obvious reasons, but we didn't allow her to touch those from our cutlery set either. It was an "adult" thing in the family.
But I thought it was time to get her to do simple food preparation like spreading jam, and, well, slicing bananas, so I allowed it. With adult supervision, I emphasized.

She did a great job, by the way. I was expecting her to smash the banana but she did manage to slice them to the thickness I told her. Then at breakfast, Daddy asked for the ones she sliced up and gave her some too. I didn't know how proud she was until she made that statement.

The Husband's actions reminded me of something.

Celebrate their achievements, no matter how small.

It did make a difference when we showed interest in what she was learning and what she was capable of.

And as I was typing this, I was reminded of a post I wrote about my friend's child many years back. The photos are missing but you can still read them if you like.
 Yet another reminder for me,

Let them try.

Lessons from the Bub: Being aware

J is starting to vocalize her thoughts.
It's a wonderful thing because you get to know what she thinks.
And a toddler's thoughts are often so genuine. And mostly, funny.

There have been the amusing ones like "Mama, stay here," when she wants to walk to the towel on her own, to dry her hands. She even turns back to check that I'm not following her. I don't know if I should laugh or cry at this one.
Or the "Mama's belly button big.. TT's belly button small." 
Even her "TT don't cry!" when she doesn't get her way, is funny. It's like a verbal reminder to herself.

But these two days, she has been saying things that have taken me aback, and made to stop to think and reflect what I have done as a mother. They are also the ones that made me write this post.



She was trying to use her leg to open her door. Very naturally, I gestured to hit her leg, playfully. I didn't in the end, because the next thing I heard:  "Mama don't hit TT leg."

That day I was drying her after her shower and she was on her tummy, I hit her on her butt cheeks. She was being playful. It wasn't a spank, but it didn't turn out as gentle as I wanted to either.
Then I saw the tiny scar on her butt cheek. I don't know how she got it but it has appeared after she complained of pain some months back. "Does it hurt?" I asked.
"Ya... Mama hit TT."

Just a while ago, my back was hurting so terribly that I don't really know what I was doing anymore.
It was already 1 hour plus since we have attempted to "go to bed".
She was at the potty, and I had to clean her up. I pulled the onesie up and buttoned it up over her shoulders so that the pyjamas will not get wet when I wash her up. She didn't want to because her hair got caught between the snap buttons before, and it hurt. But I convinced her to, anyway.
I proceeded to unbutton the onesie after I was done. I was on auto-pilot.
Suddenly she spoke, with a little pout, so subtle that you can almost miss it. But I heard it in her voice. "TT ear painful. Mama hit TT's head. Mama open button SO hard."
She repeated the same phrase again when we were in bed.

"TT's ear painful. Mama open the button SO hard."
Wow. That hurt.
Because quite honestly, I didn't even realise that. Did I hit her accidentally?
I remember I was being grumpy, and in pain, and tired. I wasn't aware of how much force I had used to unbutton those snap buttons.

I thought.
Then I realised that I was also unaware of her feelings when it comes to my instinctive gestures.
Those so-called "natural" and "instinctive" gestures - my toddler didn't like them.
Of course she doesn't. Now that I put myself in her shoes, I wouldn't have, too.
But people do it often right? The "pretend-spank" and the "hit-the-bum". They somehow seem like a very normal adult-thing to do.
They are, right? Do you all do that too? Or am I the only one?



Anyhow, I'm glad my toddler spoke up. I'm glad she vocalized her thoughts and told me how she felt.
I wouldn't have known otherwise.
We usually don't think that much when we interact with toddlers, do we?
I'm not saying we should give in to them all the time.
Or over-think how they might feel and let that hinder discipline.
Or give up on fun altogether.

Just be a little bit more aware of what we say and what we do.
Because toddlers have feelings too.

One more thing for me to take note of, and learn in this journey of parenthood.
Thank you, love.

Today, I judged my kid.

I don't exactly know how to start.

This is one of those days where J gets all squirmy and wriggly in the bus. She does that quite often when she uses up her "GOOD". Yes, I actually think she has a quota. When she's well-behaved in the day, my bus ride gets pretty "exciting". When she is exceptionally good and sweet that day, she becomes a little terror in the bus.

Today, she squirmed and wriggled.

And pulled my hair.

She wasn't even noisy. She was just squirming.

For the entire 50 minutes, she didn't stop moving. She couldn't stay in her seat too, so she kept struggling to get off the seat. In the process, the people sitting opposite us suffered a few kicks on their knees. 

It wasn't the worst day. She had pulled out my spectacles and smacked me on the face before. Only that today, the bus is less crowded and I can see the expressions on others' faces.

The two people sitting opposite us didn't look quite happy, obviously. The moment J kicked the man opposite us, accidentally, he'll brush his pants. I apologised but I think he didn't hear me. He had his earphone on. The lady, had a smile when she first sat down and that quickly turned into a stern look. I hope it was due to the text she received and not J. Or maybe that's just her "not-smiling" look.

I also saw bewildered looks, as well as looks of sympathy on some faces. I really hope it was only because I was too sensitive, but these thoughts raced through my head.

"This mother can't even control her kid. Tsk."

"Oh my goodness. This is one hyperactive kid!"

"Why didn't she tie up her hair?"

(This one, I have the answer to. Because I've tried multiple ways. Top knot, buns.. With hair ties or hair clips. None worked. The only way is to shave my head. Not kidding at all.)

"Why didn't she discipline her kid?"

(I contemplated hitting her, but what good does it do to spank a 20-month-old? Do they get it?)

That's when I felt my cheeks flush.

Not with anger, but from embarrassment.

I was embarrassed that my child was behaving like this in the bus. And it got worse when I remembered I was facing everyone else. 

For a moment, I wondered if J is just being a typical, curious toddler? Or is she hyperactive? Or, does she have any underlying issues I'm unaware of? ADHD?

I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. 

I was exasperated.

I was certain that everyone was judging me. That my kid is probably "special". I don't want them to think that way. Now, as I'm writing this, I feel horrible for feeling this way.

Throughout the whole trip, I concerned myself with what I feel others would think. And those were not good thoughts. They made me feel that my child wasn't good enough. I was still embarrassed when we reached home.

It didn't help that she simply laid on the floor and didn't want to take off her shoes by herself today. (It didn't even occur to me that she has these moments because she's tired. I just figured that out.)

It was only when J ran to take her daddy's boxers from the dresser because she knew he was getting ready to shower, that it struck me.

I had judged my child. 

And I judged her based on what others see.
People who share a few minutes on the bus with us. People who didn't matter.

I forgot about the wonderful things she did that those people don't see.
Things that warmed the hearts of the people close to us.
Things that made me cry in the middle of the night because I'm thankful I have her as my daughter.

The smile every morning when she wakes; she doesn't whine in the morning.

The kisses she plants on us when we are injured, or unwell.

That look of concern when she thinks someone is hurt. Anyone.

The hugs she gives because she knows when we are feeling down.

The sudden "I love you!"

The request for family hugs.

Her independence, and readiness to try new things.

Her eagerness in helping around the house.

Her sensibility.

And by the simple fact that she takes a new pair of her daddy's boxers to the bathroom because she knows he is getting ready to shower. Without us telling her to.

I forget I often think that she's the best thing that has happened to me. A rather easy baby. And a very cheerful one.

I really want to kick myself for judging her. I can see some of you kicking me virtually already. 
That reminds me of this one quote I want to remember.

Lessons from the Baby #1 - Pick yourself up

 

If you tumble and fall, pick yourself up.

Many times, we have heard that parents are a child's first teachers.
We probably didn't consider this but a baby can, and does teach us a thing or two.
About life.
How philosophical.


Half the time I spend at home is invested in watching Lil' J play in her playpen.
What it looks like: Quiet time for the little one to play and explore.
What it actually is: Mommy is too tired from carrying you. / Mommy has no idea what activities to engage you in.

Any way, Lil' J gets a substantial amount of quiet time each day.

This morning, I watched as she went about her usual play.
Pull to stand.
Cruise.
Fall.
Repeat.
Legs get tired.
Barely stood.
Fall.
Try again.

This has been going on for quite a couple of weeks but it strikes a chord in particular today because I am going through a rather rough patch.
And as I watched, I learnt that the little one did not give up.
She did not fall into despair.
Instead, she just kept picking herself up and continued to try again.

It's ironic that as an adult, I tend to do the complete opposite.
There's no point feeling upset after a 'fall'.
Everyone falls.
What's important is that we learn to pick ourselves up.

And unhappiness, is just like taking a tumble. Pick yourself up and be happy again.

Thank you, Baby.
I know what I should do now.