At less than two years old, my daughter can count to 10, sing her alphabets, understand the basic functions of a laptop and TV remote control, choose her food and most definitely, work around the iPhone (or any phone for that matter).
She can point out cows, dogs, cats, sheep, fish, flowers, shoes, bags and many others, in any book we show her. This means that she can register shapes in her brain and, I must say, has a pretty good memory. She has indicated to us her changing taste in music which began with rock kapak (to lullaby her to sleep), Bollywood classics, nursery rhymes, then to anything by Elmo, to 80’s Madonna and now, unfortunately, Justin Bieber. Although, I’m glad she has both Feist and Norah Jones listed as her favourite artistes.
I’m not boasting, seriously, because, all of the above is not important. Not to me, and I hope, not to any of you as well.
Most important, my daughter can smile and laugh, when she’s happy or amused, cry when she’s sad or sleepy, and shout at the top of her lungs when she’s angry and doesn’t get what she wants.
In addition, my daughter can sit, stand, walk, run, jump. She can eat through her mouth, breath through her nose, see through her eyes, listen to sounds and react to touch. She knows when she’s hungry, sleepy, or in pain, and is able to communicate that to us, albeit in her own baby language. After all the concerns and worries of her being down-syndrome, midget, etc., during my wife’s 8-month pregnancy, and then the 1-month wait before she was actually discharged from hospital, my daughter, Zahra Iman, is normal. And we are grateful for that. If not for the fact that I empathize with parents who don’t share the same fate, I’ll shout at the top of my lungs and boast about that.
Some parents nowadays may be too indulgent in their pursuit of developing their child’s full potential. I know the pressure and expectations of education in Singapore has increased compared to when we were young. I know that everything now is a race. This “Everything your child can do, my child can do better” mentality even when covered by pretentious humility and modesty, and especially when expressed bluntly, seems to have been embedded in a lot of Singaporeans.
I have friends who have enrolled their children as young as 3-6 months, into $800 per semester courses like the Shichida method, so that their children can read/memorise flash cards, etc – much like a robot can. Parents who scour through the internet for the best nursery to place their children in, 2-3 years before their child actually qualify for nursery. I’ve heard of parents who volunteer themselves to primary schools they want their child to be in, even before their child hits kindergarten.
Don’t get me wrong, I have no problem with all that. If you can afford it, why not? Right? I don’t know actually, but I, for one, would rather not jump into that bandwagon. Children now have become prized trophies for their parents to exhibit and show off in social networking sites, especially during their birthdays. The problem is, it’s not the children who are actually being exhibited, because no one dislikes seeing a cute little toddler in a high-fashion number, but what is actually being exhibited, is what these parents have done or can do for their children, i.e. big birthday bashes, unique baby diet, awesome baby clothes, and last but not least, most sought after baby schools.
Yes, yes. “Aku punya anak, aku punya sukalah.” YES! That’s true. But it makes me want to puke, seriously. Like seriously.
I want to let my child grow. Let her enjoy childhood. Let her learn how to socialize, how to differentiate, how to learn – in her own way, through her own observations. I have no expectations of my child. No, actually that’s not true. I do want her to grow up as a person who is logical, who knows what’s right and what’s wrong, who is morally intact, who respects those worth respecting, who questions whenever in doubt.
Of course, I have my own hopes. Hopes that she will be intelligent, be a top-achiever, a great singer, a great dancer, an artist – just great in anything she sets her heart/mind on. But never by compromising the main principles of life, i.e. to enjoy it while she still has it.
The most important expectation falls on me – on us as parents. That I can answer her questions, meet her requests and feed her hunger. That I am financially-secured to provide for her and her passion. That I can be the shoulder she seeks whenever she cries and be the first person she looks for to break the news, good or bad.
It’s not that I’m self-righteous. I’m logical, I know what’s right and wrong, I’m morally intact, respect those worth respecting and I question when in doubt. You got me. I do want my child to inherit my character, minus the ego, the arrogance, the over-confidence and definitely the vices. She will follow my wife’s humility, modesty, adhering and lovable nature, her humour definitely. My mom’s leadership and organization skills. My sister’s politeness and empathy. My father’s care and concern. My father-in-law’s loyalty, my mother-in-law’s tenderness. My family’s camaraderie.
In other words, my child’s primary education will be from home simply because that’s where it should start. Yes, I have the intention to enroll her into swimming, music, maybe even Phonics classes, but I’m definitely not rushing out to do it. If we treat our children’s lives as a race, then everything will pass by too quickly. Try asking Louis Hamilton if he had ever spotted a group of ardent fans cheering for him while he’s driving his McLaren. And in all honesty, their lives are not the product of our hard work, our money spent, those glorious birthday celebrations that they can’t even remember. No. From the moment they entered this world, our lives are the products of their existence, because they have brought meaning to us all.
And here’s me showing off my daughter, and the product of her observation – her parents’ addiction to the iPhone and her mother’s kookiness.
