Had a good breakfast this morning with a friend. As usual, we covered every topic we could in a span of 2 hours. A great feat for ladies like us.
Anyway, the subject of commitment came up. What are we parents teaching our children about commitment? As adults, we learned that being committed means persevering, hard work and being there when we say we would.
We spoke about children not going to school before their exams because they want to revise at home or not going to school after the exams because the teachers are not teaching and there's nothing to do. Now, if we allow our children to stay home, where are their commitment in going to school? What are we telling the teachers and classmates? We do as we please because we can or we go to school when we need to and don't when we have received what we wanted?
Do we see how our children's attendance affect the class? What if the teacher has planned projects or games for the class? How can she execute her plans when half the class is absent? What does this say about the child? She's not dependable, lazy, or tidak apa.
I believe a person's commitment to anything shows a lot about he/she. What are our children's responsibilities? It's school. My 15 year old daughter just finished her PMR. She continued attending school until recently. We wanted her to learn volunteer work so in her whole school life this is the first time we allowed her to stop going to school. She's is now doing volunteer work from 9-5, five days a week.
Parents, as much as we would like our children to be home with us, allowing them to miss school teaches them that it's ok to play hooky. Noticed adults who play hooky at work? Where did they learned that from?
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Exposure
I have always thought I'll be a modern Mum. One who would be my child's friend. Someone who will share clothes with her teenage daughter and who will be cool with her having a boyfriend. Yeap! I was a cool Mum UNTIL I BECAME A MUM!
I gave my 15 year old daughter a long lecture about dressing that I never thought I would. The world has changed my perspective about being IN. If being IN is having to show your navel or your crack or even your butt chicks, I would prefer to be out dated. How gross to be having a meal and catching a glimpse of someone's crack.
Parents, are we so out of it that we don't bother what our children wear these days? Don't we still have a say in what our children wear? Aren't we the ones paying for their clothes? I think if parents stand up for good moral standards, we might see less disgusting behaviours in public.
Can we blame everything to media? What our children watch and listen to these days are big contributions to their moral degradation but I believe, if parents hold on to their beliefs and moral upbringing, we can fight this battle and maybe win.
Yes, we can't control everything our children do but we can teach and guide them. Aren't we guardians of our children? They may not belong to us as they will one day grow up and live their own lives but for now, we do play an important role in their upbringing. How can they behave well when we don't teach it to them?
I gave my 15 year old daughter a long lecture about dressing that I never thought I would. The world has changed my perspective about being IN. If being IN is having to show your navel or your crack or even your butt chicks, I would prefer to be out dated. How gross to be having a meal and catching a glimpse of someone's crack.
Parents, are we so out of it that we don't bother what our children wear these days? Don't we still have a say in what our children wear? Aren't we the ones paying for their clothes? I think if parents stand up for good moral standards, we might see less disgusting behaviours in public.
Can we blame everything to media? What our children watch and listen to these days are big contributions to their moral degradation but I believe, if parents hold on to their beliefs and moral upbringing, we can fight this battle and maybe win.
Yes, we can't control everything our children do but we can teach and guide them. Aren't we guardians of our children? They may not belong to us as they will one day grow up and live their own lives but for now, we do play an important role in their upbringing. How can they behave well when we don't teach it to them?
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Invisible Mother
A friend of mine sent this to me and it did make me cry. Many a time I feel small when friends talk about their careers then I am reminded, "The hand that rocks the cradle, rules the world".
Invisible Mother
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask me a question.
Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously, not.
No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'Whatnumber is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated sum a cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going; she's going; she is gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England ..
Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself.
I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:
'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, afterwhich I could pattern my work:
No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place.
It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never seefinished, to work on something that their name will never be on.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing tosacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'you're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Invisible Mother
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask me a question.
Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously, not.
No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'Whatnumber is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated sum a cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going; she's going; she is gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England ..
Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself.
I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:
'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, afterwhich I could pattern my work:
No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place.
It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never seefinished, to work on something that their name will never be on.
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing tosacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'you're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Is blood red?
I love Lat the cartoonist. He is a true Malaysian. His cartoons show the common people playing, working and leaving together in harmony. We can be Malay, Chinese, Indian or lain-lain but when it comes to a common cause, our race doesn't matter.
My husband and I never taught our children about race. I remember, when my daughter (at the age of 5) was asked, what race she is, she said, "English" because she spoke English. She didn't know what race her friends were because she never saw what colour they are. They are her friends.
I believe it is the parents' responsibility to make our children colour blind. I have friends of all races and nationality. We laugh together and sometimes cry together. We may dress differently and are from different religious back ground but we are citizens of earth. We are here for a short time. Do we live in peace or do we cause chaos, a legacy we leave our children? All because we cannot look pass a person's colour.
Every one I speak to says the same thing, "I don't have a problem with Chinese or Malays or Indians." If this is what the common people are saying, why are some saying we have a racial problem?
Is blood red? Yes it sure is. Every human being has red blood.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
English or Bahasa Malaysia or English
Aiyah! Don't they yet know it is not the language? It's the teachers that needs fixing, not changing the medium of language the subject is being taught.
How are our children supposed to get used to any language if they keep changing their minds because something is not working out? Don't change the system, better it. Find out the root problem and deal with it.
How can they compare us to Japan or Korea? The population in both of these countries comprise of one race. We are of mix races and languages. Ah Tan speaks Mandarin at home, Mahmud speaks Malay, Doud speaks Kadazan, Margaret speaks English, Nooi speaks Cantonese, Raja speaks Tamil and the list goes on.
My children can be taught in Bahasa, Mandarin or English. At the end of the day, they have to take their exams in English to receive their diploma or degree.
How are our children supposed to get used to any language if they keep changing their minds because something is not working out? Don't change the system, better it. Find out the root problem and deal with it.
How can they compare us to Japan or Korea? The population in both of these countries comprise of one race. We are of mix races and languages. Ah Tan speaks Mandarin at home, Mahmud speaks Malay, Doud speaks Kadazan, Margaret speaks English, Nooi speaks Cantonese, Raja speaks Tamil and the list goes on.
My children can be taught in Bahasa, Mandarin or English. At the end of the day, they have to take their exams in English to receive their diploma or degree.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Pornography
World wide web, cool................ information at your finger tips. I do my research without having to go to the library. I shop without leaving my home and I touch bases with my friends, all with a click of a button YET how scary it is to know that my children are in danger of being defiled by PORNOGRAPHY.
I was told recently that a family, father, mother, sons and daughters will watch pornography together without a second thought. It's like watching a movie, they said. No problem.
Call me old fashion, call me a prude but I wouldn't even watch pornography in private, let alone, watch it with my kids. What is the world telling us? "It's ok lady, everyone's doing it!" Should we tell the "everyone" to jump off a bridge?
Do you know that a large majority of people from all walks of life and ages are addicted to pornography? Some started watching out of curiosity realizing too late that they can't stop and some just do it because everyone's watching it so "I don't want to be left out".
Remember Ted Bundy? He killed his victims and had sex with the corpse. Before his execution, he wanted to warn people of the danger of pornography. He spoke to Dr. James Dobson so that his story can be documented and shared with the world. Ted Bundy suffered from Necrophilia due to his early encounter with pornography.
Folks, we can all say, "It will not happen to me or my children" but how sure are we? Do we really know what our kids do? Computers are so easily accessible. We allow our kids to have it in their rooms. How sure are we, they do not search the net out of curiosity? If you know of any one who needs help, please call 03-5630 0217, 013-352 3501 or visit www.pureintimacy.org.
I was told recently that a family, father, mother, sons and daughters will watch pornography together without a second thought. It's like watching a movie, they said. No problem.
Call me old fashion, call me a prude but I wouldn't even watch pornography in private, let alone, watch it with my kids. What is the world telling us? "It's ok lady, everyone's doing it!" Should we tell the "everyone" to jump off a bridge?
Do you know that a large majority of people from all walks of life and ages are addicted to pornography? Some started watching out of curiosity realizing too late that they can't stop and some just do it because everyone's watching it so "I don't want to be left out".
Remember Ted Bundy? He killed his victims and had sex with the corpse. Before his execution, he wanted to warn people of the danger of pornography. He spoke to Dr. James Dobson so that his story can be documented and shared with the world. Ted Bundy suffered from Necrophilia due to his early encounter with pornography.
Folks, we can all say, "It will not happen to me or my children" but how sure are we? Do we really know what our kids do? Computers are so easily accessible. We allow our kids to have it in their rooms. How sure are we, they do not search the net out of curiosity? If you know of any one who needs help, please call 03-5630 0217, 013-352 3501 or visit www.pureintimacy.org.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Why a woman cry.
This beautiful description of why a woman cry just touched my heart. How true it is because women are stronger than we give them credit for. There are women who are beaten everyday, there are women who are forced into doing things they don't want to do and there are women who are the envy of every other woman but is suffering in silence. I pray for my daughters, I pray for your daughters, I pray for my son and yours too. Children of today has to live in a world we either break or make for them.
Why a woman cry.
A little boy asked his mother , 'Why are you crying?' 'Because I'm a woman , ' she told him.
'I don't understand , ' he said. His Mom just hugged him and said , 'And you never will.'
Later the little boy asked his father , 'Why does mother seem to cry for no reason?'
'All women cry for no reason , ' was all his dad could say.
The little boy grew up an d became a man , still wondering why women cry.
Finally he put in a call to God. When God got on the phone , he asked , 'God , why do women cry so easily?'
God said:
'When I made the woman she had to be special.
I made her shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of the world ,
yet gentle enough to give comfort
I gave her an inner strength to endure childbirth and the rejection that many times comes from her children.
I gave her a hardness that allows her to keep going when everyone else gives up , and take care of her family through sickness and fatigue with out complaining.
I gave her the sensitivity to love her children under any and all circumstances , even when her child has hurt her very badly.
I gave her strength to carry her husband through his faults and fashioned her from his rib to protect his heart.
I gave her wisdom to know that a good husband never hurts his wife , but sometimes tests her strengths and her resolve to stand beside him unfalteringly.
And finally , I gave her a tear to shed. This is hers exclusively to use whenever it is needed.'
'You see my son , ' said God , 'the beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears , the figure that she carries , or the way she combs her hair.
The beauty of a woman must be seen in her eyes , because that is the doorway to her heart - the place where love resides.'
Monday, August 18, 2008
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Why am I blogging?
"Do you have time for this Mum?", asked my eldest daughter. NO but I have to make time. When I read the newspaper today, I got upset by the situation in Permatang Pauh. Who is right? Who is wrong? Is it truly a Pakatan member holding the flag who is beating up the newsmen or is it an opposition member in disguise? We will never know. We thought after March 8th, things will improve but is it? Why are people making it difficult for others to work and help the country?
Why am I blogging?
I am blogging because I am frustrated with what is happening in the country.
I am blogging because I am concern for my children's future.
I am blogging because the moral decline in the country is happening rapidly.
I am blogging because I want to be heard .
I am blogging because I want other mothers (fathers are welcome too) like me, to share their concerns, support each other and maybe learn from one another.
I am blogging because I am not a Malay, Chinese, Indian or lain-lain.
I am blogging because I AM A MALAYSIAN!
Why am I blogging?
I am blogging because I am frustrated with what is happening in the country.
I am blogging because I am concern for my children's future.
I am blogging because the moral decline in the country is happening rapidly.
I am blogging because I want to be heard .
I am blogging because I want other mothers (fathers are welcome too) like me, to share their concerns, support each other and maybe learn from one another.
I am blogging because I am not a Malay, Chinese, Indian or lain-lain.
I am blogging because I AM A MALAYSIAN!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)