In less than four months’ time, little Doughnut will turn four. This tiny, 2.4kg of a parcel from the stork continues to drive me up the wall every day. But the little rock star in her never ceases to amaze me too. Here’s what I’ve learned so far from her:
 1. “Let me try”
Just 10 minutes ago, I could hear her Duplo building falling apart for the fifth or sixth time already. Sensing that a meltdown was about to erupt, I offered to help her stack them up again. Next thing I knew, her chubby palm smacked my hands and she gave me a stern look, “Mommy, baby try again!” Then it struck me hard: I should’ve let her try it again on her own. That I shouldn’t have intervened. I should’ve had more faith in her. Most of all, by helping her, I was actually depriving her of opportunities.
 2. “We’ll get there, eventually”
It took her more than three years to know how to drink from a straw. The day when she finally managed to do it, she had an ear-to-ear grin and an “I told you so” face. I felt like I had struck the lottery, the golden jackpot. And while she shortly and conveniently sprayed some tea onto my shirt with her new found skill, I realised, why was I worried? Why was I even comparing her with other kids? And why did she master drinking from a straw so quickly?
 3. “Let’s break some rules!”
With me having just returned to a full-time job, both Doughnut and I have had to make adjustments to our daily routines. While I was still amazed at how well she coped with all the sudden changes, she climbed up onto our bed one night without her favourite bedtime storybook in sight. Before I could even ask, she leaned her body on mine and said, “Mommy, let’s play ‘stay at home’ game tomorrow. Baby no school, Mommy no office. Mommy play with baby only.” The next day we both called in sick. We played and then cuddled to sleep.Â
 4. “My mommy is the best”
The hardest days of living far away from my own parents are during birthdays, special occasions and anniversaries. Some days just seem a lot harder and I miss being around my parents dearly. We Skype and call each other almost daily but it just feels different. I once told little Doughnut that I missed Popo (grandma). She came up to me and gave me a big hug and said, “Pretend I’m Popo, Mommy. I love you Lai San!” And then she attempted to pat me to sleep. Needless to say, I cried myself to (pretend) sleep. There’s just no one else like Mommy. Ever.
 5. “Mommy you don’t have to be perfect. Because I already am.”
And so every one of us tries to be a perfect mom. We do what is perceived as correct. We do what the majority of other moms have done and is proven to be better. We follow what parenting websites say because they make a lot of motherly sense. But our kids aren’t textbook kids. They respond very differently from what the books and websites say. Perhaps it’s really okay that we’re imperfect mothers. It actually doesn’t matter.
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Lai San is an ex-marketer living in Jakarta but her heart has never left KL. Mother to 3 years old Doughnut, she is close to a total cure of her OCD with a toddler to clean up after at home. When not stuck in a jam, she writes freelance as a cover up for her total inability to cook, bake or sew.
