Having gone through a traumatic experience at the dentist’s with her toddler, Uma is suitably chastened with new dental hygiene routines.
I’m part of a Facebook group in which mothers from Malaysia and Singapore post questions or share experiences, though I’m mostly a lurker who enjoys the breadth of responses on it.
I’ve had countless moments where I’ve paused and thought to myself, “Well that’s something I’d certainly do differently next time.” Here’s a list in a roughly chronological order.
My husband and I were occupied with our own tasks, when suddenly we heard Alex, in a moment of frustration, exclaim: “MOTHERSUGAR!!” I glared at my husband, who smiled sheepishly at me.
Isn’t your relationship with your child one of the most important relationships of all? Don’t we want to present them with our more authentic selves, good and bad, to have a more genuine, grounded relationship with them?
We always had an excuse to put it off a little more. Because, of all the things to be experienced in this adventure of being a parent, potty training was the thing I dreaded the most.
A miscarriage is such a private loss. It’s deliberate, of course, this first trimester secret, just in case. But that also means you mourn alone, and that is a very lonely place to be.
What is bedtime with a three-year-old? A 15-minute routine of bath, book and bed? Or an hour and a half long bath, TV, book and song extravaganza to persuade the three-year-old that it’s time for bed?
Tossing about the pros and cons of electronic babysitters when you’re out and about with your toddler.
Even though I’ve lived abroad since my late teens, I’ve always been proud to introduce myself as Malaysian, and still consider Malaysia home. So when I became pregnant, I looked into obtaining Malaysian citizenship for my son.