.::. Childhood .::.

That day, we had one of those conversations about our childhood.  Apt isn't it, now that we're going to be parents who will determine what kind of childhood our child has.

I don't talk about my childhood much, those weren't times that I would like to remember, but it made me who I am today.  Those years had pretty dark times when I struggled. I was a very unhappy child.  No doubt I had happy days, but there were so many moments deeply entrenched in my memories that still give me tinge of sadness when I think about it.

When I was very young, I liked to talk to my mum and told her everything.  I was very talkertive and kept at it non-stop even when lights were out.  She always asked me to stop and go to bed, and I was always upset about it.  I hated it when she compares me to her friends' children or some neighbor's children, she always did that.  Someone's child was always better and more obedient than I was.  I still remember this girl from kindergarten who's my mum's colleague's daughter, she's called Yun Qian, and I really disliked her.

Then there were the times when my mum would always blame us for our existence and express her regret for having us.  Mums have no idea how unwanted and unloved that makes one feel.  I remembered being really upset and there were times when I threatened to jump down the building and commit suicide.  I also constantly told my parents that I will move out as soon as I could and would send them to an old folks' home because I really didn't want to see them.  Some days, I got so upset that I rolled and screamed on the floor, dashed out of the house with my bike to release some of these anguish.  I had so much pent-up anger and wrote in my diaries simply because I knew that my mum reads all of it.

I remembered that I was overjoyed when I got 99 marks for an exam and came home to share the joy with my parents.  I was top in class and beaming with excitement.  My parents didn't share my joy nor give me any word of praise.  They asked me why didn't I get full marks and miss that one mark.  I was indignant and annoyed.  Then, I got full marks in another exam and came home in anticipation of what they would say.  They told me that I was lucky and that I'll not be able to do it again.  I was deeply upset and words couldn't quite explain the emotions I felt as a child then.  I was always scolded for reading storybooks, always nagged for not studying my textbooks instead.  I wonder if it was then that I somehow decided that being good was enough; that there wasn't any point in striving to be 'the best'.

I hated it when my mum complains and screams.  She does it all the time.  I still remember how fiercely she screamed, cursing and swearing because my dad didn't hang the clothes from the laundry.  I was taught to wrap all my books in plastic and iron my own pinafore, wash my own shoes when I went to primary one.  Just because my mum hates doing that.  She even got my dad to teach me how to tie shoe laces and insisted that she didn't know how to do it, just so she doesn't need to do it.

When my mum became a housewife, things became worst.  She never stopped complaining every single day, screaming and shouting, blaming everyone at home for everything.  It was terrible going home after a long day and it was so repulsive that one wouldn't want to hear her say anything much less help.  I never understood why didn't my mum find cooking for her children a joy.  I looked at other people's mums and can't help but question many things.  I never ever understood why one can complain so much and be so bitter for so long, blaming everyone else for their plight.

I've to say that the husband has brought so much happiness and contentment into my life, and I'm really thankful for that.  He has taught me love and patience, taught me kindness and how to give selflessly without expecting anything in return.  Taught me to see things that truly matters in life.

I will do everything in my ability to give my child a happy childhood and never make her feel like she's inadequate or not good enough.  She will not feel what I felt and she will be loved no matter what she does or do not do.

I enjoy doing housework and making our house a home.  I also enjoy cooking for my loved ones to see them smile.  I actually enjoy doing things for people I love, irregardless of whether or not I get anything in return.

I wish with all my heart that Jaime will have a childhood filled with fond memories that she can look back and smile. 

.::. Mothers' Day .::.

Technically, it was my first Mothers’ Day this year and it’s funny how people start wishing you ‘Happy Mothers’ Day’.  No, I don’t exactly feel like a mum yet, but I always envisioned what kind of mum I will be, or rather what kind of mother I hope to be. I don't agree that 'all mothers are the same', simply because they are all different.

I hope to accept my child as she is and love her unconditionally, regardless of her abilities and achievements. 

I hope to give her the best I can to nurture her and to inculcate the right values/skills.

I hope to give her a warm and loving family to come home to.

I hope that she will always feel secure and comfort at home.

I hope that she will be comfortable to confide in me and know that I will always listen.

I hope that she will never have to feel inadequate and insecure.

I hope that she will never have to hear me compare her to someone else better.

I hope that she will realize her strengths and accept her shortcomings.

I hope to put comfort food on the table where she can refuel after a long day.

I hope that she flourishes in the love of the husband and I, and find someone as wonderful as the husband.

I hope that she will never hear her parents screaming and cursing at each other.

I hope to be the mother that I always wished I had.

People always say that you'll understand your mum more when you have your own child.  I'm not sure about that. I never quite understood why my mum sometimes blame us for our existence and how we seem to be the cause of her misery.  I never understood why she never enjoyed making our house a home and complained incessantly over the years.  I never understood why she didn't enjoy cooking and doing housework for the family.  I never understood why she always compared us to other people's children and made us feel inadequate and not good enough for her love.  I never understood why she constantly pointed out our shortcomings and blamed us for everything under the sun, including falling sick.  Nothing seem to be enough, we were always too fat, too lazy, too everything.  I always envy people when they get to enjoy their mum's delicious home-cooked food.  My mum complains about my cooking when I spent the whole day cooking from scratch.

Tough love maybe.  I always felt that it's a miracle that I turned out mentally strong and being able to rise above these all.  For this, I have to be thankful.  I don't miss home nor the feeling at home where there's too much negativity.  I always looked forward to the day when I can have my own place.  When my mum first found out I was pregnant, she shared horror stories about pregnancy like how her friend had to be hospitalized and all - who tells a pregnant woman such things? And she said I was negative when I told her to stop sharing such negative things with me! 

Perhaps God is fair, and I'm thankful for what I have now.

I will keep these in mind, to remind myself not to put my child through all I've been through.