华盛顿 、树、乌龟

你的孩子有说谎吗?我相信这必定是很多父母都担忧的事。

好几个星期前，有一天恺文打电话到我办公室，对我说家里的乌龟有一只病死了。我想想早上出门前，三只乌龟还是好好的，怎么会有一只突然“暴毙”呢?心里顿然觉得事有跷蹊。

下班回到家，把恺文叫来，轻巧地盘问一番。一份父亲的第六感告诉我，他在掩饰。

“恺文，不可以讲骗话喔。”

他看看我，顿了一顿，说:“如果我说真话，你会生气骂我吗?”

“当然不会。我只会生气你说谎。”跟着再说了一遍“华盛顿砍樱桃树”的故事。(真讽刺，这个故事教导人要诚实，可是它本身却是一个谎话，一个杜撰的故事。)

他和盘拖出。原来他一时贪玩，把一只乌龟放进马桶里，怎么料到乌龟一时看不开，突然钻进洞内“自杀”，饮恨马桶，随水而去。

(我一面听一面忍住笑。这小孩有时真会做一些啼笑皆非的事儿。还记得他很小的时候，有一天竟然把一块大面包往自己的脸上贴，为的只是要比比到底是他的头大还是面包大！)

后来，我就去买了一只乌龟回来。(图中最小只的就是它。)

小孩说谎，往往是怕说实话后会被责骂或被打。如要处理这种情况，我觉得首要是要得到孩子的信任，其次是要注意孩子平时的行为和举止。这样，如果孩子有些不寻常的言行举动，也不能逃过你的法眼。而当你责问他时，他也更可能会如实相报。

当然，做长辈的，也得言行一致，为孩子做个好榜样。

Washington, the Cherry Tree, and the Terrapin

A couple of weeks ago Cowen called me at my office breaking the news that one of our terrapins had died from illness. I thought it sounded bizzare, as the three terrapins looked perfectly healthy in the morning before I left for work.

When I reached home and asked Cowen to explain the whole incident, he did so, but I wasn't convinced. Something inside me told me that he wasn't telling the truth, so I said: "Cowen, you should not lie."

He looked at me, and said, "If I tell you the truth, will you scold me?"

I related the favourite story of George Washington and the Cherry Tree to him, a story I told him before. "I won't scold you if you speak the truth. But if you tell lie, I will be angry."

(But what an irony. The "Washington and the Cherry Tree" episode, a tale told to celebtrate the virtue of honesty, is but an apocryphal story.)

So he told me the truth. He had put one of the terrapins into the toilet bowl to play, not expecting it to wander its way into the hole and disappear thereafter.

(I almost couldn't resist laughing as I listened to his story unfold. What a comical antic. It almost matches in hilarity one of his other antics, once when he slammed a bread onto his own face when he was a toddler, just to check whether the bread or his face was bigger.)

In the end, I went to get a replacement. (The smallest terrapin in the photo is it.)

Aaron
20 Dec 2009

Uneventful day is not a bad thing

It has been four months since the incident. Over the past four months, it seemed like most of my energy has been sapped, with hardly any left for other aspects of my life, such as work and guiding Cowen. During this period, I fell sick twice, both for quite a prolonged duration, hence draining even more energy off the already debilitated body. In the past, I could offer 100% of myself in class, immersing myself totally in my lecture, but in the semester that is just over, I must admit that I might have given only 70%.

Reading Lee Wei Ling's article "Uneventful day is not a bad thing" in her ST column struck a chord in me, especially in her concluding paragraphs:

Time is indeed a great healer. For example, my mother's stroke on May 12 last year made me feel like my world had been turned upside down. But over the months, I have been able to accept her disabilities and carry on with life as normally as possible, although when I am with her, I still feel a sense of sadness.

A day passed without something memorable is a day passed without a major disaster or triumph. It is not a bad thing not to have too many memorable days.

We share the same pain as both our mothers suffered a stroke. For me, accepting my mom's disabilities would probably take longer, as I am nowhere as resilient as the doctor.

The day my mom was discharged from her second hospitalisation, it was indeed an eventful day as, apart from all the waiting, a nurse removed my mom's urine catheter by mistake! In the end, they had to re-insert another one. Moreoever, when we reached home, I discovered a new wound on her back under the old one, which had nearly healed.

Though back home after her second hospitalisation, we have lost some ground we gained earlier. She used to be able to utter a word or two, but now she has not spoken a word since her discharge.

I do hope for an eventful day, the day when she can speak, even for just a word or two.

Aaron
20 December 2009

My own composed song

Hi everyone,I have composed my own song. When my father heard the song, he said it was nice. He then helped me to write down the score. I tried thinking of a title but I don't know what title is suitable for the song. So, today I'm going to my Yamaha class to play for everyone so that my teacher will tell me what title is suitable for my song.

Back to the hospital

Cowen and I barely walked out of the our block on our way to the polyclinic this morning at about 9am as Cowen was feeling a little unwell, when I received a call from Jovelyn, our domestic helper, that mom acted strangely -- her arms were shaking and she made strange noises. We quickly turned back.

Mom wasn't looking good. She wasn't responding to me and she couldn't focus her eyes on me when I asked her to do so. Recognising that as a possible sign of a stroke or an impending stroke, I called the ambulance immediately.

This is the second time in less than four months I found myself at the A&E of TTSH. Coincidentally, on both occasions Cowen was by my side, and on both occasions the boy wasn't feeling very well.

They put mom in a normal ward. I noticed that her eyes were somewhat fixated to her right. The comforting thing is that she could now respond to me, and looked much better than in the morning. I left mom to the care of Jovelyn as I needed to conduct a meeting back in office.

I went back to TTSH in the afternoon. Mom's condition seemed to have stabilised. She has regained movement in her right arm, but lost the mobility of her weaker left arm. She was able to roll her eyes a bit now, but still unable to roll them to her left. She has also regained her responsiveness.

She was put on a no-food diet as she needs to undergo a blood test tomorrow. I have to wait for the scan result.

I couldn't stay long as I had to bring Cowen to his music lesson. After the lesson I checked with Jovelyn and I was told mom has also regained a bit of the movement of her right leg.

One of my friends said this is like "three steps forwards, two steps back". I just have to resign to the fact that previous stroke victims are more susceptible to stroke.

Things have been looking up over the past few weeks until today. I harboured high hope that mom is on her way to recovery, though I recognise that it could not be hurried. Now, I'm more frightened than ever. No matter how hard you try, you just never know what will happen next.

Is this what they call the trial of resilience? A test on your adversity quotient?

I said to mom by her ears, if this is some kind of challenge she has to face, we will face it together.

Aaron