Give them roots and wings

This morning Samuel woke up at 6am, on his own. He changed into his uniform, washed up and prepared his writing materials by using just a torchlight. When I walked to him, he told me in all seriousness his plan for the two bags – the first bag for today, and the items in the second to be transferred into the first bag, for tomorrow.

The teachers gave them many gifts, as encouragement.
So now he is very well-equipped.
(I see three correction tapes inside, with at least two refills).
I am not sure whether I should be happy or worried…

I asked him whether he was prepared for his exams, and he told me about what his teacher has been teaching them. “One topic, two questions, three pictures“. Then he quickly went to his bag and pulled out his notes to show me.

Did you spot the spelling mistake? “Revice”.
Isn’t that quite typical of parents – to easily see the imperfections.
I saw it immediately.
I pointed it out to him, weakly,
because I didn’t really want to discourage him,
on the morning of his English paper.
Actually I should probably have kept quiet,
but I could not stop myself
(The voice in my head says “What if he needs to spell it later?!)

Apparently he took notes, when the teacher was going through revision with the class. “To help myself lah”, he said to Daddy, who was preparing to go to work. We both felt so proud of him.

Recently, I heard this beautiful story about dancing with God. When we dance with Him, our eyes are to be fixed on Him. We do not look at our feet as that would mess things up. We just look into His eyes, and His face and let him lead us in the dance. As we dance on, and before we know it, He would have brought us to a whole new part of the ballroom.

This is how I am feeling now, with Samuel. I went back to read some of my old posts, and I came to this one – Love my child – make him strong, when he was 5 years old.

I am immensely proud of Samuel.  I want to tell his Berries teacher, that Samuel knows his work, and that came with hours of hard, painful work for him.  I want to ask her – whether she can give Samuel more time to read, so he can prove to her that he can read.  She might be understanding and agree.  She might say that she has no time, or that the children are expected to read faster, and ‘maybe, you can teach him more at home’.

It does not matter very much how she will react, because I know what the rest of the world will expect from Samuel when he grows up.

However, it is not my job to grieve over how much harder my child has to work compared to other children just to achieve the same result, nor how discouraged he might get if he constantly gets poor assessments compared to his peers.

It is my job to make my child strong.  So instead of crying when he came back with only one sticker, I simply said to him:”It’s ok, we will try harder for the next lesson.”

I cried and cried when I read what I wrote.

Because true enough, many times in the years after, Samuel wept, heart-broken and discouraged about all the things he could not do. It happened very often this year. One time he said, “It feels like I have been wasting all my time, that all the work I have done for 8 years, is no use, it’s all wasted!” I cried together with him. I could identify with his disappointment, as there are things in my life which I could not do, no matter how hard I worked. Like him, I wanted so much to do it, and I put in so much effort, but still, I could not do it.

I was not angry with God, or myself/himself for our inability, but I felt very, very sad… for him, and for myself.

Another time he said this “I try to cheer myself up, but it seems like all my methods are not working. I don’t know what to do!” (Subsequently I referred him to the school counsellor. It helped. She gave him ideas for relieving stress. He felt much better after that).

Samuel got himself a fidget cube.
I thought it is such a wonderful invention!
I love it myself. It is an adult baby toy.

There was another post which I wrote, just when he started P1 – With the much you have been given. At that time, I was tempted to put him in Foundation stream immediately. I wanted to put him on an easier path, instead of the normal class, so he does not need to be told, again and again, that he has “missed the mark” – unable to complete his homework and failing all his tests/exams. In short, I wanted to escape, together with him, to a kinder and easier place (so I felt that it would be).

I did not, because there was no such option. Samuel and I did the only thing we knew to do – which was to work hard, every day, for hours, to learn to read, to do maths, to do science, to do work with my help and then to do work independently. Up till just about a few months ago, his days were filled with doing his homework, followed by coaching by me.

Despite that, and although he received the “Most improved award” for two years, he struggled to pass all his subjects at every exam. He did improve, over the years, but each mark was obtained as a mountain-climber clawing his way up with his bare fingers, and a painful crawl to the next milestone.

But we continued to dance together. “Look at mummy, Samuel. Listen to me. I love you. You are doing well.”

This is the school study corner,
where we spent many hours together.
For the previous 3 years, I would go into the school 2-3 times a week
to teach him for 30 – 90 minutes each time, during his MT lessons.
This year, I went in once a week,
for 90 minutes each.
I became familiar with the fan and light switches (which ones to turn on).
It has also become a habit for us to eat a snack together (the toast bread is very good!)
It is just outside the staff room, so I had many “Parent-teacher- conferences” there too.
I will miss this place.

In recent weeks, Samuel has been feeling a lot of anxiety.
So we all but stopped his revision,
and spent a lot of time having fun.
We go cycling to the park and enjoy breakfast together;
we go to the cafe for a good lunch and some games;
we play with his brothers.

Without knowing how, we have arrived at a new part of the ballroom – a place we never knew we could get to for him, and a place I did not know exist for me.

He did not need to go into the Foundation stream. He is on track with his class – following all that his teacher is teaching, and his class is doing. He completes all his homework. He knows how to make his own notes, and get himself ready for school and exams. He walked into school today, cheery and confident. He still loves studying, learning and going to school.

This is also a major milestone for me. My life went onto a totally different track when we realised that Samuel had learning difficulties. I gave up my career to be a stay-at-home-mum. My life, to a large extent revolved around him, and was in turn, shaped by my experience with him. I chose to do work which made me a better coach for him, and my experience in coaching him led me into working with other children and their families.

We danced, as individuals and together, and both arrived at a new place of our lives.

Samuel is particularly mature this year. His brother at times upset me. Samuel would try, with no avail, to defend and protect me.

So he would come to me, give me a big hug, and ask whether I was alright. “I am concern about you”. There was a time when I was feeling moody. When I told him that I was alright, he refused to believe me. “You are not alright! I can see it! When you tell me you are alright, are you lying to me?” So I had to admit that yes, I was feeling down. Then he insisted that I tell him why, because “you (i.e. me, the tyrant mother) always make me tell you what is wrong!” So I did, very briefly and in a reduced form. He listened and looked back at me with a helpless and sad look “I knew it, I knew you were not alright”. I felt so sorry for him. It was a difficult day for us both.

But we made it through that stormy day together. More importantly, I realised that he is learning to become my leader in the dance. He wants to lead me through my sadness and discouragement, the way he saw me lead him through his.

Today a friend sent me this quote.

A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.—J. A. Shedd

I guess my ship is ready to sail.

Thank You God, for dancing with us, and teaching us how to dance. It is the end, but it is also a beginning. The music plays on, and we dance on.