by You Jin
He had a square head, large face, round tummy, and chubby body. His cry was loud and strong. As I looked at him, my eyes softened. He really was beautiful, this little baby. I smiled through my tears.
It was 7 May 1982. Following the wish of my late father-in-law, we named our second boy Lim Fung Teck. He weighed three and a half kilogrammes when he was born.
When my mother-in-law arrived at the hospital and carried the chubby little guy, she laughed and said, “I knew early on that it would be a boy. The night before you delivered, I dreamt of him. It’s strange, but the baby in that dream looked exactly like this one. I still remember clearly that it was like his eyes were always full of laughter.”
I stayed at Mt Elizabeth Hospital for four days before going home. I only had a week before I needed to sit for my exams.
Nanny
The strong, sharp cries cut through the air like a knife, shattering the silence. My mother-in-law was in the kitchen making my lunch. The thick aroma of shredded ginger with chicken wine soup wafted enticingly from the kitchen.
My course materials before me, I worked hard to digest stiff educational theories. But the piercing cries of my newborn son made my mind a chaotic mess.
Sighing, I stood and prepared milk for him. This boy’s appetite was shocking. He could drain a bottle of milk dry in a jiffy. As I looked into his eyes, alight with pleasure as he drank, genetics came to mind.
According to my own mother, I had an unimaginably huge appetite as a baby. After drinking two big bottles of milk one after the other, I would still cry wildly. Sometimes, it would take three whole bottles before I would fall asleep. When I grew up, I had a very keen sense of taste and smell, and fine food became an important part of my life. Now, as I looked at the way Fung Teck ate, I thought, Some parts of my personality have clearly been passed on to him.
Sometimes he cried when he’d had enough sleep, so I picked him up and put him on my knee. I wore a sarong of very soft fabric, which kept him comfortable. After a few minutes he fell asleep again, his little breath smelling of sweet milk. I was frantically trying to cram my studies at the last minute, and when the pages of the book turned, the thick smell of ink surrounded me.
A week later, I sat for my exams. I passed each subject without a hitch.
After my exams, I formally commenced my confinement and enjoyed all the benefits that came with it. I ate well, drank well and slept well. But while I was enjoying the closeness with my baby as we spent all day and night together, there was one issue that troubled me—the question of who would care for the infant.
My mother-in-law loved to care for children, but I did not want to endure the torture of being separated from my son again. The childcare centre I trusted did not accept children below two years old. And I certainly was not willing to let someone whose background I did not know care for the child.
While I was wrestling with this question, I received a call from a friend. She came straight to the point and asked me, “Do you want to find a reliable nanny to care for the child?”
I replied honestly, “I’ve been agonising over this exact issue!”
She said enthusiastically, “I have someone who is really attentive, caring and patient. She’s cared for little ones for a long time, and has a lot of experience. Do you want to meet her?”
The woman she introduced was called Auntie Shi; those close to her just called her Nanny. Two years earlier, my friend had employed Auntie Shi to look after her newborn daughter. Now that the child was two, the plan was to send her to childcare. Because my friend’s relationship with Auntie Shi was quite good, and she knew Auntie Shi was a responsible person, she wanted to introduce us to each other.
That night, James and I went to visit her. She lived in a threeroom HDB flat in Tanglin. She had a lot of things in the house, but it was all kept neatly, and the place was immaculate. The air was fresh and clean.
Auntie Shi was in her forties with extraordinarily big eyes, like an owl. Her expression radiated kindness. She had long arms and legs, and she moved quickly. She was clearly efficient and capable.
Mr Shi was thin, but stout. His eyes were small, but his teeth were large and sparkling white. He did not speak much, and his words were always preceded by a huge smile. He had the look of a typical good man.
Their two sons and daughter were well-behaved and polite. They were obviously taught well at home. It seemed Fung Teck would be in good hands here, and that I would be worry-free. Without further hesitation, I made a decision.
We agreed that Fung Teck would come to Auntie Shi’s when he had reached his first month. We would pay four hundred dollars a month, and would supply the milk powder, diapers, and clothes. When the baby started eating porridge, we would top up with a food allowance. He would stay with her on weekdays, then spend the weekends with us. I would send him back to Auntie Shi’s on Sunday night.
When all the arrangements had been made, I felt as if a huge burden had been lifted from my heart. Many people do not understand this arrangement I made, finding it unacceptable. I had a helper to take care of the housework, my older boy was in childcare, and my younger child was looked after in someone else’s home, so costs were not low. In fact, in those days, for that price, I could have had three foreign domestic helpers, making things quite comfortable for the kids and me at home, but I chose this much more convoluted, difficult option.
Only a fish knows the joy of swimming in its pool. For me, this arrangement had numerous pros and no cons. Primarily, I did not have to worry about a domestic helper threatening to quit in order to demand for higher pay. Further, I did not have to be constantly worried that my children might be abused. In addition I could protect my own privacy, since I did not have a stranger living in my home. Finally, this unique living situation would foster a spirit of independence in my children. The outcome has proven that my view and methods were correct.
After Fung Teck was a month old, I sent him to Auntie Shi’s. In June 1982, the Ministry of Education posted me to Hua Yi Secondary School to teach. This was a whole new chapter of my life.
Two Brothers
I remember quite clearly once, while we were living in Saudi Arabia, I almost got myself in big trouble due to carelessness. It happened when Fung Yee was two.
A friend brought her two-year-old daughter Wan Wan, to visit. Wan Wan was sleepy, so I let her lie on Fung Yee’s bed. Knowing that my friend liked to eat durian cake, I cut a few slices and put them on a plate, and the two of us sat in the living room, chatting over our snack. Before long, Fung Yee walked over and reached out for a piece of durian cake. “Take your time. Don’t choke on it,” I said.
He took a piece of the cake and went into his room. A moment later, we heard a dull scream from the room. My friend and I leapt up and rushed to the room. What I saw there made me cry out. My hyperactive little Fung Yee had taken the durian cake and was forcing it into the sleeping Wan Wan’s mouth! As he forced it on her, she turned her head first one way, then the other, emitting a series of muffled cries. My friend shot to the bedside, pulled Fung Yee aside, and scooped her daughter up. Wan Wan, frightened out of her wits, broke into loud cries. My friend’s whole face had turned green with the shock of it. What if…what if Fung Yee had successfully forced the durian cake into Wan Wan’s throat? I did not dare imagine what the outcome would have been.
This incident was like a huge gecko entrenched in my memory. It did not bite, but every time I thought of it, I could not help shuddering. It was this dark memory that led me to make mistakes in managing the relationship between my two sons.
When Fung Teck was born, Fung Yee was five years old. I never let Fung Yee touch his brother during the period he was in swaddling clothes, not even allowing him to hug or kiss the baby. My only thought was for the protection of the infant, who was as fragile as crystal and as gentle as a rose petal. But I never imagined that this sort of irrational treatment was like dividing the brothers up with a thick glass, ultimately killing Fung Yee’s joy an
d pride of being a big brother, and also robbing Fung Teck of the chance to enjoy his brother’s affection.
Every weekend when I brought Fung Teck home from the nanny’s, Fung Yee always looked at him with a detached expression, as if he were an alien.
Once, Fung Teck’s thigh was burned by a bit of hot water at the nanny’s house. When I got the phone call, I swept through the house like a storm, saying, “Fung Yee, your brother’s been hurt. Hurry! Get in the car! We’re going to the hospital.”
He sat mutely on the sofa, eyes glued to a Superman movie.
I yelled angrily, “Hey! Turn off the TV. Do you hear me?”
He yelled back, “I don’t want to go to the hospital! I want to watch TV!”
Furious, I turned off the television. He burst into tears. As he cried, he said, “My brother isn’t Superman! He can’t fly. Why should I go see him?”
Anger was added to my anxiety. I raised my hand and slapped him. Tears welled in his eyes as he grudgingly got into the car.
That night, I told him a story about two brothers, Cao Pi and Cao Zhi:
Cao Pi and Cao Zhi were Cao Cao’s sons. After Cao Cao died, his throne went to Cao Pi. Cao Pi had always been jealous of Cao Zhi’s outstanding talents, and wanted to get rid of him. Once, he finally found an excuse to have him arrested, planning to have him executed. When the empress dowager learned of this, she went to plead on Cao Zhi’s behalf. Cao Pi said that, if Cao Zhi could compose a poem in the time it took him to walk seven paces, he would be spared. Cao Zhi thought for a moment then, elegantly took a step. As he took a step, he would recite a line. The poem, Seven Pace Song, was composed at lightning speed. It read:
Beans boil over kindling beans
Those in the pot cry
“We grew from the same stalk.
Why are you so eager to fry us?”
When Cao Pi heard this, he felt that he had been unjust to his own brother. Filled with regret, he rescinded Cao Zhi’s death sentence.
After telling the story, I explained what the poem meant, but telling this to a seven-year-old boy was as good as casting pearls before swine: it had no effect at all. Fung Yee even had the impudence to say, “Mama, I want to eat that kind of bean.”
In that instant, I felt like a failure.
Another time, I was chatting with my mother-in-law, who was always doting on him. She said that once, while the boys were spending the school holiday in Ipoh with her, he had been quite naughty. “One afternoon, I couldn’t find Fung Teck. I ran about looking for him for a long time, but I just couldn’t find him. It scared me half to death. After a while, I discovered that Fung Yee had locked him in the abandoned kennel behind the house!”
“The kennel?” I wrinkled my brow and said angrily, “Are you telling me he was locked in the dog house?”
“Yes.” She laughed and shook her head. “Fung Yee was playing a game with him and locked him in the dog house, then he went in and sat in the living room and watched TV. Fung Teck was so innocent, he just squatted in the dirty dog house obediently. He was trying so hard not to cry that when we got him out, his face was as red as a tomato.”
“So how did you punish Fung Yee?” I asked.
“Which child on earth is not a little naughty?” my mother-inlaw said, blind love written all over her face. “Naughty children are clever. Anyway, he just forgot—it isn’t like he did it on purpose. Why should I punish him for that?”
Another incident happened some time later that made me realise how serious the problem was. On this occasion, the two brothers were fighting about something. They both ran to me, looking for justice. To be fair, I did not want to listen to their defence but only wanted to settle on an amicable solution.
I asked them to stand facing each other. The seven-year-old was tall and skinny, and the two-year-old short and chubby. The taller one looked down at his little brother, who stared back up at him. I wanted them to shake hands and say to each other, “I love you”. Then, I wanted them to hug each other.
What alarmed me was that, after they hugged, little Fung Teck unexpectedly started crying his lungs out. The sound of his cries was like a sharp object grinding on glass, so sharp it hurt the ears.
I was really angry. The whole situation could have easily been settled in a friendly manner with a hug and kind words. Tossing his loud wailing into the scene was like finding smelly rat excrement mixed in with a pot of simmering, flavourful porridge, spoiling everything.
I pointed to a corner of the balcony and said, “You go stand there for ten minutes.”
I often used Time Out as a form of punishment. For a little boy who could hardly stand to sit still for a single minute, this was cruel punishment. Fung Teck stood all alone in the corner, but had no intention of stopping. He kept sobbing. As he continued weeping, it added fuel to my anger. I increased his sentence. “Twenty minutes!”
That night when I was bathing Fung Teck, I learned the truth about what had happened. His shoulder had two rows of teeth marks, like a bullet-swept wall.
He said, “Fung Yee bit me.”
His brother had taken their hug as an opportunity to viciously bite his shoulder. Tears came to my eyes.
I realised that, were I to punish Fung Yee in a fit of anger now, it would just add to the resentment, further souring the relationship between the two boys. The best strategy was to help them bury the hatchet without being detected.
I told Fung Teck gently, “He didn’t do it on purpose. Don’t be angry with him.”
Good as he was, he simply nodded obediently.
I thought of the cakes I had just bought. I said intentionally, “Your brother left two coconut cakes for you in the cupboard. Do you want to eat those?”
He nodded again, his chubby face lighting up with a smile.
Later, I said to Fung Yee, “When you kissed your brother earlier, you were a little too rough. There are teeth marks on his shoulder.”
He did not say anything for a moment. Then he finally said, “I’m sorry, Mama!”
After this, for a long period of time, I schemed to embed a lot of white lies, without being detected, into our daily living, creating gratitude between the boys and bringing them closer together. This produced instant favourable results.
Actually, for a lot of quarrels between brothers or resentment between sisters, parents are the chief culprits, and favouritism is the root of the problem. Long-term favouritism will create an imbalance between siblings. The favoured sibling will be swollen with arrogance, while the one out of favour will conceive mischief, and as time passes, the siblings will grow further and further apart. It is unfortunate that many parents are unaware of this, and when they finally realise the problem, it is too late.
When tensions between siblings arise, there are three attitudes a parent should adopt: a listening attitude, an understanding attitude, and a loving, forgiving attitude. What we should most abstain from is unreasonably shielding any one party, or not giving them a chance to complain or defend themselves before forcing them to shake hands and reconcile. If they are not allowed to voice their discontentment, left within them, these feelings may decay and turn toxic, causing the child to vent them through destructive channels.
A lot of times, parents should act dumb. Children have their own world, and their own way of resolving conflicts. Parents should not just step in offering mandates from above at the slightest sign of trouble. Sometimes, coerced meddling may result in negative effects, and any mistaken judgements can cause irreparable rifts.
According to the traditional view, whatever conflict happens, no matter who is right and who is wrong, the older child should give way to the younger. Even when the younger sibling is being deliberately provocative, the older one should not retaliate, just because he is older. But in fact, this approach to educating children is clearly mistaken, and in a huge way. Whatever conflict arises between two siblings, parents should not blindly use age as a standard to judge. If they do, in the long run, it is like planting a land mi
ne in the heart of the older child, which may explode suddenly one day. At the same time, parents should constantly instil in their kids the concept of respect for seniority. The older child should love the younger, and the younger child should respect the elder.
With this new knowledge, my life became much more relaxed. Not only that, but my mental tension was greatly relieved too.
One day, I heard Fung Teck crying his lungs out in the room next door. I looked in on the boys, and saw them fighting over a toy police car. If I were to follow the course of action I had always relied on before, I would scold the older brother, snatch the car out of his hands and give it to the younger. But not now. I just kept quiet to see how the situation would develop.
After crying for a few minutes, Fung Teck saw that no one was coming to his rescue, gave up, and stopped crying. Picking up a truck from the floor, he pushed it about the floor, happily imitating the sound of a running engine. Seeing this, Fung Yee said, “Hey, let’s race!”
As he spoke, he gave his police car a great push, and it shot across the floor. A huge smile appeared on Fung Teck’s tear-streaked face. He pushed his truck clumsily along the floor. The truck sauntered along, like the tortoise racing the hare.
The conflict vanished into thin air, just like that. Standing outside the door looking on, I could not help but smile.
Today, the two brothers are grown men, and they love each other deeply. They enjoy endless discussions about serious topics, and also share lighthearted jokes about the trivial matters of life. They also play sports, shop, and watch movies together, just like twins.
CHAPTER 5
A Dream Come True
Making a Wish
LIFE IS NOT as simple an equation as “one plus one equals two”, and it cannot be taken for granted that adding one happy event to another will result in more happiness. In 1984, I experienced the polar extremes of “a dream come true” and “a tormenting sorrow” at the same time. What was strangest was that the two emotions, which were worlds apart, were triggered by a single event. I first flew to the peak of joy, then plunged to the abyss of sorrow, and it nearly cost me my life. It is fair to say that this was the biggest crisis of my life, and if I had not got over this hurdle, it would have been the end of me.