A friend, who now lives in Amsterdam, was in town and the five of us got together for dinner. We hadn’t seen each other for a few years and we spent the evening catching up as well as reminiscing our good old days at university. Two of these friends live alone (not in a relationship either) while the other two have partners but no kids. At some point I wondered aloud what would have been my lifestyle if I hadn’t become a wife and a mother with three children. If I were still single, I am certain, I would still be living with my parents. I doubt I have the guts to live on my own; going home after work to an empty quiet place. Before I could muse further, both these women replied that if I had their kind of relationships with their mothers, I would relish the idea of living on my own.

We parted ways and once I got home, after spending a bit of time with my two older children (who were getting ready for bed), I decided to check my emails quickly. I thought the youngest (aged three and half years) could wait. While I was running through my emails, one of the women I had dinner with invited me to chat online. She wanted to talk about something she wasn’t comfortable to share earlier with the group.

Just then, my boy came up to me and said softly, “Give me a hug please.” Immediately I felt guilty for not putting him first. As I held him close, he whispered, “Thank you so much.” That touched me tremendously. When I shared it with my friend, she replied: “That’s what you don’t get when you live alone.”

I have given up working full time since having my daughter a decade ago. Sometimes I feel very sad when I see how much ahead my peers have gone ahead in their careers. To compensate for this, I try to find the little bits of joy from being with my children in their growing years. Five years ago, when my daughter learnt about occupations at kindy, she was asked by her teachers what she would like to be. Without any hesitation, she said, “I want to be a mommy.” I felt very honoured and humbled that a five-year old could understand what it meant to her to have a mother around most of the time.

My friend, Sue was aghast when her husband presented their firstborn’s birth certificate after his return from the birth registration department.

“Are you nuts? How can you accept this?” she asked exasperatedly. On the document, it clearly stated the name of their child as: Cassandra Lee May Ling A/P Lee Chu Sing.

(In South East Asia, A/P is an abbreviation for “daughter of” and it is typically used for ethnic groups who take on their fathers’ first names as surnames. It is redundant for the Chinese who place their family’s name before their given names.)

Sue’s husband is a successful corporate lawyer and poring over legal documents is his forte. We may laugh over this. But all of us are like him when we enter into the unknown world of parenthood. We are trained and educated for excellence in our careers and even at play or leisure, we find out all about the do’s and don’ts before we wet our feet.

But being a parent is another ball game altogether. Not even our mothers could have prepared us well for the task of raising children. To many, having children is just another part of ‘The Cycle Of Life’. Our duties are to feed them, clothe them, love them and educate them. Is a parent-child relationship merely a giver-receiver relationship?

Think about it. Wouldn’t you agree that you are a better person because of your children? The life lessons my children has taught me from the very beginning are beyond anything I could learn from books.

The very first lesson for me is patience. Oh yes, all these years, I have learnt well that patience is a result of not having any expectations. Patience also means going with the flow. With patience, I also learnt to be more aware of my thoughts and to respond positively to my daily challenges. My second child gave me these invaluable lessons through unreasonable tantrums right from his 18^th month till his fourth year.

The ultimate lesson on patience came with the birth of my youngest child. He timed his birth up to the very moment I felt impossible to “hold on” further. Other than a pessary to soften the cervix (the birth was induced at 38^th week as I was on insulin for gestational diabetes), I refused epidural and pethidine because I wanted to be aware of every single moment during the birth.

And my baby gave me exactly what I wanted: moment-to-moment awareness for 22 and half hours in the labour ward. When he finally nudged his head out, I was completely in touch with every single sensation and I felt (surprisingly) peaceful.

My baby taught me the virtue of patience with grace. He wouldn’t holler when he was hungry; just a slight gurgle and he would wait without a fuss when I kept him waiting – even to the extent of waiting for more than a minute while I eased myself. He is now three; because of his sweet nature, the terrible-two stage was non-existent. His patience is truly remarkable.

I still struggle to teach my second child (who is four years older) delayed-gratification but my youngest seems to embody patience. He does have his moments of anger and crying tantrums (especially when his TV time quota is up for the day) but he bounces back to his normal self in less than 10 minutes. He would come round, teary-eyed and says, “I am sorry Mummy for tantrum (ing). Please forgive me.” After a hug and some smooches, he would happily get on.

Then there is this huge lesson on self-love. It has been so easy to fall in love with my children. I never had dolls to play with while growing up so my babies were my living dolls. One night while I was lying next to my then 10-week old daughter after a round of cuddling and singing, I was locked in her gaze for a few minutes. I felt a tremendous sense of love emanating from her bright round eyes. For that moment in time, I felt truly loved. But it also hit me hard. Did I love myself as much as my daughter loved me?

I knew deep down, the answer was a big no. When I pondered further, I realized how important it was to love and accept myself. Without self-love, the inevitable is low self-esteem. I couldn’t see and appreciate the good stuff about myself. Through my daughter’s eyes, I gathered enough courage to embark on a journey of self-discovery and ultimately towards self-love.

Truly, my children are my greatest teachers.

Sometimes it is hard to go against common perceptions. Since the birth of my daughter, I had people saying to me, “Oh, it’s so nice to have a girl because you can doll her up.” And I had comments by relatives about my daughter’s lack of dressing sense – would you believe, at that time my daughter was only five years old? They thought it wasn’t “classy” enough and that her hairstyles were so dull.

I couldn’t stop their comments nor reject their gifts for my daughter. “Wear this dress and tie up your hair this way, you will look very pretty,” they would say to my daughter. Before long, my daughter who had for the initial years preferred cotton tee-shirts and shorts/leggings, took a huge fancy to dresses. She also began to believe that long hair would make her look pretty (also due to peer pressure – most of her classmates had long hair) and wanted the same.

I have always tried to be careful with my choice of words about appearance with her. When I braided her hair once, I merely said, “You look neat!” I would have preferred to say, “You look really cute like a doll!” Whenever she tried to head off to school without brushing her hair, I would say, “Don’t go with your messy hair.”

Despite being mindful of the appropriate words to use with her, my daughter is much influenced by what her friends’ say. She hasn’t had her hair braided again because she didn’t like it when her friends commented that her braids had looked different from theirs. When she told us, we tried to explain to her that her own preferences were more important to herself than what others thought of her.

To be able to stand tall in one’s very own space, the key is self confidence. When I reflected on my own shortcomings, I realized that I hadn’t learnt to love myself as I was growing up. Perhaps this is the first step – to teach my children to love themselves.

As soon as my children are old enough to tell me that they love me, I would ask them, “Do you love yourself? Don’t forget to love yourself!” I hope by saying it often enough, the message will get across.

I always remind them to be kind to themselves; whenever they lose a game or can’t complete a task, it’s better to let “that awful feeling go”. I’ve found this “letting go” is a huge challenge for them – come to think of it, it’s not that easy either for an adult. Whenever the opportunity arises, I would ask, “What would you say to the other players, if you lose a game?” My quick thinking daughter had once replied without hesitation, “Oh, that’s okay. It’s only a game. I still love you.”

Children are essentially kind hearted and loving towards their family and friends; if they are encouraged to be as loving to themselves, they will not fear failure and rejection. Confidence comes to any child who loves herself and believes in herself.

When the war broke out in Iraq in first quarter of 2003, the pre-school my then 5-year old daughter attended revamped their whole year curriculum. Apart from the mandatory learning as set out by the Ministry of Education, the teachers put together a most meaningful project espousing peace.

Through newspaper cuttings of the children displaced and orphaned by war, songs of peace, activities and games involving co-operation and a beautiful public art exhibition themed Peace and Harmony, my daughter and her friends learnt some powerful lessons that would last a lifetime.

If more schools and teachers work together to promote such peaceful ways, there will be fewer conflicts around us.

But how can we, as parents, help support such great work? Perhaps the keyword lies in “inner peace”. I have found that inner peace can be achieved and taught to our children by teaching them to love themselves.

When we are kind to ourselves, we tend to be able to acknowledge our strengths and weaknesses better. This will lead to a certain contentment and happiness from within. Theoretically, there will be little envy or even jealousy and perhaps intense rivalry and the power to control over others may not have the chance to manifest.

For many of us, self love can be pretty challenging, what more trying to teach (through example) it to our children. Take heart, it isn’t that difficult. Just think, if we can love our children so unconditionally, that very same feeling can also be extended to ourselves.

Let me share with you a tragic story that convinced me of the importance of raising children who love themselves.

In 2002, a friend related to me how his 23-year old brother-in-law took his own life by inhaling exhaust fumes in his car. This young man was then living with his parents in a very affluent neighbourhood. No one knew why he chose to end his life but the family was certain it wasn’t about money (debts). They wondered if it could be unrequited love. I felt sad for the old couple who lost their only son but sadder that he didn’t love himself enough to brave through the storm.

To me, children who grow up with a healthy self esteem (which also means they love themselves and have a certain level of contentment and inner peace) will weather out whatever that comes their way – regardless of their IQ score.