I must admit that there are times when I have behaved arrogantly, when I think that others would do well to learn from me instead of vice versa. Of course, this is not done consciously, not in the “I am better than them” vein but more of “I think that what I know would benefit them”.

Now I realise the importance of stepping back to ruminate quietly about the people in my life. Valuable lessons can be learn from those who have a part to play in my life, be it small or big, if I would just observe and not talk.

Dotz

I have known Dotz since we were both in JC together, as fellow choristers singing our hearts out. Dotz is a religious person, and a devout Christian and I respect her for her immense dedication to her faith. And in a way, without realising it, I have learnt to be an open-minded, respectful and tolerant person through being around her.

it’s so funny. she’s one of my best non-Christian friends, yet sometimes i feel like she accepts and understands me more than many of my Christian friends….(I’m) amazed that i can talk about such things like God’s calling and support raising with her. From her blog entry

I’ve never given much thought to the fact that I am comfortable discussing religion despite not being religious but after reading what she has written, I see a side of me that I have never paid attention to and which she, as my friend, has observed. I also realise how thankful I am for her friendship, because she has been there for me in happy times and in sad. Those days that the Popartgirl and I have spent wrecking havoc in Dotz’s life are memories that I will never forget (and I have photos to prove it).

Dylan

Dylan is the three-year-old son of my cousin-cum-god sister. He’s a real bundle of joy and having grown up in a household full of women, he is affectionate and warm. He’ll wrap his little arms around your neck when you tell him to “hug hug” and lift his face up when you say you want to kiss him. But he’s still a little boy and as little boys go, he tends to be very physical and would use force to express his wishes when he cannot verbalise them.

On Wednesday, I went over to his grandmother’s (my aunt) place to visit him. He was full of energy, as always, and wanted me to play with him. I did so for a couple of hours, before retreating into my cousin’s room to snuggle up with a magazine. Being an attention-seeking child, he zoomed in and out of the room numerous times to remind me of his presence. I entertained him with some customary gestures and remarks but it soon became apparent that 99% of my attention was on the magazine. That irritated him and he then jumped onto the bed to make his presence known. I ignored him and before I knew it, he was clawing at me, as if to say, “Pay attention to me!”

I grabbed his arms, looked at him in the eye and told him to behave or I would throw him out of the room. He continued struggling, wanting to hit out at me. I hauled him to the floor and locked his arms to prevent him from hitting out at me. When he realised that he couldn’t use his arms, he started kicking instead but I held him at an arm’s length and he couldn’t reach me. I then held him off the ground, still kicking and squirming, and put him down on the floor outside the room. Before I shut the door, I told him that since he couldn’t behave, I would then have to lock him out.

Amazingly, he didn’t cry. Instead, he realised that he had angered me and was scared, and he ran and hid behind the cupboard in another room. Ten minutes later, my aunt opened the door and asked, loudly, if I were still angry. That was obviously meant for him and I replied that I wasn’t. Dylan then stuck his head in and grinned a little before skipping away. Fifteen minutes went by before I finally ventured out of the room, only to see him asleep on the mattress with his little bolster. My aunt told me that he kept asking if I was still angry and would only sleep after her assurances that I wasn’t.

I went home soon after, while he was still sleeping. A few hours later, my aunt called and said Dylan wanted to talk to me. He then picked up the phone and I asked why he was up already. He replied, “I woke up and I couldn’t find you.” I told him that I had gone home, and he repeated, “I couldn’t find you, I didn’t know where you were.” And then, “Sorry, yi-yi.”

I was mildly perturbed by the incident, by the fact that I had so nearly lost my temper. But I was also grateful that I didn’t flare up at him, and that felt like I had passed some kind of test. It made me more appreciative of what my aunt faces everyday and how hard it is to bring up a child.

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