Get Fit with A Toddler

Here is the upside of being a mother: you get fit with a busy toddler.

This is based on my observation putting pedometer (steps counting) on me and Zaki for a week (between the first and seventh of September). Mine varies between 4000-5500 steps a day and Zaki's 5000-5700 steps more or less during the day. From 8 am till 6 pm. Although it does not meet the suggested target of 10,000 steps.

Zaki is clearly beaten me in the scores. When I let myself to sit for scanning the papers, he would be half-walk-half-running his little feet back and forth. Get a helicopter toy, put on the floor,take it and put it back. Three times. About 200 steps. Just one activity.

Be happy that you are fit!!!

Mind Reading Game

We went out from the library to renew the parking ticket. Zaki held my hand while we walked on the pavement. Once I unlocked the car and opened the door,he climbed up behind the steering wheel, gurgling happily.
I put the ticket on the desk. I watched him moved the steering left and right whilst standing with a round smile. "Can we go out now?" I asked after few minutes. It was boiling inside the car. "Na na na," he responded by nodding his head.
"Come on," I answered and lifted his body.He protested and struggled to stay. Outside the car, he kept struggling and pointed with his right hand after 30 yards. I thought he pointed to the car and wanted to go back. He almost managed to get off.
I turned back. He actually pointed to his bunny face sandal, which fell on the patio. He wanted to get it.


Can you play the mind-reading game with a toddler? I just finished A Child's World: A Unique Inside Into How Children Think in which the first chapter discussed about mind-reading. It is a skill to work out what people are thinking, imagining how other peole are feeling in any particular situation, or trying to understand what someone means or intends.

According to the author, toddler under 2 years does not yet develop this skill, as he/she learns the world from his/her point of view. Thereby, as an adult, I should be the one who put myself on Zaki's shoes in order to catch what he wants and responds appropriately.

Hmm. I found it I need myself to learn the skill perhaps as much as him!

As you may see, I failed the above-mentioned guessing thing. He wanted his sandal whereas I perceived the steering wheel.

Again, this morning, I misinterpreted his sign. He layed sleepily on my lap with his red shoes on. He asked me to put the pair on about half an hour before. His eyes gradually were closing, his mouth half open followed by gentle snoring. I carefully took his head onto the cushion. When I withdrew, he jerked. His eyes opened wide and his head up.
"Oh No!" I said to myself. I felt I had to rock him all over again. He raised his right foot. I saw the shoe was not on. His hand tried to pick it on the floor. I smiled and put it on. He calmed down; rested his head and closed back his eyes.

Had I mastered the mind-reading, I could do much better job as his mum. I could have avoided frowning when he threw away his food. I would have had just cleared them up because it meant he was already full or not interested to eat. At other times, I could have just left him alone when he was nagging. It meant that he was just unhappy he did not get what he liked and had to choose the unwanted option.

Unfortunately, it is neither inherited nor instant skill. It is something to be learnt during the early stages of our development as human beings. However, how early is early then?

Right-o. The book stated that by two years a child has begun to develop a clear sense of self (but is still unaware that other people have 'selves' too). By one year old, a baby experiences and expresses joy, surprise, sadness, anger, fear and disgust.

Zaki expresses his joy being tickled. He was surprised to hear the grass trimmer on. He was sad, hailing loud when being left with a childminder. He irritated when I take screwdriver off his hand and said it is dangerous, as he might be hurt. He feared electric drill's sound, yet not to hoover's since baby. He threw a tissue with a disgust look whilst muttering "ji ji"( means dirty). Facts checked, it is true happening.
This sense of self - including self consciousness and self evaluative- is further explained to be developed between two and three years old.

Zaki is seventeen months; he develops those emotions in daily events, which I think is to reinforce his growing independence. I am curious if independence has got its contribution in this context.
This phase of growing self sense might answer my question why word "no" to Zaki simply nothing. His yet mind-reading skill means he is still free from control and influence from others. He can not accept something different from what he wants, thus expressed his anger as the disagreement.
He is currently living in his own world. Does it mean is it pointless either talking to him or set the rules?

Wait. Where did he get the expression of disagreement by saying "na na na" and nodded his head? ME and my husband realised that he copied it from him.Also, he began to throw his toys after his father did the same thing for his papers. He put his nappy sack in the bin after saw us did it times.
He blinked his eyes after my mum taught him and used it when she was around. Is the copying part of self sense?

Since 15 months, he already understands simple instruction. "Please bring me this", "Put it back" or "Get other the pair of your shoes" are one task thing he can follow. I think it could be earlier but I was not sure. I did convinced when he I said "put the books back on the shelf" and he did.
Having recalled it, he might copy when I grumpily putting the books and looked to his eyes telling the sentence when he was about 12 months.
He had the interaction with the others.

Having said all, I find the gap in the mind-reading theory. I appreciate the importance of the first three years of life towards his future emotional intelligence.

Nonetheless, I am not convinced that toddlers live in their own world while developing his self sense. In my opinion, his ignorance to "no" is the way he sees how people react. He takes notice of the negative response from me and my husband and associates it with something his parents do not like. He disagrees by running away. On the other hand, he no longer touches pins and needles after my mother showed that they can hurt him. He even imitates her expression dealing with needles.

I have no doubt about mind-reading. I am just feeling that Zaki is as well exercising his mind-reading skill. What do you think?


Reference: Brewer, S. 2001. A Child's World: A Unique Inside Into How Child Think. London:Headline Book Publishing.

Jacomina, That Mujahiddah ...

Her name is Firda, 12 years old. On the morning 26 April 2004, Firda sent off her father,Abdullah Daeng Matta. Since then, Firda --a sweet girl in veil-- never see him again. He has left her for good.

On that day, a bomb shocked the villagers of Silale, Ambon. Riffle shots was never ending. Daeng Matta suspected that the riot had erupted. Like the previous one, many died. He wanted to help bringing the victims to the hospital. He asked his wife, Jacomina Luturmas, who was then seven months pregnant.Jacomina allowed him.

Daeng Matta, the then father of five, took a bath, wore his clean outfit, and prayed two rakaat. Afterwards he hugged and kissed his wife and his children; the people he loved most. He left. There were no words, yet their hearts talked much more.

Along Talake road, the deaths and the severely wounded ones scattered. Daeng Matta came closer to help. While squatting at one of them, a shot went through his chest. He fell and passed away on the way to Al-Fatah's hospital.

The tragedy was described by Al-Shahida in ICMI's mailing list last week.
Shahida, who resides in London, UK-actively participates in preaching activities within the muslim communities- met Firda's family in Silale, Ambon, in a humble bamboo house, mid of June.

In her e-mail entitled ''The sorrow of Firda'', which was sent to ICMI members, Shahida described about the toughness of that poor family. Firda's mother, Jacomina, who was heavily pregnant, could no longer cry. Her tears had been dry. Tears broke from Firda dan her sister, Intan, 14 tahun, who listened to their mother's tragic story.

Not only Firda dan Intan, Shahida with Khadijah's Echoes Molucca Team- non-governmental organisation who looks after the riot's bereaved families- was also carried away towards their sorrow. Times they said istighfar and held their breath.
They felt like the world was pushed to the verge. ''So much grieves, sorrow, tears happen in Molucca. Nonetheless, their voices are barely heard...'' wrote Sahida. ''Please, help them ...''

I contacted Shahida, whom I knew later is a housewife. I asked her to write the story of Firda's family. Shahida permitted. Moreover, she explained the life of Firda's mother, Jacomina, after Daeng Matta died. Jacomina continued by her lingering poverty. Her belief to the benevolent of Allah made her thrived and tough. She asked no pity, even when she was due in labour.

On 18 June 2004, after visited her husband's grave, Jacomina refreshed herself with ablution for Maghrib prayer. She felt herself in labour. She gathered all the children and asked them to inform noone that she was about to deliver. Jacomina locked herself in the bedroom. She pushed her baby out and cut the cord. A healthy baby girl borne from a mujahiddah.

Reading her e-mail, I stunned and throwned away to a very strange place. Here people spend money for a few hours parties, which on the contrary, the riot victims -they never want it carryon- lost their loved ones and having shoved away at the same time.

Jacomina is a mujahiddah. She fights alone to feed her children; the orphans. Jacomina fights for the gracious of Allah, not human's pity. A wonderful and solemn love.

Jacomina guards her six children to the future without any interest. However, can we let this noble woman creeping amidst us, who strong enough to walk, even run?

If you wish to help, please contact Al-Shahida at al_shahida@yahoo.com

The Indonesian version is in Republika, 18 August 2004.

An Afternoon in Hyde Park

Saw Zaki played in the playground


Swing,swing to the moon


WIth a new friend Chloe


Daa...I can do it myself


Where the freesbie?

Five Reasons to put me off from updating

- Zaki's teething moments are not worn off.
- Zaki turned off the computer just before publishing the post. No back up. His look said,"I want my mummy and I want to type it myself. My side, not yours".
- This unusually fine June's weather. So precious, ask any Brittons if you wish. Take Zaki's out with his trikes. Planting and cleaning the garden are so tempting, though I am losing my fight against weeds and slugs.
- Cleaned up the dusts as a result of changing radiators. MY husband's DIY. Quite successfull and quite stressful I must say.
- Re-read The Prisoner of Azkaban.

Keep the Sanity

I lost count how many times I did this:

Take a long deep breath. Move slowly away (from him)...slowly -well abruptly quick when it really got my nerves-....do not turn your head (just bear the cries, screams, yells)...distanced myself for 3-5 minutes...come back...yet slowly. Hug and kiss.

Before I "strangle" him. Only in mind.

The Ocean Blue

Last week Zaki had his MMR (Measles,Mumps and Rubella) jab. His temperature has been lukewarm ever since. I took it as a temporary effect of the jab. In the last two days, I conclude that he actually is teething along some other symptoms.

Last night, he looked pale before bed. At 4 am, he woke us with a long cry. In dizzy, I touched his burning forehead and tried comforting him. He kept wailing; put his index finger in his mouth.
My husband rushed for calpol, as I inquired and we managed to trickle 10 ml down his throat. I immediately was fully awake to watch him in pain yet fatigue at the same time. ROcking him on my lap, I saw in dark my husband lied on the bed to resume his sleep. I really envied him. Why me, the mother, I cried inside, who could not sleep at the time like this?

Zaki started to close his eyes. I put him down and we snugged in bed.

I started to sleep when he screamed. Again. My head was spinning and unconciously lifted him up. He struggled despite a good fifteen minutes swaying. "Zaki, do you want me to hold you?" asked my husband.

He repeated the phrase whilst his body still attached to the bed and his eyes were barely open. "Oh, please..." . I felt so upset. Why just take over him? I cried to myself. I took a long breath.
He did not move. I wandered around the room; the sun was arising. I remembered the teething gel he might need.

I showed the tube, Zaki stared at it and reached out. I put the gel on my finger and massaged his lower gums. He was calming down. He still held the tube and chewed it. He just whimpered afterwards. Eventually he slept with holding it.

My only wish in the morning was he got better; smiling and racing crawled down the stairs as usual. Babbling "da da" in an inquiry tone to us.Unfortunately, he woke with a painful cry, asked to be held.

Speaking of which, I could not decide whether to stay or leave. I needed to go to the loo, a cup of coffee and fresh water for my weary face. In my arms here a son who clinged without expression.

I loved him. I hated him being in that state. I loved him. Oh, I was so desperate. Yet, I held him even harder.