Amid the national chatter about relaxing and letting offspring enjoy their childhood, an intriguing e-mail message landed in my inbox last week.
“Lunchtime talk: How to bring out the WINNER in your child,” blared the staff broadcast message.
I rounded up two of my mummy colleagues and promptly signed up for the free, companyorganised session.
It wasn’t so much that I wanted to raise a “WINNER” – although I am sometimes neurotic about my sons’ development.
But the topic just dovetailed with the current climate: parents lamenting that kids are stressed because their young ones have too much homework, while teachers argue that they have to dish out work to satisfy parents anxious about whether their kids are learning.
Even playing, it seems, is the new learning.
But another thing that was attractive about the talk was that it promised to help parents increase their children’s self-esteem, listen effectively to them, discipline correctly and bridge the generation gap.
If kids are expected to learn, parents, too, must upgrade their parenting skills and create a better family environment systematically and consistently, I reasoned.
So, like the nerdy student that I’d always been, I sat in the front row with my standard-issue packet of fried rice, and listened with rapt attention as the trainer gave an entertaining presentation.
Peppering his spiel with lots of jokes and anecdotes, learning coach Ernest Wong introduced nine personality types.
He said that the trick to dealing with children is to read their character traits correctly, and then motivate them accordingly.
In other words: Learn how to push all their right buttons.
This advice may seem obvious.
Still, too often, parents are the ones pushing their children to do things, instead of letting the young ones take the lead.
Pushing, threatening and yelling may get you only so far. Dangling a carrot may get you further. But, when a child truly understands why the action being urged is relevant and meaningful to them, they are moved to embark on the journey on their own.
Scanning the personality types flashed in Dr Wong’s PowerPoint presentation, I deduced that my elder son – Julian, six – was a Performer (goal-oriented, focused, susceptible to vanity) – with touches of the Observer (can take only so much socialising; curious, good researchers).
Meanwhile, my younger son, Lucien, almost three, struck me – even though it might be too early to tell – as an Epicure: someone who lives in the moment and thrives on adventure.
He is likely to be the one playing computer games, while Julian mugs for exams in the future (although I could be wrong).
I put my findings to use as soon as I returned home. Performers thrive on admiration so, despite a previous vow not to over-praise my kids, I made my appreciation clear whenever Julian did something right. And, when he did something wrong, I suggested alternatives to him in private, mindful of his strong pride.
It worked. By nightfall, he had stopped acting out by bullying his brother, and was coming to me with hugs and kisses.
The acid test came when he came to me and said he didn’t want to go for his weekly, 11/2-hour Chinese-enrichment class any more. I dug deep into my box of arguments to tailormake a compelling tapestry for him.
The ensuing lecture, if I may say so myself, is worthy of being bottled and sold.
To appeal to the Performer in him, I told him that he would be so clever if he became a polyglot, collecting languages like how people collect toys. I pointed out that his best friend was proficient in three languages – English, Chinese and Hindi – to awaken the natural competitor in him.
We talked about the countries he could visit without a tour guide if he knew Chinese, to appeal to the Observer in him.
He seems convinced, for now. And I’ve turned from psychotic to psychoanalysing mum.
Let the mind games begin.
[email protected]
Get my paper for more stories.
