My time in the Japan Exchange Teaching program has lulled me into a false sense of security about how well children behave.

There, children were self-possessed little adults. They shouted out their coaches’ commands vigorously, partook in community outreach activities such as rice planting and concerts, and acknowledged your presence enthusiastically. Never had I been so idolised, with rings of them clamouring around me, wanting to get my attention yet somehow never overwhelming me. I never expected child-rearing to be laden with the minefields that it actually is.

People often comment on my quiet son, but what they don’t get is that they only witness his sanitized size at school. He isn’t what you will call mischievous, but his incessant questioning, his jumpy mannerisms, and his urge to disturb his sister for no good reason all combine to give me a sensory overload. And my daughter is equally, if not more, exhausting. She is riding on the 3-year-old wave, milking its mileage for what’s it worth. Tantrums, sulky faces and non-stop whining are facets that I get exclusive footage of.

Yet, in front of strangers, she is so exuberant, so charming, so effortlessly adorable in her ways. Broad grin, jumping with joy, waving hi and bye, basically bringing some light into their lives.

And I get the raw, unfiltered versions of them. 😭

This, too, shall pass, I know. But I have acquired enough wisdom to understand that parenting never gets easier. But I do fervently hope that someday, a little calm and quiet will enter my life, just like birds transiting at some checkpoint during their migration.