I started doing this—mixing and replicating songs on my computer—when I was in college.

She is 14. Yep, all those harmonies sang at supermarkets worked. Mission accomplished.

Our girl is 10. She can play a few songs. Nothing fancy. She doesn’t hate it. She doesn’t love practicing either.

The chance for her to become a pro is zero.

The new teacher asked her to play a song. Maybe 1/3 way through it, he asked her to stop. He took the book away, and asked her to play triads.

That was the whole lesson. F minor. B flat major. C major 7. What’s the different? Third finger! Watch your fifth finger!

Towards the end, he pulled out the Bach Prelude & Fugue No. 1 in C major and asked her to play. She gasped, “oh this one!”

I have shown and played the piece to her before. My wife, her, and I tried to play the Ave Maria version of the piece together. So many tadpoles cramped into the bars. It’s too hard!

After class, she said, “it was so easy. I just need to stretch my fingers.”

Harmonies are the mathematical expressions of the emotional reality.

This teacher is hired.

(原文刊登於愛嬰醫院香港協會愛嬰醫院電子通訊：https://www.babyfriendly.org.hk/wp-content/uploads/2019/09/Baby-Friendly-E-News-Sep-2019.html)

一年前，我們的第二個孩子出生了。這次跟第一個小孩出生時很不一樣，除了我們兩夫妻心態不一樣、我們老了七年之外，就是公司提供了六週的侍產假給我。我第一個想法是「去!旅!行!」當然，我即時被老婆怒瞪一眼，狠狠地把我從白日夢裏摔回現實。六週的侍產假真的很漫長。但捱過之後，我堅信這不僅僅是促進家庭關係的良藥，更是 一個覺知「真」男人真諦的必經修行。

為什麼我堅持這個修行需要最少六週呢? 這是因為這個修行必須包括從有陪月轉移到沒有陪月的階段。普遍家庭都會請一個月左右的陪月，如再多加兩個星期，會讓男人在沒有陪月的環境裏進行更艱難更徹底的琢磨。這就好像老外煮慢燉牛 肉一樣，最後一定要關火「焗一焗」。把男人在沒有陪月的環境「焗一焗」，修行的效果才有機會昇華，讓男人被焗成「真」男人 — 一塊穩健家庭不可或缺的原材料。

「真」自我認知(知衰)的修行

實不相瞞，其實我很不想有六週那麼長的煎熬。我相信很多兄弟心裡都有類似的想法:「三天侍產假夠啦!」「侍產假就等於換不完的尿片、逃不掉的責任。」「侍產假不是假期，是侍產囚牢。」說白了，我們有這些想法，最主要原因是我們怕失敗，因為心知我們照顧小孩和處理婆媳關係的能力是不合格的。另外一個原因是我們搞不清楚，想打機、做一些「男人嘢」的慾望，其實只是我們的原始人DNA作怪而已。男人潛意識還以為大自然仍需要我們天天到外面打老虎採野蘑菇; 我們沒意識到開「波子」吹吹風，其實只是在彌補在原野奔跑追野兔時清風撲面的感覺。我們甚至認為或堅持這是我們男人的本質，這才是真男人。所以當我們被逼去參與照顧小孩的工作，我們就要面對很多關於自己能力的殘酷現實。

我以前一直認為，對剛出生的BB而言，爸爸其實是很多餘的。不要多想，不要以為自己很有價值 。這一切都是遐想。男人最主要的工作，就是要盡快明白和接受，基本上我們唯一能做得較有效的，就是如何在接收到命令時，全心全意去做。沒人會認真聽我們對不同的屁股cream的看法 。更沒有人會考慮我們被尿射臉、BB尿片漏、「阿仔係咁踢，拉拉褲點著啊!」的感受。另外，老婆其實並不太需要我很多的安撫，因為唯一能安撫她的，就是孩子吃得好、拉得好、睡得好、老婆跟其他女性關係維持得好、老公不要製造額外不必要的麻煩; 而不主要是我們的甜言、臂彎或胸膛。老婆其實並不太需要我們百年一遇的暗黑料理、或名為取悅老婆實為自我滿足的火腩飯外賣，因為她們寧願吃更多的雞和喝更多的上奶湯水。老婆容許我們替BB洗澡，其實只是讓我們感覺稍微有用、讓我們挽回丁點顏面。她們根本不需要我們幫忙替BB洗澡，因為男人連洗碗都只會越洗越髒，何況是洗BB!

在這個過程裏，男人會不停的被打擊。「為什麼老婆可以忍得住BB刺耳的哭啼?」「為什麼外婆抱BB，他就安穩下來; 我抱，他就爆炸!」「為什麼我沒法像她們一樣，能真心享受重複再重複地照顧一頭只會吃和拉的小動物?」而且，這些打擊源源不絕，日日新鮮。當我以為我克服了一個侮辱，爬起來了，下一個打擊接踵而來，連續六週，不停地不停地不停地折磨我。然而，這種自我發現及後來我們如何面對和處理這些侮辱，就正是男子漢覺知修行的開始。

大男人小男人「真」男人的修行

當我每一次察覺到自己的無用，我都需要作出選擇。一般的本能反應，都不外乎怪責和逃避 :「幹嘛搞到那麼複雜?!我出生的時候哪裡會讓BB同床的呢?」「我需要小息一會… … 啊 ，是這樣的，剛才開車出去是因為要買尿片啊 !對啊，我要新的尿片啊!」更多的，是不願意接受現實，缺乏經驗處理這些丟臉的經歷， 更過於憂慮(男性)豬朋狗友的目光。不過奇妙之處是，有時候當我們被逼到盡頭時，可能會有徹底的改變。絕地，會是精進的修行的起點。

大概三週之後，我開始接受自己照顧嬰兒的能 力就是這麼低。我開始接受我被委派的活，是可有可無的。「老公! 過來讓我看看你的樣子! 啊，ok，你可以出去了。」(That’s it?!)這種接受，需要很大的正能量。如果動力是來自逃避或「頂一頂」等，絕對熬不了幾天，何況六週、一輩子! 而其中一個正面的推動力，是能看到和接受實際的大局。唯一的大局，就是所有事情，都不是關於我自己，而是我的家庭。 如果我能接受這一點，我就有機會學習放下自我，努力尋找自己的價值。

人生中，其實有很多類似的體驗。例如是我很喜歡打籃球，但其實我長得不高，在球隊裏我從來都不會是主力。但因為我對球隊有歸屬感，而且我很喜歡我的隊友，所以我很願意尋找方法來犧牲和貢獻。 我接受不做投籃手，並樂意永遠做蛋散，而且我會衷心喜歡擔任任何角色。如果小男人就是我的角色，好吧，我就當小男人掃掃地、換換片，而且敬業樂業。如果需要幫老婆在地鐵搶座位 ，我就會英勇地跟低頭玩手機的小子拼個你死我活。在一頭家裏，每一個角色，本來就需要能靈活地、如水一樣地流動。要徹底改變自己是需要長時間的。反反覆覆的成功與失敗，是修行必經之路。越早熟習放下自我，與時並進，「be water」，夫妻關係就能越鞏固，一起跑得更遠。

起跑線

侍產假修行，是為了學會放下自己，為大局作出配合和付出。而「大局」就是夫妻合作默契和家庭關係。一切努力的最終目的，都是為了伴侶和孩子。相信大部分人都會同意，家庭環境和夫妻的互動，是一條非常重要的起跑線。修煉過的夫妻，能讓孩子目睹父母的謙虛、好學、精進、反思;調整、包容、遷就、配合。孩子們會感受到什麼是無私、什麼是付出、什麼是愛。如果孩子能贏在這條起跑線，在人生這場馬拉松就已經穩握勝券。

投資侍產假

所以老細們、領導們，如果有一個簡單的方法可以讓你的男員工提升他們的自知、協調、溝通和自我調整能力，你一定會願意接納。因此，侍產假是一個絕佳的投資。兄弟們，像我這種一 般的小員工，如果公司不是特別慷慨，我也會建議大家多請幾個星期的假期來侍產，好好利用這個一生沒有幾次的修行機會。我還會更進一步，建議大家考慮投放更多額外資源到「侍產修行」。打個比方，如果你想練六塊腹肌、減低身體脂肪比例，你可能會看youtube、請健身教練。如果你想提升管理能力，你會看書、上課。所以公司應該提供家庭和心理輔導資源，讓員工可以更有效地進行當家長的修行。我們自己也應尋找專業輔導從旁指導。輔導並非只有生病時才需要，也不僅僅是防範措施。輔導員正是修行的教練，能有效提升表現!

最後，坦白說，我「侍產修行」的轉捩點，其實並不怎麼了不起。侍產假大概過了四週左右， 有一天，當我在第五十三次休息時，在互聯網看到一個關於占士邦007(Daniel Craig)的花 邊新聞。標題大概是「編輯部的女同事都暈倒了」。報導裏面的照片，是型男戴上利密浦鴨舌 帽，身穿海軍藍色連帽運動衣，右手輕輕的摟抱著依偎在他身前的小嬰兒。

男人愛英雄; 我們是英雄。我是男子漢，說做就做，有骨氣，有義氣。 侍產假 ，我來也。

What exactly am I asking for?

My kids will be happy if I send them to a school, or my kids will be happy if I work together with the school to nurture our kids?

Do we want a more efficient (that takes less work) way to nurture our children, or do we want a better (potentially harder) way to nurture our children?

These questions are trivial, but the fact that we think these questions are trivial, and that we choose not to follow through with the simple answers to these questions, is partly (if not mainly) why … as the cliché would proclaim, “Our education system is broken”.

My daughter spent 1 week learning the letter “d” at her Waldorf school.

“Prussian blue was walking back and forth. It then decided to crawl up. Then came chrome yellow, and it was naughty. It stepped over the path Prussian blue walked, and made everything green. It then decided to use the body of Prussian blue as a swing. It swung. And swung. And swung, from right to up, and around. All the swingings were actually quite tiring! Chrome yellow’s swings were getting shorter, and soon it decided to hang on to the trunk of Prussian blue to rest, like a little ball. Prussian blue had had enough, and decided to wrap around chrome yellow, so it wouldn’t annoy anyone anymore.”

Yea. She had fun. She learned fancy color names. She learned new violent verbs. She learned the magic of color mixing. But those weren’t the most shocking.

This is the pace of how she is learning everything. Every alphabet, addition/division, every darn Chinese character. At this rate, she would remain illiterate until … Elon Musk lands on Mars. Compared to other kids, she is almost idiotic.

It’s almost impossible to not to worry. When she had play dates, she would be constantly reminded how “dumb” she was. Yea. Kids are just mean. They loved to compare everything, and nothing stood out for my girl. She couldn’t spell. She couldn’t even write most lower cased characters. She couldn’t figure out how much change she should get from the ice cream she bought.

Of course I have things to be hopeful of: perhaps she is a better story teller. Maybe she has more patience. Maybe she is better at delaying gratification. Maybe she draws better.

Maybe in the world of YouTubes, Sailor Moons and L.O.L. Surprises…

(here is a perfect YouTube video of what L.O.L toys are:)

We at least will now have memories of our daughter drew with Prussian blue block crayons.

She got to experiment however (the fxxk) she wanted with eggs, because we have been on the “positive reinforcement/you can try anything/everything tastes great” parenting bandwagon. And boy, I have literally tasted the price of unconditional love. It’s sometimes delicious, mostly gassy, and often downright nasty.

When she first learned how to fry an egg, everything was great. Perfectly fried egg, sunny side up. I love it.

She would also make egg melts. How adorable!

But she didn’t like the runny yolks. I made the mistake to encourage her to experiment.

One time, she decided to fry the whites and the yolk separately. She got the whites, and I was forced to eat the rubbery overcooked yolk. I thought I ate play-doh. No, I could not tell her that. We should be positive, remember? But I think she knew how it tasted, because she offered the entire yolk to me, exclusively.

She also loved seaweeds. One morning she was inspired by the Tamago she had the night before from a Japanese restaurant. She decided to add seaweed. It was actually ok.

She was praised, and then she abused the reinforcement. She decided to unload a forest of seaweed onto her eggs.

My goodness, I had a hard time understanding what I was eating. There was so much seaweed. The egg would just make it even more horrifying because it was so thoroughly cooked. It was like eating an onslaught of soggy paper soaked in stale sea water, mixed with play-doh.

Then cheese was introduced to her life, and she would now always include cheese. Yes. Overcooked eggs, cheese, and seaweed. And it’s not just normal cheese like … cheddar or American. She loves stinky cheese.

Here is an example. This was a violently pungent piece of goat cheese we bought from a farmer’s market. It was big, and it was so smelly that we needed 3 ziplock bags to seal it.

One time, she decided that adding pieces of this cheese directly on a cooked egg would be the best way to balance the texture. As a result, I had to eat play-doh that smelled like toenail fungus.

She loves melons too. Yep, you guessed it. This was play-doh fried egg with a gigantic piece of melon. It was nasty to eat because it was impossible to not spill the eggs everywhere when I tried to chew into that humongous piece of melon.

Obviously, clearly, I am okay with all these. I mean, I have to, right? That’s what we parents are supposed to do, right? I mean, this is the only way to not repeat my own traumatic childhood experience on her, right? But honestly, I don’t know. I feel more traumatized now.

Apart from nasty eggs, she has also made these “90% Cupcakes”. These were cupcakes made with 90% chocolate, oatmeal, and god knows what else. They were bitter and had a strong earthy tone to them. She made these because she knew I didn’t like sugar and therefore these would be the best alternatives (no she didn’t eat them but proclaimed they were tasty).

Another time, she decided to wrap her steaks with bread. Just plain pieces of shredded bread, not even toasted, wrapped around the meat. Those were wagyu beef for crying out loud!! (Actually, apparently, this IS a thing in Japan)

I don’t know if I want to continue this. Frankly, I prefer being a different kind of parent. One that does not need to eat play-doh all the time. I guess I won’t be able to fix this now. Perhaps I could approach my son differently. Dictatorship is coming back, big time.