Me, a kiasu parent?

I’m a kiasu parent. There. I’ve admitted it.

I always imagined myself to be a relaxed, what-ever-will-be type. The one who gives her child plenty of room to grow, explore and discover at his own pace. The one who wouldn’t sit through homework with him, pack his school bag and read up his curriculum before he does. No, I would be too cool for that.

But I’m not. My son is just 14 months and I’m already comparing him to his peers. “Joshua can count, you know,” I tell my husband. “And Pei Sze is doodling. How come our son isn’t doing these things yet?” I fret. Am I doing something wrong? Not giving him the right milk? Not spending enough time teaching him the finer things of toddlerhood?

Who is this crazy Mom-zilla? And when did I become her? Help!