'Mama, what makes people bad? Where did language come from? And how do we know there is a God?'

My 10-year-old daughter Rhea is prone to pelting me with questions that have no easy answers. Yet moulding her mind and watching it take shape is just one of the many experiences that, to me, make motherhood the most precious gift life has to offer.

My kids - sensitive, soulful Rhea and her lively 17-month-old sister Maya - are the centre of my universe. But they are by no means the only stars in it. I have a job I love too. Immersed in the deadline-driven world of journalism, I have often not been there for my girls.

I missed Rhea's first day at Primary One in January 2005, being away covering the after-effects of the tsunami. When she was rushed to hospital with a raging fever recently, I was, once again, half a world away.

With Maya too, things are not much different. I was away chasing stories when she took her first steps. Ditto when she uttered her first word - Mama - her fat little fingers clutching onto a crumpled old photograph of mine.

I know such admissions will make some mums pity my 'neglected' kids. Working women may say this is exactly why they don't want children. But do I care? Not at all.

We have one precious shot at living, so juggling career and kids and finding joy in the journey are just the way life should be.

So what's so special about being a Mum? It's hard to articulate emotion even for someone who has crafted a career out of words. But I'll try.

My kids make me laugh. They make me think. Ever so often, they make me marvel at the miracle of life.

Like when little Maya tries to stand up on her own or struggles to feed herself. She often fails, makes a mess and tries again. Resilience and independence are innate to the human spirit.

Her exuberant innocence is delightful. During an MRT train ride, she gleefully called a foreign worker standing next to her 'Papa', much to the young man's embarrassment. He looks nothing like her Dad, I thought instantly. But baby eyes know no prejudice.

But it is my older daughter's gently probing mind and her growing awareness of the ambiguities - indeed the dark side of this world - that make me really revel in being a Mum. I try to teach her right from wrong, guide her and share values that will one day help shape her own destiny.

I still remember her horror as a five-year-old when I told her about 'bad people called kidnappers' during a holiday in London. I did not want her to get lost in an unfamiliar city.

'Why would anyone want to take little children away from their Mamas and Papas?' she bawled. 'What makes people bad?' Chastened, I said we were there to protect her. She held on tight. Even as I savoured the hug and wiped away her tears, I knew this was a rite of passage - my baby's first glimpse that all was not well with our world.

The memory has stuck with me as the first of many such moments when we teach our children how to tackle the bad and grow the good.

Crafting their spirits, basking in their love and making memories together are what motherhood is all about.

My kids make me feel rich in this land of millionaires - and often make me wonder why more women here are unwilling to give motherhood a shot.

Last week, Singapore gave itself a premature Mother's Day gift when Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong announced that the total fertility rate (TFR) here had crept up to 1.29, its highest since 2002.

TFRs map how many children a woman can expect to have during her child-bearing years.

Richer countries traditionally have lower TFRs. But even after the recent good cheer, Singapore's rate languishes among the lowest in the world. The United States' Central Intelligence Agency factbook puts it a few notches below most European countries - and more than 80 notches below the world's biggest economic powerhouse, the US.

Singapore is safe and cosmopolitan, school education is free, taxes are low and we have an abundant supply of affordable and efficient domestic help.

While my friends in the West struggle to change diapers, juggle feeds, cook dinner, carve out a career and bond with their kids, I can leave the domestic drudgery to my helper Judith - who has over the past seven years become a part of my family - and concentrate just on kids and career.

It's a luxury, I know, that few places in the world can afford.

The Government hopes the stork will soon make more frequent appearances here. It made public a study last week that showed more people want to have kids. But will the chasm between intent and reality be bridged? I am not sure.

Surveys after all are not always foolproof. Even as the government survey signalled the potential success of Singapore's pro-baby incentives, another smaller survey, this one by the National University of Singapore, yielded very different results.

While nearly seven in 10 married people interviewed said that Singapore's pro-baby incentives would raise the TFR here, less than three in 10 said these would affect their personal decision to have a child.

Both surveys put money as a big factor influencing married folk on how many children they should have, if any at all. I have met qualified women in well-paying jobs who dismiss the thought of having kids with a cavalier 'Not enough money, lah!'

Such comments are ironic, since Singapore already has one of the highest concentrations of wealthy households in the world.

In any case, I'm disconcerted when materialism creeps into arguments that should essentially be about matters of the heart. My husband and I were not rich when we had Rhea. But we were young. And happy. And in love.

Possibly the biggest obstacle to having kids is if you don't find the right partner. Singapore is full of intelligent and educated women who are single. Referring to them, Minister Mentor Lee Kuan Yew said last year that maybe their having children on their own was better than them not becoming mothers at all.

Perhaps it's time to destigmatise single motherhood.

Then there is the question of time. Some women I know who are already in their mid or late 30s say they want to have kids, but not quite yet.

Doctors have warned that fertility is not like a tap that you can turn on as and when you please. And despite many medical advances, the older you are, the harder it is to conceive.

So if you are lucky enough to have found a partner to raise a child with, should you wait some more?

That's a question my gynaecologist asked me, when my husband and I went to her for birth control advice shortly after we married. A successful Mumbai doctor, she had married while still in medical school and had two kids before she established a practice. 'If you have found the right partner and want kids, a career can wait,' she said. 'Babies shouldn't.'

In hindsight, that's the best advice anyone has ever given me. I got pregnant shortly afterwards. I was 26.

I'm glad I got a head start. It's given me more time to bask in the myriad joys of motherhood. The memories are piling up fast - and I know there are many more to come.

Happy Mother's Day!

This article was first published in The Sunday Times on May 11, 2008.