Womze – Cross Cultural Parenting

Looking forward to fun barbecues and just fun.  And back to work on Monday.  Why didn’t I think of taking the day off???

Well, HAPPY JULY 4.

My car is a mess.  It’s been a mess for a long time.  Inside the car, I mean.  Food crumbs from cookies and chips, sticky residue from candy, stains from liquid spills…you get the idea.  And you don’t want to lift up the car seats!

How do other moms keep their cars clean?  When anyone at work suggests riding in my car, say if we’re going out to lunch, I quickly throw out the mom-mobile excuse.  I’m ashamed of the inside of my car. 

My cousin told me she knows a mom who’s car is sparkling clean.  This mom forbids the consumption of any food item in the car.  What a great idea!  “I bet she’s not a working mom”, I told my cousin.  And in this case, I was right.

Two days ago, hubby decides to give my car a thorough cleaning.  Don’t get the wrong idea, I do try to clean inside my car.  I pick up fries from the floor, I mop up spills, I dust off crumbs, I shake the footmats just before we rush indoors to get ready for bedtime.  Ocassionally, I run a hand vacuum through the car.  And once last summer, I even shampooed all the seats and eliminated all the ‘beneath the car seat uglies’.  But when hubby told me he was giving my car a thorough cleanining, he really meant thorough.

Almost an hour into his routine, he summoned me.  “See these”, he pointed out the foot mats.  “I’m going to thrash them.  These are bad, they’re not worth the effort to clean them.  Get new ones at Walmart.”

“OK”, I said shame-facedly.  Could it be that my car was really that dirty.

Apparently, it was.  Because when hubby was done, it felt new and different.  I had never cleaned it nearly so well.  Thank you Hubby!!!

“See what daddy did!”, I gestured at the seats and floor as the kids settled into their car seats.  “We have to keep it clean, so no eating in the car.” 

“OK”, both 6 and 2 year old responded.

One day went by with no eating in the car.  Yesterday, I grabbed them from childcare as we rushed off to swim class.  “Mommy, we’re hungry, we need a snack.” they both wailed.

Hungry kids OR dirty car.  Which is the worse evil?  I weighed my options and dirty car won.  But I swore to myself that it would be a temporary defeat.  When we got back home, I made sure to pick up the crumbs.  But I must have been tired, because today, I still saw crumbs.  I zapped those with the hand vacuum, but I can’t help feeling that this is a losing battle.  Any tips?

Practice is the act of rehearsing a behavior over and over, or engaging in an activity again and again, for the purpose of improving or mastering it
- from wikipedia

When I tried to enroll my daughter in a karate school closer to home and the owner wouldn’t let us pay for one day a week, I was upset but I could see his point.  According to him, if once a week is all the karate practice she gets, then she’ll never be great at the sport.  We ended up not enrolling for other reasons, but as I consider the slow progress my daughter has been making at swimming, the karate instructor’s words come back to mind.

One thirty minute class per week is just enough to receive the instructions.  Additional time needs to be set aside for practice, to put the instructions into action.  But there, we’ve been lacking.  So I decided to tackle the obstruction to practice head-on.

Major obstruction to practice is that I cannot swim.  Therefore, I cannot take her to the pool to swim.  Therefore I depend on class schedules for her to get her practice.  And paying for additional classes would be well, costlier.

So I hope to come back sometime soon with an update saying how well I can now swim and how my daughter and Baby Brother have become good swimmers due to tons of practice opportunity.

In the meantime, I have to deal with my swim lesson challenges.  I had intended to take adult swim classes last summer until I found out that our rec center has no weekday evening classes.  Only Saturday classes were available but child care was unavailable during the weekend (a necessity given hubby’s schedule).  So I waited till Fall.  And evening weekday classes were available but the kids room closed 10 minutes before the class was over.  So I decided that come next summer (this one), I would pay for private classes at my (and the kid’s room) convenience.

So far, I’ve had one class.  No miracle happened.  Today was supposed to be my second class and I was running incredibly late.  As soon as I got the kids settled in the kids room, I rushed to change and shower and headed to the pool area where I saw a large crowd.  It appeared a competition (swim meet) was taking place in an adjoining pool.  My instructor was ready.  And so was I.  But I looked over at the rows of benches where proud parents were sitting watching their kids in competition, trying to scan the faces and see if I recognized any.  I couldn’t because they were too far away but nonetheless, I became alarmed.  “I can’t be a side attraction!”

I promised to be back next week, and now I wonder if I’m getting enough practice myself.  Wouldn’t it be ironic if I get stuck in the same issue I’m trying to solve?

I’ve been waiting for some free time to write down the many posts that I compose in my head as events unfold.  The posts that I later forget because I never even jotted the thoughts down.  Some free time to try my hands at writing a story.  Some free time to do the myriad of things I think I want to do.  Even some free time to think about what I want to do.  But there is no free time, so what’s the point of waiting.  As of today, I will just post daily…despite all the conflicting demands for my time.  But why add more conflict?

This is not based on objective research, but I have decided that Blogging makes me a better parent.

Perhaps that is not so, but I strongly believe that writing makes me a better parent.  Blogging just happens to be one outlet for the writing.  Because writing makes me concious of decisions I’m making, makes me observe my children more closely, makes me more aware of the cause and effect when it comes to my children’s behavior and helps me quickly identify when to change the course of my actions.

I am not talking about you.  Writing perhaps has no effect on your parenting quality.  And there are tons of great parents out there who probably never put a jot on paper.  But I’m talking about ME.  Writing is good for me and good for my kids.

And if this is the case, why not do it more?  Exactly right!  That’s what I plan to do.  Even though there is no time.  I intend to take some of the no time, everyday, and do some writing.  Blogging.  Because I can do that in a dark room, while laying down.  That’s one of the advantages.

One post per day is the goal for the month of July.  If I can keep that up for a month, it should become a habit.  Right?  After all, someone (where did I read that?) said it takes 21 days for an action to become a habit.

I put that to the test about two months ago.  I bribed (yes, bribed) my 6 year old daughter to sleep in her room all night.  Seven consecutive nights earned her a trip to Cold Stone Creamery.  A cheap bribe.  Even though she doesn’t like ice-cream much, she liked the act of going out to buy it enough that the bribe worked.  The second set of seven consecutive nights in her room earned her a trip to a used book store (another cheap bribe).  It worked.  I didn’t need to offer any bribes the 3rd week as she just headed to her room every night without any protest, and stayed there all night.  So all it took was 14 nights.  (I know this is kind of lame…6, actually six and a half year daughter not sleeping on her own…it’s been an up and down battle.)

So, back to one post per day.  For a whole month.  Then we’ll take it from there.

After a more-than-six-month hiatus from Karate, I’m trying to get Darling Angel back on track.  Unfortunately, the school she used to go to is no longer as logistically convenient as it used to be.  When it was across the street from the daycare I used to pick Darling Angel up from after work, going there was a no-brainer.  Now, it would require some commitment.

Fortunately, there’s another school that lies somewhere along the path between Darling Angel’s school and home.  That’s convenient, I thought.  I love convenient.  And after several months of thinking that thought, I eventually stopped over last week.  (It’s been extremely cold for most of those several months)

We got a tour of the facility.  Fine.  Then we got to the fees.  Ouch!

It wasn’t terribly more expensive, but they don’t let you pay for one day per week.  You have to pay for the full 3 days per week and come as often as you wish.  We used to pay for one day per week at the previous school.

“You can’t get good at anything you only practice one day a week”, said the owner.  I know that, but I am kind of okay with just being ’so so’ at karate.  My main goal is to get the side benefits (confidence etc) with proficiency in the art as an add-on.  I know…I’ve got it in reverse, but I’m fine with that.

I also started to think of the other activities we need to fit in somewhere.  We need to get on top of swimming.  Room for homework must not be compromised.  “Three days a week?” I asked the instructor.  “I’m not sure we’re ready for that level of commitment.” 

“Then perhaps this is not for you”,  he responded.

Perhaps he’s right.

But I put in a little bit of effort.  And suggested my daughter try out a class.  Then I learned one more thing that makes me hesitate.  Parents are not allowed to watch!

I left with my doubts.  So I talked to a colleague who’s son is a black-belter and she’s had experience with a number of karate schools.  She told me it wasn’t uncommon for parents not to be allowed in the room, but should be allowed to watch through a window.  She told me she always watched when her son was that young.  Darling Angel is six years old.  I can’t depend 100% on her judgement of the class.  I need to be able to make an independent judgement.

When we turn up for the trial class, I tell the owner that I intend to watch.  “No!”  “That’s my rule.  No!”  Then, “What part of NO don’t you understand?”  I wonder if being a former national champion explains the arrogance.

Darling Angel has taken the trial class.  But I am none the wiser.  Of course, she didn’t think the class was great as she was probably the least competent in class.  I tell her that it takes time to come up to speed and we should try it for a month to see if she likes it more.  She agrees, but I still wonder if this is the right school for her.  I don’t think so.

Darling Angel is not a karate person.  It’s something her dad and I are foistering on her to roughen her soft edges just a little.  So I don’t think she needs it multiple times a week.  I doubt if martial art competence is something she would desire.  When she does, commiting to a serious class schedule makes sense.  And I remain completely uncomfortable with the idea of not being able to watch her in class.  The fact that it is absolutely ruled out just makes me uncomfortable.

I think it’s time to reconsider the less logistically convenient option.

Last weekend, I took the kids to watch Nick Jr Storytime show.  There were four shows, Ni Hao Kailan, Backyardigans, Wonder Pets and Dora the Explorer – all moderated by Moose A. Moose.

I could barely wait for the show because I couldn’t wait to see Baby Brother’s excitement when the Backyardigans came on stage.  Whenever the show comes on the TV, he never fails to jump up and stump around in a frenzy along with their music.  I had prepared myself to spend some energy restraining him when he sees his favorite characters.

Reality was a little bit different.  He watched the characters with studious concentration.  Every now and then, he would point out to me who they were (in case I didn’t get it).  “That’s Tasha.”  “That’s Uniqua.”  He was pretty calm.  But obviously enjoying himself.

On our way home, he told me, “Dora and Boots, awetsome!”  It was cute how he said.  And made me feel that every penny spent watching the show was worth it.

What I did not anticipate was the continuing effects of the show.  Since the show, Baby Brother has been initiating a lot of role playing with his big sister.  And not just with characters that were in the show.  He would tell her, “I’ll be Boots, you be Dora”, “I’ll be Tigger, you be Pooh”, “I’ll be Hoho, you be Ni hao”.

I started to wonder what about the show sparked this new-found interest in role-playing.  He has been to watch Stellaluna and he’s also watched Disney-on-ice Let’s celebrate.  Neither of the previous shows encouraged him to role play the way he’s doing now.

After giving it some thought, my theory is as follows:

• Stellaluna was not a familiar character at the time he watched it.  He just accepted what he saw on stage.
• Disney-on-ice characters were extremely realistic.  Mickey Mouse and Minnie Mouse looked the same as they do on TV.  Baby Brother was extremely excited at the time to see beloved TV characters.
• Nick Jr Storytime characters were less realistic.  They were obviously people in costumes.  In the case of Wonder Pets, they were people operating puppets.  Darling Angel complained to me at length when we got home that all the characters sounded different than they do on TV, and they were just wearing costumes, and some character had a girls voice instead of a boy’s voice etc etc.  (She insisted she enjoyed the show despite these observations).

Before buying tickets for the show, I had read a few reviews online.  The majority were positive but a few people complained about some of the costumes not being realistic enough.  Apparently, this is not a negative, but an opportunity to teach the kids what ‘role-playing’ means.  It helps them break the assumption that these characters climbed out of the TV screen to spend an evening on stage entertaining them.  And that is a great thing.

 According to this paper by Doris Bergen, high quality role play or pretend play in children is linked cognitive development, social and linguistic competence and academic skill development.  The paper concluded,

In sum, there is a growing body of evidence supporting the many connections between cognitive competence and high-quality pretend play. If children lack opportunities to experience such play, their long-term capacities related to metacognition, problem solving, and social cognition, as well as to academic areas such as literacy, mathematics, and science, may be diminished. These complex and multidimensional skills involving many areas of the brain are most likely to thrive in an atmosphere rich in high-quality pretend play.

If you need one more justification to take your kids to watch live theater, think about that.

First of all, HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I know, it’s already March and I’m just writing my first post of 2010.  There’s been a hundred and one things I’ve wanted to write about, but I just didn’t get around to writing.  Nor did I get around to doing a lot of other things I should have been doing.  Which caused me to tell myself that I should not even think about posting to the blog while my closet remained disorganized, outgrown clothes needed to be cleaned out from my children’s wardrobes and donated to charity, some art work on canvas I had bought (I’m shamed to confess, 4 years ago) remained unframed…and the list goes on.  Other moms who regularly post to their blogs have a better handle on their lives, I’ve concluded.  And until I get that handle on mine, don’t even try to be like them.

So I slept instead.  And the more I slept, the more tired I felt.  Absolutely no motivation to do anything.  “Swim classes, no way”,  I told my daughter.  “I’m not punishing myself this year.  Rushing out early on a frigid Saturday morning to get to swim class.  We’ll wait till Spring.”  Somehow, I’ve cut out all activities.  But yet, I can’t find the time to complete the tasks those activities took me away from.  Sleep has taken over my free time.  So what’s the point?

But now I think I realize my error.  Denying myself the outlet to blog is also draining my energy.  It’s totally counter-intuitive, but it’s what my experience speaks.  If I wasn’t writing this post at this minute, I would have sucumbed to tiredness instead.  But as I write, I feel no tiredness.  I feel awake.  I feel ready to take on an activity as soon as I’m done with this post.  Perhaps I’ll start with my bathroom closet.

I know Thanksgiving was last week and Cyber Monday is almost over.  But everyday is Thanksgiving, so Happy Thanksgiving to you.  I have so many things to be thankful for, but here is a very limited list – based on what I’ve got in my head at the moment, as opposed to deep, thoughtful introspection.

1. Two healthy and smart kids
2. Hubby and I in good health
3. And good jobs in a bad economy
4. Economy getting better
5. Improving finances and credit card elimination
6. My older daughter accepted into first grade, skipping kindergarten
7. Plus an excellent teacher and adjusting well to her new school (dispelling any concerns about being ‘pushed ahead’)
8. Our neighbor’s home daycare and her enthusiam for kids
9. Neighborly neighbors (it’s impressive when your neighbor rings your doorbell to give you a bag of his home-grown tomatoes)
10. Sitting for an exam that had intimated me and that I’ve found excuses to postpone for the past 2 years (and passing on my first try)

Now it’s time to prepare for Christmas…and a 6 year old birthday before then.

“I think Baby Brother will be a clown when he grows up.”  “No no no…I think he will be a jester.  A jester is funnier than a clown.”  Darling Angel is trying to predict what her brother will be.

Hubby and I quickly counter.  “No no no.  My son will be an engineer”, his dad said.

“But I think he will be a jester”, the girl insisted.  This argument goes on for days, repeated itself ocassionally over the weeks and eventually petered out.  Darling Angel finally accepts that it is unacceptable for her brother to be a jester (or a clown) when grows up.

I did understand her motivation behind the claim.  Baby Brother is a funny dude.  He likes to make people laugh.  As soon as he learned to walk, he would practice several types of funny walks, on bended knees, with stiff legs, just to get a giggle out of someone.  He likes to make faces.  And I’m sure that when we are able to understand what he’s saying, he will say a lot of funny things.  Right now, he laughs hysterically while he lets out his stream of babbles and points to the (I’m assuming) funny thing he just saw on TV.  But I explained to Darling Angel.  Baby Brother can still be funny, but he will have a nice job…like an Engineer (we’re kind of stuck on that for now).

Now, months later, Darling Angel suddenly declared, “I think Baby Brother will be a fire fighter.”

“No”, I quickly responded.  “He will be an engineer.”

Again, she insisted.  I asked her, “Why don’t you be the fire fighter?”.  To which she responded that she wants to be a doctor, besides, she doesn’t like fire.

“Aha, so what makes you think your brother likes fire?”.  “I think he will be an engineer.  Maybe an aerospace engineer.”

“But mom!  He never said he wants to be a space engineer.  He can’t even say that!”

“Exactly!  Neither did he say he wants to be a fire fighter.  But I think he will like being an engineer.  Or the CEO of a large corporation.” I used the mom prerogative.

I made it a point not to ask him yet, because if I ask him, “What do you want to be?”, I wouldn’t be surprised if he says “Arrgh, pirate!”, his most recent funny phrase, said with a squint in one eye.

Note: I do not have anything against clowns, jesters or fire fighters.  I just want my son to be something else.  I do have something against being a pirate.

While Hubby and I grapple with the news of our daughter’s friend, a six year old girl, suddenly taken by a brain aneurysm, we also dread having to relay the news to our daughter.  Hubby is all for not telling her at all.  We tell her that her friend traveled.  But how long will that hold up when she hears other kids talking about her passing away?  Right now, we have agreed on breaking the news and I’m counting on childhood ignorance to dull the reality when we tell her that her friend has gone to be with Jesus.  However, I plan to delay this as long as possible – until next Saturday, the day before we go to church.

Last night, I picked up one of the books from my “waiting to be read” pile.  The book is Chasing Daylight – How My Forthcoming Death Transformed My Life by Eugene O’Kelly, former CEO of KPMG.  He wrote the book after he was diagnosed with an aggressive form of brain cancer which claimed his life three and a half months later.  During this time, he shifted his priorities, quit his high-powered job and constant travels and focused on living in the moment and connecting with the people who mattered most to him.  He seemed to embrace his reality and chose not to waste his limited energy on questioning his circumstances.  He decided to live the best 100 days of his life.  His wife finished writing the book when he became too weak and after he passed away, and there, the book transitioned from the joy of living to the strangeness of death.  However, there were some important lessons that I took away (from the joy of living part):

Live in the moment
Enjoy what is happening now and stop obsessing about opportunities you missed yesterday or your hopes for tomorrow.  Definitely plan for tomorrow, but don’t let it compromise your enjoyment of today.   Or your focus for today.  It is amazing how much he was able to achieve in his 100 days and I’m considering setting goals for 3 month increments instead of the usual annual goals.  Also, happiness doesn’t have to wait till something happens tomorrow/someday.  You can find it every single day.

Live at full consciousness
Stop and smell the flowers.  Often we’re rushing from place to place that we fail to appreciate the beauty around us.  Sometimes we’re not rushing but we’re just dulled by routine.  A few weeks ago, I had to pick up theater tickets that I had bought over Craigslist and I was going to meet this lady at a halfway point.  The rendevous location requires me to drive from work along my normal route home, but instead of getting off my usual exit from the highway, I continue for another 6 miles.  As soon as I pass my exit, I notice the beautiful fall foliage of the trees.  It is so beautiful that I feel overwhelmed.  I was also puzzled.  Why the drastic change on this stretch of the highway?  The following day on my usual drive to work, I notice that it is equally breathtakingly beautiful along my normal route – I just hadn’t noticed!

It’s not all about speed
He had an funny story about running in a race with his daughter when she was 9 years old.  When his daughter later boasted to her classmates about how she and her dad had finished the race in 1hr 45mins, another boy boasted that he and his dad had run longer for 2 hrs.  It is a light hearted illustration that carries a significant message.

Channel anger into love
His advice to his brother who was angry at the blow he had been dealt was to channel the anger into love…love for his kids, love for what he has.  This has no logical basis.  His brother did have reason to be angry, but I believe he just meant that it was futile to be angry.  He did say he would willingly take a miracle cure if it presented itself but didn’t see much sense in spending his limited time angry, upset, questioning his situation.  Similarly, those who still have life should use it wisely.  Don’t squander away time being angry, wondering “why?”.  Spend that time loving those you love.