Womze – Cross Cultural Parenting

How do you tell your child, not yet 6 years old, that her friend is gone?  How do you tell her that the summer play dates which we could never make time for last summer will now never happen?  That the friend she looks forward to seeing every Sunday in church will no longer be there?  That the tea party they have been planned for months is just that…a plan? 

I can’t remember any other time since I lost my mom that the news of a death has hit me as badly as it did.  A 6 year old girl, healthy, cheerful, full of life.  I’m not particularly close to her parents but admire them from a distance.  But our kids look forward to playing together on Sundays.  “When it’s summer, when school’s out”, we told the kids when they wanted to visit each other’s homes.  Summer came but we were too busy.  Every Sunday, we would mutter a “One of these Saturdays.”  The kids, meanwhile made their plans.  My daughter had a bag packed, ready to go.  It contained doll hairbrushes, some hair accessories, teaspoons and other tea party supplies.  Then summer was over.  “Next summer we’ll do something”, we consoled the kids.  But now, there is no next summer.

A healthy six year old girl.  Bade goodnite to her parents and gone by morning.  Scary…because it reminds you that nobody is immune.  Life is fleeting.  Don’t wait till next summer.

My heart is heavy.  This hurts so much.  But worst of all, I cannot imagine what the parents are going through at this moment.  I pray God gives them the strength to get through it.

Sometime between now and Christmas, there is Thanksgiving, my son turns two and my daughter turns 6.  My daughter has been planning her dream birthday for almost a year.  She didn’t have one last year since we were still recovering from Baby Brother’s first birthday, so we think she we should execute some of her plan this year.  Some.  But my point is, I’m ways off from planning Christmas.  But what better way to get in the Christmas spirit than to enter giveaways. 

5minutesformom is hosting a Christmas Giveaway and I’m salivating for the Veggie Tales collection.  Imagine all the hours of healthy TV I can impose on the kids without them getting bored (the older one is now needing a steady stream of new content to prevent boredom).  And Darling Angel will love love love the Strawberry Shortcake doll and i-dog.

Okay….I’m off to enter into the giveaways rather than just talk about them.

As parents, we need to beware of the danger of too much negative feedback.  It’s so easy to provide immediate feedback when your child does something wrong while staying silent when they do things right.  It is so important to provide positive feedback to your child and enough of it so that when the time comes for the negative feedback, that won’t be the only feedback they’re receiving from you.

Personalities of our children vary and some children may be more susceptible than others.  You know your child best and should pay attention to what they are hearing from you.  Is it helping the child build self confidence or destroying it?  Is it making them better at what they’re doing or is it making them afraid to try?

I thought I was doing okay in this department but I just realized how very easy it is to fail.  “Remind me to get that CD out of the trunk”, I told my 6 year old daughter as we drove to church.  I had cleaned out a lot of junk (CDs included) from the car and dumped them in the trunk for later sorting.  And Baby Brother seemed to be whining for the Backyardigans CD. 

On our way back home, I remembered.  “You didn’t remind me to get that CD out”.  Silence.  Then I glance back and see tears streaming down her eyes.  Alarmed, I ask, “What’s the matter?”

“I’m always forgetting things”, she lamented.  She’s blaming herself for something that is so obviously my fault.  But then, I transferred that blame to her without thinking.  I felt so awful.  What kind of mother am I?  While this incident was completely trivial, I couldn’t help recalling all the times I had just casually dinged her for forgetting something.  “Didn’t I ask you to change into your nightie?”, “You forgot your sweater in class again?”, “I thought I asked you to get a book for your brother?”, “What did I tell you about leaving your shoes in the living room?” etc.  And when she tries to blame me for forgetting something e.g. “Mommy, you forgot to give me a snack today”, I throw it right back, “Well, you should have remembered to ask me.”  Terrible.

Some of the feedback she had received was clearly warranted.  She needs to remember to put her shoes away and not leave them lying anywhere.  And when it’s bedtime, she needs to change to her nightie instead of staying glued to the TV.  But she also needs a praise for the times she’s doing great.  And she does get some but I have to admit that the negative feedback overwhelms it.  Which is unfair because she’s a really great kid and 95% of the time, she is doing just great.  And I take it for granted.  I shouldn’t.

In the car, I tried to play catch up on the praise side.  I reminded her of all the times she’s remembered to tell me what she needs to take to school, she’s hardly ever forgets to pass on her teacher’s instructions, she remembers to put on her seat belt, she remembers rules, she remembers her spellings and how to do her math.  She remembers stuff from years ago, she amazes when she narrates incidents that happened when she was three or four years old.  She’s got an amazing memory and I reminded her of that.  I also reminded her of all the times that I forgot things and she had to remind me.  I reminded her that I also forgot about the CD.  Everybody forgets somethings sometimes, I explained.  By now, she no longer appears upset.

And I’ve learned a valuable lesson in the process.

I’ve been rather impatient for my almost two year old toddler son to talk.  My impatient is partially attributed to expectations set by his older sister who was speaking rather well (as far as memory serves me) at the same age.  Everyone keeps telling me that boys speak later, boys potty train later, but I don’t wish to get into these stereotypes at this time.  However, since we are experiencing a prolonged period of babble-talk with my son, I can’t help marvelling at the sophistication of his ‘language’.

He clearly knows what he wants to say.  And I’m starting to understand a lot of what he says.  But it baffles me that I cannot repeat words the same way he pronounces them.  His consonants are soft, it’s as if they were not even uttered.  Yet they were there.  When he says “Stop it mom”, it’s not quite STOP.  The ST combination is there but different.  It’s uttered so delicately I cannot reproduce the sound.  And that’s what gets me thinking – the fact that I cannot reproduce the sounds he makes.  If my vocal cord is more developed, more advanced, should I not be able to make my advanced sounds as well as the less advanced?  Does advancement make us lose the ability to create delicate sounds that are similar and yet distinct?  Or have we simply lost our ability to listen for these differences, hence lost our ability to generate the sounds?

I don’t know.  But I feel we are born with the ability to generate a much broader array of sounds than we end up with as we grow.  The language spoken around us as kids help us select the sounds we keep and the ones we discard.  These are just idle thoughts that pop in my mind every now and then.  But this morning as I listened to NPR on my drive to work, I heard about a research conducted on new born baby cries in France and Germany.  It was found that the language spoken influenced the way the baby cried.  So at birth, babies were already discriminating in the sounds they made.  Which means the vocal cords at birth are more sophisticated than previously thought.  The research, it appears, was carried out in mono-language environments - French and German.  Where a child is exposed to multiple languages, does this automatically set the child up for a greater degree of variability in sounds he can make?  Kinda makes sense.

As for my son, perhaps I should stop harping on about how he should be talking like the rest of us by now.  And let him enjoy what appears to us as babbles for a little time longer.  Perhaps, when he emerges from his babble phase, he will be emerging with two languages – English and Yoruba – despite my lack of attempt at making sure I propagate Yoruba to my kids.

My daughter came to me after school, “Mom, guess what!”

“What?”

“Next week, we’re going to learn how to do research”, she pronounced.

“That’s wonderful”, I thought to myself that they were indeed keeping them busy in first grade.  I started to wonder how much more time I would need to dedicate to taking her to the library to do research.  Then I asked, “So, do you know what research means?”

“It means google.”  Duh!

Five days after the November 1 time change and I haven’t reset my wristwatch.  And my bedside clock.  And the clock on my dashboard.  And I’m loving it.

If I’ve ever wanted to squeeze more than 24 hours into a day, fall back is the perfect time to do so.  For weeks, I’ve been running behind time, now I’m running ahead without changing my pace.

I wake up at 6am.  As I start to think, “Oh no!  I overslept.”,  I remember that the time is actually 5am and I’m up early instead.  Instead of rushing the kids into the car and giving Darling Angel a pop tart to eat while I drive her to school (she loves this by the way), we now sit down and eat breakfast and I get to work on time.  On time!

Okay, so it hasn’t even been a full week and I’m here proclaiming fall-back love.  Will it last until time catches up with us in Spring?  Probably not.  But for everyday it does, I’m loving it!

“Mom, do we celebrate halloween?”, my daughter queried.  She looked apprehensive as if she feared the answer but just needed to be sure.

Last week
The previous weekend we had attended a halloween/pumpkin carving party where I carved our first pumpkin and thoroughly enjoyed it.  I had even gone to the pain of buying her a costume.  It was a pain because I had to visit two stores before finding a costume.  My plan was to go to one store and pick the first thing that I saw except that store was already out of costumes…a week before halloween!  I toyed with the idea of dressing Darling Angel in last year’s costume but felt I owed it to her not to repeat the same costume for the 3rd year in a row!  You see, I had bought a Tinkerbell costume, size 4-6 and she had won it when she was 4 and then 5 (each ocassion at a different school). 

At the second store, there were still a number of costumes left, then I became choosy.  There was no point buying another size 4-6.  A size 7-8 also has the potential for lasting two years.  I picked the only non-gory costume in a 7-8, a blue princess costume.  And picked up a candy cone costume in 3T for Baby Brother.  Since he’s just turning two, this item also has the potential for lasting two years.

Back home, I announce to Darling Angel, “Guess what?  I got you a costume!”

She lighted up as expected.  “What is it?”

“A princess.”

“Which one.  Is it Mulan?”

I said “No.”

“Is it Snow White?”

“No.”  With each No, her face darkened.  I got the costume out.  “Ta da!”

“It’s nobody!”, she exclaimed in disappointment.

“Well then, you can be princess nobody.  But this is what you’re wearing to the halloween party.”

“Ok.  But I think my Tinkerbell costume is more halloweenish.”

Apparently, she wasn’t impressed with my halloween shopping skills, but she went to the party as Princess Smart (she preferred that to Princess Nobody) and had a blast.  Baby Brother detested the thing that I tried to put over his head and kept wrestling to take it off but otherwise he also had fun.  I had enough fun to make me consider bending my personal “won’t be caught in costume garb” policy for next year and wear a t-shirt with a pumpkin picture (or something benign like that).   Anyway, I digress.

Nigerians don’t trick-or-treat
I reminded my daughter of the fun we had last week, but she persisted.  “I know, but do we celebrate halloween?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Do we go trick or treating?”  Apparently, that was her main concern.

I laughed.  “You know I’m from Nigeria and we don’t do that.”  I may be softening halloween policies but it doesn’t extend to cruising the neighborhood and knocking on doors, with or without costume.

Darling Angel started to cry.  The tears were flowing strong.

I gave her a hug.  I explained myself.  This is just something I wouldn’t do.  I had seen a flyer from the Childrens Museum and they were having a halloween party complete with spooky science experiments.  I asked Darling Angel if she would rather go to that than trick-or-treating.  “Children’s museum!”, she chose.  Her smile returned.  The tears receded.  Crisis averted.

The old halloweenish costume
The tinkerbell costume did get worn for the 3rd straight year.  When it came to what she would wear to school for halloween, Darling Angel stood by her more halloweenish option.  Princess Smart didn’t cut it.

No halloween in Nigeria?  Are you sure?
I’ve told friends and colleagues that in Nigeria, the closest we have to recognizing halloween is reading the ocassional newspaper article which would describe this ‘odd tradition’ and the lengths that Americans go to celebrate it.  Then I was telling my aunt about Darling Angels question and she commented that halloween is now celebrated in Nigeria.  Really?  I don’t have any details but I wouldn’t be surprised if it is true because Nigerians love everything American.  Eventually, those newspaper articles must have planted ideas of how to become more American-like.

“So what are you coming dressed as?” my colleague asks.  I had just accepted his invite to a halloween party.  In the 7 years that I’ve been in the US, this will be the first halloween party I’m accepting an invite to.  I don’t feel the excitement around halloween and my Nigerian self thinks it’s ridiculous.  While I was in Nigeria, every now and then, a column will appear in the paper describing this strange and curious celebrations in which Americans indulge.  In fact, I recall a story I heard from someone about an American lady who had just been appointed the principal of a secondary school (think middle school/high school) in Nigeria.  On halloween, she decided to throw the students a treat and had people (perhaps teachers and members of staff) dressed in costume.  While students were at their daily morning assembly, the costumed individuals trooped out.  But instead of excitement from the students, a stampede ensued as everyone ran for their lives.  Well, I wonder why nobody warned the Principal that this might would happen.

“What are you coming dressed as?”, my colleague asked again.

“I could come dressed as a pedestrian.”

Disappointed look.

“I don’t have any costume…I don’t dress for halloween…In fact I’ve never been to a halloween party…I don’t think I want to dress up…” I let out a string of excuses.

“How about you wear your African dress?  You can come dressed as an African woman.  That would be great”, the excitement was building up.

“I don’t know…”

“It will be excellent.  Do it.”

One part of me is thinking, “Not a bad idea.  That way I don’t have to wear something I feel ridiculous in and it is an opportunity to show off my culture”.  But the other part of me is hesitant…I wasn’t sure why, so I thought about it some more.  And I realize why.  From my perspective, halloween costumes are ridiculous or bizzare or based on fictional concepts, and at the very least, they are not things we would wear at any other time (unless you’re in a drama production).  Wearing my ‘African dress’ as a halloween costume would imply that my attire fell in the same category.  Which it does not.  So, no, I’m not doing it. 

I plan to outfit my kids in appropriate costumes while I stick to my original plan of dressing as a pedestrian.  As for hubby, he’s happy to have a reason to decline – study.

My parenting philosophy on education is this – Push the kids as far as they can go! This means stretching them beyond their present limits, introducing them to advanced concepts early to give them a headstart. And of course, providing them with plenty of opportunity to practice their learnings, through homework both assigned by the teacher and additional work given at home. Do I sound like I’m extreme? Fortunately, I’m not. I do believe this philosophy, but I just don’t have the time and energy to practice it after a full day at work. And on weekends, if the million things that have to be done don’t have to be done, then I like to relax. Since I do not have the time to provide my kids with all the stretching opportunities I imagine, I appreciate it greatly when the teacher does it for me.

At the beginning of the school year when Darling Angel started 1st grade, we attended a parent-teacher orientation. I couldn’t contain my grins of joy when the teacher rattled off all the subjects that would be taught, the techniques and the homework – lots of it. Wonderful! Barely two months of school have gone by and I’m now singing a different tune. Enough with all that homework!!!

The homework is not difficult, just reinforcement of what was taught during the day. In fact, by the time I pick Darling Angel up most days, she has already completed most of her homework. But there are the hands-on activities that she’s supposed to do and describe to the teacher the following day. These require adult (i.e. my) supervision or interaction. Activities such as dropping various objects in a tub of water to see which would sink or not. Or quizzing her on a comprehension essay that she has read. Or playing explorer and discussing the objects we discovered.

These are fun and excellent activities for kids and every night, there is no end to Darling Angel’s whining when we do not have time to complete the assigned activity. “But mom, I’m supposed to put stuff in water! Mom, I need to tell my teacher which ones can float!!” “But mom, I need to explore somewhere!!!” While I say, “Shh, go to bed.”

I titled the post, “Homework versus family time”, but in reality, on weekdays we do not even have family time. School ends at 2:45pm but I do not pick Darling Angel up until 5/5:30 because…you guessed it, I work. Then we pick up Baby Brother and head home. It’s dinner time and if hubby is already home, then lucky us because dinner will be done. If not, I’m making the fasted thing I can think of while Baby Brother belts himself into his high chair and chants “eat eat.” While cleaning up, Darling Angel holds up her homework papers in my face. “See mom.” I try to stare at it long enough to figure if she got her sums right and her spellings correct. “Good job”, I giver her a verbal pat on the back while we get ready for bed. As I start shooing the kids into bed, she reminds me of the homework activity that’s not yet done. “There’s no time”, I tell her. She pulls a long face and goes to bed.

The next day when she says, “My teacher said I am supposed to see what things can float”, I feel like an incompetent parent. But there really was no time. And when there is a little time, I am beginning to resent this intrusion of homework into what should be a treasured family time. I love homework, but this I hate.

An article on USAToday advices that “parents approach the teacher in a non-confrontational way, as a collaborator in the education process.” That is what I have to do.

As I got ready to go on maternity leave almost 2 years ago, I thought to myself, this would be a great opportunity to study for this certification exam that I have been thinking about. I went online and ordered the book I would study. The last excuse I needed was not having study material.Baby came. 10 weeks rolled by…very quickly…and it was time to return to work. Then I remembered…”didn’t I get a book in the mail I was supposed to study?!” I pulled it down from the shelf where it had been staring at me unnoticed for weeks and hurriedly browsed the first chapter. “I’ll just have to incorporate the study into my time now, somehow.”Another 18 months rolled by. This time, the exam was not forgotten. Instead, it was a nagging monkey hanging on my back, whispering in my ears every now and then, filling me with guilt. Attempt after attempt to study failed, study groups fell apart as members backed out for various reasons, pushing off exam dates. “I’m going to try for the next one. This one is too close.” But the monkey wouldn’t let go. So I picked a date and announced to the world (i.e. my colleagues and my bosses) that I was taking the exam on that date. I needed them to hold me accountable.But I didn’t figure out how hard studying would be when you have kids, two of them and a full time job. My plan revolved around studying after the kids went to bed except I was often too tired at that time to retain much information. It’s incredible how much a day in the office drains energy.

Getting to work earlier to study for 30 minutes or an hour would have been a great strategy…if I could swing it. As it was, I was barely making it to work on time and I was leaving many things undone just to do that (such as giving my kid a pop tart to eat in the car instead of a good breakfast – not good). Staying later to study was also not a good option because it meant my kids spend even more time at daycare – not acceptable. Hubby’s schedule does not allow him to perform drop-offs and pick-ups except on rare ocassions.

This left trying to cram in some study time during lunch. Which meant eliminating working out at the same time. Which meant my energy level began to dip – counter productive. Which meant it became even more difficult to study at night. Ouch!

But this is not all about complaining. I did do what I could to study, it just turned out to be more challenging than I had imagined. These were the strategies that worked:

1. I put together a study group at work that planned to meet for 2 hours weekly for 17 weeks. Since this group met during work hours, I got my boss’s permission to spend time on this activity. When this group started to fall apart, I kept using that time to study/review practice questions.
2. I purchased audio material that I could listen to while I drive. I drive about 30 minutes each way to and from work so this translated into very valuable study time. I wasn’t always focused on the voice streaming knowledge into my head, but some things got through.
3. I woke up early or in the middle of the night to study. I could do this only if I went to bed as soon as I put the kids in bed. This was most effective when I put the kids in bed at 7:30 and after bedtime stories, they’re asleep by 8pm and I’m asleep shortly after and I wake up at 1am and study for 2 hours. Then I can go back to sleep for a short while before waking up to begin my day. When this worked, it was the most effective study approach. But the problem was that it didn’t work often enough i.e. it was often difficult to fall asleep at 8pm or wake up at 1am. However, I am very grateful for all the times I could do this.
4. When all other strategies were found not be enough, I started taking off days from work…one day each week for the 3 weeks leading up to the exam. Without these, I don’t think I would have ever felt ready to sit for the exam. Actually, that’s an overstatement…I never did feel ready but I would have felt a lot less so.

Last Saturday, I sat for the exam and the monkey is now off my back. And as I await my results, my fervent prayer is that the monkey stays off.