Womze – Cross Cultural Parenting

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.

I feel like a fraud writing this post under the potty training label, but for consistency sake, I’ll leave it as-is.  I feel like a fraud because I am obviously not potty-training anyone at the moment.  I hoped to, I tried to, and I’ve decided to pick my battles.  And potty-training is not one of them.  So, what I’m saying in short is, Baby Brother still exhibits no sign of potty progress.

Actually, that statement is wrong.  Every now and then, when we’re hurriedly getting ready for our day, he would declare, “I want potty!”  That statement no longer gets my hopes up.  But I’ve also made a decision not to bar him from trying – even when when we’re running late. 

“I want potty!”, he would say once I get his pajamas and diaper off.  He would setup his toilet seat, position his step stool and maneuver himself unto the toilet seat.  Then he would demand, “Book!”

I’ll get him a book, he would flip through to the end, then declare, “Done!”

I’ll look in the toilet, knowing there’d be nothing, but hoping there’d be something.

I’ll tell him what I always tell him after these episodes.  “Potty is for poopoo and peepee, ok?”  “OK”, he would reply.

But the following day, the same scenario plays out.  And I suspect that the boy knows exactly what he is doing.  So, I’ve got no strategy other than wait for him to decide that he is ready to go.

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.

As I drove home earlier this week, feeling drained after a really long meeting at work, I decided that we would have to skip swimming that night.  I just felt like enough is enough with all the running around, running late and we would just kick back and relax tonight.  My daughter was disappointed since this is her best activity (and I’m hoping that quickly translates into her picking up the skills we’re in class for).  But at the end of the day, I felt like my decision was definitely worth it.

After dinner and homework, instead of running out the door, we headed upstairs, changed clothes and both kids climbed into bed with me.  Hubby was out of town.  I enjoyed reading a magazine while the kids fooled around (doing what they do).  Then my newly turned 2-year old came over to see what I was reading.

“O!”, he pointed out a letter O on the cover page.  He knows his shapes and I’m wondering why and when he started calling a circle O.  “O! O! O!”, he repeated as he pointed out several Os on the page.  I smile at him in acknowledgement and continue to read when he begins a round of “A! A!”, pointing at the As on the page.  This got my attention.  I clapped in excitement.  Big sister scooted over to see what was going on.  Baby Brother, enjoying the attention showed her the Os and As.  Then, “E!”.  Even though he was pointing at an F, I was pretty impressed. 

This experience made staying home absolutely worth it and I felt shamed that I do not spend enough time with him.   At the same time, I am thankful that I have access to such great childcare.  Our neighbor who runs a home daycare does not just watch him, she puts a lot of effort and energy into teaching and she’s got incredible patience with the kids.  Thanks to her efforts, I’m seeing that Baby Brother is not just funny, he’s also very smart.  The week before, Hubby and I were shocked to discover that Baby Brother could count to 20.  He usually counted to 10 and we would all clap in celebration.  But this time, Hubby and I were busy and did not clap at 10.  When Baby Brother said “Eleven”, Hubby and I dropped what we were doing and listened in astonishment as we went to “Twenty”, at which time we went crazy with applause.  He looked so proud.

According to my 6 year old daughter, her Baby Brother is now transitioning from baby-toddler to toddler-baby as he turns 2.  She understands her reasoning even if I don’t, but what this meant was that we had our 2 year old well-child visit and the doctor gave us the go-ahead to begin potty training.  “Sometime between 2 and 3 is a good time to start”, she said.  The hand-out I was given said to watch out for the signs of readiness which include dry naps and grunting or straining after meals.  Hmm, I handn’t realized that grunting was one of the signs to watch out.  Grunting.

We got home and had dinner, after which Baby Brother proceeded to grunt.  “Do you want potty?”, I asked.  He ignored me.  Afterwards, the smell confirmed that he had pooped.  “Next time, you tell mommy you need potty.  Okay?”, I told him in a pleasant but matter-of-fact tone.  He looked like he understood.  Perhaps, it is indeed potty training time.  I allowed myself to hope.  I recall that recently, he has been telling me after he goes, at least, most of the time.  This is definitely an improvement on when he comfortably sat in his stink.  Hope.

The following day, we have dinner, he has post-dinner snack, he has milk, then changes into PJs and fresh diapers.  Then he begins to grunt.  Yes, he’s grunting, he’s ready for potty.  I intercede.  “Let’s go to the potty”, I put on a sweet voice.  “No!”, he barks at me.  At the same time grunting increases, he’s pushing and he does not like my interference.  “Potty.  You poopoo in potty.”, I’m getting firmer.  He gets more aggressive.  “NO!!”  This time his legs are shaking due to the magnitude of the job.  Then he’s done.

“Next time, you poopoo in potty.  Okay?”  He smiles at me.  His ordeal over, he becomes his pleasant self again.  I lead him into the bathroom where we get him out of his one piece PJ.  I extract the diaper.  I show him where the contents should go next time.  I ask if there’s more, if he wants to sit.  He shakes his head and tells me no.  I clean him up and grab a new diaper.  As I pick up the clean diaper, he shrieks, “potty”.  He decides to give the potty a try afterall.  He sits and he sings.  He looks very happy.  I wait, I sing with him, I wait.  But nothing.  “Get down?”, I ask.  He says no.  I walk out of the bathroom and he yells out, “done.”  I pick up the diaper and he scrambles back on the potty again, excitedly chanting “no no no.”  Ha!  I see his game plan – he thinks so long as he sits on the potty, he can remain butt-naked, a state he likes.

Enough of taunting this mom with potty hopes.  I grab him and strap a new diaper on him.  I’m done till he begins his next grunt.

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.

I could hardly wait for the first teacher conference with my daughter’s new teacher at her new school.  Last school year, discussions with her teacher were uncomfortable because we seemed to be on different pages.  In my estimation, the teacher wanted my child to be average.  I wanted my child to be exceptional.  Two very different goals.  New school, new grade, new teacher, I felt that things were different but I needed to confirm.

As I had hoped, conversation flowed easily with the new teacher.  The teacher had feared that the decision to allow Darling Angel skip kindergarten may turn out to be wrong but thankfully, she was coping incredibly well, both socially and with her school work.  The teacher pointed out the first grade word list we had been given at the beginning of the school year and remarked that since Darling Angel had already mastered all of it, she has upgraded her to the second grade word list.  That’s what I’m talking about!  Keep her challenged.

Then the teacher asked me if there was any area where I thought Darling Angel needed some help.  And I told her, “She needs to learn patience.”

“Exactly”, Teacher chimes.  I’m loving this.  We are so on the same page.  I visualize us holding hands, singing Kumbaya.  We trade stories to illustrate Darling Angel’s lack of patience.  Like when she had the homework to color a brick wall using a pattern of three colors.  She spent ten minutes complaining about how long it would take.  Also she zips through to her homework so quickly, leaving some questions unanswered in the process. 

“How do we fix that?”, I ask.  Teacher tells me that to an extent, it is normal with kids at this age.  But every little effort helps.

Hubby already suggested giving her even more ‘homework’ at home so she can exercise her patient muscles.  Given that homework is often happening while doing dinner, cleaning, getting ready for tomorrow, I haven’t implemented the more homework strategy yet.  She needs to learn to focus on what she is doing instead of worrying about the next task, which is often TV.  Or fractions, which are not in this year’s curriculum. 

I hope she naturally improves over time, but we also plan to enable the improvement.  I just haven’t decided what the plan is.  I’m still basking in relief that we made the right decision in moving her to a new school.  And instead of working at odds with the teacher, we can work together in partnership to bring out the best in my child.  Amen!

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.