Line em up

October 15, 2014November 10, 2014 / smithei / Leave a comment

There was a time in my life when I wanted everything to be perfect. You know the phrase “have all your ducks in a row?” I would be the person making sure that the distance between them was exactly 3.5 cm. Then I had a child and started adopting the motto “better done than perfect.” Not only did I become more pragmatic but less of a pill.

The long and short of it is that life is not a three act play where people are going read their lines and behave the way you want on cue. One of the most exciting aspects of life is the concept of free will and the ability make autonomous choices once you reach a certain age. Wanting that dinner to go according to plan or that party to work out exactly so will just put you in a tizzy. Tightly wound people will be the death of me I swear.

This is not to say that I don’t have great expectations. I am my own harshest critic and expect a certain level of decorum and achievement from myself. The only thing I take more seriously than my own success is the responsibility of parenting. I like doing things well and this is one task that I do not want to fail at. I’ve always been able to remain calm because most of my frazzled self happens below the surface. Now, this does not mean that I’m not sometimes a spazz. Highly driven people mostly are. My husband recalls how most of his childhood friends were spazzes well into high school and they are now all well-adjusted, kind, high-achievers. They are very good men. So what can be considered strong-willed can be guided towards leadership and motivation if handled intelligently. I love C’s spunk, though sometimes parenting him requires the patience of saints. But, the last thing I want is to raise a mindless follower whose very identity depends on meeting normative benchmarks. I remember when I was young I always wanted to know why I could or could not do something. Being entrenched in an Asian household this was obviously defined as being impertinent but it really wasn’t. I just wanted to reason and determine if what was instructed of me aligned with my values. There’s nothing wrong with thinking for yourself.

But if there’s anyone that I want to be perfect for it’s for my son. Hell, I would work three jobs if it meant that he received a private education. It is up to me to provide him with as many opportunities as possible, to be an enabler. Gaining high cultural capital is work but it is a form of enrichment and a life-long project. I’m here to build up the conditions for these engagements.

So of course having a perfectionist as a mother will come with some pressure but those who know C best understand that he already recognizes precisely what he wants. I don’t think there is a danger of him living for his parents.

Maman

September 26, 2014November 10, 2014 / smithei / Leave a comment

I feel that my son will thank me down the road for not being bat-shit crazy. Well, that is my sincere wish, lets see if it is the outcome. I hope that he reflects in his twenties that I had certain expectations for his behavior but above all my semi-relaxed parenting style allowed him to find his way. That I taught him not be afraid to make mistakes and respected his need for some semblance of a private life.

Those are my overarching goals but I have to negotiate the toddler years first. There was a phase when I read so many parenting books and ended up thoroughly confusing myself. After some research the consensus is that everyone will tell you how to do things but you need to decide which strategies work best for you. We all need to come to terms with the fact that families are built on interactions between different temperaments. We cannot help but have an impact on each other so you might as well lead by example and accept that even if you try, you cannot always present the best version of yourself. Accept that you are human.

The French methods observed by Pamela Druckerman in “Bringing up Babe“ have influenced me greatly. She has it right in thinking that many North American parents are obsessed with indulging their child’s every whim. We as parents, especially mothers, are expected to bleed ourselves dry till we cannot sacrifice anymore. What kind of life is that? I’m sorry but I have no desire to live for my child and trust me, they will not be grateful for your overbearing ways.

In France, parents respect their child’s individuality and therefore try to create a relationship that considers their personality and preferences. But to define one’s identity you need to have both hard limits and a great deal of freedom. The French love their paradoxes non? But it makes sense because if there were no rules how could anyone play the game? Plus we live in a society where we are accountable to each other, so play nice. Clearly these boundaries vary according to age but overall time-outs are warranted when the child causes physical harm or disrespects someone else. Patience is key especially during the toddler years when they are still learning the social mores. But I like that within this system you frame why they cannot do certain things because they don’t have the right to. For example, your child does not have right to hit another child, Billy does not have the right be make fun of someone’s physical appearance. Having discussions of this nature also involves speaking to your child in an adult manner and about concepts of considerable depth. At all ages we need reminders that we strive to live in a respectful way.

Now, they lump together the rest of the behavior as some of annoyances and inconveniences that come with childhood. Yes, they will probably be messy and have sensitive moments but that is part of the package. Would I still explain to C why he cannot spread jam all over my walls (which he hasn’t by the way)? Yes, because I don’t want him to go over to my friend’s house and do the same. I don’t have the right to bring my child over to vandalize. But the important lesson is to always explain why and in turn encourage him to ask why.

So many people have children and don’t want to actually parent. It is not my job to be C’s friend. It is my duty to try to lead him while providing him with some agency and most importantly to love him. There will be times when he doesn’t like me very much, but that’s alright. Self-worth and good values are far more important.

Lighthouse

August 15, 2014November 10, 2014 / smithei / Leave a comment

You will be astounded by the kindness of others when you are expecting your first child. They will throw you parties, knit you afghans and you wonder how you came to be so blessed with such good people in your life. Trust me, you pinch yourself more than once. What no one talks about at the baby shower is what I call the ‘fog.’ They don’t mention the fear and confusion that can dot the landscape of those first few months. No one will bring up how absolutely shitty times can be. Now, I’m not speaking of post-partum depression or those who only experience fairy tales and butterflies (really?) but that place in between where most of us end up. When things aren’t bad but they aren’t good either.

I call it ‘the fog’ because this phase is characterized by the struggle to form coherent thoughts and sentences. When you’re in the midst of this haze you can forget about analyzing theoretical frameworks and writing it all down. Now, I rely on critical thinking to complete my degree and this wasn’t exactly the best place to be. Suffice it to say, I was discombobulated. Feeling like you’re slowly losing parts of yourself is never pleasant. I only resurfaced and reclaimed my brain precisely when childcare was sorted, when qualified and beautiful women helped to raise my son at daycare. When these role models loved and kissed him so that I could work. This post is for them and for my early childhood educator who played a vital role in forming the individual I am today.

My former nanny usually only stays with children till they are four years old. This is strategically sound. They don’t remember her too well but are old enough to occupy themselves after nursery school and to hang out with the housekeepers. She stayed with me for two extra years and although they were wonderful, it added to the trauma when she walked away. I still remember pushing desperately at the locked gate, when I kept calling her name. She never turned around and only got further away. Her name is Moe Moe, and she is a strong, brilliant, kind woman. When she attended my second wedding reception in Yangon and I held her hand, I was happy and whole.

So all you politicians, help a sister out and invest in child care. Help women recognize themselves again and contribute to society in a positive manner. To all those North Toronto mothers, treat your Filipino nannies well. Don’t yell at her on the street. She’s a grown-ass woman and trust, it does not reflect well on you. Give her respect, a home, a room with a view and remember that she left her children to help you. That she’s a mother too.

By the ounce

August 6, 2014November 10, 2014 / smithei / 2 Comments

You will never care what others think more than when you’ve had a child. The tendency to let other people influence you is usually kept in check for most other aspects of our life. But when it comes to parenting it does not let up. You’re lucky if it becomes background music and not a blaring noise. This is one instance when you hope for the Kenny G. You know those mothers who pretend that they have it all together? They are in even more trouble than the rest of us.

So why it is that we let those opinions impact the way we behave? I have a colleague named C whose son is a similar age to mine. Entering the twos I was describing all of these strategies that I’m using to counter the potential for emotional melt downs. I explained that I have a low threshold for humiliation. She laughed and said, she doesn’t, that she’d probably be rolling around on the floor with him. I loved it. She realized that I was more afraid of the people’s stares and judgements than the actual act of picking my son off of the grocery store floor. I was afraid to be deemed a terrible mother.

But you know what, I’m not a terrible mother and neither are you. Of course there are times when we are not at our finest, when we’re tired, grumpy or slightly bored. But most of us are trying our very best with the lot that we’ve been given. As mothers you’re programmed and pressured to internalize all of the advice and criticisms thrown at you. But the bearers of this enlightenment are not the ones raising your kid so try to turn them into elevator music and choose which suggestions are constructive. I hope by the time my son is ten the racket will barely be a whisper.

It all begins in the delivery room. Birth announcements cheerfully advertise the birth weight and apparently larger numbers are the goal. That one’s worth as a parent begins with an eight pound baby. When I first saw my son’s crying face I thought he was the most beautiful person I had ever seen. I could not stop crying. It was only when people started to visit and worried that he was too “small” that the doubts began. He was a healthy weight considering that he was born two weeks early and the tests all demonstrated that he was in great condition. But see, you lose sight of all that as soon as society enters your hospital room. Then the doctor’s visits every three days begin and you start counting the ounces like everything depends on it. All of these measures exist to ensure the safety and well-being of the child but we’re conditioned to attribute the emotional toll as part of motherhood. That you just have to buck up. And of course supplementing your child is frowned upon. Nursing is not easy but you know what’s harder? The guilt they lay on you when you want other options to support the breastfeeding. My mother tried to reassure me and I pretended not to worry. I said that babies become men so I was fine. If only I actually believed my words. He is now a solid two year old and I feel silly for tying myself into knots before. But for any mother currently in those first few months, I just want to say, you are doing a great job. You are beautiful. Keep on keepin’ on.

Raising a man

June 2, 2014November 10, 2014 / smithei / 2 Comments

I have no qualms admitting that I’ve always thought that I was better suited to raise a daughter. For my entire life I’ve just related more easily to women and it’s not surprising. My parents are both one of 5 children and all but one had daughters. So basically, I was amongst an army of girls and empowered, smart girls at that. Men, well at least men I’m attracted to, always turn me into gobbley goop. In fact I’m even surprised that I managed to get married and if I wasn’t, the dating world would have eaten me alive.

So, when I found out that I was having a son, a part of me was a bit nervous. God, I didn’t even know how to shop for his clothes. Me. Not knowing how to shop for clothes. Well, it’s two years later, I’ve figured all that stuff out and I feel like the luckiest person in the world to have C. in my life. I would never say that he is easy. When he was in the womb the doctor always marvelled at how strong and fast his heart was. Well, he came running into the world, ready to live and know everything. I think he practices the concept of “joie de vivre” better than most people. But with that strong will comes frustration. Thankfully, he gets frustrated less easily now because he has the language to articulate his questions, opinions and charm. To me he’s smart, lovely and at times my everything. But I am conscious of all the pressures and expectations that he’ll face in his life. Therefore, I try my best to prepare him for it all, to have the solid foundation of his parents to turn to when he’s finding a place for himself in this world.

I once told one of Andrew’s colleagues that I’ve always wanted a daughter because of my politics and feminist beliefs. She said something to me then that made so much sense. A mother of two sons herself she said, “I want to raise kind, good men because I think that’s important too.” And it’s so true. We can always use more men who are secure enough to not be intimidated or slighted by strong women. We need men who love women and themselves, not their ego. He definitely has a great role model in his father. My husband has never been afraid to take chances and to find a path that reflects his wants and wishes. He is secure enough in himself that very few things bother him.

Unfortunately, so much of the performance of masculinity is based on disrespecting others. So that’s what I’m trying to counter. In truth, I will be the first to sign him up for hockey, soccer, golf and ski lessons. It’s not necessarily because I expect him to act a certain way, I just want him to be around driven people and to be inspired by them. What’s wrong with expecting excellence in yourself? People speak so much of the negativity of pressure but there are positives to competition too. I will try to teach him to acknowledge his fears but to overcome them. Because lets face it, growing up as a male in North America he will be taught soon enough that he can’t fear anything. There are always rewards to performing a certain type of masculinity and I want him to find himself amongst all of that but to strive for more. So he’ll play the piano, learn to appreciate art and what makes the world beautiful and worthwhile. I hope that he will understand his privilege and the different (not lesser) state of others in the world.

Because there’s going to be a point when my job will be done and he’s going to have to decide what is right or wrong for him. I’m just trying to equip him with the empathy, morals and values to influence those choices. That’s when I hope our relationship will change. Where we are there for him as parents but that he will have his own life and privacy, much like we have ours. This is when we can’t and won’t really judge his decisions anymore. I’ve always told my husband that I’ll know that we’ve done a good job if he wants to vacation with us, to spend time with us. But at the moment he’s my snuggle monster and that’s my favourite part of the day. It’s when we’re lounging in bed, when he’s in my arms telling me about his friends, toys and snacks at daycare. You, me and Freud know that this won’t last forever but I hope that he’ll grow up not being afraid to treat others well, that it doesn’t make him a lesser person. Knowing that love does not make him weak.