When I read the review for the book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother in Entertainment Weekly, I didn't believe it. Surely the reviewer left out some key details. No mother would admit to calling her child garbage or rejecting homemade birthday cards and then write a book about it. I immediately put myself on the waiting list at my local library. I just finished the book the other day. It turns out, the reviewer did not leave out any key details. Those incidents happened.
For those not familiar with the book, Amy Chua is a first-generation Chinese-American. She decided to raise her daughters the "Chinese way." To put it simply: she wanted to be stricter and more structured than "Westerners."
Some of her ideals aren't so bad. Her children could not get any grade less than an A. As extreme as it sounds, I don't think it's bad to have high standards for your children. However, having struggled with certain subjects in high school, I can also tell you sometimes expectations have to be amended. She pushed them in school, in music, but I understood her theory of not letting her children give up based on their own insecurities. (In other words, sometimes you need your parents to push you in order to succeed).
Other rules left me baffled. Her daughters could never have play date. Why? With school, music lessons and practice (sometimes three hours a day of practicing their instruments), they simply didn't have any free time. They couldn't be in a school play, complain about not being in a school play or choose their own extra curricular activities.
As for the garbage incident? It happened and it's brutal. Chua says during her own childhood she was disrespectful to her mother. Her father called her "garbage." As a mother Chua employed this same tactic with one of her daughters. She told this story at a party and one of the other guests was so upset for her daughter that she left in tears.
It's Chua's youngest daughter, Lulu, who receives the brunt of any negativity associated with her child rearing tactics. While the oldest, Sophia, seems to be a "model daughter" who blossoms under the "Chinese way," Lulu is quick to push her mother's buttons. She questions. She argues. She wins from time to time. Sophia recently wrote a piece in defense of her mother for the New York Times. That's all well and good, but I would much rather hear what Lulu thinks of all of this.
It's easy to simply write Chua off as a "bad mother." I will give her credit for putting it out there for the world to judge. Still, I wonder if she realized not a lot of us would be on her side. Even toward the end of the book, as she is "humbled" by a 13-year-old, she still seems to think everything she did was right and will have no ill affect on her children. I know that my daughters are not going to look back on my parenting skills and always sing my praises. What child does? I just hope that with the tactics I've employed, I won't have the need to write a book about the wrongs I've committed!
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
January 24, 2011
December 07, 2010
The Phrase I'm Banning from My House
I used to think Not Me was the phrase I want extinguished from my daughters' vocabulary. Not Me is the child responsible for every naughty thing in my house. Who made this mess? Not Me. Who pulled this decoration off the tree? Not Me. You get the idea. But I say bring back that demon child and her naughty ways if it means I can ban a different phrase: But mom!
It never fails. Whenever I tell my daughters to do something, I am greeted with a resounding chorus of "But Mom!!!" You need to go to your room for a five minute time out. But mom! It's time to clean up. But mom! I could tell my daughters it is raining lollipops and they would still answer me with "But mom" before running to the window to see this once-in-a-lifetime event.
I finally reached my breaking point one day. I told my daughters I did not want to hear them "But momming" me. (If they were just a few years older, I'm sure that request would have been met with a chorus of giggles or snide comments). I might actually be making some progress. The other day one of the girls gave me her standard "But mom...." reply. I looked at her and said "Excuse me?" She thought about it for a minute, rolled her eyes and did what she was told. Hmmmm.... eye rolling. It's not a phrase, which means I could ban "But mom" (phrase) and eye rolling (gesture) for life.... right?!
It never fails. Whenever I tell my daughters to do something, I am greeted with a resounding chorus of "But Mom!!!" You need to go to your room for a five minute time out. But mom! It's time to clean up. But mom! I could tell my daughters it is raining lollipops and they would still answer me with "But mom" before running to the window to see this once-in-a-lifetime event.
I finally reached my breaking point one day. I told my daughters I did not want to hear them "But momming" me. (If they were just a few years older, I'm sure that request would have been met with a chorus of giggles or snide comments). I might actually be making some progress. The other day one of the girls gave me her standard "But mom...." reply. I looked at her and said "Excuse me?" She thought about it for a minute, rolled her eyes and did what she was told. Hmmmm.... eye rolling. It's not a phrase, which means I could ban "But mom" (phrase) and eye rolling (gesture) for life.... right?!
February 01, 2010
Mom? Mooomm? MOMMMMMMMM!
Some days I think I need to change my name. I'm not sure what I would call myself... anything but mommy. I know... that's terrible, right? It's just that some times I think if I hear another person yell "Mom? Mommy?" I might just lose it.
Here's a typical experience in my house:
Everyone is entertained, playing with dolls or quietly reading a book or something and I take the opportunity to leave the room (bathroom break, fold laundry, figure out where the cats are... take your pick). Then this happens.
"Mom?"
"What?"
"Mom?
"What?"
"MOOOMMMYYYY!!!!"
"WHAT?!"
"Where are you?"
"Upstairs."
"Mom?"
"What do you need?"
"I love you." Or "You're my best friend."
Hmmmmm... on second thought I guess I'll just keep going by Mommy.
Here's a typical experience in my house:
Everyone is entertained, playing with dolls or quietly reading a book or something and I take the opportunity to leave the room (bathroom break, fold laundry, figure out where the cats are... take your pick). Then this happens.
"Mom?"
"What?"
"Mom?
"What?"
"MOOOMMMYYYY!!!!"
"WHAT?!"
"Where are you?"
"Upstairs."
"Mom?"
"What do you need?"
"I love you." Or "You're my best friend."
Hmmmmm... on second thought I guess I'll just keep going by Mommy.
December 15, 2009
Opinions are Like....
If you are a parent and you have never been given unsolicited advice, you are a rare commodity. Family, friends, neighbors, complete strangers have taken it upon themselves to tell me how to raise my children. I know I am not alone in this situation.
The first time a stranger gave me unsolicited advice, I was floored. My daughters were released from the NICU just before Christmas. We were living in northern Michigan and it is cold, cold cold during that time of year. To keep them warm and to prevent looky-loos from touching my daughters with germ-infested hands, I made the decision to use a product called Bundle Me. It's a cover that goes over infant car seats. It was wonderful. It kept my daughters warm when we had to venture out and I could simply pull the cover over their faces to keep them hidden if people so much as thought about sneezing in our direction. Then it happend. I was sitting at a medical appointment with Cakes, minding my own business. Truly, we only ventured out that winter for appointments, but with four preemies we had plenty of appointments to go to. As I sat waiting for our name to be called, a woman came over, sat down next to me and started lecturing me on the dangers of my Bundle Me. She said she was a NICU nurse and has seen children suffocate in these things. (Oh really? Then why is the product still on the market? Yes, you have to be careful when covering an infant with a blanket, but PUH-LEEZ). I let her blab for awhile. Then I looked at her with an amused expression and asked her if she was a NICU nurse at the local hosptial. No, she replied, a bit confused, she worked in a different state, why? So I proceeded to politely tell her that if she was from northern Michigan she might recognize me (you know, TV anchor and all) and would know that all four of my newborn daughters had just spent a significant amount of time in the NICU. During that time, I explained, I had many lessons on the special care preemies need and had gone through infant First Aid and CPR training as well. I showed her that Cakes was in fact breathing, picked up the infant carrier and moved to a different seat.
I'm sure some would argue that if you think a child is in danger you should speak up. I don't disagree, but to this day I do not appreciate the way that woman handled the situation. Essentially, she spoke to me like I had no idea what I was doing as a parent. Parenthood isn't easy. It's a lot of learning on the fly. There are dozens of proper ways to do the same thing. I don't have my daughters nap any more. It doesn't work for us. But I don't judge parents of other kids who aren't willing to budge on nap time. I let my daughters watch TV, other parents think TV is corrupting our kids. I could go on and on about the things I do that you may do differently.
I'm curious how many other parents have found themselves on the receiving end of awkward, inappropriate, unsolicited advice.
The first time a stranger gave me unsolicited advice, I was floored. My daughters were released from the NICU just before Christmas. We were living in northern Michigan and it is cold, cold cold during that time of year. To keep them warm and to prevent looky-loos from touching my daughters with germ-infested hands, I made the decision to use a product called Bundle Me. It's a cover that goes over infant car seats. It was wonderful. It kept my daughters warm when we had to venture out and I could simply pull the cover over their faces to keep them hidden if people so much as thought about sneezing in our direction. Then it happend. I was sitting at a medical appointment with Cakes, minding my own business. Truly, we only ventured out that winter for appointments, but with four preemies we had plenty of appointments to go to. As I sat waiting for our name to be called, a woman came over, sat down next to me and started lecturing me on the dangers of my Bundle Me. She said she was a NICU nurse and has seen children suffocate in these things. (Oh really? Then why is the product still on the market? Yes, you have to be careful when covering an infant with a blanket, but PUH-LEEZ). I let her blab for awhile. Then I looked at her with an amused expression and asked her if she was a NICU nurse at the local hosptial. No, she replied, a bit confused, she worked in a different state, why? So I proceeded to politely tell her that if she was from northern Michigan she might recognize me (you know, TV anchor and all) and would know that all four of my newborn daughters had just spent a significant amount of time in the NICU. During that time, I explained, I had many lessons on the special care preemies need and had gone through infant First Aid and CPR training as well. I showed her that Cakes was in fact breathing, picked up the infant carrier and moved to a different seat.
I'm sure some would argue that if you think a child is in danger you should speak up. I don't disagree, but to this day I do not appreciate the way that woman handled the situation. Essentially, she spoke to me like I had no idea what I was doing as a parent. Parenthood isn't easy. It's a lot of learning on the fly. There are dozens of proper ways to do the same thing. I don't have my daughters nap any more. It doesn't work for us. But I don't judge parents of other kids who aren't willing to budge on nap time. I let my daughters watch TV, other parents think TV is corrupting our kids. I could go on and on about the things I do that you may do differently.
I'm curious how many other parents have found themselves on the receiving end of awkward, inappropriate, unsolicited advice.
November 20, 2009
Why the Double Standard?
When this issue first came to light over the summer, I debated whether I really wanted to open the topic up for debate on my blog. But a new article in a parenting magazine has me ready to start a discussion.
I'm talking about women, specifically moms, who drink. In July, a New York woman died in a crash that also killed four children and three other adults. Apparently the woman was legally drunk and impaired by marijuana. There is no excuse for what she did, no justification. But after this case made the news, suddenly various media outlets pounced on the trend of moms who drink. Moms. Not parents. Moms.
I sat down yesterday to read my latest issue of Parents magazine and found myself staring at an article titled "Playdates with Cocktails." The article highlights women who get together and consume alcoholic beverages while their children play. First of all, who are these moms and where do they live? During the playdates I've attended we barely have time to use the bathroom, let alone toss back a few cold ones. I'm not saying that there aren't moms out there who don't crack open a bottle of wine while they're all hanging out, but I have a hard time believing this happens on a daily basis in every suburb of America.
The thing that bothered me most about this article is that there are pages devoted specifically to women who drink. At the end of the article there is a small blurb about the message dads who binge drink send to their children. The message I'm receiving? It's OK for dads to crack open a beer, or two or more but the second mom does it we need to be outraged. Think about football Sunday. The stereotype is a "family man" blowing off steam with his buddies by sharing a few beers (or in the case of my neighbor, opening up the kegerator to the men in the neighborhood). But if moms take a night to share Cosmos with friends, they should be chastised.
I'm well aware that alcohol abuse is a serious problem. I don't condone drinking and driving. I don't think it's a good idea for parents, well, really anyone for that matter, to drink themselves to oblivion. But I also don't think there's anything wrong with enjoying a glass of wine at the end of a long day or having a cold beer with your dinner, whether you're male or female.
Everything we do as parents influences the decisions our children will make later in life. Whether you binge eat, smoke, swear, speed... and, yes, drink. It is all absorbed by our children.
Clearly I am one of the moms who partakes in a glass of wine on occaision. I drink in moderation and I don't hide it from my daughters. One of them asked me once if she could have a sip of my juice (they drink a lot of white grape juice, I was drinking a Chardonnay). I explained to her that I was drinking wine and wine is for adults. Case closed... for now. Perhaps by not making alcohol taboo, I'll have opened up a better line of communication when I need to start having "those" talks with my girls. So, let the discussion begin....
I'm talking about women, specifically moms, who drink. In July, a New York woman died in a crash that also killed four children and three other adults. Apparently the woman was legally drunk and impaired by marijuana. There is no excuse for what she did, no justification. But after this case made the news, suddenly various media outlets pounced on the trend of moms who drink. Moms. Not parents. Moms.
I sat down yesterday to read my latest issue of Parents magazine and found myself staring at an article titled "Playdates with Cocktails." The article highlights women who get together and consume alcoholic beverages while their children play. First of all, who are these moms and where do they live? During the playdates I've attended we barely have time to use the bathroom, let alone toss back a few cold ones. I'm not saying that there aren't moms out there who don't crack open a bottle of wine while they're all hanging out, but I have a hard time believing this happens on a daily basis in every suburb of America.
The thing that bothered me most about this article is that there are pages devoted specifically to women who drink. At the end of the article there is a small blurb about the message dads who binge drink send to their children. The message I'm receiving? It's OK for dads to crack open a beer, or two or more but the second mom does it we need to be outraged. Think about football Sunday. The stereotype is a "family man" blowing off steam with his buddies by sharing a few beers (or in the case of my neighbor, opening up the kegerator to the men in the neighborhood). But if moms take a night to share Cosmos with friends, they should be chastised.
I'm well aware that alcohol abuse is a serious problem. I don't condone drinking and driving. I don't think it's a good idea for parents, well, really anyone for that matter, to drink themselves to oblivion. But I also don't think there's anything wrong with enjoying a glass of wine at the end of a long day or having a cold beer with your dinner, whether you're male or female.
Everything we do as parents influences the decisions our children will make later in life. Whether you binge eat, smoke, swear, speed... and, yes, drink. It is all absorbed by our children.
Clearly I am one of the moms who partakes in a glass of wine on occaision. I drink in moderation and I don't hide it from my daughters. One of them asked me once if she could have a sip of my juice (they drink a lot of white grape juice, I was drinking a Chardonnay). I explained to her that I was drinking wine and wine is for adults. Case closed... for now. Perhaps by not making alcohol taboo, I'll have opened up a better line of communication when I need to start having "those" talks with my girls. So, let the discussion begin....
August 31, 2009
The Surreal Life
Every now and then I have moments where I am hit with the realization that I am indeed a mother. It happens at the strangest times. The day after giving birth to my daughters I had to call to add them to our health insurance. It was a really strange thing to say "my daughters." The first time I heard myself called "Sue-Sue's mom" I didn't realize at first that I was the one they were referring to. This past January when we experienced what I now refer to as Barfbash '09 I was hit with the realization that I am the mommy and I have to pull myself out of bed in the middle of the night to do laundry and clean up vomit.
Last week I had another one of those moments. I had a concern about how something was being handled at school. After talking with the teacher (who gave me her full support but was at a loss for solutions) she suggested I call the principal. I don't know why, but it was a bizarre experience for me. Not only did I call the principal, but he listened to my concerns and came up with a remedy almost immediately. Then the next day during the school drop-off he came to talk with me and follow up on our phone conversation. The entire time he was talking to me all I could think was "Wow. I really am a parent! I'm talking to the principal and he's treating me like an adult."
All joking aside, yes, I do know on a daily basis that I am a mom. Still, every now and then I find myself in situations where it hits me like a ton of bricks... and I wouldn't trade it for the world.
Last week I had another one of those moments. I had a concern about how something was being handled at school. After talking with the teacher (who gave me her full support but was at a loss for solutions) she suggested I call the principal. I don't know why, but it was a bizarre experience for me. Not only did I call the principal, but he listened to my concerns and came up with a remedy almost immediately. Then the next day during the school drop-off he came to talk with me and follow up on our phone conversation. The entire time he was talking to me all I could think was "Wow. I really am a parent! I'm talking to the principal and he's treating me like an adult."
All joking aside, yes, I do know on a daily basis that I am a mom. Still, every now and then I find myself in situations where it hits me like a ton of bricks... and I wouldn't trade it for the world.
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