Motherhood and Gas

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One of my best friends had her first baby one month ago.

He is the cutest little guy. There is something about a newborn: how they smell, their tiny toes, how they stretch, the little squealing noises they make, and how they mold into you when you hold them. He is so sweet and holding him takes me back to the first few days when my boys were born.

I stopped by last week and hung out with them both; soaking in this little guy, and listening to my friend share her ups and downs of the first few weeks of being a mother. I dished out a bit of advice here and there – but really every baby is so different so sometimes there is no advice to give.

It has not been an easy road for my friend, but she is doing great. One issue that is plaguing them right now is nursing. She has had an incredibly hard time with nursing and subsequently is having to supplement with formula. But formula causes the little guy gas. He is crying and cramping and his tummy is rumbling.

To my friend, this is a big concern. She has switched formulas, tried gripe water, tried to burp him frequently, plays around with his positions, does “bicycle legs” with him for hours, anything to help her little guy. But inevitably he has gas.

My advice to her? That’s life.

He has gas.

Get used to it.

Now I don’t mean that “meanly” at all.

My first son was a relatively good baby. I figured I was doing all the right things. My second son was a really challenging baby. I realized I could do all the right things and it really didn’t make a huge difference all the time.

Wanting to console your child, to protect them, to remove their pain and suffering is what any mother wants to do.

We want to take away their gas. We want to prevent their bruises and scars. We want to wipe their tears and stop them from even flowing. We want them never to feel the sting of rejection or failure. We want them to never have their feelings hurt, to never struggle with school, to never be teased or the target of bullying.

The hardest thing to learn as a mother is that we can’t do the things for our children that we would want most to do.

I felt for my friend, who feels for her little guy who is struggling with a natural baby challenge. She wants to take that pain away from him – but there is nothing she can really do. It’s the natural life of a baby!

It is the same feeling I now get when one of my kids comes home and tells me they didn’t make the team, or one of their friends is teasing them, or they are so anxious about an upcoming test. I wish I could take away their pain and protect them. Some of the experiences I know they need and it will help build their character and develop as people. But it is still hard to sit back and watch them endure the growing pains. Other experiences they go through I question the purpose of why they happen – but the only reason I can come up with is “that’s life”.

As my friend goes through her own growing pains of motherhood, she will begin to realize that she will always face “gas” in her children’s life and often there is not much she can do. She will try to get used to this lack of control but I don’t think you ever get “used to it”, you just get through it (reciting the mantra “This too shall pass”). You learn that you have to roll with the punches, and you begin to see life through a very different lense.

Motherhood completely changes everything about you and how you see life. It’s really hard to explain it until you experience it.

Motherhood changes the way I tell time. I used to look at a clock and think “Oh it’s noon”. Now, I look at it and think “Oh it’s noon, I guess they are having lunch now. I hope they like the sandwich. I hope they remember to drink enough since it is so hot outside”. When they were little and I was working, I would be racing to a client, glance at the clock, see it was 5 after two, think about how they boys were probably napping and hoping that Josh didn’t cry for me again. Then I would think about how I was 5 minutes late for the client, which subsequently meant I would be picking the boys up 5 minutes late that day. Darn it. Ten fifteen is really recess time, three thirty is end of school. Every time I look at the clock, I am thinking about what they are doing. Telling time is simply different.

Motherhood makes you think about everything differently. Seeing my friend start the journey reminded me of that great story my Mom sent me when I first became a mother:

MOTHERHOOD – – IT WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE . . .

We are sitting at lunch when my daughter casually mentions that she and
Her husband are thinking of “starting a family”. “We’re taking a survey,” she
says, half joking. “Do you think I should have a baby?”

“It will change your life,” I say carefully, keeping my tone neutral.

“I know,” she says, “no more sleeping in on the weekend, no more
spontaneous vacations . . . ”

But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to
decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in
childbirth classes. I want to tell her that the physical wounds of
childbearing heal, but that becoming a mother will leave her with an
emotional wound so raw that she will be forever vulnerable.

I consider warning her that she will never read a newspaper again without
asking “What if that had been MY child?” That every plane crash, every fire
will haunt her.

That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if
anything could be worse than watching your child die. I look at her
carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how
sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive
level of a bear protecting her cub.

That an urgent call of “Mom!” will cause her to drop a souffle or her best
crystal without a moment’s hesitation.

I feel I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in
her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might
arrange for child care, but one day she will be going into an important
business meeting and she will think about her baby’s sweet smell. She
will have to use every ounce of her discipline to keep from running home,
just to make sure her baby is all right.

I want my daughter to know that everyday decisions will no longer be
routine. That a five year old boy’s desire to go to the men’s room rather
than the women’s at McDonalds will become a major dilemma. That right there
in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of
independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that
a child molester may be lurking in that restroom.

However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself
constantly as a mother.

Looking at my daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed
the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about
herself. That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her
once she has a child. That she would give it up in a moment to save
her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years – not to
accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs.

I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become
badges of honor.

My daughter’s relationship with her husband will change, but not in the
ways she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love a
man who is always careful to powder the baby or never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic.

I wish my daughter could sense the bond she’ll feel with women throughout
history who have tried desperately to stop war and prejudice and drunk
driving. I hope she will understand why I can think rationally about most
issues, but become temporarily insane when I discuss the threat of nuclear
war to my children’s future. I want to describe to my daughter the
exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike.

I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the
soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time. I want her to taste the joy
that is so real, it actually hurts.

My daughter’s quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my
eyes. “You’ll never regret it,” I say finally. Then I reach across the
table, squeeze my daughter’s hand, and offer a silent prayer for her, and
for me, and for all of the mere mortal women who stumble their way into
this most wonderful of callings. The blessed gift of being a Mother.”

I think that sums it up pretty nicely.

Gas is just the beginning of this beautiful journey.

The Thing About Goals…

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One of the good things about my work as a Speech Language Pathologist, specializing in cognitive communcation, is that I do very real and functional things with my clients. We are working together on their lives – how to communicate better, how to think better, and how to lead meaningful and productive lives.

However, it does mean, that I can’t just be a talker. I can’t just tell them what to do. Well, I guess technically I could, but that wouldn’t make me a very good therapist. I need to be walking my talking. I actually rely quite heavily on my own life experiences: the good, the bad and the ugly.

I feel blessed sometimes to have had the challenges I have had so far in my life as it gives me some perspective, and allows me to try to be more empathetic. It also lets me share ideas of what has worked for me – and what has not.

Being a parent to so many unique individuals – with such unique circumstances – is also really helpful. With many of my younger clients, I find I do a lot of mothering and a lot of my “tricks” come from parenting experiences and parenting books/articles that I enjoy reading.

Because I draw so much on my own life experiences, when I hear of a new strategy or some way of doing things, I need to try it out in my own life.

Years ago, I was introduced to a strategy to help with initiation, follow through and goal setting. It was introduced by two well respected, brilliant men in the field of traumatic brain injury and rehabilitation: Mark Ylvisaker and Tim Feeney. It is called “GPPDR: Goal, Plan, Predict, Do, Review”.

It is something that I have used many times with clients:
– G – Set a small, measurable goal
– P – Make a detailed plan how to accomplish that goal
– P – Predict what can go wrong with your plan and anticipate problems and how you will deal with them
– D – DO it
– R – Review how well you did – what went well, what you would do differently next time.

It is usually quite effective and helpful to write it all out. We are much more accountable to ourselves and get things done when they are written (hence a reason to write lists too:).

The other night at family night, we did the REVIEW portion and reviewed our summer goals. They are all written out and nicely displayed on our kitchen bulletin board. Some of the kids have been doing well with working on their goals – some of them, not so much.

I reviewed my own “summer goals” that I wrote a while back. My plan was to try to accomplish the goals while I was on vacation. Well, one vacation is done so I wanted to see how I faired. And I faired “ok”.

We rented the beach house and it lived up to everything I ever imagined: frolicking in the waves with my fam, relaxing on the sundeck, reading, and eating seafood. I achieved some of my more specific goals (e.g. saying yes more often), but forgot about some others (e.g. finding the positives and vocalizing them to my kids and husband. I can say I think I yelled less often so that must mean I was more positive). Then there were some that got “sorta done”.

As we talked with the kids about their goals and as I thought about mine, it was clear that there were some things we were much better at doing than others. Some things were easy to do – some things harder. Sometimes we forgot what we were supposed to be doing – which speaks to the importance of having reminders and checkpoints to make sure we are on track. Sometimes we didn’t feel like doing them.

And that is ok.

I emphasized to my kids (and to myself) that we will often get off track with our goals. The important thing is that we keep checking in with what our goals are and make efforts to get back on track. I would guess that we are off track the majority of the time! But we should not let that deter us from setting goals, or from getting back on track if we lose our way. We only fail in achieving our goals if we stop trying.

We have another vacation at a cottage coming up in a couple of weeks. This time, I am going to review my goals right before I go and see if I can do a little better on a few that slipped by the wayside.

Quote of the week

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We’re back from vacation and trying to get back into our “routine of the week” – since summer doesn’t really have a routine longer than a week.

Last night at Family Night (we have to do it Tuesdays this summer because soccer is Monday and Tuesday is the only other night we consistently have everyone), Josh asked if there were new cards on the bulletin board. After taking a few minutes to figure out what he meant (funny how he remembers they are there but doesn’t remember that they are called “our quote of the week” cards!), I pulled out this week’s quote. I love that he is asking about them.

This one comes from Rob – it’s from a book that he read a review of and has ordered the book for me. I don’t know what the book is, but I’m excited to get it!

At any rate, here is the quote:

It’s more important to be interesting, to be vivid, and to be adventurous than to sit pretty for pictures”.

We had a good discussion about what we all thought it meant. I think Rob chose this one for me in particular as I am the one who likes things all pretty, perfect and smooth going. He is constantly reminding me to enjoy the journey. Life is not perfect – and that is ok. We can live in a bit of a mess, not get things done right away, and spend some time doing “nothing” – we just need to enjoy it and take pleasure in the small things.

I am getting better at this.

I still love “sitting pretty for pictures” – maybe has something to do with my compulsion to record things. But, a picture that captures the adventure, the experience, the feeling is way better than posing for the camera.

But I don’t necessarily think that “sitting pretty for a picture” is a bad thing either. I like getting some “photoshoots” done as those become my formal portraits. I like organization and order. It allows me to get a lot accomplished and to feel better inside, which in turns brings me some peace. Then I can relax and take pleasure in the smaller things without getting distracted by my own jumbled thoughts and stress.

The key, as as with everything, is balance. I need both: sitting pretty when the occasion calls for it, but making sure to enjoy the adventure, taking interest in the small things, and finding joy in the journey.

Best Friends: A Trip Down Memory Lane

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A little trip down memory lane….

When I was growing up, I lived right around the corner from my best friend, Jennie. We met in Kindergarten and were literally joined at the hip. We did everything together. Being a parent now, I marvel at the things we did and wonder how on earth our parents allowed us to do these things? I know, I know, it was a different world back then.

We used to walk just under a 1 km each way to school every day. AND we came home for lunch: so that’s 4 km each day! Rain, shine, snow, sleet – we did it. Two little girls, talking all the way – stopping for sip sacs at Perrettes or swedish berries at Provisoir. We would be wearing our little school uniforms: blue tunics and a white blouse up to grade 3; then a kilt, white blouse and green vest from grades 4-7. Of course, on cold days we wore jeans under our uniforms – sometimes with cougar boots – which were all the rage in the later years. Sometimes legwarmers too. Yikes.

We weren’t always in the same class and I was always devastated when that happened – but we still managed to be inseparable as soon as class was out. We would still have our walks to and from school and then hang out after school and weekends and holidays. We celebrated birthdays together and never missed a Halloween together. My Dad would always take us out and we would make our rounds until our bags were full of loot.

We sometimes got in fights, but always had our mother’s call each other to help sort it all out – and it always got sorted out.

We spent summer days together – eating the raspberries from her family’s garden (her parents always just assumed their bushes did not produce any berries), swimming in her pool (I think she really taught me how to swim in that pool), playing in the back of their old station wagon, walking to the “depanneur” (corner store) to get chocolate bars (Yorkies), dancing to Carly Simon in her living room, sleepovers at both our houses (my basement was so dark and scary though I often cried) and playing baseball and Rumoli with other neighbourhood kids. Incidentally, I found Rumoli at a Zeller’s not so long ago and bought it! I tried to teach it to my kids – it is quite complicated. We were smart cookies.

Some of the best times were when we went up to her Grandparents cottage for a week. We felt so grown up and independent. We took the row boat out (I seem to recall getting stuck though) and played lots of games. I remember eating the meals her grandmother made us. I also remember going skiing with her family and falling and them having to take me to the hospital;) I think of that every time I get on skis now!

During the year, as we got older, we would go to my house for lunch on Wednesdays and her house on Thursdays. I always wanted grilled cheese there as they made the best grilled cheese ever!!! But my favourite meal was their “Northern Italian Spaghetti”. I was a very picky eater – but I loved that meal! In fact, when I got back in touch with Jen (as she goes by now – although will forever be Jennie in my heart) through Facebook, the first thing I asked her for was the recipe! It continues to be a favourite of mine now – and has become a staple in our house – and is written as “N.I.S.” on our menu blackboard when we have it!

We lost touch somewhere around the beginning of high school. Sadly we drifted apart and then she moved away. We reconnected a couple of years ago on Facebook as I mentioned. Rob and I had the chance to meet up with her (and her parents) at her parent’s home a couple of years back and it was so nice to rewind time and recall all the good stories. It was also really nice to get to know her as a person now.

I look back on those years and think about how lucky I was to have such a best friend. Although my children have good friends, or “best friends”, I see now that my relationship with Jennie was very unique. I was blessed to have her family as an extension of mine as well. Always so welcoming and kind – although I always thought her brothers were a tad scary.

I think about how those years shaped me as a person. Jen is a travel nut now – she also has a bad case of Wanderlust. I told her it must have been something in the raspberries that we ate that gave us both the travel bug. I still love grilled cheese and Northern Italian Spaghetti. I stand in fear at the top of a ski hill (and ski down anyway). I love spending days swimming and traditions on Halloween. I look back with such fondness of my years as a child spent with Jennie. They are such happy memories. I hope that my kids will have some special childhood memories like that.

I also remember us as being very loyal to each other and that I think set the bar for my friendships even now. I am not someone with hundreds of friends – and never have been, but the friends I do have are like family to me. I think that all started with Jennie.

Although we don’t see each other much now, and lead very different lives, I can tell by our few exchanges and interactions that the bond is still there. I guess once you are linked in childhood, you are forever linked.

Thanks for the good memories Jennie. I’m so glad we have reconnected and look forward to making some more memories as adults!

Promises

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After our beach walk on the last night at the Outer Banks, we came inside to have dessert (and all the other snacks we had leftover in the fridge).

We talked about our vacation and whether we wanted to come back. We had had a similar conversation when we arrived – the one where Josh asked me to send him an email to remind about a reunion in the Outer Banks we would have when they were older.

So, after spending the week and loving it, I suggested we all promise to come back out to the Outer Banks to celebrate our 20th Wedding Anniversary (in 17 years). Of course we all agreed we’d like to come back before then – but wanted us all to make a promise for the future too. A promise seals the deal. We all started imagining what we would be doing in 17 years – where the kids would be, what they would have accomplished, would they be married? Families? As we were talking and laughing making up stories about who they would become, Sam started a side conversation with Rob:

Sam – “Dad, you are going to have to give me your phone number, email, and street address so I can have them then.”

Rob – “Don’t worry Sam, I’m sure you’ll have it.”

We couldn’t really hear what Sam had said, so we asked Rob to repeat it – which he did. We all burst out laughing because it was so cute.

Sam seemed a little unsure about why we were laughing so hard –but he turned to Rob and held out his little pinky and said “Pinky swear Dad you’ll give me the numbers and address.”

Rob did a pinky swear with him, and we laughed even harder.

Sam – “I don’t care – Dad did a pinky swear” – as if to say we were all laughing because we thought Rob was lying to him!

I loved this story because A) it is so darn cute and B) I love how in Sam’s mind, his Dad made a promise to him and he knew his Dad would not let him down and would always uphold his promises.

In our house we take “I promise” very seriously. (That’s why I wanted to seal the deal for our 20th Anniversary together with “a promise”).

I’m not saying that it should not always be taken seriously, or that it isn’t always taken seriously by others. But we know around here if someone asks you “Promise?” you have to stop all joking around (if you were) and tell the exact truth.

We often see stories change a little bit, or are less exaggerated, or more details follow….

I also encourage the kids to not overuse “I promise” . Sometimes they will say it out of a habit, or just in passing, and I really encourage them to find a new word or to not use “promise” for a trivial matter.

I also encourage them to not “promise” unless they are absolutely sure they can fulfill whatever they are promising. That way, there is less room for disappointment and being let down – which can lead to trust issues.

I want them to know that a “promise” is not only going to be fulfilled when it’s convenient – or only sometimes. I want them to know when they “promise” – it is a full commitment to not be taken lightly. Ever.

I guess we are particularly sensitive around here about making promises because all our kids have lived through divorce. How do you explain that to them?

They asked: “Did you guys not promise to be together”?

Ummm, yah, but it’s complicated. Hard to say, “Well actually, we kept our promises”. But then it’s confusing because we are now so insanely happy together – was it not meant to be? Big adult questions that I don’t think even adults ever figure out.

But their next line of reasoning always falls to: “Well how can we believe that you guys are going to stay together”?

Initially, they were all sceptical. A promise means nothing right? Josh told Rob one night a couple of years ago, after Rob said he loves me and is not going to divorce me, “You never know Rob, you can change your mind”.

Josh seems to be particularly stuck on this. A few months ago he was reading a series of books for school. The first one was called “Lulu Gets Married”. The next one was called, ”Lulu Has a Baby”. Josh paused and said, “I bet I know the next one” “Lulu Gets Divorced”.

Sad that my seven year old thinks like that – but they all have this insecurity. Kids may be “resilient” about divorce as everyone used to preach to me – which they are – but they certainly don’t get through it without some baggage.

Which makes it even more important for us to show them how important a promise is. With time, maybe they will become a little less jaded. We do see them start to feel more confident and secure in our home, especially as time goes by and it’s not just words we are giving them. It’s our actions, our lifestyle and ultimately our love, trust and commitment to each other. We never want to take a “promise” lightly – no matter what.

I’m glad a “promise” is significant in our home. I’m glad that Sam was totally confident that the pinky swear with his Dad sealed the deal. Nothing to worry about. Dad won’t let him down.

The only thing I’m still wondering is why our two youngest think we are not going to be in contact with them in the future and that we need to give them our coordinates and email them info??? Need to work on that next I think….

Last Day in Outer Banks

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Sad, but true. It is our last day.

So of course, I had to wake Rob up to watch the sunrise.

It was awesome.

Being the last day and all, we did indulge and go back to sleep until all the kids woke up around 8:30.

Today was just a day to enjoy “Our Beach” outside our beach home in Duck. We literally spent hours in the water. Body surfing, boogie boarding, floating and tons of talking. The kids asked for “storytime” in the water with me. This is where they ask me anything and I have to tell them (we used to do this often at bedtime when we all first moved in and the kids had lots of questions – and insecurities – about life as a blended family). We got into some deep topics (again!): divorce (this is always a common one), first kisses, relationships, family, growing up etc. It is so much fun and a great bonding time. Every so often Rob would force us to come closer to shore…you know…sharks and all.

We had a quick lunch and break. The kids went back out and swam more and built a sand airport, a sand man, and a sand hole.

At one point they started a “throw the sand game”, where they each had a “chance” to sit in a certain spot and get sand thrown at them. Don’t ask -but they loved it….

For dinner we had some of our favorites: crab, shrimp, corn and the yummy crab dip (from Dockside N Duck) on crackers.

After dinner I made everyone go on a sunset walk on the beach to take some pictures (but first I got a big splinter and Rob had to remove it – it was excruciating – so I put on quite a show for all the kids).

We got some cute pics:

Nighttime was a farewell to the beach. I know what I wished on this last “Starlight, Starbright” night….

Good bye Outer Banks. Til we meet again.

Second to last day:(

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I can’t believe our time here is coming to an end…almost. We are just starting to relax. We really need to take two full weeks.

I peeked out our bedroom window and saw the beautiful sunrise this morning. Didn’t want to disturb sleeping Rob beside me. I had a bit of work I wanted to get done (downfall of being self employed) and I work best in the morning, so I got working.

When Rob woke up, we went for a run on the beach and were joined by Josh. Highly unusual for him to be up – but he was excited to get the chance to run by himself with us. He is a good runner, so keeping up is not a problem. Near the end he kept asking me which one was our house. “Poor fella”, I thought, “we’ve tired him out and he wants to know how much further”. I pointed the landmark out and started to encourage him that he could do it! But he wasn’t worried about that. He just took off. He actually wanted to know where the house was so he could sprint ahead and leave us slowpokes behind.

After breakfast we headed out to Kill Devil Hill to go to the Wright Brother’s Monument and Visitor Centre. This is where the Wright brothers first took flight in 1903. We walked around a bit, then headed to the monument. It was sure hot, so the kids were a little whiny.

Josh was really the only one who wanted to get out of the air conditioned car to check out the replica around the other side of the monument. So we got a bunch of photos with him.

Of course, as soon as the others saw you could climb up the replica (at least there were no signs that said you couldn’t), they all popped out of the car and came running to get their picture taken!

We headed back to have some lunch, and a little quiet time (I’m pooped) before we headed to explore another beach.

We went a bit north of us to Corolla beach – known for it’s soft sand, calmer surf and wide beach. It certainly was all that – and crazy crowded. The kids at first didn’t like it. Zandra said “It’s sort of a beach for grandparents and grandchildren”. But since we had hauled all our stuff in the 40 degree heat, we were staying.

The calm surf sort of grew on them though. There were still waves to surf, but you could also float around a bit. The kids were quite impressed with my ability to float on my back for a long time bobbing up and down with the surf. They were all worried I was going to float off so were constantly calling me. With my ears under the water though – they were faint, muted “Mom’s” and “Leah’s” so I pretended not to hear. Josh came out and dragged me back in a few times. Rob has everyone a bit paranoid about sharks now….

Speaking of Rob and sharks….While we were out in the water, I asked my wonderful, compassionate, caring, perfect hero of a husband, what time it was. I then noticed he had no watch on. And no wedding band. And no family ring which he always wears on his other hand. I asked him why? He responded, “I took all my bright shiny stuff off”. His reasoning – which I already knew: to not attrack sharks! However, he took care of himself, but never mentioned a word to his WIFE who was wearing her blingy wedding rings as well as her kid’s charm bracelet(I have a bracelet with all the kid’s initials on it that I NEVER take off – along with my wedding rings). So the sharks will go for me – but not him. Nice.

At any rate, the kids found a bunch of tiny clams and played with them for a while. They also did some “skateboading” on their boogie boards in the shallow water, jumped more waves and tortured each other. Everyone is really tired today – so just a bit more snippy and/or annoying.

We stopped for some groceries on the way back and also went to Duck Donuts so the kids could all select their own donuts – which they all loved. We relaxed a bit at home before having some burgers and fries for dinner at “Baldie’s”. Really tasty.

Around sunset time, Rob and I took a walk on the beach. It was so gorgeous. We’re going to get the kids out there tomorrow night to get some pictures. Unfortunately, I forgot my camera, so my heart was taking a thousand pictures, soaking up the moment: walking hand in hand with the love of my life, the pinky sky, the soft sand, the gentle surf at our feet. Cheesy I know, but it was picturesque and so romantic. Luckily, Rob never goes anywhere without his phone, which I remembered and we were able to get some of these shots:

Even though some of the shots are not great (and many look the same!), I wanted to include them as they bring me right back to the moment. And that is what this blog is for: to bring me back to every moment I don’t want to forget.

I’m reading a good book right now called: “Wanderlust: A Love Affair with Five Continents” (heard about it from my old childhood best friend Jenn – or “Jennie” as I always knew her – will have to write a post on this great gal). There is line in the book that I will steal:

“My impulse to record was almost on par with my impulse to travel”.

And that is me. I love to travel AND I want to capture every moment of our lives. I don’t want to miss a thing. Even if it’s not a great photo, it reminds me of the photos I have stored in me that I can pull out at any time. Even if the story or the writing is mundane or boring, it can remind me of all the little details that I never want to forget. I’m so glad Rob had his phone tonight to capture our sunset walk (normally I complain about him always having his phone!!)

The evening ended with our traditional nighttime beach trip. I tried to get out of it as I was tired – but the kids love the tradition and they know how I love when they love the tradition ….

I’m gonna miss these days – and nights.

One more day and night to cherish.

I am a Cub Mother

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I just finished reading “Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother” by Amy Chua.

It is a book that brought up a lot of controversy in the recent past in the media. She got a lot of flack about some of her tactics.

I have to admit, I did gasp at many of her examples, and dropped my mouth in horror at a few others. I shared some of her examples with my kids on our little road trip down to Cape Hatteras. They were pretty mortified and strangely fascinated. I liked sharing with them though because it made me look so much nicer. They were actually begging me for more stories from her book. Gabe even wants to read it (passing phase I know).

But there were a lot of things I found myself nodding my head with agreement, and then sharing them with Rob, and then sharing them with the kids as well.

I have always thought of myself as more of a “strict Mom” – in some things. And I know I am compared to some people in some things. Not compared to Amy Chua, but compared to some of the other Mom’s I know. Not that it is a bad thing – it’s just the way things are.

I emphasize some things, because I think we all choose our battles and choose what is important to us. Then, we are strict in those areas based on our own values. So I don’t like to generalize to say “I’m strict” because in some things, I am not strict enough. I guess it’s all relative.

In the book, she compares and contrasts the “highly generalized” Chinese mother: strict, demanding, unrelenting; with the “highly generalized” Western mother: less consistent, less demanding, more permissive.

So if Amy Chua is a Tiger Mother (Tiger = the living symbol of strength and power, generally inspired fear and respect), perhaps I can say I am a Cub Mother? Does that work? I think of myself as pretty demanding and strict, with some consistency, compassion, fun and love thrown in the mix. I checked it out with the kids, and they agreed being a Cub Mom – strict but cuddly too – could work. (And yes I know when she refers to a “Tiger” she is referring to the animal of the year she was born…I myself am rat according to the Chinese year I was born – but I don’t want to call myself a “Rat Mom” – it just sounds so very wrong – so I’ll stick to my own spin on the Tiger thing).

Some of the things I loved in the book:

The Birthday card story: I loved this story and shared it with my kids because I think her point is extremely valuable. Her husband makes dinner reservations at some mediocre restaurant for her birthday (because he had left it too late to get into a really good restaurant) and her daughters give her some lame, half hearted, thrown together, handmade birthday card. Now many mothers would praise anything their kids give them, and shower them with gratitude for the card. But instead she says:

“I don’t want this, I want a better one – one that you’ve put some thought and effort into. I have a special box, where I keep all my cards from you and this one can’t go in there”….” What if I gave you this for your birthday – would you like that? But I never would do that. No – I get you magicians and giant slides that cost me hundrds of dollars. I get you huge icecream cakes shaped like penguins, and I spend half my salary on stupid sticker and eraser party favours that everyone throws away. I work so hard to give you good birthdays! I deserve better than this. So I reject this.”

Wow. Hard core. But think about it…is it not true?? Why do we as mother’s lower our expectations and allow our kids (or other people for that matter) to treat us like that? Do we not deserve better? Do our children not need to learn how to treat us – which in turn influences how they treat their future spouses? Whenever I think I am being hard on my kids, I ask myself, do I really want them to accept the lowest common denominator? Or should I not teach them to expect more as they deserve more? I am trying to teach them their value – their infinite worth – so why should I undervalue my own?

I shared the story with my kids, so from now on I expect incredible birthdays….

She goes on to say “It’s too idealistic to expect children to do the right thing on their own”. They need to be taught the proper way of doing things -and sometimes that means letting them know (maybe not so harshly though?? Although sometimes that seems to be the only way to be taken seriously?!). We teach people how to treat us – so if we want to be treated well, we need to demand that. Of course, I think we can make a much better point by not acting so poorly in demanding that respect. But the main point is valuable I think.

Other points I loved:

“What Chinese parents understand is that nothing is fun until you are good at it. To get good at it you have to work, and children on their own don’t want to work, which is why it is crucial to override their preferences….Things are always hardest at the beginning, which is where Westen parents tend to give up”.

Or even worse, we allow our young children to give up. We struggle with this in our household. We have a firm policy that you stick with what you start. If you don’t like it, we won’t sign you up again (after some serious discussion), but there is no dropping out halfway in between. Unfortunately we have no say in what happens outside our home; we have seen all the kids drop activities in the middle because they are “too bored” or “didn’t like it” or “it was too hard”. Since we have no say for these activities, there is not much we can do except reinforce that we don’t support that.

And why don’t we support that? Because of another point the Tiger Mom makes that I love:

“Western parents worry a lot about their children’s self esteem. But as a parent, one of the worst things you can do for your child’s self esteem is to let them give up. On the flip side, there’s nothing better for building confidence than learning you can do something you thought you couldn’t”.

I also think you need to teach your kids about committment, reliability and responsibility – all things that can get shoved under the rug when you let them drop or give up on things.

She goes on further: “Western parents try to respect ther children’s individuality, encouraging them to pursue their true passion, supporting their choices, and providing positive reinforcement and nurturing environment”.

I think that sounds spot on about how I want to be as a parent. At the same time, I agree with what she says next:

” By contrast, Chinese parents believe that the best way to protect their children is by preparing them for the future, letting them see what they are capable of, and arming them with skills, work habits, and inner confidence that no one can take away”.

Hmmm, I want to be this parent too. There must be a way to marry the two ways? Something to really think about how to balance….

She does do a little rant about getting good grades, and while I certainly don’t believe in the tactics of verbal abuse, shame and a hair tearing explosion, I certainly feel this is an area I can improve on. Kids need to be clear on our expectations, and when we set mediocre ones, they will rise to mediocre standards.

This past year, Rob and I have upped the ante on grades. It was a little hard going in as a blended family for this one, as again, both sides have different expectations. (OK- I have to admit, my ex is pretty much on the same page as Rob and me with most things – so it is always easier for that side of things). We decided regardless of what is tolerated in the other home, we have certain grade expecations that need to be reached. And guess what, almost everyone met our expectations this year. Everyone certainly made big improvements towards those expectations, so we think of “raising the bar” as being a real success. And the bar continues to be raised (we felt we had to do it a bit more gradually to help them develop the study habits they were lacking to be as successful as we now expect). We are rewarding the process and effort and not just the grades as we know grades can be arbitrary. But clear expectations are the way to go. Then supporting them in meeting those expectations. That certainly was very clear in the book. While the expectations are high, the Chinese mother is there every step of the way – no child is left to fend for themselves.

Those were some of my favorite parts – parts I guess that resonate well with me because I felt them, but she verbalized them so well!

There were parts that I clearly did not agree with: empty threats. This woman is crazy with her threats! I’m good with threatening my kids, but also very careful to only make threats I can follow through on. I have a running list in my head of “what is important to that specific child” i.e. their currency, – so if I threaten to take it away – it is meaningful.She threatens outrageous things that she can never follow through on. I am a big believer in consistency – the kids always know, if I say it, I am prepared to do it. I think in the end it gives the kids security – they always know where they stand. No surprises.

She also has a very odd view on happiness:

“Happiness is not a concept I tend to dwell on. Chinese parenting does not address happiness“.

She then goes on to say she questions whether children raised the Western way are any more happy? She thinks not. I’m not so sure.

What I do know for sure, from my own belief system is that happiness is the whole purpose of everything. Happiness – although hard to define – is the absolute goal. A state of peace. Being content. Being loved, admired and adored. Feeling grateful. Feeling secure. Feeling satisfied. Laughing. Learning. Loving. Having joy. Giving all those things right back freely to the ones we love. All those good things I associate with happiness – that to me is the ultimate goal. I think she completely missed that. Although ironically near the end of the book she comments while watching her daughter play the piano, “That’s my girl – she’s happy; the music is making her happy. Right then I knew that it had all been worth it”. So I guess happiness is the ultimte goal afterall.

One last thing that struck me. She tells her husband at one point while forcing her daughter to practice her music:

“I’m willing to put in as long as it takes, and I’m happy to be the one hated. And you can be the one they adore because you make them pancakes and take them to Yankees games”.

That to me was such a sad statement. I’m all about saying to my kids “My job is not to win the popularity contest. My job is to be your mother – not your friend.” But I don’t think that means being hated. I don’t think one parent should be the only one providing the structure and discipline while the other gets to be the “fun parent”. There is joy in being the fun one – but there is joy in being the strict one too. I don’t think it’s an either or situation. You need to have a balance of both.

I love reading books like this as it really makes you think about how you parent and why you do the things you do. There is nothing that compares to parenting. We have been entrusted these children for such a short period of time, and we have a responsibility to teach them the best way possible. So that means we need to brush up on our skills and make sure we are the best parent possible – set our own expectations high and put the effort in on a daily basis.