I Am Sooooooo Not a Tiger Mom

 So, this week I am writing about what it means to me to be a good, or good enough, parent.  Before I pontificate, let me begin by saying that parenting is the hardest thing I have ever had to do and I question myself every hour of every day whether I am doing an okay job.  I want to be a great parent, as many others do, but what does that even really mean?  There are so many different factors that go into parenting (the age of the parents, socioeconomic status, family support, community support, race, etc.)  And so I use the term "good enough" because no one is a perfect parent, and we all have different ideas about how to raise kids that won't one day shoot up an unsuspecting elementary school.

I needed a jumping off point to begin the discussion in my head (see "pontificate").  It got me thinking about an article that was printed in the Wall Street Journal several years back about the "tiger mom" way of parenting.

 (see http://online.wsj.com/news/articles/SB10001424052748704111504576059713528698754  ).

The article, entitled "Why Chinese Mothers are Superior," is an excerpt from a book written by Amy Chua, entitled Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother.  I remember the controversy surrounding the article and the extreme reactions people had to her espoused parenting methodology.  I thought it would be provocative to force myself to read the article without judgment and in spite of my own parenting differences.  So, I read it.  And I read it again.  And I read it a third time.  Each time I was able to tone down my reactions and really focus on what successful parenting means to other parents out there, especially what it means to this Ms. Amy Chua.   Also, I wanted to understand the author's viewpoint because my husband was raised in a similar fashion by his very traditional Korean parents.  Are her ideas, though controversial, good ideas and could I embrace any single one of them?  Does my husband practice any of these concepts and is that a good or a bad thing? I am a sucky parent, just an okay parent, or am I actually doing something right with these kids?

The "tiger mom" article begins with a list of things that Ms. Chua's two daughters were either never allowed to do or were required to do, amongst them some very typical "American" childhood activities.  There were no play dates, no sleepovers, no sleepaway camp, no grades less than an A, no choosing extracurricular activities, no watching TV or playing on the computer, no participating in a school play, no boyfriends; additionally, they must be the top student in all classes except gym and drama and absolutely MUST play either or both the violin and piano.  Ms. Chua explains that this list serves as a guide to her style of "tiger mom" parenting, which, in sum, goes something like this:  the parent must be obeyed and made proud by the child, the child is not allowed an opinion as the parent knows "what is best", the parent must "punish" and "shame" the child in order to make the child excel, the parent must drill the child on tasks until mastered and the child must submit to this, "nothing is fun until you're good at it" and being good at "math, piano, pitching or ballet" "builds confidence and makes the once not-fun activity fun,"  and finally, though in direct conflict with the title of the article (that being that her parenting style is "superior"), Ms. Chua explains that her model is just "entirely different" than what she coins as the western style of parenting, though if followed, will produce "stereotypically successful kids."

After my third reading of the article, my first thought was of a story my husband told me regarding his father's parenting "style," shall we say.  My husband was born and raised in South Korea.  He immigrated to the United States when he was 11 and spoke no English.  Though, he was the top ping pong player in Illinois.  Why?  Because, as a young boy, his father had him join the national Korean ping pong team, for which he practiced 8 hours a day until the day he left Korea (it is a little mafia-esque over there - once you are in, they don't let you out).  His father was very invested in my husband's success with ping pong, feeling the losses heavily, such that, once, when my husband lost a big match, his father spit on him.  I asked my husband, innocently, what he thought of this.  Quietly, he said that it made him hate his father even more than he already did.  He didn't want to play ping pong anymore.  But his father made him play and play and play.  What started out as fun for my husband became a grueling and sometimes abusive task.  The winning meant nothing other than avoiding the inevitable spitting (and other unspeakable things).  So, was the shaming, punishing, drilling, and forcing of my husband a good or bad parenting tactic?  I guess if what you want most is results, then yes.  He was the best at ping pong.  But, at what cost?  Perhaps Ms. Chua would say who cares to the costs when the benefit is so great.  But, if she is right, that success makes a child feel confident and happy, why was my husband so miserable?  He not only hated ping pong but began to literally hate his father.  To this day, there is a rift so deep between the two of them that my husband admits he does not love his father and perhaps does not even respect him.

I can say with full confidence that the risk did not play out well for my father-in-law, at least in my eyes.  Who are we as parents if we cannot at least say to ourselves that our children love us?  If, when I begin to die, as we all do, my children do not care to be by my bedside, lovingly, I must question for what purpose is parenthood?  And that leads me to a good place to conclude my pontificating.  I don't want to talk about why I disagree with some if not all of Ms. Chua's parenting ideas.  And I don't like thinking about the suffering forced upon my husband by his very traditional Korean parents (whom Ms. Chua agrees have a similar parenting style to herself).  I want to know that every day, every hour of every day, I love my children and that they love me in return.  We fight, we disagree, heck we even lose it sometimes, but when it is all said and done, I know that I love them and that they love me.  Isn't that what being family is about?  That no matter what happens or where your life takes you, that your mother or your father or your sister or brother loves you - without strings attached - whether they be piano or violin (ha ha).  If that means I am weak-minded or a bad parent, I'll take it.  I'll take it in this life right on into the next.  To that end, all I have to say advice wise is to love your kids, each and every hour of every day.  Tell them that you love them.  Show them that you love them.  That, very simply, is being a good parent.  Until next time, SAHM.

                               The Author, Mary Raines, with her husband and two small children.

"Strong Mind, Strong Body, Strong Self"

Sorry for the very long absence.  Much has changed in my life - for the good.  I started working part-time for The Anti-Cruelty Society as a Humane Educator.  "What is that?"  you ask.  I teach people (pre-k on up) about what it means to live a humane life.  My favorite aspect of the job is running an after school program that focuses on anti-violence.  We use the concept of violence against animals as it relates to human-directed violence and take it from there - covering topics such as bullying, teen dating violence, domestic violence, gang/drug/gun issues, etc. (I have recently resigned from this job due to our decision to move to Philadelphia!  Change is good!)

Anyways, on to the topic of the day, "Strong Mind, Strong Body, Strong Self."  I took this shot at my daughter's gymnastics class.  It spoke to me.  I  have always been an athlete as well as a scholar.  I try hard to strike a balance when planning activities for my children so that they exercise their little brains as well as their little bodies.  Now, here is where I digress.  I am not proud of this behavior, but, alas, what's done is done.  I recently trolled on the internet for various people in my past.  Amongst the most upsetting find (why do I do this to myself??!!!) was discovering who my college ex-boyfriend married.  "Why should I care who he married?" you ask.  Well, it isn't that I necessarily "care," in the sense of being jealous or envious.  None of those emotions occurred inside my heart.  Rather, I felt duped.  "Really, this is who he ended up with?"  To be fair, I am sure that she is probably a very nice person.  But what I found out was this:  (1) she was a nurse but quit to become a beautician, as it was a life long dream; (2) she draws on her eyebrows, as well as wears full makeup, nails painted, and hair impeccable ALL OF THE TIME; (3) she took her newborn from, what must be straight from the hospital, to a professional photo shoot; (4) she does not exercise; (5) she takes endless selfies and posts them, even in a bikini (she is super dooper skinny); (6) she created a Meetup group entitled, "Happily Married Couples;" and (7) she never mentions anything about her ethnicity, which I can only guess is philippino, or the fact that her daughter is half phillipino.

 

Okay, don't judge me for judging.  Ha ha - what a hypocrite.  Again, what is so upsetting?  I guess it is that I thought I knew this guy - what he valued, what he was passionate about, what he found attractive.  I  mean I dated him for almost my entire college stint.  And, finding out about his wife...... well, it shocked me.  Perhaps he changed, but regardless, it left me feeling like I was duped - that I never knew this man and that the qualities that I embody and the things that are most important to me, ultimately, he was never attracted to.  He needed a prettier package, which to him means full makeup, nails polished, and hair perfect ALL OF THE TIME.  Anyone who knows me knows that I didn't even know how to put on makeup until I was forced to when I became a lawyer. I wear my hair in messy buns and ponytails because it is just easier that way.  I bite my nails.  I like to have muscles and a strong body because it makes me feel powerful as a woman.  I like being a lawyer, an intellectually challenging job.  I love being part of an ethnically diverse family.  I could go on, but don't worry, I won't.

 

So, what I learned in the end is that I am glad that I didn't end up with him - neither of us would have been right for each other.  And I like who I am.  And I found a man who likes me (loves me even!) just the way I am - brainy, muscles, messy hair and all!  And that feels good. 

 

Until next time, SAHM.

 

The Refusal to Apologize: A Female Epidemic

So, after a long hiatus from blogging, I have decided to return with a topic that continues to mystify me - why some women absolutely refuse to apologize. Won't do it. Won't do it.  And don't bother waiting for it if you are on the receiving end.  It ain't happening. 

 

Why, why, why do I trouble my mind with such quibbles.  I guess, recently, life hasn't let me turn away from the question. I MUST face it.  Ahhhhhhhh!!!!!  Frankly, I can't stand some of this female bullshit. Anyways, without adieu, into the abyss I go......

 

Without naming names, in the last several years, a few women from my past have reached out to me, perhaps, to reconnect?  Naively, that is what I assumed.  Both of these women had done several things to really hurt my feelings - I mean, they could have won awards for their atrocious behaviors - and both of them had stopped talking to me many many moons ago.  I moved on.  I let go of the friendship and any hope of actually receiving an apology for their hurtful actions.  I assumed that, as Maya Angelou espouses, "When someone shows you who they are, believe them."  These women had shown me their true colors - that they were selfish and narcissistic, unable to take responsibility for their own behavior, and believing they were above reproach.  Who needs a friend like that?  There are so many other fish in the sea.  And I have never had trouble making friends.  So, I moved on and really forgot much, if not all, about them. 

 

Then, as a result of my parents appearing on several news outlets, some folks from my past reached out to me to say, "Wow!"  Sparing you the conversational details, neither of the women offered any sort of apology - for their past behavior, for their ending the friendship without explanation, or even (as I call it, the weanie apology because it allows someone to apologize without REALLY apologizing) for hurting my feelings (i.e. "I am so sorry for making you feel that way.  It really wasn't my intention at all.  Blah blah blah.").  They both spoke to me as if nothing had transpired and that our friendship should just pick up where it had abruptly left off.  WTF???  Are you f-ing kidding me???  Why in the world would I choose to be friends with you...AGAIN??!!  And how dare they contact me and expect me to just "take it" - to take their lack of remorse; hell their complete lack of acknowledgment.  What kind of people do this?  Oh, that's right, the narcissistic and selfish kind.  Been there, done that.  Don't need that in my life.  Moving on, once again.  Only this time, I said my piece.  I gave them an opportunity to explain themselves and to have an honest conversation about what happened.  (In my head, "I  mean, I did hear about your wedding and realized that my invitation must have gotten lost in the mail, right?"  Weddings are overrated, anyways.)  Back to the topic at hand.  As expected, neither of the women responded in the way that a friend would.  They became both defensive and dismissive within the same breath.  And, of course, neither apologized - not even the weanie apology.

 

Moving on, moving on.  A mantra in my life.  A therapist once told me that the more people you choose to know, the more loss you will feel.  And, I did feel great loss with these friendships.  But I don't regret having them.  My heart is at peace with that loss.  I use what I have learned to be a "better picker," as an old friend once said.  And with that, a big, heartfelt thank you to all of my goddess lady friends who lift me up and hold me high!  I love you and thank you for coming into my life!
 

JUST A FEW OF MANY AWESOME WOMEN IN MY LIFE!

Me and my gal pal, Kara,
at a Bulls game!

Me and my gal pal, Nikki,
on a sunny Chicago day!

    Until next time, SAHM.

Rachel Getting Married

Another favorite movie of mine, though not one that I would watch a second time, is called Rachel Getting Married.  It is a little independent flick starring Anne Hathaway as "Kym," the sister of "Rachel," who, as the title suggests, is getting married. 

Anne Hathaway is brilliant as a recovering drug addict struggling with coming to terms with a past family tragedy.  I cannot divulge the tragedy as it is one of the finer moments in the movie - when the audience is finally let in on the dark and tragic family secret.  It is fascinating to watch how the various family members have learned to cope (or not) with the shame and the guilt and the loss.  Debra Winger, who plays the mother, is particularly sinister, though hides behind an austere of concern, as I imagine many mothers do.  What to say and think about a child, now grown, that you don't like?  And what is the audience to feel about a mother that is unlikable?  It is a wonderfully different vantage point of mothers and daughters - one that is not often explored in film.  But the hard stuff is not thrown in your face in this movie - like it is done in so many others.  It is slowly and artfully revealed to allow the audience time to digest how an event from so long ago still profoundly affects each family member.

I also love the music in the movie.  The score was written by a Palestinian musician, which gives it a refreshing Arab vibe.  Tunde Adebimpe, who plays Rachel's betrothed and is also a real life musician, sings a beautiful rendition of Neil Young's "Unknown Legend" as part of the wedding vows.  I think I cried throughout the entire song.  It is so moving to see his love for Rachel and reminds us how love really can save a person from living a life otherwise stuck in tragedy.  Rachel has given herself permission to love and be loved despite all the family secrets swirling around her.  And that love is intoxicating to be a part of.  Here is a link to that scene:

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hi7mmLtIixw

I also like how the camera pans the room to provide a glimpse into the guests' reaction to the song.  My favorite glimpse is a side view of Anne Hathaway, with her eyes looking glazed over, and choking back tears.  You are left to wonder if she is happy for her sister, as you hope her to be, or feeling sorry for herself, as she most likely is.  Again the flaws of the characters are subtly though powerfully revealed.  Kym is selfish.  Even at her own sister's wedding she is thinking primarily of herself - what her life lacks is abundantly made clear.  And we feel sorry for Kym because she cannot let go of the tragedy.  She is stuck.  And maybe always will be.  And we hope for her to find peace.

 

So, it is tragic, uplifting, haunting, and in the end, a very human film.  Happy watching.  Until next time, SAHM.

The Church of Pho

Two things me and my husband agree on are:  (1) we love to eat the Vietnamese soup called Pho and (2) we are not fond of church on Sundays.  We decided to start our own religious tradition called "The Church of Pho."  Since our son was a newborn, we have spent many a Sunday morning dining at Le's Pho, which is located at 4925 North Broadway.  We start with the shrimp spring rolls (divine!) and then we each get an order of "Number 1," which is the beef version of pho.  So so so so so good!!!!!!!  The broth is light yet flavorful.  The noodles are cooked to perfection.  The thin slices of beef are tender and moist.  I love to add some lime, basil leaves, and bean sprouts to it as well (this comes on the side as part of the meal).  If you have never tried pho, head to Le's.  You won't be disappointed.  It is the best pho in the city as far as I am concerned.  Here is a picture of my bowl of pho, prior to adding the accoutrements.

 

As Rachel Ray would say, "Yummo!"  (Does anyone else find her slightly annoying????)  Happy slurping!  Until next time, SAHM.



Do Mean Girls Graduate Into Mean Moms?

As I traipse through this jungle of a world called motherhood, there are certain things I have catalogued along the way that I want to write about.  One is what I call the "Mean Mom Phenomenon."  What is that, you ask?  It is a disturbing trend that I have witnessed across all income brackets, all ethnicities, and women of varying mental health statuses.  It is women who exhibit mean behavior, both outward and passive aggressively, especially in relation to their husbands/partners, other moms, and other mom's children. 

Remember this movie? 

For example, when I get together with other women for a fun girls' night out, the last thing I want to hear is you bitching about your sucky ass husband and what a sucky ass job he is doing at (insert your own experience here) providing for the family, parenting, house chores, etc., etc., etc.  Even worse is when these women say these things IN FRONT of their children.  I mean, what are they thinking?  That this is a good parenting technique?  That the children should learn sooner rather than later that men, including and most importantly their own father, SUCK?!!!!  WTF!!!!!  It is not cool to bash the kids' father!  NOT COOL.  If you don't  have anything nice to say about the man YOU CHOSE to procreate with, then refrain refrain refrain.  Grow up.  The children need to know that you and their father are a united front in raising them.  Not that it is you and the children against him.  I want to ask these women, "Have you not matured from the mean girl you once were in high school?"  Mean girls create clicks where you are either in or you are out.  And mean girls talk shit about EVERYONE!  So, you better be "in" with the mean girl or, watch  out, you WILL suffer her wrath!  In the mean mom scenario, the father becomes the "out" click and the mean mom pits herself and the children against him.  And these women wonder why their husbands leave them.........

 

Another example of the mean mom phenomenon is when a mean mom gathers a group of unassuming mothers, let's say at the playground, and starts a monologue about a child or children (of a mother who is not present) that she deems unacceptable.  The reason for the singling out is not important.  Rather, it is the mean mom's need to, once again, shit talk.  But this time it is an innocent child she has chosen as her victim, and of course, the other victim is the mother of the child that has miserably failed at her job of parenting.  According to mean mom anyway.  The purpose of this behavior, I have deduced, is to passive aggressively bolster the mean mom's own parenting by dichotemizing the singled out child's "bad behavior" from her own children's "good behavior."  Thus, convincing all in her kingdom that she is TOP MOM and everyone should listen to her and worship her.  Can you say, narcissism?

 

So, my point, you ask?  I guess it is to give other moms a heads up.  When you hear or see this behavior, move far away.  FAR AWAY.  Have nothing to do with this woman.  You can be polite, of course.  But, don't let her into your life.

 

The thing that is so crazy is that, in high school, the mean girl really isn't liked, she is feared.  She thinks she is popular, but really she isn't.  Maybe that is the case with mean moms, too.  Feared by their husbands and feared by their children.  Anyways, bottom line is parenting is tough stuff.  Moms need each other.  We need to be able to be real and talk about our challenges and our fears and, yes, our failures.  We don't need to waste our precious time and energy on husband bashing, shit talking, and making ourselves seem as though we are the perfect parent.   

 

Until next time, SAHM! 

 

Our First Foster Dog!

As mentioned in a prior post, I prefer dogs to people.  Really and truly.  I also wanted to start volunteering again. So, I combined the two and started fostering dogs for Anti-Cruelty. Here he is, our first foster, Peewee.

 

Peewee lived with us for a few weeks until he was old enough to be adopted.  How friggin' CUTE is he?!!!!!  He was soooo much fun to have in our house but also a LOT of work.  With three dogs (two of which are puppies) and two kids and a husband who travels, my hands were full.  It was worth it, though.  I got to expel some of my motherly need for another baby (yes, my husband said no to a third - boo hoo) and the kids learned what it means to  "foster."  Fostering means to provide a temporary, safe home for an animal with the full intention of returning the animal in order for him to find his forever home.  Fostering isn't for everyone.  A ton of people asked me how in the world I was going to give Peewee back.  Well, it isn't like I didn't think about this dilemma before I took on the task.  I knew it was going to be hard.  I knew we would get attached and I knew it would be painful to return him.  But that is all part of the lesson and the experience.  We are giving our hearts and our home, fully and completely, and then letting go.  And we will do it again.  And again.  And again.  As I said, I prefer dogs to people.  So they are always welcome in my home!!!  Until next time, SAHM!