On the New Year’s Day when I shared my observations of another mother with one of my relatives in China over the internet, she pointed out an interesting phenomenon inside a family. It always seems like a rule with very few exceptions.

Very often the one who does most for the children gets least credit and least appreciation. This, at least, matches with one real life experience that I have witnessed, in which the mother wholeheartedly serves her child who, on the other hand, adores the father of the family and treats the mother as someone less equal. In this sense, such mothers play the role of un-sung heroines.

I don’t know how to explain this phenomenon, other than the father must have something that the youngster adorns and admires and the mother lacks this. One step further, in the long run, for children, what matters is not what we do for them but what we have achieved ourselves when they look back. Most people, at least young people, don’t have this maturity to appreciate silent heroines.

Still, if it is the right thing to do, do it regardless how children view it. After all, silent heroine is better than noisy un-hero. Yes, I just invent a word and I am so proud of my invention.

PS. I got back from China Wednesday evening and received a long standing hug from my daughter.

I have been fortunate to know some parents who either unduly over-praise or over-criticize their youngsters. I know of one parent who keeps saying her child is the best even if the fact points to the opposite. On the other hand, another parent always find faults with her children even if they are far better than the average. The over-critical parents must have an extremely high standard for their children, which is equally damaging to the children.

It seems a big challenge for parents to be realistic and objective about their children, as it is a rather emotionally charged topic and as with any emotional topics, people tend to get unreasonable and very subjective.

Every time I hear parents bragging out of proportion about their children, I ask myself, “What is it for? Is it for parents’ vanity or what? Is it to prove that they have been successful as the parents?” When parents deliberately ignore the stark fact, there are always some unspeakable reason behind their minds.

It would help tremendously if we understand perception influences and often becomes reality. Until we can get closer to reality and confront with the unpleasant truth, we cannot expect to initiate any change for the better.

While chatting with some of my long-time classmates, as early as our Preschool/Kindergarten years, we inevitably shifted the topic to parenting. We shared a similar family background with our parents serving in the army and dedicating their whole lives to the revolutionary cause, giving no thought of proper parenting of their youngsters, so typical of parents in those years.

Our parents gave us the least attention while we needed them most. Talk about proper guidance and nice things like these! Many of us got into the field of learning which least fit us and changed careers later in our lives.

Now that I become a parent, I want to do my share of duty and avoid the same experience in my children as I see it as the mission of a parent to discover what the children are interested in and where their natural aptitudes are and guide them through their formative years.

To be sure, nearly all parents throughout generations have the best intention for their children, but the results are so much different, subject to so many unpredicatable factors resulting from their personality, environment, and parenting style.

I like this well-known saying uttered by this classmate of mine, “Sow mellon, reap mellon; sow bean, reap bean.” So is it true with parenting, so is it with older children when they should know better than being stupid with their time.

I have shared my New Year Eve posting with my children and some of my friends as my heartfelt New Year wish. I hope they will appreciate the message in my writing and cram value into their time. Yet, I am not sure if it will happen. As a saying goes, “Man proposes, God disposes.” Eventually, whatever parents proposes, it is up to the children to make it a reality.

I talked to a monitor on 12/23 at SMMC about parenting. She has two young children. She said my children were lucky to have the proper guidance during their formative years. I said, “They are lucky only if they take my advice, and that I am not sure of.” Same as with other people that I talk and get in touch with. By the way, to my surprise, I have found not many people are truly interested in being wise parents for their children’s sake, though nearly all parents wish their children well.

P.S. Once again, I must reiterate this to my children. I found out social networking and Internet surfing are the biggest time-thief of all. Watch out!

Happy New Year!
This post is scheduled to be out on 01-01-10 01:01. It is so cute to see so many 01s lining up neatly, reminding me of the binary numeral system.

“It is this time of the year,” I told my children to hammer out their New Year Resolutions just to carry on this family tradition, specifically the practice that I imposed and insisted since their early years. They have certain built-in psychological resistence to any suggestion of this kind. “You asked us to write this every year. If we don’t pay any attention to it afterward, what’s the use of writing it?” one of them asked.

“Good question,” said I. That’s how I answer a question when I don’t have the answer. Still, I insist on their writing something on computer or on paper because having a resolution. Even if they cannot implement it, it is better than not having one, in case they want to have something to target at. Plus, I still believe it a good habit and like all good things, it is so easy to get rid of it and leave room for its opposite to slip in. Good thing they all work out something to this effect.

An acquaintance of mine, having moved out of this area, once said that she would not want her son to go out of the state for college, more for fear of losing him. This reminds me of my aunt who makes sure the both of her sons settle in the same town as she does.

I have seen too many cases where parents try to keep their children close by, shielding them under the wings of a huge hen, mostly out of fear — the fear of children being on their own or of children not coming back any more once letting them fly too far, or of children getting into a wrong group which will lead them to a wrong path.

Here’s another extreme case of dependence from an acquaintance of mine. She is already in her late 50s. Her mother in her 80s still lives with her, serves her, and be her company. So much of lack of independence at this stage of life, she provides a classic example of its kind and the consequence of a failed parenting.

To be sure, these fears are as powerful as they are irrational and detrimental, to the point that they never fear that their children will never grow up and be independent. For some time, I am not sure if these parents start out for their own benefit or for that of their children. I would like to think better of these parents.

Alas, parenting involves so much in terms of love, reason, and honest self-reflection, honest with the children and with themselves.

P.S. A family of four came over last night against the snowy day.

On the evening of 12/20/2009, I talked to my relative in China about the challenge of responsible parenting. It is a difficult topic because people invariably have very different standards on what constitutes a good parenting. I know some people believe the best parenting is the least parenting, so much like some politicians who uphold the best government is the least governing.

Very often parents act upon the assumption that whatever they do, they do it for the benefit of the children and always with good intentions. Unbeknown to most parents, whatever the parents do, they inevitably leave permanent imprints on their children. When we talked about our parents, we realized that they had definitely shaped our view of life and the world and dictated the way we deal with people. Whatever we do, there is the shadow of early parenting at work.

Indeed, by now I have realized parenting, at least responsible parenting, is one of the toughest tasks that an adult can possibly face. On the one hand, you want to implement proper discipline on the child, to rid the little one of any undesirable habits or make the little one do what he should do; on the other hand, you don’t want the discipline too harsh that you ruin an otherwise perfect childhood.

On the one hand, you want them to be happy and carefree; on the other hand, you know they cannot have their way all the time because their way may not be the best way for them in the long run. Take for example the simple food issue.

A child like to eat hamburgers plus french fries and absolute no vegetable, the most unhealthy lifestyle being the key ingredient to his being happy. I see not a few parents will feed their children the way they want. They might have a happy childhood but will have to pay the price later in their lives in the form of heart attack and high cholesterol and even early grave

You think love is the best nutrient for the children, but you don’t want to unwisely smother them with too much of it.

The trickest part of parenting is to make children willingly do the right thing without the uncomfortable discipline and supervision. So far, I have not been so lucky to crack this trick. I always want to do what I believe is the right thing but I am always afraid that I might make everybody unhappy because of this.

Last Friday, 12/18/2009, two elderly colleagues of mine bought a winter jacket for another young colleague as a Christmas gift. This young colleague of mine referred to the two senior colleagues as her moms, that is, they take care of her like her mom. So heart-warming in this cold December day. This reminds me of my aunt who acts in the similar manner toward her sons.

My aunt has some treasures like antiques and a handsome of wealth, best fit for her children who are not as well equipped socially and economically as she is. Both she and her husband are college graduates and become highly-paid engineers. Yet neither of her sons went to college. She raised her children like a hen trying to protect her chicks under her huge wings. So safe and caring.

Instead of buying this or that for my children or leaving them a huge chunk of wealth, I would rather inspire them, motivate them, fire their dreams and vision and the desire to learn and to grow their own wings. With their own skills and ability, they will be in the position to buy not only their own jackets but also the jackets for all in need.

Now people may say I find excuses for not buying stuffs for others. Well, in the long run, I want my children to be proud donors instead of charity recipients. I am sure that is what they want for their future.

By the way, I don’t have any objection to charity recipients. I just want my children to be the other end of it.

Now that we have heard so much about the disappointed goings-on about the world-famous supposedly morally spotless Tiger Woods. Admittedly, I couldn’t help feeling disgusted, just as when I witnessed Clinton’s stupidity with that lewinsky girl. Then again, as Tiger himself claims that he is human and thus is not perfect. Don’t we already know this? What’s the big deal about it?

Is it his fault that we are disappointed? Not really. Maybe we would not feel this way if we had not held such an unreasonably high moral standard of him. Why should we expect so highly of him since he is like the rest of humanity and is not infallible and stupidity-proofed? We are doomed to fail when we expect perfection because there is no perfection.

Isn’t it true that we actually punish ourselves by raising our expectation to an unreasonably high level. Yes, true is this with celebrities, true is this with parental expectations.

I have found this issue rather deep-rooted in psyche of some Chinese parents — the tendency to talk negatively about their own children in front of their friends. I pointed it out before to the other responsible adult in the family, but it cropped out again during yesterday’s gathering with friends. I tried to make him stop, to no avail. This morning, while the children were still sleeping upstairs, I reminded him again of not bad-mouthing the children to others, either in front of the children or behind their backs. Find something else to talk about.

It is not because our children are so great and flawless that we have nothing bad to say about them. Nor is it because we should try to cover up their flaws. The bottom line is respect. Children are individuals, no matter how small they are, deserving no less respect than us adults. It is not fair to them if we treat them like pets, as if they cannot understand or do not care what others say or think about them. It is sometimes frustrating to me that some people simply don’t get this point.

In Chinese language, there is a rather self-depreciating way of referring to one’s own son — quan zi. I even feel uncomfortable translating it into English, but I have to.  It means “son of a dog.” How I dislike it!  

Don’t take it as these people are really playing down themselves by using the phrase quan zi. They just try to be modest. Or rather, they think they are supposed to be modest and thus act out modesty. Either way, I am fed up with the inconsistency between what is modestly said and what is thought inside. Well, I found myself in a not-so-nice mood when it comes to inconsistency.

Back to my topic, sometimes the need to keep a modest appearance might overwork itself when some Chinese parents feel the urge to belittle their children in front of their friends. Such a heavy topic on this sunny winter Sunday.

No art class and tennis lesson on this Saturday. A nice break for me. Yet, I was more engaged today than normal Saturday.  More house cleaning and cooking than my back could tolerate.

A family of five came over in the late afternoon today.  They often asked about my son. When my son came home last Sunday, I thought it better to have them come over. Beside, their daughter and mine are friends. Their daughter is about my daughter’s age, a happy teenager or not. When I asked the mother if her daughter showed any sign of teenager rebellion, she did not answer my question directly. Instead she said it was always the parents’ fault when a conflict occurred between a teenager and the parents. She did not detail what kind of conflict that involved her daughter. I could see things were not rosy from their conversation.

Other people commented that her daughter was mature for her age. Yet, as far as I observed, she has exhibited a different kind of maturity or even immaturity. To be exact, she actually acts out her maturity or tried to give the impression of her being a mature adult and should be treated like an adult, which in itself is the sign of immaturity.

I am sure the 14-year-old will grow out of this stage years later. I would very much like to see people, small or big, act naturally. Yes, I am glad to see my children behaving humbly in front of people of their senior. Hopefully they will remain this humble even after they have surpassed us in their career.

It is a bright sunny Christmas.  I am not sure how this is related to Christmas.  I write it down because it has been sitting heavily on my mind ever since I discovered it.  Something very disturbing or rather alarming happened yesterday, something potentially scary.  

The adults went to work in the morning, leaving three children at home. One adult went back home at noon, hoping to take the kids to a bookstore. But the youngest one, 10-year-old, was very adamant in staying home.  So he did.

When I got home in the afternoon, I found him on the Internet.  He shut down the IE browser immediately when he saw me in. He was not supposed to play game as his mother instructed. So I checked Internet Explorer’s browsing history.  I was very disturbed to find that a few pornographic sites were visited during the period when he was home alone.  The page was so obscene that I dared not even open it in front of my children for fear of corrupting their minds.

The matter is too important to dismiss as being trivial. I am not sure if this is the first time that the boy visited porn sites or if this is the reason he does not want to go to bookstore with his cousins, but I felt the burden of responsibility and the urgent need to apply a sharp brake on this.

When confronting this, the boy was very uneasy and was very desperate on self-defense, denying he knew anything about it.  If he has not done anything wrong, he should have nothing to fear. But he does fear tremendously by the manner he talked to me.

I am going to have a serious talk with him and lay out some rules for him for the coming year. If he cannot follow these rules, I will have to send him home.

I found following posted in the kitchen section in our clinic.  I think it too good not to be shared.  Plus, it is very much in sync with the holiday season and of course days and years beyond.  It makes me think of all people that have come into my life and reflect critically upon my interactions with them. 

“Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.  People come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Embrace all equally!”

Many good things in a family should always be two-way traffic — one direction from parent to the child, the other back to the parents from the child. Good things include love, respect, care, and responsibility. I have observed some parents unconditionally give love and care (and plenty of money) to their children while the latter have not learned to give back. One of a Chinese family that I know of here is typical of such parents. She gives and complains at the same time. She only gives but has never taught her child to give back.

This is so unfair to the giver, yet the parents only have themselves to blame, because they either have not taught or do not have the guts and wisdom to teach their children that love and care are two-way traffic. Anything good must be told to the children. Do not expect them to pick up good things naturally. Parents, do not dream of reaping a sweet melon when you sow a bitter melon.

Part two of parents’ bill of right.

To be honest, the initial feeling of funny was now replaced by a sad and rather depressing one after I have gone through “Parents’ Bill of Right.” Many of them are self-evident and take-for-granted rights for parents, which should never have been given away in the first place.

Yet, the fact these rights are so much emphasized at the beginning of the book reveals a rather dejected situation that some parents find themselves in — they have been presumably deprived of these rights by their own undesirable parenting, and now they try to re-claim them. So unfortunate parents! My heart goes out to those who have given in to their children’s demands, and little by little have succeeded in undermining their own authority and giving away their rights as parents. Once giving away, it is no easy task to claim it back.

Meanwhile, I have to honestly commend myself for not having to re-claim most of them, as I am at present moment still enjoying them, not all of them though. And I would like to add one more right to the list, that is, the right to have a break from parenting. For most parents, they literally work two shifts — one paid shift, the other unpaid at home. Getting off from office means starting the second shift at home, cooking, parenting and other endless and nameless household chores that will not end until the day ends or the parent drops sick. Every weekend literally means “Labor Day” for most parents.

Personally, I feel so good once in a while during weekend to take a break from the non-stop parenting and household work — driving out by myself, stopping at a bookstore. I would go through a stack of books, sit for hours, throwing overboard all parenting demands, and not feeling guilty or selfish at all. A break only once in a while. How about that!

Even better than this is the dream that on one weekend, one of my children would declare to me, “Mom, you take a day off your second shift job and do whatever you please. I am going to cook and clean the house for the family.” “Dream on.” I could hear my daughter saying this to me.

A few weeks ago, I read a book called Teen Tips: A Practical Survival Guide for Parents With Kid 11 to 19, by Tom McMahon, 2003.  He cited at the beginning of the book “Parents’ Bill of Right and Responsibilities” created by Tri-City Substance Abuse Coalition.  I thought it funny nowadays everybody wants some kind of rights.  I was more curious than serious before I read them.
” (1) We, as parents, have a right to be treated with respect.
(2) We have the right to say no and not feel guilty
(3) We have the right to know where our kids are, who their friends are, and who they are with at any time.
(4) We have the right to demonstrate we care by occasionally verifying or spot-checking our children’s whereabouts. We may, for example, call host parents on parties or overnight stays.
(5) We have the right to set a curfew and enforce it with restrictions and loss of privileges.
(6) We have the right not to condone any alcohol or drug usage and to say no to attendance activities where alcohol or drug usage may occur.
(7) We have the right to make mistakes and/or change our minds.
(8) We have the right to ask questions and expect answers about all things which may affect our children.
(9) We have the right to monitor all school-related activities: academic, behavior, and social.
(10) We have the right to know and consult with adults who influence our children’s lives, i.e. coaches, employers, teachers, youth group leaders, ministers and counselors.
(11) We have the right to know what is happening within our own home, to set ‘house rules,’ and know the identity of guests who come into our house.
(12) We have the right to assign our kids chores and other family responsibilities appropriate to their ages.
(13) We have the right to promote time together, as a family, which may include meals, outings, study times, and the planned activities.
(14) We have the right to be authoritative when logical explanation and reason have not succeeded.
(15) We have the right to have family rules and consistently enforce them with appropriate consequence.”

Nothing funny by now. I will post my comments on these rights tomorrow.

Yesterday evening someone I know of asked me to take her to climb the rock wall inside Dick’s Sports store. In recent weeks she became interested in climbing that rock wall.  Someone watching her there was impressed by her tenacity. While watching her climbing, an idea struck me.  Since both of my children like climbing, I will take them to climb Tai Shan in China next time we go back.

When they reach the top of the mountain, having endured the hardships of the journey, I am sure they will be in the position to appreciate the panoramic view of whole journey that only the mountaintop can offer.  They will not only be overwhelmed by the breathtaking beauty but feel inspired by the holistic and metaphysic meaning of the climbing, reflecting upon the road they have travelled, the journey ahead, like reflecting where they have come from, where they are going in their life’s journey.

I was so taken by the idea that I called my son immediately. Of course, he was as excited as I was, with the fun part of my idea, nothing metaphysical though.

My sister left for home a little after 5 AM this morning.  I spent a large chunk of the morning comforting her 10-year-old son, who could not stop crying for mommy.  Poor child. This reminded me of my friend’s 2-year-old girl who just experienced her separation anxiety a month ago and my son who was first sent to daycare at age 2.  To be sure, separation anxiety can hit someone at any age, stressful on both sides. I would think it would be easy when the child has passed daycare age.  Good luck!

“Happy birthday to you!”

My daughter was the first one who remembered and mentioned my birthday this morning. The fact that she remembers my birthday is the best birthday present.  See a parent is so easy to please.

I once asked my son, “Between fame and fortune, which do you prefer?”  Fame was the answer because fortune always came after it.  To be sure, most of human activities are motivated by their desire to be recognized. There is nothing wrong with seeking recognition on large or small scale.

The only thing I want my children to keep in mind is what it is that you want to be recognized.  While Al Gore has world-wide recognition, Nobel Prize to be exact, for his environmental protection efforts, G. Bush for his Iraq War. Bill Gate is famous not just for microsoft company but for his devotion to philanthropy. 

For me, especially on my birthday, I want to be recognized as a good parent at home and conscientious employee at work. Throughout my life, I want to be recognized for doing the right thing, no matter where and when. Not so ambitious, yet not so easy to really implement it all the time either. 

I will constantly jam and drill this idea into my children’s heads, which they might have known from my non-stop nagging. Because it is the right thing, according to my definition.

It would be more accurate to say “mistake and consequence.”  My son has read the book by Dostoevsky — Crime and Punishment.  I thought the most severe punishment is a self-imposed one. In fact, here’s the secret for us parents, self-imposed punishment is the easiest one for us.

I know how resentful my children are if I tell them the rule and the consequence for not following it.  If I say, “No computer for one week if you fail to …,” my daughter would try to bargain for less, asking “How about two days?”  Even if I agree with her on 2-day-no-computer, she still murmurs, “Mom is so mean.”

I really do not want to be the “bad guy.”  Therefore, I always ask them to tell me the consequence of any wrong doings.  If my daughter suggests 2-weeks-no-computer, I would say, “That’s too harsh. Let’s make it one week.” 

Trust me it always has happy ending for all.  Sometimes, I am even rewarded with these words “Mom is so nice.”  Indeed!

I often hear people talk about parents’ expectations of their children.  To be sure, I myself also have expectations. It is so natural that we all have our reasonable expectations.  But I try not to let my children know what my expectations are.

Instead, very often, I ask them, “What do you expect of yourself?”  “What do you want to get done this summer?”  “What do you want to become of when you grow up?”  I encourage them to have a goal of their own and to expect something of themselves.  Instead of saying, “I am so disappointed of you,” I would ask them if they are disappointed of themselves. 

It would be a sad waste if they live their lives only to meet other people’s expectations without anything of their own.  Of course, I do not mind having my expectations met if they could be ever met.

I talked with my sister about Gao Yanding and his education of his daughter.  I said, “If dad is really involved in the education of the youngster, most likely the child will be exceedingly successful.”  Look at Gao who laid out a blueprint of his daughter’s education and career advancement map and followed it through without any discount.  Indeed, he got what he originally shot for, unlike me who have to compromise and reconcile all the time.

My sister’s response opened my eye to some interesting phenomenon that I was not aware of before. She said, “Very often, dad made it a career or a huge project upon himself when it comes to the education of his child. He is often different from mom in his approach and the significance associated with education.  While moms tend to be more loving, dad more disciplining; mom more feeling while Dad more reasoning.”  She cited example of Lang Lang, Chinese pianist or “a genuine musical legend in the making.”  No wonder my children are so much in need of discipline.  I should have realized this.

While tender loving care provides the environment for a healthy psychological and emotional development, discipline makes character of the best steel which is badly needed in order to excel and stand out like Lang Lang.  It would be an ideal if the children grow up with both love and discipline from both parents or from one parent who plays both role.  But what would you choose if you cannot have both?

I heard more than twice of parents telling their children about their own childhood. It goes like this — when we were your age, we did not have TV, nor did we have computer, games, internet. In fact, we did not even have toys. All we had were books and we spent most of time on school work. Children growing up here are so lucky. One parent said of my daughter, “When my sister was 12 years old, she could cook for the whole family.  Look at her at age 13.  What can she do?”  No doublt with some parents, the comparison often leaves them unsatisfied with whatever their children have achieved.

I often caught myself doing the same thing. Indeed, speaking of childhood experience, parents like me grew up in China have little in common with their children born and growing up in America.  I like to share with my children my childhood experience, which sounds like stories from a far-away ancient land.  They like to hear me telling them how I caught dragonflies or how I planted hot pepper in a broken wot on window sill.

I thought it a good practice to let the youngsters know of our past so that they are given an opportunity to appreciate their lives now and here from a new angle.  It is an even better practice to let them grow in their own culture and time instead of making them feel or look bad by comparison.

In fact, my children like to hear anything as long as I do not make them go an extra mile by comparisons.  It is not only impossible but also unwise to un-Americanize them by making them work half as hard as we used to. Another earnest joke.

I forgot to post an entry yesterday.
Yesterday morning I received an email sent to my office inbox. It was from my sister in Beijing, telling me that she and her 10-year-old son would come to America on 7/20, which is the coming Sunday. This is a pleasant surprise. I wrote down many things that I needed to do after I got back home. Thus I forgot posting.

Her son will go to school here, most of time under my care when she has to go back to China to take care of her work there. From my talk with her over Skype, I understand it is going to be a challenge to lash out the discipline to him.

I realize next 3 to 4 years will be a critical forming period for him, and the task might fall on me if my sister cannot be here all the time.  I am honoured or shouldn’t I be?  Lucky for me that my daughter agreed to help out on this.  On the much bright side, I have one more person to love and to be loved, to care and to be cared. Don’t you envy me for this?

Speak like a native both in China and in America — a dream shared by many Chinese parents for their American-born children.  Easy to dream than to realize.

My son started going to an American babysitter a little after age 2 before he could speak Chinese.  He spent most of his waking hours with English speaking people, coming back home, speaking nothing but English. He even knew how to curse in English when he was two years and four months old! Better than his mom, though his mom could outdo him in Chinese and he did catch some of them. Worried? Yes. 

But being an over-concerned mom, I did more than being worried.  I not only read to him stories in Chinese, but also recorded my reading in a small children cassette player, placing it around him and playing the tape as soon as he got back home and letting it accompany him till his sleep.  I also bought many cartoon VCDs from China and watched them with him to make sure he understood them.

I took my children to China as often as my bank account could afford. Later I spent nearly a thousand RMB for a large bag of ping shu, series of story-telling by famous performers like Liu Lanfang, Yuan Kuocheng, Tian Lianyuan, Lian Liru, etc. My children got hooked on some of them.  I have bought many boxes of children books from China, not that they would read but I read to them.  I have tried to engage in conversation wtih them in Chinese, as often as they can tolerate me.

These efforts have helped create a Chinese language speaking environment. Their Chinese vocabulary was happily enlarged, though not spotlessly clean.  I did not have time to teach them how to read and write, but they can safely pass as native Chinese speakers from the way they talk when they are in Beijing. The best part of it is they have learned the language without knowing the process and totally effortless.  What a sweet thing to learn something without making an effort!

Lucky for me that I started during their early years when they did not have much choice but listening to me. By the time children turn teen, you and your language are pretty much out of their realm of interests.  Too late to be bilingual. An opportunity once missed is forever gone.

For all of my efforts, their main language is English, which is understandable when they have wallowed in the soil of English language for the large part of their lives.  Still, they are joyfully bilingual, as long as you do not ask them to read and write.

This was accomplished by the piano teacher that my children had when they were young.  The supposedly beautiful experience with music turned out to be anything but beauty. 

Originally I sent my 5-year-old to piano lesson with the sole purpose of cultivating a love for music.  To be sure, she was not a good student but that was okay to me and she did learn and enjoy the piece once she could play it. 

I have been very careful communicating with my children, trying to set a good example.  Who could have thought that all these efforts were nullified by their piano teacher, who exercised absolute no self-discipline when it came to releasing her anger or frustration. Banging and shouting at the top of her lungs simply pervaded the whole lesson and took the place of actual teaching and learning.  My heart ached when I was going through the class with them.  About two years ago, I could not tolerate it any more and took her out of her class.

When thinking back, I regret tremendously of ever sending my children to that teacher.  For years that followed the end of it, the mention of piano has brought back nothing but nightmare and unspeakable hatred of piano and music.  So much for the love of it.

I deeply regret it because the whole experience ran against my belief in raising children.  We do not simply teach but shape and influence their lives.  I would rather give them a happy childhood than having them learn something while tormenting their tender hearts, leaving irreparable psychological scar. They can always learn some skills if they have not done so at young age, yet an unhappy childhood can haunt them for the rest of their lives.

Music, piano, nightmare, much as I have tried, I found nothing amusing today. Just want to get it out of my chest for now.

A 2-year-old girl was happily playing in the arms of her mother.  The sight of this reminded me of the long-gone past, the time when that little girl was my daughter, when I was driving from Fort Wayne, Indiana to McLean, Virginia in January 1997.  With one hand on the steering wheel, the other hand being held by that little girl. 

To be sure, she was not two yet.  The journey was too long for her.  She could not sit in her car seat for that long without being held by mom.  She cried for mom and insisted on having me holding her.  I explained to her, “Mommy got to drive.  Mommy cannot hold baby.”  She knew it, so she said, “Baby hold mommy.”  With that, she crawled out of her car seat to the front, trying to reach me.  I gave her my hand.  She was so content just holding my arm and laying her baby head on it.  The best moment for her was to sit in my arms and have me read to her.

Thinking back, I must have been out of my mind at that time, keeping myself crazily busy with teaching, taking computer courses, trying to make more money. I never seemed to have time for my little girl. 

Before I realized it, the little girl is as tall as I am now and has no need of me.  Hold your little girl before they become the memory of the past.  Otherwise, hold the teddy bear that she once held, for that bear never grows up.

This truely happened in America by seventeen-century parents, specifically carried out by Samuel Byrd of Virgina. If one of his dependents had wet his bed, he punished the child by making him drink “a pint of piss.”  At that time, respected, well-educated parents beat their children with good intention, often severely, in order to get rid of the undesirable aspects that they saw in their children’s character.  (J.H. Plumb, “The New World of Children in Eighteenth-Century England,” Past and Present 67 (1975): 64-95).

People tend to look back nostalgically at Mark Twain’s carefree Huck Finn. But his dad was a never-stay-home drunkard. No TV, computer, cell phone, not even a dear home.

I read this “a pint of piss” episode to my daughter reminding her how lucky she is right now.  She could not believed it.  I had to show her the book to clear the doubt about this. We do need to look back in order to appreciate our blessings today.

21 years ago, my father left us on July 11. He would be 79 years old if he were still here with us. Too soon, too early that he went.

An old colleague of mine talked to me about how important he felt toward his family now.  Nothing seems more important than his family with the two wonderful children.  We used to work at the same company (PHI) eight years ago.  This is the first time that we met after 8 years.

In order to spend more time with his children, he gets up at 4 AM every morning, heading for his office as soon as possible, so that he can leave for home at 2 PM and be with his children.  His face exuded joy and unspeakable happiness when he talked about his son, and with such a loving smile when he talked about his daughter. He talked with enthusiasms about saving for his children’s college cost. I love my children, but I have not gone this far for them. Shame on me.

In sharp contrast, some of the parents that I know of worked until after 10 PM, leaving their young child home alone. Later, the guilt-ridden parents tried to make up for it by providing plenty of money, satisfying the needs of the child. Now the child has graduated from a local university, feeling completely alienated from the aging parents. The parents are reasonably and hopelessly sad.  “Such an ungrateful child,” they complained. When the mom was sick and needed help because of her poor English, the child told her, “Go back to China.”  Some people gained money but lost child. 

The world would be a different place for children if we have more dads like that old colleague of mine. What a sweet dad!

During last few weeks I took out plenty of books from my children’s rooms, some in Chinese and some in English.  They have long outgrown these books, as my son put it, “I am not easily entertained now.”  I gave away three boxes of English books to a charity place, not in great shape after them, still readable though.  Last weekend I gave some of the Chinese books to a friend of mine.  This is what I shared with her about reading at an early age.

I started reading to their attentive ears when both of my children were a few months old.  Some people would challenge me, “Did your kids understand what you were saying?”  You would miss my point if you still do not get the answer after reading my posting.

The main purpose of your reading to baby is to grab baby’s attention, to cultivate an interest in books.  The way you read to her is to have her see the pictures, the color, the shapes on the book, talking nonsense while pointing to this or that pictures.  Gradually, they will imitate you, I mean literally, talking nonsense with their fingers on the book.

My daughter could retain nearly 100 percent of what was read to her, so amazing that she took books to her daycare in Falls Church, Virginia and started reading to other children of her age.  The children sat by her, listening so attentively that some would not go home when their parents came.  One mom stood there, listening and watching, then she asked me, “Can she read?”  I said, “No, she just read out of her memory.”  “She certainly acts like she is reading.”  She was about two and a half years old then when most of her peers brought toys and she brought books with her.  Both of my children have grown into avid readers.  As long as they have books in hands, they seem to have invisible companies, never feeling lonely or bored.

The only drawback about reading is they all end up wearing glasses at an early age and then contact lens, which is a constant draining from my purse.  It is not funny at all when you have to pay for new glasses every year.

4/7/2009, now I believe more than ever the benefit of reading or forming the love of reading after the stay of the 10-year-old nephew at our house. Read to them and teach them how to read as early as possible. It is so much fun.

Yes, Esmie Tseng, a 16-year-old American-born Chinese stabbed her 55-year-old mom to death with a knife. Shocking but true. That was in 2005. Years of conflicts between two generations and two cultures, represented by a parent from China and her American-born child, consummated in the tragic death of one party and imprisonment of another.  Who says parent-child conflicts are trivial matter?  It’s the matter of life and death!  

Esmie did not receive as long a punishment as my daughter said she should, “She should stay in prison for at least 16 years for the length of the time her mom had cared for her.” What an interesting logic, harsh yet not without reason. I told her, “The murder itself is a punishment enough. Like the never-washed-away blood stain on Lady Macbeth’s hands, the murder will haunt and torture her like a nightmare for the rest of her life.”

While we were shocked over the tragedy, we were also thrown into deep thought, questing for an explanation and hoping for an prevention. The mom, like most of us wishing her daughter to be outstanding in school performance,  had gone to the extreme, to the point of totally burning the bridge with her life gone in the air. Among many explanations, I would think failure to manage conflicts and to adjust your expectations accordingly are the number one culprits.  

Otherwise, the not-so-young mom should have learned Chinese martial arts and worn a knife-proof jacket in her battle with a teenage rebel.  A heavy lesson for all: surrender if you don’t have either brain or muscle power.

The killing was also carried on BBC news,

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/4967340.stm

Yes, it is true I don’t give Christmas gifts to my children.  What a bad mom!  Yes, I know how bad I am, hopelessly and honestly bad.  We often spent time at Border’s or doing something else when other people were busy holiday shopping.

First, I don’t want to give the children the illusion that Santa Claus has a fathomless well of free money to give away.  I told them, “See the Christmas shopping spree. It is not Santa but the parents who buy and give toys.”  Plus, my children are too critical to accept the idea that an overweight Santa can squeeze through that slender chimney.

Second, they were surrounded with mountains of toys and never felt the need for it at all. They did not appreciate an over-supply.  Why wasted money?  My son never felt deprived when he saw one of his American friend’s room was tightly jammed with toys.  I have kept drilling into their heads this idea – “Count your blessings not your presents.” My daughter has learned from very young that Christmas is the season of giving not receiving.  Until now she never passes a Salvation Army bell without giving something.

By the way, if I ever bought toys for them, on most occasions, I waited till they were on sale, or even better, during clearance season, which, too bad, was during not Christmas time. 

At some point during their primary school years, both of my children asked for allowance. “All my classmates have weekly allowance. No fair I don’t have,” my son said with the whining tone when he was around 9 years old. Yes, I never gave allowance, even though I was aware of this practice in America.  This I had told him and also had explained to him. “The real No-fair is when you get something for nothing. Remember there is no free lunch. For anything you get, you have to earn it. If you have been a good student, I will reward you something when I am happy.”

By his six-grade he pretty much figured out it was hopeless to get easy money like his classmates. So he started making money himself. He learned from some class how to program in Basic language. He programmed some small games, saved it in a floppy disk, and then sold them to his “allowance-rich” classmates.

My daughter made much quicker money than her brother. She took to school two individually wrapped cakes and sold each of them for $5. The whole box containing 10 cakes only cost $1.

This happened when my daughter was in kindergarden.  Like most of normal girls growing up in America, my daughter liked barbie dolls ever since she laid her eyes on them at any department store toy section.  Nothing could hold her attention longer than a barbie doll.  She could spend hours over that section.  To make her happy, I bought tons of them for her.

One day, a disater came.  She declared she wanted to have barbie’s blond hair.  “Mom, I don’t like my black hair.  I want golden hair.”  I guess she did not know the term blond.  ”Your hair is brown, not black,” I tried to comfort her.  “No, it is not!” she insisted.  “Ok, whatever color is your hair, you look gorgeous with your hair,” “No, they are ugly.  I want her hair.”  After a few futile explanations, she would not listen and began using her best weapon – temper tantrum, the only thing she was good at when she was frustrated at that age.  I think I ended up buying her one more barbie. Then smile came back and peace prevailed.  But that incident has foreshadowed more storms ahead, not about blond hair though.

“Just one thing about your write on 6/28: ‘I would save my children’s face by not working in a Chinese restaurant.’ Need to throw a brick on this point. What I think is that if the mom is a hard worker in Chinese restaurant and always try to do things better. The children should be proud of her. You know people are different. Some people can not do the professional things as some others. Need to tell children to respect each hard workers instead of only the 体面 (decent-looking) professional workers…”

The above was emailed to me from a friend of mine.  I think she raised a very good point and should be shared here.  I shared it with my daughter on the way to Border’s today.  Indeed, we should not only respect each human being but also show respect to the choice that people make.

To my children, life can be seen as a matter of choices.  Just as ten fingers are of different length, so are people in their choices regarding jobs and education, etc.  Respect and recognize all who make honest efforts in their own way.

Back in my college years, I learned the word “capricious” in this sentence — “women are as capricious as the weather.”  It surely did not come out of the hands of a woman.  Anyway, I never cared to know the meaning of this sentence until now when my dearest little girl becomes a teenager. And then we started experiencing four seasons all in one day, not everyday though. One moment it is cloudy and I am totally clueless of her surliness; next moment the sun bursts out of the cloudy sky completely when she laughs out loud and is eager to give you a choking hug.  We do have stormy moments. Luckily, it never lasts longer than an hour and are never as destructive as Katrina.  To me, the best season is spring when she is completely engrossed in reading with her angel-like face as serene as a beautiful flowery lake in a picture.  The good news is spring-like scene always lasts longer than stormy ones. 

On 3/9/2008, while watching my daughter reading at Border’s and remembering the time when she was so eager to have me read to her and I never had enough time for her then and now she seldom has time and patience to hear me talk.  I thought a lot and wrote below at Border’s:

                  Enjoy Your Turn

Read to that little ones while the ears are all yours,
Listen to what the child’s heart pours out while the heart is still open to you,
Take the little sweetie to places while the sweetie cannot drive,
Clothe the tiny body, feed the baby mouth,
Hold those child hands while the hands reach out for you.
For the moment will come, sooner than you expect, when –
The little turns big;
And the big hands are behind the wheel;
The big heart is closed to you;
And finally, you become the one reaching out for that once upon a child! 

I have shared this piece with some of my friends.  Here are their comments:
From the doctor at our clinic.  I sent this to her on her last day at our clinic, 6/12/2008
“Wow, thank you so much.  This is beautiful.  And you’re absolutely right – I feel like my daughters are growing faster every day.  Thank you for your lovely words, and best of luck to you.”

An old friend of the writer, from her teen years, 6/14/2008
“Well written.  Only when you have kids can you write sth like this. Not from one’s pen, but the heart.”

I love these comments!  Thanks for the bounty of kind words and encouragement. If my children have made my live richer, my friends have made it more appreciable. Well, I see a lot to be thankful now.

Yesterday I took my daughter to a nearby oriental grocery store, where she found a small box of junk food for $5.  As always, being a kind-hearted mom, I yielded to her request and bought it for her. Yet, on the way back home, I told her, “I could have saved $5 if I had not taken you to the store.”  She said, “Mom, what you say makes me feel sad.”  “All right, I don’t want to make you sad and I will stop talking.” 

I used to tell her something like this — I would feel sad if you do this or that.  Then she stops doing this or that.  Because she cares not to make me feel sad.  This time I think she uses the same trick on me.