To be or not to be -- a Chinese mother.

When I read this WSJ op ed piece, I was completely flabbergasted. It enraged me. It made me cringe. It made me think. If you haven't read it, you might consider reading it, especially because the rest of the post is not going to make much, if any sense otherwise.

Then again, perhaps I never make much sense anyway.

After reading the article, I started reflecting on my childhood.

As a child, I was rarely allowed to go on sleepovers. "Why would you want to sleep at someone ELSE'S house?!" my mother questioned.

"To have FUN!" I'd respond.

"Fun? Fun?! What do you mean fun? You don't need fun. You need to study and listen to your parents." my mom would retort.

So yes, on some level, the article resonated with me because I had a typical Asian upbringing. It felt all too familiar.

I played the piano.

I excelled.

I went to church every Sunday.

I followed the rules at my all-girls Catholic high school.

But. I also rebelled. In my own way.

On Friday nights during the fall I would tell my parents I had a school function. Then I would meet my friends at the football game at the local all-boys Catholic school. Afterwards I would go get pizza with my friends -- which included (gasp) BOYS. I was always home by 10:00 p.m.

Those of you with a "western" upbringing might not see how going to a football game and grabbing a pizza on a Friday night could be characterized as 'rebellion.' Those of you who grew up in Asian households with first generation Asian parents will understand perfectly.

Just to be clear, I didn't rebel to be a rebel.

I rebelled because I wanted to be with my friends, to do 'normal' high school things like go to football games, have crushes on boys, go to dances...

I really wasn't a bad kid. In fact, if I'd been part of a western family, I might've been considered a pretty damn good kid. I helped around the house. I was responsible. I studied hard. I was on student council and sang in the choir. I never did drugs and didn't have my first sip of alcohol until the summer before I went to college.

BUT.

My parents never saw it that way. Praise for doing well was never given in our home. Instead, they simply saw that I was doing what was expected of me. And to do less -- be less, was not an option. In fact the general attitude was "That's all fine, but you should really try to do and be MORE."

More helpful.

More obedient.

More studious.

More pious.

More more more.

In fairness, I will say that my parents were nowhere *near* as Crazytown as the woman who wrote the article in the WSJ. Yes, they were strict, but they were also indulgent in some ways. My mom always let me get a treat at the grocery store. I was allowed to watch (a lot of) television. I got my ears pierced when I was eight.

Of course NOW, as grandparents, they gather around and basically throw a freaking PARADE every time Piglet poops on the toilet. The first time they saw the Twinks clap? I think my mom teared up. I have heard the word "YAY!" exclaimed to my children with an enthusiasm that I never knew existed when I was a child.

My Asian mother now says YAY.

Which I am pretty sure replaced the word NO in her vocabulary.

Seriously.

What.

This article has stirred up a lot inner and outer dialogue at our house. Tonight I had Mr. K read it and he said he actually liked it. That Amy Chua was in some ways, his Yoda. I gasped and said "YOU'RE A CHINESE MOTHER?"

And he said "Yes, I think am. And the next time Piglet doesn't count correctly, I am going to deny him the potty until he does!"

And right then a half-naked Piglet came streaking through the kitchen and said "Daddy! Appo juice!"

And Mr. K said "Piggy, what do you say?

And Piglet said "Pwease? Daddy? Pwease may I have some Appo Juice?"

And Mr. K said "Good job Piggy! You asked so nicely! Daddy is so proud of you!"

A Chinese mother indeed. *Snort.

A Chinese mother would have said "You want juice? You play concerto three more times perfectly and I will allow you to pour yourself one cup. If you spill, you will mop whole kitchen with rag on hands and knees."

In the end, while I do not agree with this model of parenting, I must admit, it does smack familiar. And even though Mr. K and I grew up in strict Asian households, I tend to think we both turned out okay. I would say our strong work ethic and drive to succeed (especially for Mr. K) was probably influenced by our respective parents and strict upbringings. But our compassion and broad world views? Probably a product of our formal education as well as experience in the school of life.

My personal philosophy is that discipline and rules as well as fun and nurturing can coexist in the world of parenting. Balance is the key.

And when in doubt, pour yourself another glass of wine.

Oh Reality, surely you jest.

Okay. Where did we leave off?

Oh I KNOW.

I was about to embark on a sunny, dream vacation to celebrate my 20th friendaversary with my BFF.

And let me tell you, it was awesome! The best part? We discovered that we are perfect travel companions. Which is HUGE. You know how sometimes you are great friends with someone and then you go on vacation with them and you suddenly discover 1,000 annoying little things about each other that have you calling your spouse from the bathroom saying "OMG! She pouted all morning because we didn't go out to breakfast!" or "She spends all her time on the phone! I might as well be on this trip alone!"

Not with Jess. Not for one second did we get on each others' nerves or bicker or have a moment of tension. Miraculously, we seemed to be in sync for the entirety of our trip. No small feat! I think that this is due in large part to the fact that we both fundamentally believe that vacation has three finite goals: lounge, eat, and shop. Oh and also because we were drunk most of the time.

KIDDING! (not really)

It helps too that we share the same twisted sense of humor where even a CONVERSATION about the SkyMall catalog can send us into a crying fit of laughter. Meaning, there was no actual catalog on the plane, but just TALKING about it made our shoulders shake and eyes tear up because YES, a standing pig wearing a chef's hat and apron while holding a chalkboard is *that* funny.

Conclusion: we are ridiculous.

I could regale you with many tales from our trip, but perhaps the most memorable was our evening spent with the troubadour Paul who insisted on serenading us TABLESIDE whilst staring deeply into our eyes (Jess' were intermittently averted by the very arduous task of cutting asparagus). My strategy was to think of the most unfunny things possible, you know -- dead bunnies and JESUS ON THE CROSS.

Seriously. The whole evening was complete hilarity. Oh, One-Man-Show Paul with your Mark Cohn and Bruce Hornsby, you made our evening one of the funniest in TWENTY YEARS, for this we thank you.

If you're wondering how Mr. K fared, he was a superstar. I got texts all day long with photos and videos of happy piglets. He had a marvelous time with the whole Mr. Mom gig. In fact, he was so effusive about the whole experience, he had me wondering if perhaps he was enjoying my absence TOO much. When asked what made single parenting so fun for him Mr. K replied "I think it was being able to do whatever I wanted with the kids. I could even dress them in stuff that didn't really match!"

You'll excuse me now as I clean up the mess because MY HEAD JUST EXPLODED.

Ahem.

Jess and I returned in the evening around 7:00 p.m. and to say I hit the ground running would be an understatement. I no sooner set down my bags then it was "Juice! I need juice!" and "the babies need to eat!" My first full day after vacation went something like this:

9:00 a.m. - Playdate

11:00 a.m. - prepare trio for dr. visit and shots

12:30 p.m. - leave for dr.

2:45 p.m. - return home from dr. visit (during which the nurse started fanning me with the Twinks' charts because things got so crazy)

3:00 p.m. - drop off prescriptions at the pharmacy

3:30 p.m. - pick up dog from groomer due to "anal gland issues"

4:00 p.m. - take dog to vet for above mentioned problems

5:00 p.m. - return to pharmacy and pick up prescriptions

5:30 p.m. - make dinner, feed kids

6:00 p.m. - bathe babies

6:30 p.m. - last feed for babies

7:00 p.m. - bath for Piglet

7:30-10:00 p.m. - replace binkies, soothe babies, put Piglet to bed, clean kitchen, pick up house

Now how's that for a strong dose of reality?

Did I mention we had our own pool and 3,000 sq feet to frolic in just the two of us?

There's no such thing as a gradual re-entry when you are a mother!

New skills.

As we approach the ten month mark, Piglet is literally learning something new every day. From sign language to "commands," Piglet shows us that he understands what we're saying and can communicate with us. It's amazing! I recently visited some newborns and it made me muse about how far Piglet has come since those first few months. On one hand it seems like only yesterday that we brought all 8lbs 8oz of him home and marveled at his every involuntary smile. On the other, it seems like it's been QUITE The Journey (and it has) from those first few days until now, nearly ten months later.

A little unsolicited advice to new and soon-to-be moms out there: open up your tired, sleep-deprived eyes and soak it all in. Cherish every tiny thing about your Tiny Thing because it goes all too quickly! Soon you'll be looking at your almost-one-year-old like me and wondering where all those days and hours went. Fortunately, I got the very same advice from a sage friend, so I've got them all tucked away for safekeeping. :)

I leave you with some recent videos of Piglet's newest skills: dancing, saying Da Da very clearly and playing with a truck. He's actually been playing with cars for over a month, but I just now taped it. At the end of this clip he smacks himself in the face with the truck but I clipped it to save you from having to say "ouch!" Don't worry, he only shed a few tears and then was right back to playing.

Enjoy.

Rituals

One of the things all new parents come to know, love and respect is the mighty SCHEDULE.  The first few months of Piglet's life were spent trying to decipher some semblance of a schedule just so we could, you know, SURVIVE.  

As Piglet's schedule began to reveal itself - naps "around" two hours after waking, awake for three hours, naps again etc.  The obsession with a schedule began to fall away and many of the things we would do together each day became less routine and more RITUAL.  Some things remain just part of our daily routine like diaper changes, eating Cheerios and nail trims.  But some things are RITUALS and they are PRECIOUS.  For instance,

Every

morning

I 

wash

and 

comb

the

baby's

hair.  

~~~~~~

Every

weekend

we 

go 

for

a 

family

walk.

~~~~~~

Every 

day

we 

sing

the

Hello

Song

from

music

class.

~~~~~~

Every

Saturday 

we 

go 

to 

the 

Farmer's

Market

and 

share

a 

tamale.

It's these RITUALS and not SCHEDULES that define our relationship and our family.  It makes our interactions memorable and sacred and anything but mundane.  So the next time you're marching through your day like the good soldier you are, stop and think about your favorite bits and pieces of the day or week and consider sifting out the RITUALS from the SCHEDULE. The little things you do all the time that might seem like just part of your normal routine may actually be little rituals that you'll look back on with so much fondness one day. 

I am also a huge fan of TRADITIONS but that's another entry all together, particularly with the holidays approaching. :)