ten fingers and ten toes

Hey mums and dads out there - do you remember that moment, shortly after birth when in rapture you sat or lay counting your precious little bundles fingers and toes and when it amounted to ten each declared your child to be "perfect"?

And then the first years, where, (besides perhaps a few sleepless nights too many), every step of the way, the first smile, the first tooth, the first sitting up, rolling over everything was applauded and noted and broadcast to a politely yawning world.

A friend of mine gave birth last week, and I had pause to reflect on those wonderful moments of little babies. At the wonder of my children on just how hopeless and helpless such a little newborn is. On how far they have come. I can't stop emphasizing the fact - especially to my son, who his is own harshest critic.

What happens along the way? Is it when we take them out of the home bubble and they're weighed and measured and found to be wanting? Is it when we partake in Evil Gatherings (dinner parties) and are subject to the scrutiny and boasting of our peers? Is it when teachers or councellors say to us that "things" need to be investigated and tested and plotted on normal distribution curves?

Someone said to me the other day "we all just want the best for our children, and when you hear that they're ADHD, or autistic, or dyspraxic, or dyslexic or whatever, it's just like all sorts of hurdles are being placed in their and your way".
I had to think about that. I drilled him on the definition of "the best". What is first prize? Who defines what first prize is? As I look around younger people today, just graduated, of a certain type and class, it seems that first prize (after getting into the elite university of course) is Goldman Sachs or similar investment bank. Investment banking. Nice roll to it. I am, I was, my child is, an investment banker. In investment banking. The wedding was a nightmare to organise as they had it in Italy and she's working in Germany and he's working in London, but they're a wonderful couple with so much potential. (I literally heard that one evening as a mum told me about her high flying son).  Thank you to the readers who passed the "Paper tigers" article on to me.  Well worth a read everyone.  It's not just about Asian Americans, it's about all of us who try to make all our children's choices and decisions and to steer them into what is "best" for them.  We mean so well.

I don't know that I'm allowed to think I know what "the best" is for my kids. I'm currently operating under the influence. I'm not compos mentos. I'm not able to make decisions on my own. And nor should I be. I'm a mother.

What if there are no ten fingers and ten toes.  Does it really make such a difference?  Yes of course practically.  But to the amount you love?  Ask Nicole.  I visit her blog often for a reality check.  A mother I know with a child with suspected autism said to me the other day "once I'd got over the shock, after everything started settling down and I wasn't thinking 10 years from now, but just taking each day as it comes, like I should do, like everyone should, I realised how privileged I am.  How much I am learning from my child.  How much opportunity I have to really get to know him.  How I will always know him much better than I know my other children.  And it reminds me to spend more time to really get to know my other children."

I was letting my son watch a couple of the TED videos in the ipad.  He came running to me.  Mom, mom, listen to this.  He played it back.  The phrase was "we celebrate failure"  Did you hear that mom? Can you imagine?  What is the reality?  I'm guilty as the next mom of correcting failure.  Of ensuring that as good as possible work gets handed in.  That work is done in pencil so that it can be erased if errors creep in.  Of feeling guilty if my children fail.  Of taking their failure onboard and thinking I've also failed.  How on earth did we get into this mess?

Here's the TED video. It's great.

what to download

It seems like lately all the magazines and newspapers are adding in supplements on what to read in the vacation. I still have a month to go, but would like some suggestions on what to put on my kindle for the holiday. I prefer personal recommendations to what's being pushed by publishers into these supplements, since they all seem to carry the same few books.

Must be fiction - during the year I read enough non-fiction to get a master's degree in any of the disciplines I get obsessed with. I'm looking for a mixture of serious enough literature and slightly lighter quicker reads. I would love something that is really funny. Must be engrossing and not too 'clever, clever' (ala booker prize winners). And a mixture of nationalities...

Then I'm also looking for something for a 7 nearly 8 year old boy, he likes things based on reality (we're reading the life of Louis Armstrong right now), Clementine, Humphrey etc.

and a 9 year old girl (who reads at a much higher level, but nothing too gritty & teenagery). She's done all the Percy Jackson and most of Michael Morpurgo, Philip Pullman, JK Rowlings, all the junior classics. We're reading the Hobbit together at the moment.

any takers?

Please fail

Or at least get a yellow card.

Is that a weird thing for me to say to my daughter?  She's exhausted.  Completely and utterly exhausted.  I've been seeing it in the last few weeks.  Yesterday at music, even a friend remarked on it, it was that obvious.  The year has taken it's toll.  The maintaining 6's and 7's on a report card, getting distinction for a speech exam, memorising 2 Suzuki cello books, running, playing football, doing taichi, reading enough books in both English and Chinese to get awards for both, being a nice conscientious kid who gets on with everyone, smiles all the time, doesn't forget clothing or lunch boxes or water bottles at school, never gets a yellow card for not handing in homework.  And does this all unassisted by parents or tutors.  It's hard work.  And the system is relentless.  It's never good enough.  She spent ages on a beautiful poster highlighting everything she'd learnt in Chinese maths this year.  I was shocked and astounded when it came back and I found her redoing it all.  The teacher said it was 60% OK and I had to make some adjustments and then it would be 95% and then my final draft would be 100%.  What does a parent do?  I said I thought her first effort was really great, and wouldn't have found reason to re-do it.  Sure the next effort was even better.  But do the teachers have any idea at what cost?  I see the joy and enthusiasm disappearing. Not to mention the energy.  Despite 10-11 hours of sleep a night she's tired.  Tired, tired tired to the bone.  It will take more than sleep to get rid of that tiredness.

I have an angry frustrated son.  "It's just not fair," he exclaimed yesterday.  "They stole my double English period from me and used it for a long boring assembly to give out awards to all the kids."  (Subtext, except for him).  "And we're learning about Australia and it's so interesting.  And did you know what a Dunny is? "  A while later he punches his sister in the stomach on an unrelated incident.  But it's not about the incident. It's about her getting the awards and him not.

I take him aside for a chat.  He didn't even get a "Love of reading" certificate.  "How come" I ask, "you did everything you had to do."  Obviously he didn't do the paper work.  That's not unusual for him (or for me, we both hate filling out forms).  I tell him I love them both with our without bits of paper that come home with them.  I say that I know he loves reading.  "I do love reading" he says.  "Well, if you know it and I know it, then that's all that's important.  When the bits of paper are lost and disappeared, you'll still love reading and that's the whole point."
"And some kids didn't even do everything but they filled in the form and got the award, it's not fair." "Getting an award won't mean they love reading.  It's not about an award. "
But it is when you're 7.  How can you not care when the system puts so much time and effort into the system of awards.  Obviously you can see that it's about awards.  Even if your mother says it isn't.  How the deck is stacked in our home.

When I was young and sweeping up all the awards I never paused to think about those who weren't.  What motherhood has given me.

I watched "the race to nowhere yesterday"  It's a scary film.  I was a little disappointed in the discussion afterwards.  There was a lot of denial.  Oh that's a specific part of the USA, oh, that's an American problem, oh, that's political, it's the rich kids, it's the poor kids.  It's the high achieving parents.

Of course homework is the elephant in the room.  They side-stepped that one nicely.  The problem was that the parents raising the issue did so in far to specific and personal terms.  The discussion was closed before I could say anything.  I've gone back and forth on this homework thing.  What I believed and what I think now keep on changing, and I think it will change further as we go on.  As they get older and as I get older and wiser and learn more and read more and experience more.

My view this morning, 3 June 2011 at 8:06am (my 17th wedding anniversary), is the following.   For us personally homework is getting in the way of what my kids need.  And what they need, differs from day to day and week to week.  In general terms, my daughter puts in 120% of her effort at school.  At the end of the day she needs time on her own to read and write and process it all.  She's exhausted.  My son, on the other hand, is exhausted in another way.  For him to achieve a fraction of what she and other kids can get from their ability to concentrate and focus all the time, takes a lot out of him.  He mainly thrives from the social and community aspect of school.  When he comes home, he needs down time and then he needs very specific one on one help with the bits that he didn't get at school.   Between myself and the teachers it's not very hard to identify what those bits are.  But generic one size fits all homework with tons of deliverables gets in the way of that.
And they both need to read and be read to. By the time all those bits of paper and forms and worksheets have been filled in there is just not enough time for reading.  It's a crying shame.  I can see how people go to homeschool.

heartbeat

My son jumped into my bed this morning for an early cuddle.
I remarked that I could feel his heartbeat.
"yes, the rhythm is different when I'm with you" says he
"how come?" I asked
"I don't know, maybe there is one rhythm for loving and pumping blood and another just for pumping blood" he replies