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unqualified parenting tips

unqualified parenting tips

Fact: we can all be right at the same time

The longer I am a parent, the more I realize I don’t know about parenting.

It’s one of those things we all want to be good at, but there’s no one right way to do it. Now we may all be passionate about our revolutionary way of parenting, which we think is superior to all other methods, but there can’t possibly be a billion *best* methods of parenting. Or can there?

A parent who places great importance on building a child’s self esteem will chose to value encouragement and praise over the need to achieve. While another parent may believe that inculcating values like hard work and tenacity is more important than feeling good about yourself. Some parents are paranoid about cleanliness and proper nutrition, others don’t mind a little bit of dirt and french fries. Some parents are disciplinarians, some are friends and some just freestyle, winging it along the way.

In a way, all of those methods are great. And all of those parents are awesome in their own right. They all want the best for their kids and are willing to do what it takes to make that happen. While their idea of “what’s best” differs, one thing’s for sure – they hope to give their kids a better life than they had.

When I went for a school trip to visit a sports school in Beijing in 1996, I was appalled to find out that some kids were sent to the sports school from as young as 2 years old. From the time they could walk, they started training for 10 hours a day, doing splits and upside-down hanging stunts and by 16, they were Olympic Gold medalists. When I was 2, I spent most of my time watching cartoons and having tea with my imaginary friend. 13 years later, I got my ass whipped by 10-year-olds on the basketball court. And I thought I was good back home. Sometimes I think of who’s got the better life and I’m not sure. Maybe them, maybe me. But I guess it all depends on what’s our definition of better.

And on that note, most parents tend to overcompensate for the things they lacked in their lives. If we had strict parents, we try to be more loving and give our kids more freedom to live their own dreams. If we didn’t have an opportunity for a good education, we push our kids to study harder, become better students. If we wanted to be an athlete but couldn’t, we send our kids to gymnastics and tennis classes, hoping they’d turn out to be the next Federer. Or Nadal.

On this journey of parenting, we all want to know that we’re doing the right thing. Just because of that, you probably already are. Unless you’re shooting them up with drugs or flogging them with chains, then I suggest getting some help. Otherwise, the important thing is to keep learning and doing what we know is right. There’s no shame in having to learn new ways to be a better parent and changing the way we do parenting.

At the end of the day, whatever you do (especially the difficult bits), stamp it with love. That’ll make you a great parent.

milestones & musings, seriously somewhat serious, unqualified parenting tips

Make it a year you’ll remember

2010 has been good to us in so many ways. It has also been so tough in so many ways. But I’ve come to learn that as far as the really memorable years go, they’ve got a lot of great moments and the overcoming of monumentally bad ones. And so I’m thankful for both.

This new year, I have a feeling is going to be a really big one. I can just feel it in my bones. Exactly like how I can feel it in my bones when it’s about to rain. It’s like a superpower, although the husband calls it a medical condition. Maybe I’m special that way, I have a feeling about things and I’m usually right 37% of the time, sometimes even less.

I jotted down several resolutions for the new year and you’re welcome to steal them.

1. I will not simply choose the path of least resistance.

Instinctively, I am averse to any sort of pain and hardship. Which is possibly why I managed to not exercise for an entire decade, with the exception of a couple of shopping sprees along Orchard Road. Tragically, all that got me was a 170-pound ass (at my heaviest), which as you can guess, created a hell of a lot more resistance.

This year, I’m going to embrace hardship and pain will be my best friend. Not because I’m mental but because it makes me stronger. What doesn’t kill you usually does.

2. I will not be afraid to fail.

I’ve always been the safe sort of kid, choosing to err on the side of caution rather than playing big and risking it all. I guess you can say that I’m terrified of failure. The good thing is that most of my life choices have been safe – the right schools, the safe subjects, the proper jobs. The bad thing is that there’s always a ceiling for safety. That’s just the rules in this game called life – those that win big have risked big.

3. I will pay for what I want in blood, sweat and tears.

Ok, that’s just a little overdramatic. But truth is, the really good things in life require a price, usually in the form of effort and sacrifice; while the things that come easy usually aren’t worth a lot. To quote my new Master Shifu, “If you want something, you got to fight for it. It doesn’t come for free.” Touche.

4. I will dare to dream. BIG.

Dreams can be worthless or they can be worth everything. Just ask Leo Di Cap. *Cue deadly voice: “I specialize in a very specific type of security…”

Also, a lot depends on whether they come true or not. Only thing is, without dreams in the first place, there won’t be anything to come true. Or to fight for, for that matter.

This year, I’ve got exciting things in the pipeline. Some of them awesome, most of them ridiculous, but all of them pretty exciting. To end with a cliche, the year is going to be as good as you want it to be. I used to think that was nonsense because nobody *wants* a crappy year but here’s a secret. If you’re happy to cruise, there’s not enough wanting. If you really, really want it, you will fight for it with everything you’ve got.

So here’s to a spectacular year, one filled with so much awesomeness you’ll have to beat it off with a large bat to make room for even more.

Happy New Year, everyone!

coolest kids ever, stuff best described as not safe for parents, unqualified parenting tips

The 30 Day Shred, Kirsten style

I’m into day 10 of the Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred and it has already been the most exercise I’ve done in um, the last 10 years. I shall rave about the awesomeness that is what I think is the most badass workout video I have ever seen in another post, right after I show you my rock hard after-2-kids-abs.

For now, I bring to you a rip off of the 30 Day Shred, Kirsten style. You probably want to do this if you have no intention of losing any weight or getting in any real exercise. Otherwise, I recommend that you seek professional help (ie. Jillian herself).

Ladies, if you want to look exactly like this, just do what my baby girl does and you’ll get there in no time. Also, eat a lot of french fries.

If you’re ready, let’s begin. First, you want to put on some protective headgear so we keep those brain cells warm and safe.

Moving into side stretches. Make sure you get in a nice big stretch to open up your core. We don’t want any injuries here.

Alright, you need to really get into it. Work those muscles in, injuries are not allowed, people.

And going right into windmills. Keep your arms locked in a straight position and bring them around; you should start to feel that heart rate going. If you’re not sure how, just flail them around wildly, that always works.

Now for a serious strength move – squats. You need to feel those legs burnnn. Or if you’re tired, you can just chill out there for 5 minutes.

Finally, give those muscles a good flex. Come on, flex it like you mean it.

Congratulations, that brings us to the end of workout one. Keep this up and you’ll look exactly the same as you did before.

lists you should paste on your fridge, unqualified parenting tips

How to make your kids do what you say

When you have a newborn who ignores everything that you say, you don’t mind making scrunchy faces and goochie-goo sounds at your adorable little snookums all day. “Oooh smile for momma, princess cupcake snuggly pants…so cute, you’re putting your fist in your tiny mouth you’re going to be such a genius…” and so on.

When you have a toddler who ignores everything that you say for the 15,000th time, you want to hang him upside down on a meat hook (only through his pants, aight?) and make high-pitched shrieking noises that shatter your living room windows. “NOOOOOOOO, DON’T DUNK MY IPHONE IN THE TOILET BOWL, THAT’S THE THIRD TIME!!!!”

Now the trick is to make them listen before you get to the point where you are in danger of losing your marbles. I’ve realized that using words of varying decibles can only do so much and there comes a time where other more effective methods must be employed, which will not only reduce the strain on your vocal chords but also make life a lot more enjoyable.

1. Create plausible imaginary scenarios of undesirable outcomes.

At one point, Truett developed the nasty habit of putting gummies in his mouth and taking them out to examine after coating it with a thick layer of saliva, followed up by smearing his sticky fingers all over my person/clothes/furniture. I was turning into a broken record of “Stop taking out your gummy or I will take it away”, which was as effective as not saying anything at all.

Short of not giving him any more gummies, I found a live ant, put it on his hand and told him that he will be bitten by ants if he takes out his gummies again. Following a major freak out session of the “I don’t want ants to bite me” variety, now all I need to do is say ants whenever he so much as thinks of taking out his gummy. Bam, problem solved. For bigger kids, you can use cockroaches, lizards or spiders.

*To the argument that it is effectively lying to the kids and inculcating unnecessary phobias, I’d say that in view of having my person/clothes/furniture face an imminent threat of ant infestation, it is both true and *entirely* necessary.

2. Create friendly competition with awesome prizes that they will want to give both their kidneys and a lung for.

Take mealtimes for example. If you have kids who prefer to stir their food, keep it in their mouths for hours, spit it out and fling it around regardless of how many times you tell them to finish their food, you want to encourage some competition. Get a prize like a lollipop covered in chocolate and drizzled with caramel sauce for the one who finishes first. Then sit back and watch them eat brocoli with alarming speed and without the usual accompanying puke faces.

If you have one kid consistently winning all the prizes, level the playing field a little and give him 5 extra celery sticks, like a handicap. You want both kids to have a fair chance of winning.

3. Play the wild card every once in a while to keep them on their toes.

If you find yourself nagging at them to pick up their toys for the 42nd time in a day, chances are they’re blocking out whatever you’re saying with a skill called selective listening. In order to make them practice HOLISTIC listening, you have to completely lose your cool when they least expect it. So at the 43rd time of nagging, you start grabbing your hair and flailing your arms while screeching “PICK UP YOUR TOYS NOW, if I have to say one more time…” Then calmly smile and leave the room.

The difference between this and really losing it is that this is a preemptive strike and you’re still in control. Also, it’s very cathartic so you don’t get pushed over the edge.

lists you should paste on your fridge, side effects of motherhood, stuff best described as not safe for parents, unqualified parenting tips

Here’s one for all the cleaning pragmatists

A lot of moms get really stressed out over cleaning. I used to be one of them, especially when it seems like I’m spending so much time cleaning and things never stays clean for more than half a day and I get all frustrated and start yelling at everyone a lot more, which is all so unnecessary. Until I discovered a formula to determine what needs to be cleaned up immediately and what doesn’t. Now my house is in a constant state of disarray but the important thing is that I feel SO much better.

Formula:

M (How bad is the mess) x B (How much does it bother you) / H (How long it is likely to stay clean) = C (Should I clean?)

Let me illustrate with examples to make it clearer.

#1: Kid’s Room = Don’t Clean

I call this the war zone because epic battles go on in here. At any given point in the day, someone will be emptying boxes of toys into a massive heap on the floor and then someone else will observe the destruction, throw her head back in maniacal laughter, and proceed to fling toys everywhere. Because it’s so fun to watch mommy grab her head and look horrified.

I used to categorize their toys into neat little boxes. One for vehicles, one for play cooking, one for animals, one for pirates and one for weird items (broken doll limbs, that kind of thing) that don’t fit anywhere else. I had a whole complicated organizational system going on that made the Dewey Decimal System look like child’s play. But the moment it’s all neatly packed up, they would drag out all the boxes and dump them onto the floor all over again in less than a second.

With the formula, I’ve learnt to leave it the hell alone. That way, I didn’t have to spend hours packing up or nagging at them to pack up only for it to be messed up again. WIN.

#2: Dishes, Laundry, Spills = Clean

No brainer. It’s relatively easy to clean and it stays clean for a decent amount of time. I mean, only slobs leave dishes piled up in the sink for weeks and I’m no slob. Only a cleaning pragmatist. There’s a difference.

#3: Living room = Debatable

I have clearly demarcated territory in my house. The kids know that toys are meant to be played with in the room but the occasional toy encroaches into my space and I put it right back where it belongs, i.e., the war zone. Other times, I leave it until the end of the day when I do my evening clean up of the house.

Cleaning is like money – there’s never enough. Everything could always be cleaner if it bothers you enough to get off your ass and put on those scrubbing gloves. Or if you have someone to do it for you then just flog them every now and then to give them some added motivation. But if you find yourself getting all high strung over cleaning, I suggest you try the formula and spend that cleaning time having a cup of coffee.

stuff best described as not safe for parents, unqualified parenting tips

Clothes are not legitimate mucus wipers. Really, I shouldn’t have to clarify this.

It all started when Tru had a bit of the sniffles a while back. He had all this mucus streaming down his nose non-stop all day and I had to keep running back and forth to get more tissue, wipe his nose, throw it away, get a fresh piece, and then another and another.

I tried to conserve the tissue by reusing them but those that got stuffed into my pocket got all scrunched and clumpy and I ended up with this huge ball of soggy grossness which was way too gross to reuse. So then I tried leaving half-used pieces lying everywhere so I could grab one to reuse and the husband started yelling at me for living like a hobo and he didn’t listen when I told him that I was trying to save the earth so that was the end of that. I also tried using a hanky but they got soaked up too fast and I quickly ran out of dry corners to wipe his nose with.

So one time, when I got tired of hauling my ass up and down the house for more tissue, I grabbed the front of Tru’s tshirt and used it to wipe his dripping mucus. Just once. Which I now regret deeply because thanks to that one dumbass move, my son now thinks that clothes are legitimate mucus wipers. Which they are not.

Plus, I can’t even get all disgusted like “EWWWWW, where did you learn that filthy move from?” without being implicated in the process.

It doesn’t help that recently, his nose has been a little runny every time he wakes up from a nap. So his new routine involves running to me, grabbing my top and using it to wipe his nose. He also uses daddy’s shorts, grandma’s tops, Kirsten’s rompers and get this, FRESHLY FOLDED LAUNDRY to clean his mucus with.

I’ve been trying to re-indoctrinate him by making him use tissues instead but he’s all like “I’m not going to go ALL THE WAY to get a tissue when I can just use my shirt or this pretty tablecloth right here.”

You think as a parent, you can get away with stuff but kids are brutal. They magnify your flaws and take it to the next level so there’s not running away from it and you can’t even pretend like it’s not there.  It’s starting to get very embarrassing because I’m going to be known as the parent without a sense of personal hygiene.

I hope he hasn’t done it to anyone in school yet but let’s just say that I’m prepared for a chat with his teachers anytime now. If this continues, I’m going to have to go Clockwork Orange on him very soon. Relax, I’m only kidding.

unqualified parenting tips

I’m such a badass at discipline.

You should probably know by now that I missed out on the disciplinarian gene when they were giving it out at parent school. The rest of that feeding, diapering stuff, I can manage just fine but it’s becoming apparent that I’m not very much good at making them do what I say. And kids are like bloodhounds, they sense your weakness and they go for the jugular, if you know what I mean.

Since Kirsten was born, I haven’t really had to discipline her. Because she usually gets away with stuff with those innocent I’m-such-an-angel eyes of hers. Also, I’m secretly dreading having to attempt to discipline her only to look like a complete wuss in the process. Mostly the second one.

In any case, I’ve got nothing to be afraid of anymore because it’s come true. Baby girl is oblivious to any attempt I make to enforce a set of rules around her. The kid is like a free spirit, and I’m being nice here. To be fair, she’s a really good girl and not really into any of that adrenaline-inducing feats her brother does. The only things I’ve got to stop her from doing are like spitting out food and pressing the buttons on the fan repeatedly, which let’s face it, are far from hardcore. In other words, my tolerance for her misdemeanors is pretty high.

Anyway, yesterday, I finally had to put my foot down. She was making a colossal mess on her baby chair, flinging food everywhere just for kicks and laughing like it’s a big joke. So I mustered my fierce mommy face, raised my index finger close to her and said “No no, don’t fling your food around.” Lame as that gesture is, it usually works with Tru. He will at least stop for a moment and look remorseful before going back to making an even greater mess.

Baby girl looked at me, then reached forward and BIT MY FINGER. With her 4 very sharp teeth. Now that my ego was as bruised as my finger, I waved my teeth-marked finger just out of her reach and told her again, “NO NO KIRSTEN, NO FOOD-FLINGING AND NO BITING!” as if that was going to help.

She then proceeded to snap at my finger with her teeth like a hungry piranha. Not what I would call a successful attempt at discipline.

I’m not going to get fooled by those innocent eyes no more. Next stop, naughty corner. Wish me luck.