A Non-Parent's Opinion on Parenting

I'm not a parent yet.  Not even close.  I don't even have a dog.  But I don't think you have to be a parent  to have a reaction to the recent articles in the Wall Street Journal that commented on parenting styles.  The first was written by a Chinese mother who very boldly, profoundly and confidently stated the reasons why Chinese mother's most often produce highly successful children. And she bluntly meant more successful children than Western mothers.  She started out the article with a list of things that her children were never allowed to do: "attend a sleep-over, have a play-date, be in a school play, choose their own extracurricular activities."

Me as Alice

I had an instant reaction to the writer's words.  I was allowed to do every single one of those activities.  In fact, I was proud I had assumed the role of Alice in the fourth grade for my elementary school's production of The Trial of Alice in Wonderland.
I attended many sleep-overs where we stayed up too late, watched far too many movies in one sitting and ate more candy than was ever allowed in my household growing up.  So in reading the WSJ article I can say that my blood seemed to boil a little and I felt enrage at the suggestion that because of those things, this mother would have assumed I would turn out less than perfect.  Okay, I'll admit I'm not perfect, but I doubt attending sleep-overs and participating in school plays lowered my grade point average in the fourth, fifth, sixth grade or made me a less successful kid.

During my
ballet days (hard work!)

I can flat out say that I couldn't really agree with anything the author stated in her article, in fact, most of it just made me cringe.  But there was one line that especially stood out to me as being true and rather thought-provoking: "What Chinese parents understand is that nothing is fun until you're good at it."  The lady has a point.  I think as humans we are all inclined to like an activity, a subject in school, a musical instrument if we are good at them.  However, becoming good at something takes hard work, determination, dedication and I believe that initially to have the desire to work that hard at something, you have to like it, at least a little bit, far before you are any good at it.


You have to read the article to gain the full depth of this discussion.  If interested, I've made it easy, just click on the link below:
Why Chinese Mother's are Superior  


Clearly, I was not the only Western American that was riled up by the Chinese mother's article.  The rebuttal came only a few days after the first article, again in the pages of the Wall Street Journal.  This time, it was by a Jewish mother and outlined her antithesis to parenting which included letting her children decide what activities they wanted to partake in and when they wanted to quit said activities, the copious amounts of TV and computer games they were allowed to partake in and the fact that even though her kids were allowed to do these things, they too received good grades in school.  I had a problem with this article too.  The mother seemed to be almost too far on the other end; not pushing her children to excel when the opportunity was there and allowing them to quit when it seemed things got a bit hard.  I finished this second article with the feeling that both extreme points had been made but that I agreed with neither of them.  I suppose that's what these types of commentaries are meant to do...


Rebuttal article:
In Defense of the Guilty, Ambivalent, Preoccupied Western Mom


I hardly ever read the Wall Street Journal so I appreciate both these articles for making me pick up the paper and become interested in what each author had to say.  Since reading both pieces, I've thought about each message and the points that were made in the black and white letters typed out on the newspaper pages. Here I am, not even a parent, and I became a bit enthralled with the ongoing discussion of what was the "correct" or more "successful" way to parent is.  What I realized is that this discussion reaches beyond the boundaries of parenting.  I know I'll face all these decisions one day when I am a parent and frankly, I haven't really thought about how much TV my kids should watch or how many sleep-overs I will or won't let them attend.  But right now, as an adult, I need to just focus on the kind of person I want to be.  What new boundaries and new challenges will I set for myself.  I for one, think my western parents did a very successful job raising me so now it's time for this western grown up to live successfully.

"The purpose of life, after all, is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experiences."

~ Eleanor Roosevelt

Snow and Resolutions

I woke up yesterday morning to a world covered in white.  This is not at all normal for where I live so it evoked a sense of excitement and a little bit of apprehension at what this would mean for my Monday.  I turned on the TV to channel after channel of local newspeople and weathermen and women standing out on the side of the road and on overpasses, trying to stay warm while they reported that it was in fact, snowing.  After living in New York for a few years it seemed at first odd for a place to be up in arms that the ground was covered with cold, wet snow.  But as I listened I realized that shutting down the town due to the inclement weather was indeed a good course of action.  As the morning hours passed by with more and more flakes of white falling from the sky, the newspeople reported the increasing number of accidents - 230 by 9AM.  People were urged to stay at home which was the obvious choice especially seeing that all schools, restaurants and businesses had closed their doors for the day.

I watched from inside my apartment as the snow accumulated on the cars and streets below.  There's something a little bit magical about snow - it blankets the ground and inevitably makes moving about town to do daily activities more challenging.  But it also brings a calm quiet with it's presence, a type of serenity characteristic of winter months and the feeling of solitude and peacefulness.  So yesterday I took the opportunity of no work and a snow day to relax and enjoy the quiet solitude.

Yesterday's winter weather paired with the imminent BCS championship football game reminded me that we're in a new year and football is almost over.  I know we're only 11 days in, but it seems that every year after the buzz of the holidays and new years fades into the past - I'm guilty of returning to the daily routines in life and I sometimes forget about all those new years resolutions, ideas and promises that the new year was supposed to bring.  I've had a tough time thinking of resolutions this year.  I'm not sure if that makes me a bad person, someone less committed, or maybe I've just reached an honesty with myself.  To be frank, when thinking about resolutions this year I felt tired of telling myself I'd get in better shape, I would eat better or I would try to save my money better.  Those are all things I want to be better at, but I thought that maybe this year I could "think outside the box" for a change. Maybe I'm getting a bit too altruistic - maybe I'm on to something... I have no clue.  Here's my vain attempt to list my top resolutions for the year.  And with that, bring on 2011!

Be Thankful for the People in My Life Every Day
      I know... this sounds kind of cheesy but I'm serious.  I'm lucky to have a close family, one where we all care about each other and what's going on in each others lives.  And I'm lucky to have very loyal and considerate friends.  I'm thankful to have such wonderful people in my life.

Write more, think less

     So I don't mean this to be taken literally - don't worry, I wont stop thinking all together.  But I love to write and a lot of times, I don't know what to write about.  Writers block feels just how it sounds, like some wall was physically put up in my head, preventing any creative juices from working to write. I want to resolve to think less about what to write and maybe it will help me write more... let's see how that goes.

Learn to sail

     This is me and my hubby's resolution together - I guess it's more like a year's goal than a resolution.  When trying to think of something new that we both wanted to learn, this is the idea that came up and we were both excited about it.  So we'll embark on that adventure, when it's warmer of course - I'm sure the learning experience will warrant some good writing.

Train for and complete a half marathon

   So I know this sort of fits into the no-no land of resolutions that I was haphazardly trying to avoid.  It must be included in my resolutions because I'm signed up to run one of these races thanks to one of my best friends.  I'm grateful for her drive and motivation and "lets do it!" attitude because as I told her the other day: "if I wasn't already signed up for this, I'm not so sure I'd have the gusto to train and do this"  But I"m locked in, paid in full and there are no refunds, so very soon I will start the training... 13.1 miles, I WILL conquer it!

Be an even better business partner

   A lot of people ask me how it is to work with my husband.  I can say with complete an utter honesty that it's wonderful.  I think we are fortunate that we rely on each others strengths which are different and great in their own ways. This allows us to work seamlessly and with minimal head-butting.  That said, I want to be an even better business owner and partner.  Greater ideas, more sales, less grumbling when doing the less glamorous tasks.  

When I Grow Up

I was not one of those kids that knew what I wanted to be when I grew up.  In fact, I was pretty jealous of my friends that wanted to be "a doctor, a physical therapist, a lawyer".  It always baffled me that I just didn't know.  The fear of not knowing what you want to do with your life is only exacerbated over time.  I remember in grade school you can say whatever you want to be and it's fine if it changes the next day.  You could want to be a mermaid one day and a firefighter the next and both are socially accepted.  In high school the tension rises a bit as you find yourself separated from fellow classmates in a "less accelerated" math course.  Or maybe you find yourself thriving in Chemistry while your best friend can easily explain the physics of how their cardboard boat won the paddle race across the school swimming pool.

On to college and the dreaded "major" choice.  I remember feeling the weight of the world that I didn't know what I wanted to do.  If I didn't know, how could I pick a major?! Oh, the agony.  I watched as some of my friends diligently worked their way through Business Economics classes, on their way to be recruited by the "Big Four" accounting firms before they even had diploma in hand.  Other of my friends laboriously studied through O-Chem and Biology, trudging through the extra lab practicum classes they were forced to take as part of being a science major.

I had a bit of a different course taken.  I entered college with the profound "Undecided" major slapped to my admittance.  I toyed with the idea of becoming a lawyer (the idea provoked by my willingness and veracity to argue a point against my parents until I won).  So I dutifully completed a summer internship at a family law office.  Three weeks in I decided divorce cases and custody battles were not my cup of tea.  I would need to take a different path.  Perhaps I could be on TV and become one of those reporters.  Better yet, a news anchor.  My dream job morphed into the desire to take Katie Couric's place on the Today Show.  So I applied and was accepted to an internship at the local ABC affiliate in Santa Babara.  My duties were to write teases prompting the upcoming news stories.  I was tasked with searching through archives of footage to find everything from pictures of the President when the story called for such images, to scouring through archived footage of a baby elephant when they were doing a story on the local zoo.  After shadowing some of the reporters out on the field, I decided I didn't quite like thrusting a microphone in people's faces and waiting for a juicy candid sound bite.  It seemed all too invasive to me.

I thought I would never figure out a major so opted for a broad approach.  I would be a Communication Major.  To make a long and frustrating saga short, I didn't get into the major.  What does that mean? Well, it means my grades weren't good enough.  Perhaps it was fate guiding me along the way, or maybe it was that midterm I fell asleep in.  Literally, I dozed off while filling in Bubble A on the scantron.  So it was back to square one in my Sophomore year of college.

Maybe I should pick something really broad.  So I would become an English major.  Turns out this was a good choice for me.  It led to my finding a Writing Minor that I felt fit perfectly with my major choice.  So four years later and a journey through majors, I graduated with a degree in English and minor in Professional Writing.  Here I am, four and a half years from the day I stood proud in cap and gown, and I've learned that for me, not exactly knowing what I wanted to be when I grew up has proved to be a fantastic and exciting journey.

Through constant self-discovery and questioning, I've realized that perhaps what I am and what I have become is and will continue to be a constant learning process.  The undertaking of owning a business with my significant other has been a whirlwind of excitement and challenges that have been both challenging and rewarding to work on.  

In a new turn of events I have recently decided to apply to grad school.  It is an MFA Masters Program in Creative Writing.  The program is local at the University near where I live, and seems like a great opportunity to hone and further develop my writing skills.  With this undertaking has come a whole set of emotions I didn't quite expect.  It's nerve racking and a bit scary to apply for something and have the uncertainty about whether or not I will be accepted.  Yes, I'm scared of rejection.  The fear of failing is a very real and present one.  As part of the application, I must submit a short story.  No problem, I'll just write one.  The project is so much harder than I thought it would be.  So I've been working on twenty-one pages of prose; pouring over each sentence, trying vainly to choose the right words that will harmoniously come together to make a fascinating tale. Something about writing a story makes me feel vulnerable to the world.  Is it interesting enough? Is it believable? The words on the page seem to stare back at me in defiance and it seems like I'll never achieve a final draft.

 Maybe I'm too focused on the fact that I didn't know what I wanted to be when I grew up.  I'm not sure any one's life story is perfectly conventional.  Maybe I should think about what I have become along the way:  A high school and college graduate, a business owner, a blog writer, a wife, a traveler, and now an applicant.

Big Sky, Open Air

There is something about breathing in fresh mountain air and a cool breeze that glides over open skin and sends goosebump kisses running up and down your arms and legs.  There is a quiet peacefulness when surrounded by nature that heightens the senses and allows for escape into a world without the stresses of everyday life.  I think Montana is such a place. 

I recently embarked on a trip to the state; specifically to visit Glacier National Park where we toured the majestic mountains driving through the winding roads and then we ventured on to a town two hours West where we could partake in Fly Fishing adventures.  We truly live in an amazing and beautiful country where there are cities as grand as New York City, coasts as beautiful as in Southern California, and skies as big and grand as in Montana (clearly I have some bias having lived in two of the aforementioned places). 

Fly fishing was something I had never attempted before.  Actually, fishing was something I had hardly attempted - if you don't count haphazardly thrusting a pole off a dock when I was 10...  We were mostly fishing Rainbow trout and did so from a boat floating down the river.  Learning to cast is like learning to master a pirouette in ballet.  It's the movement of your arm that sends the line gliding out over the water to land just right, tempting the hungry fish below to take a bite.  Like any sport or hobby, there are masters of the craft that can execute a cast without effort and with pristine fluid motions.  I clearly have a lot to learn and practice in fishing as my guide pointed out that my casts were beautiful but I reel in a fish like a linebacker... I'm still deciding if that's a good thing or not.

Fly fishing from the boat was peaceful, challenging, competitive and relaxing all at the same time.  Bald eagles could be spotted from the trees and the few times I actually caught a fish and reeled it in, I couldn't help but marvel at the small animal's brilliant colorful scales.  The fish were all thrown back in the water, watching them swim away was like watching a few glittering sparkles fade into the depths of the water.

When I visit a new place, I often wonder about the people that call it home.  About a different way of life that I would find foreign in practice.  There are obvious differences with how people live abroad in Europe, Asia or Africa.  But there are also differences to the way of life around the U.S.  This obviously came to mind when I looked up at the big open sky in Montana.  The scenery alone was so different from what I am used to looking at every day.  Mountains and beautiful trees that painted the countryside green and reached high until it was met with the blue of the sky.  Fishing and hunting are a way of life and a common undertaking much like shopping on 5th Avenue or hunting for the best new restaurant or eateries is in New York City. 

Whenever I miss California I close my eyes and think of the rolling sound of the surf and the cool ocean breeze that carries salt through the air.  Whenever I miss New York I close my eyes and can hear the cabs rushing down the street, the excited fast pace and movement of people going about their various tasks or the eerily quiet of the city when the snow is falling.  When I am nostalgic for the cool mountain air and the peaceful coexistence of wildlife I'll think of Montana and that big blue open sky.

On The Edge Of A New Season

The air is starting to feel slightly cooler, the sun not quite as scorching and hot when it's high in the sky at midday.  The roads have a more constant stream of cars as people have for the most part embarked on their summer getaways and have resumed the daily grind of a five day work week.  At the grocery store, the watermelons are not piled quite as high and the beer selection has shifted from those light summer ales to more hoppy and festive choices - I even saw a Pumpkin Ale the other day...  These are all the subtle signs that summer is winding down.  Fall always seems to creep right up on me.  Perhaps since summer is my favorite season, I always hope that the sunscreen scented days will linger on, that they'll stretch out just a bit longer and grant me a few extra chances to work on my tan.

Even though I consider myself a summer seasoned gal, I'll admit I do have a certain excitement now when fall starts to roll around.  My husband explained to me a few weeks ago that we were in the "dog days".  Of course I nodded, naturally thinking he just meant it was sweltering outside and doggone HOT! He knows me all too well, that I didn't have a clue, so proceeded to explain that he meant we were in the few weeks of summer when there are no sports to watch on TV.  This was my window... I think now he regrets informing me of such a time span since I jumped on the opportunity to commandeer the remote control so that we wouldn't miss any of the riveting shows featured on HGTV, Food network or the Travel Channel.

I can say with full confidence that I enjoyed the "dog days of summer".  I relished in the opportunity to continuously indulge in my choice of TV programming.  But now those days are over and I can also say, I'm ready for them to be.  We are now entering the highly anticipated football season - and I for one am actually looking forward to it.

With football season upon us, there is a felt sense of competition in the air.  I wont pretend that I'm a die hard sports fan. You wont hear me rattling off player stats or reciting a short monologue on the history of a head coach.  But I will admit, after last years season, I think I'm more a fan of football now than ever before.  Perhaps its the extra time spent at bars with other fans.  Or maybe it was my new found love for cooking that prompted me to whip up nachos and spinach dip at home to watch the game.  Or maybe it was that we moved to a college town dripping in the SEC football team colors year round...

In not knowing the intricacies of the game there's one other aspect of football season that I've come to enjoy.  It's a conversation that my sports enthusiast significant other and his friends sometimes engage in: which team mascot would win in a fight against the other?  The game consists of picking a side and lobbying for why that mascot is tougher, stronger and better fit to win against its opponent.  The mascot that has the edge would clearly be the team with a better chance of winning the actual game.  Admittedly, this is a hilarious and sometimes ridiculous way to think of two teams matching up.  Let's take, for instance the 2010 NFL season.  The Cincinnati Bengals will play the New England Patriots.  The Detroit Lions will take on the Chicago Bears.  And the Arizona Cardinals will fight the Saint Louis Rams... so we have a Tiger against a Patriot, a Lion and a Bear and a Bird against a Ram... should be interesting.

We took the extra step at becoming loyal football fans this season and bought season tickets to the USC Gamecock football games.  I'm looking forward to seeing how that mean looking rooster matches up against opposing forces.  In case you were unaware, a picture of the USC mascot is below.

So although summer is drawing to a close, I'm optimistic that the approaching fall season will offer up it's signature happenings that I always enjoy.  Football, the vibrant color of changing leaves, Thanksgiving, and a welcomed crispness to the air.  

A Very Special House

If a house had arms. If a structure could be more than just a shelter, if it could provide comfort and warmth and if it could have a relationship with a person.  What makes a house a home?

It all started several months ago, about six months after moving to a new town.  I had just gotten married, quit my job, and moved to a place I had visited three times.  It was an adjustment to say the least but that aside, I was searching for a great project in the community to get involved with.  I suddenly found myself in a position where I had more time... something I couldn't find much of in my past living environment.

It was a Thursday in late winter, early spring when I first set foot in the Ronald McDonald House. What greeted me upon walking through the doors of the house was a rather chaotic situation.  I was thrown in with a group of people who were vigorously sorting stuffed animals.  Yes, stuffed animals - hundreds had been donated and were being sorted so they could be appropriately distributed to the children's hospital.  It was a rather unorganized process.  I asked several times for the manager of the house but she happened to be in a meeting.  Although I felt just a bit overwhelmed, and I'll admit, I contemplated just leaving, I stayed.  Sorting of the animals transitiioned into a few other chores around the house and I found myself still there an hour or two later and enjoying myself. This house was something special, of that I was sure.

The manager of the house finally appeared and took me aside, apologizing for the unconventional start to my volunteer day there and then promptly gave me a tour of the place.  I noticed immediately, this was an exceptional person.  She radiated energy, and her smile lit up the room.   Her 5 foot maybe 3 inch frame gave off an infectious aura that exuded endless enthusiasm.  She struck me as the kind of person you meet and can't help but smile back at.  I'll explain what happened next with brevity... I found myself agreeing to a one day a week shift every Friday as the manager of the place.

I'll admit, I was a slight bit apprehensive about agreeing to the commitment, but found my apprehension was overwhelmed with excitement over the opportunity to consistently work at a place with such a strong and important mission.  For those that don't know, the house is a place where families can stay at no cost when their child is receiving treatment at one of the local hospitals.  Mostly, the house is filled with families that live too far away to make the daily drive back and forth, or in this particular case, there are families that have a newborn in the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit).  Families are provided with a place to stay and meals throughout the day.  Essentially, a home away from home.

My job is to make sure the families are provided with anything they need and to "watch over" the house accepting the many donations we get and making sure it's clean from top to bottom.  In the time I have been working there over the past few months I have seen probably about 40 families or so come and go from the house.  It would be difficult to explain into words how I feel about being surrounded by these families who, each and every one, are going through heart wrenching and difficult times.

I have watched families leave the house with elation and smiles that their child's stay in the hospital turned out for the best.  And I have unfortunately watched families leave their stay because their baby did not make it through it's recovery.  Those are instances that I hold my breath and have a difficult time grasping how anyone copes with that kind of loss.  In those times, I remember the importance of the work, that the house is a haven.  The hope is that whatever hardships those families are facing, they do not have to think about where they will stay or what they will eat for dinner.  The simple and everyday routine motions in life are offered in that house.

It's a place that has affected and changed me in ways I'll be forever grateful.  I have met some of the other staff that work at the house who have open hearts and giving ways which is always an inspiration.  I am appreciative to the families that have stayed and will stay in that house in the future for showing me that important things in life are your family and commitment to one another during hard times.  I am appreciative for the house manager, director and a good friend and fellow staff member I've made in my time working there for showing me how to be a little more selfless and how to be committed and giving to strangers. 

So if a house had arms that it could wrap around someone.  Just to be there for a person, to provide comfort and warmth and a sense of security.  I've decided it would be that house.

Ronald McDonald House Charities of Columbia: www.rmhcofcolumbia.org

First Anniversary

My hair was swept up into an intricate winding collection of curls pinned to my head.  Nestled within the curls was a broach that belonged to my Great Grandmother, three generations before me.  When I close my eyes I can see the folds of the white dress that fell just right tapering out towards the ground. The blues, greens and whites of the flowers blend together in my mind like a brilliant watercolor.  I can hear voices of family and friends, a calm excitement that filled the air.  The sky was a brilliant blue and I remember a bright sun high in the sky...

With such vivid images and memories, it's hard to believe that almost one year has swept by.  One year seems like a significant amount of time and it is.  But by the same token, one year can pass by so quickly sometimes it's hard to take in all that happened. 

So on Sunday it will officially mark our First Anniversary.  We made it.  For us the first year included leaving our jobs, moving to a new state, and working alongside one another... triple whammie.  With such immense change applied to our lives, I admit, at first I was a bit apprehensive of what the year would bring.  No doubt, I knew it would be an adventure, but how would it all unfold? With 360 of the 365 days now in the past, I can say in complete and utter honesty - It has been nothing short of wonderful. 

Thinking about a year gone by always makes me think about a year ahead.  What will it bring? What new things will be discovered?  What experiences will be lived? In looking back and reflecting on the past, I always find I have new sense of awe and wonderment for what is to come.  One year ago I remember feeling the anticipation of such a momentous occasion which was only five days away - my wedding day.  In all honesty, I had a picture of what the day might look like, but really wasn't sure what to expect.  What unfolded was a dream transformed to reality.  Beautiful colors and sounds, so many familiar faces and all around an unforgettable experience.  I'm not sure I could have ever truly anticipated the emotion that was felt and all that the day encompassed.

I suppose it is virtually impossible to know a feeling or emotion or what something will actually be like until it is experienced.  I'll always look back on that day, almost a year ago, and relish in the beautiful and intoxicating memories - thinking of those, I can't wait for what is to come.