My parents have been together a long time, almost 40 years. I’ve seen them go through a lo— never mind. I haven’t seen them go through much. Why? Because I was raised in a typical Asian household. What I mean by that is it was hard to talk to them because I couldn’t talk back, i.e., question their authority and/or parenting skills, which made it hard for me to talk to them at all. I felt a lot of resentment and bitterness because I considered myself a good kid despite living in an environment of abuse, betrayal, little emotional support…and murder. That’s right..murder. I had two rabbits, John and Marsha, who had four little rabbits. I came back and they just happened to “run away.” I was crushed. A few years later, I spent the Fourth of July with my aunt and uncle, but before I left I told my parents that my cockatiel needed more bird food. When I came back it was dead. I don’t know how I survived my childhood living with serial murderers.
I don’t want this blog to be a bitchfest about what awful parents I had. They weren’t perfect, but they, like most people, are better grandparents than they were parents. That alone can ease a lot of hurt and release grudges that people my age with children may have. And I know that I could have had it much worse. Today, I count my blessings and have come to peace their shortcomings as parents and mine as a daughter.
My upbringing and family life were big reasons I didn’t think I’d be a great wife or mother. All my mom taught me was to go to school, school, school. Keep my room clean, and go to school. It was a very simple relationship, mine and my mother’s. She spoke highly of me when I was still there and from what I can tell, after I left. But after having kids of my own, I wanted to be more than what she was. I wanted to be a better mother than she was, and I wanted to be a better wife than she was.
From early on in our budding parenthood, I knew that Ryan and I weren’t raising our kid in a conventional way. We were so protective of our daughter and it resulted from the three of us being close. We didn’t live near any relatives, so she went with us everywhere. Our date nights were at Chuck E. Cheese and our best investments was a video tape rewinder for our movie collection (thank goodness for Blockbuster VHS movie sales). We were tight on money, but damn, we were happy.
She loved to hold our hands, snuggle, and we goofed around. She would play the Rugrats video game on the Playstation as I did homework next to her. When she stopped drawing three stick figures of her family, it was quickly replaced with love notes all over the house, in my purse, on the refrigerator addressing me and Ryan as her “best friends.” She didn’t understand why her friends at school were talking shit about their parents or why they get pissed off when their parents friend them on Facebook. These were such foreign concepts to her.
Our relationship with her and how we raised her was vastly different than how he and I were raised. We were judged for not putting her in daycare, for not having playing dates, for not forcing her to sleep in her own room as she got out of diapers, for letting her stay up late with us, just to name a few. But what she was “lacking” from those experiences, was replaced by the bonding we did by always being together. And as she got older, Ryan and I decided to be open parents with her, and subsequently, her younger siblings.
1) Open conversations. Like with any relationship you have, it’s always advised that honesty is the best policy. We don’t try to disgust her or embarrass her. But if my parent radar goes off, my immediate response is to let her know that I was a girl once too (and later, a teenage girl). I found that she was easier to talk to when she knew that we I’d gone through the same thing.
2) Drinking and other grown-up activities. For the first 15 years of our marriage we never drank. But when we did, it was always on a Friday and it was always in our home. This meant our kids would be home. I was hesitant at first because we emphasized “no drinking” for so long. I remember seeing my dad’s arm slung over my mom’s shoulder after a night of drinking in the backyard, giggling but at the same time feeling awkward. We didn’t want our kids feeling that same awkwardness with us, so we let them know that we don’t drink outside of home, which means we never drink and drive. Ideally, parents would try to shield these types of habits, but when it’s not possible, honesty is a perfect second best.
3) Honesty. Being called out for hypocrisy is embarrassing. Rather than tell our kids, “Don’t ever drink, smoke, or do drugs,” we tell them, “Yea, we tried it and wasn’t as great as people made out to be.” Clearly my goal is not to be parent of the year, but I think kids appreciate it more if we are honest and know that we make mistakes.
4) Being friends. Having girls makes it easier for me to relate to them. They’re always asking to borrow my clothes, hair accessories, and feminine products. She wants me to cut her hair? Dye it? I’m there for her. They show me songs to add to my playlist and viral videos to laugh at. They’re definitely my friends in that I listen to how their day went at school and I give them impartial advice.
5) Apologies. If I’m wrong, I apologize. Simple as that. And I expect the same from them.
6) Our primary role. I love the relationship we have with our kids. They tell us they love us when they leave the house, they tell me to have a great day at work, and they feel bad if they get don’t hug us back. “I know you’re mad at me, babygirl, but I’m going to give you a hug anyway. You don’t have to hug me back, but I want you to know I love you no matter what.” Works every time.
7) Open door policy. If our kids come to us and say, “Can I talk to you guys?” we drop everything or at least plan for a talk after dinner. We discuss everything as thoroughly as possible and leave nothing unanswered. We end each conversation by reinforcing that we have an open door policy and they always come first.
These seven things were NEVER discussed with me. I grew up being told that my parents had the final say, and if they were wrong, then time would probably make me forget it. Wrong. It’s not how relationships work – not with your employees/employers, not with your friends, not with your family, and certainly not with your children. Not only do I learn to do something by example, I also learn NOT to do something by example. Part of having a good relationship with our children is having a good relationship with Ryan and making sure that we’re on the same page in how we raise them. I didn’t know it, but I’ve become the parent that I wanted and the parent I want to be. My Relationship With My Parents My
I think about what people mean when they say “It was love at first sight.” Clearly it means when they first saw their significant other, boyfriend/girlfriend, lover, etc., that he/she was in love INSTANTLY. It’s a laughable concept, but valid to those who’ve experienced it. In the days before I met Ryan, in middle school, and certainly in the time when I had no desire to get married, I saw a boy who I thought was super cute. I stared at him as I walked from third to fourth period. I had never heard him talk, I didn’t know if he was AP classes or in remedial classes, and I didn’t know if he beat his dog. All of which were fairly important to me. After a few days, I decided to make a move in the best way a middle schooler could – I made a slam book. If you don’t know what this is, it’s an interview book of sorts and it was a big deal when I was growing up. Basically it’s a binder with loose leaf paper in it and each page has a question on it: name, favorite color, favorite movie, favorite actress/actor, and “If you were stuck at the top of a Ferris Wheel, who would you want to be with?” My slam book included a page entitled “Phone Number,” because I’m slick. I had all my friends fill it out just for show, then one of them gave it to my crush for him to do the same. All that just to get him to write his phone number. And he did. To make a long story short, I, the stalker, became the stalkee, and it was the most grueling 58 days of my life. Because this was during the summer, I was saved from the future embarrassment of seeing him around school and people knowing that we “went out.” This validated the belief that love at first sight is bull crap.
This is the list you will never see in Cosmopolitan. These suggestions are not for women who are squirmish or still feel sex has a lot of dirty aspects. I actually wouldn’t suggest these techniques to any woman who isn’t married and totally in love with her man. However, our readers can decide for themselves if they want to give their lovers moments that they will never forget. These are the moves that will make him say, “She was the wildest woman I have ever had in bed.” Whether he stays with you forever, or he moves on, he will never forget you.
I listen to Pandora at work. A lot. It helps me get through the day not to mention keeping me awake. I recently added an 80s hits station because sometimes I need to do the Carlton in my office to an era-specific type of music. Today, I heard the distinct synthpop intro of Whitesnake’s “Here I Go Again” trickle through tiny mesh metal speakers on my standalone work PC. I quickly hit the thumbs up icon on the track. I love this song.
Today Angelina Jolie discussed the removal of her ovaries and fallopian tubes in an op-ed article in the New York Times. I never liked Angelina Jolie as an actress, but I never disliked her. I never followed her in the news, I never went out of my way to watch one of her movies, and I didn’t have the need to know much about her. I knew a few things about her, like she was Jon Voight’s daughter and Billy Bob Thornton was cheating on his fiancee (who supposedly didn’t find out until Billy Bob and Angelina were married) with her. She was just kind of…there. Eventually I saw more of her in the media not because of her movies, but because of her humanitarian efforts, her growing family, and health issues.