Apples and oranges

My children live in an unforgiving society. Unforgiving in a sense that there is always competition and a means of comparison. Conversation at the dinner table last night revolved around a close friend lamenting the fact that her 13 month old had no kindergarten to go to and she had no idea what enrichment classes she had to send the kid to. A mom with older kids at the table told us that it was found that kids who were hot-housed and sent to more enrichment classes than there were days in a week did better at the beginning but everyone leveled out by the time they were about 10.

That's comforting for me to know because much as I don't want to be party to the competition and the comparison, I inadvertently find myself being drawn into it and worrying about it. I have come to realise that it is not because I am an Amy Chua who is determined to mould my kids in likeness of me. Actually, I would never do that because I am a rather flawed product. But that's beside the point.

For me, I am naturally competitive and I like to win. Years of competitive running will do that to anyone. With the children, it is about them being able to get things. Walking, talking, fine motor skills, reading, 'riting, 'rithmetic and hoping on one leg. But the more I think about it, it really isn't about the fact that 'so and so's' kid is able to do this and therefore my kid can.
























It it about my burden of guilt. I am eternally torn. I work but I am pressured not to. I am constantly told that the ONLY way to be a good mom is for me to stop work and stay home with my children even if it means I have to chuck my love affair with Kate Spade and all things pretty. I fight that. Even my doctor has told me in no uncertain terms that I shouldn't stop work. Well, not stop work and just be a stay at home mom, at least. She thinks I have too active and too curious a mind to hack it and will end up going to see her for symptoms that will amount to depression even if I didn't know it.

It is my struggle to prove to myself that despite being at work, I am providing my children with the best. And because in an Asian society, affirmation is hard to come by, I often feel that I fall short. I feel this acutely when I hear about how well a friend's child is doing. Not so much because I am upset that my child did not come in first but because I feel that my child hasn't been able to accomplish the same thing because of me. It is like a report card that I have received and found the perpetual comment that plagued my primary school years, "Could have done better if more effort had been put in." Because I am not there 24-7 to guide the child and sit beside him or her and coach them through the finer elements of reading or writing or whatever it is we talking about.

I have 3 children who have varying abilities. Of course, with Muffin, we don't really know yet. His gifts seem to be cavemen baby like at this point, grunting, defending his turf and property and imprinting his perfect ring of 8 teethmarks onto anyone who tries. Then there is Evan who is a little kinesthetic klutz but soaks up words, both Chinese and English like a sponge. And of course, Jordan, the little Princess who loves all things pretty, has the ability to draw, paint and create worlds in her head but hates the thought of reading and would rather be sick than to try to read. Their various needs tear me once again in different directions, especially at the end of a long day. I give what I can but I know I could do more. But at what cost? I know the politically correct answer to that is that at all costs, even if it means my own sanity because mothers sacrifice everything for their own children. Perhaps, I have a sense of self-preservation or perhaps because I am just plain selfish, I have not been able to bring myself to that point. But that is the origins of the inner conflict.

I take comfort in what my older friend has said, that it all levels out and at some point, they all learn to read and write to about the same level of success. But at the same time, I would be remiss if I wasn't providing my children with the best opportunities, learning or otherwise. And that's when I feel like a lousy mommy who ought to quit her job and spend her day homeschooling them.

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