How I See Parenting

The problem with most parents these days is that they give this illusion of authority to their kids. What's worse, this illusion is often misconstrued as expression of love, which is equal parts inaccurate and misleading.

We are here as parents to guide children to become decent, mature, and accountable adults who know their place in the world and who stretch their potentials as far as they can. We should set the bar high for our kids, and at an early age we should already acquiant them with realistic expectations. I am not saying that we should pressure our children to someday cure cancer or to be virtuouso pianists at age 9. By realistic expectations I mean acing the spelling quiz or winning the Science Fair for building a scientifically-accurate Tardis replica.

There should be no shame is demanding academic brilliance from our children. Remember: we do not automatically become snobs by putting more value in frequenting the library or in buying Russian literature than in One Direction posters.

Our goal here is not to raise 21st century brats who live in a bubble of instant gratification. Our goal here is to make sure they grow up to be honest, hardworking, respectful, well-rounded individuals who show up on time and who do not copy-paste passages from blogs just so they can sound knowledgeable or appear to have a command of the English language. I would give my own life to my daughter in a heartbeat if it comes to it, but there is no way in a million years that I will buy her the latest iPhone model on her 12th birthday.

Expecting greatness from our kids should be something innate to us parents. Because sometimes fulfilling that expectation is not the most important part of the learning process, but the acknowledgement of the expectation and the dedication to get there. Raising the bar of expectations for our children allow them to exploit every corner of their being. If we encourage excellence and critical-thinking, they will never be vulnerable to social prejudice nor will they easily sway to cultural norms and religious grey areas.

It is not part of our job to set up a fence of "what they should only be" that will box them in for the rest of their lives. We should allow them to shine, so that they may inspire the same radiance to others.

More than anything, I believe it is our duty as parents to make sure our children get the best possible care without necessarily alienating them from the harsh and often-crappy realities of the world. We should love them wholly, without judgment or criteria, but with that unconditional love should come authority and mutual respect. Our end-game should be raising individuals with good character and strong values, not 17-year olds who can treat their parents like potted plants when push comes to shove.

The Land of the Free

We've been here five months and I haven't found a decent job. By decent, I mean a job that pays above average, provides insurance, and boosts my self esteem. There, I said it. 

Back in the PI, I had a good job. Heck, I had a great job. It paid twice the rates my Suma Cum Laude classmate earns. I was respected by a team and my line of work was something that only a few can stay good at. I was someone back home yet here I am in the Land of the Free feeling so small and invisible. 

I've had a number of phone calls and interviews but no position fell through. It's just so frustrating. If I were back in the PI, I would've landed any job I wanted because I know I have what it takes.

But then again this is the exact situation The Mister has been warning me about. Months before we left, he was conditioning me; he wanted me to erase that someone mentality. Because here, it will not matter where you come from or what your previous jobs were. It will not matter whether you work in an office or in a factory line - money is money. If you work hard, you get paid. If you do not work, you can't buy the stuff that you want. Simple. Pride is irrelevant.

Perhaps I should shrug this third world disposition off. Back in the PI, job title and paycheck defines who you are. Well at least that's how I saw it. But here, it doesn't really matter. A bank manager and a cleaning lady can drive the same car and can eat the same food. Heck, they can ever wear the same brand of cologne and no one will give a shit.

Maybe it's an Asian thing that I have. As cliche as it may be, it is actually true what they say that Asians are overachieving smartasses. We are, but I have to get out of my little Asian bubble and start embracing the frame of mind that these Joes have.

The American culture amazes me at times. And hopefully that culture rubs off on me soon. Real soon, otherwise I'm gonna lose my mind.

On Speed Dial

 

There is a reason why I’m keeping your face my wallpaper.

A go-to explanation would be that, perhaps this is the quickest way to get over things. That by putting your living face in front of me every day, I would finally succumb to the reality of your death. Just like going cold turkey is the best way to quit smoking, seeing your picture 24/7 will force me to accept that you are no longer here. And hopefully things will get better from there.

It is also possible, that maybe I just miss you and seeing a picture of you on a regular basis will somehow help ease the pain. Losing a loved one leaves an indelible mark in the heart, but it’s the “I miss you” part that’s devastating. So maybe if I get to see your picture every day, missing you won’t be so difficult to bear. 

Nah.

You are my wallpaper because I need a reason to believe in myself. I need something solid; a valid reason why I shouldn’t give in to self doubt and insecurities. I need that slap in the face whenever I begin to tread off course. I need to hear that deep, soft voice in my head, telling me that no matter how crappy things can get, in the grand scheme of things everything will fall into place. I need reassurance. I need that extra push.

When the entire world thought I was good for nothing, you stood by me and told me that I have depth. Heartbreak after heartbreak you helped me pick up the pieces over a cup of coffee or a good all-you-can-eat menu. When I thought I wasn’t worth a dime, you made me feel like I was Hilary fucking Clinton. 

So I’m keeping your face in front of me for as long as I can. This is my way of putting you on speed dial. 

Setting Goals

My goal as a parent is to not be obsolete to my child/ren.

I'm in a pretty crappy place right now, parent-child wise (me being the child). It's a long story and I would have to subject you to a telenovela to fully understand where I'm coming from. So that's not gonna happen.

Bottom line is, I don't want P to come to a point where "letting me go" becomes a reasonable option. I am no perfect parent, in fact I am faaaar from it. But I am hoping that in 25 or so years, P will tell me that her Dad and I had this huge, life-molding effect on her.

It's not about pride or drama, it's about pure human influence. I want her to grow up and grow old and think of us, her parents, of how we helped her be the person that she has become, and how much our mere presence helped her become the very person (and hopefully the parent) that she is. 

I want her to think of me and her Dad as more than Mom and Dad; I want her to think of us as examples. The Mister and I are not perfect and neither of us are great at parenthood and marriage this kind of stuff, but we have gone out of our way to make sure our daughter grows up in an environment where love, respect, and reason preside. And I want her to value herself, beyond wealth, achievement, and music genre dictates. 

I want P to become a grown woman who loves her parents, not because of the things she has but because of the things that she has seen and learned with them. I want her to grow up and marry someone who values her like her Dad values her Mom. I want her to raise a child with the same (if not more) amount of love, care, and respect that her parents raised her with. 

I want her to not become obsolete to her kids.

Tis the Season

Let me just say this --

More than the religious aspect of Christmas, the psychological and emotional effects the holidays have on us are reasons enough to celebrate. I'm not so sure about December 25 as being the actual birth of Christ, but I am sure that the Christmas season gives us all a strange sense of positivity.

People are suddenly generous and understanding. We suddenly become aware of the things and people around us. People tend to forgive more (during the holidays). 

I may not believe that Christmas Day is Christ's actual birthday, but I believe in the warmth and hope that the season brings. We need warmth and hope. The world is becoming a scarier place by the minute, and warmth and hope is good.

Happy Holidays!

Dear Mr. President

Good day. I hope you are doing well. 

I am a Filipino immigrant (migrated three months ago) here in Wisconsin. My husband, although born in the Philippines, is a naturalized U.S. citizen. I came here with my 2-year old daughter and we are really glad that your country allowed us to stay and live here for good. 

We've been here three months but we haven't been around much. My husband has a full time job so it's just me and my daughter at home most of the time. Sometimes we go to the library, which is two blocks away, and sometimes we go to the park beside the pond. Back in the Philippines, our libraries and parks are shabby, almost non-existent, and for that I will always consider us lucky. 

We haven't been to Olive Garden or IHOP. We haven't been to Six Flags or Disney Land. But in the short time that we are here, we already know violence too well. Mr. President, my daughter means everything to me. She turned my life upside down in a good, refreshing way. Just the other day I was scouting for good pre-schools in our town because I was planning to enroll her this coming school year. But with what happened in Connecticut, home-schooling starts to make more sense. 

We love it here, Mr. President. We love the independence and the convenience of getting things done. Our neighbors are kind, couteous people. But apparently here in America kind, courteous people become monsters. I feel so scared, Sir. I'm scared that my beautiful little daughter will not be safe in school, a place that's supposed to be a child's second home. 

What do you think should I do? I don't want to be scared every single day. I want to be able to drop my daughter in school and not feel the slightest kind of worry. I want to go to work confident that come 5:00, I will see my daughter again and hear everything about her day. I want to go to the mall with my daughter in hand without being vigilant for people holding guns. I want my entire family to watch movies in the cinema, and not just wait for Blu-Ray or Netflix because it's safer.

I know you have the entire world on your shoulders and my problem is really just a morsel of what you have on your plate right now, but I do hope that you can help me. I know the Philippines has its horrors and we are not as great as the U.S. in so many levels, but I was never scared there in the same way that I am scared here, now. I love America, but tonight I wish we were back home in Cebu, watching third-world TV shows in our third-world TV living the third-world life.

Respectfully yours,

E.

24 & Fabulous!

Today is my 24th birthday.

Back in high school, I thought people who are approaching their mid-20s are scary and serious. I thought by 24, one should have her own car or perhaps hold a Master's degree. By 27 you get married, and by 30 you announce to your friends that you are expecting a baby.

I'm 24. I'm married and I have a beautiful 2-year old daughter. I don't have my own car yet and neither do I have a Masters degree. Hell, I don't even have a Bachelor's degree. I left school a semester shy and since then it's been getting more challenging to come back. And that's okay.

You will come to a point in your life where everything, and I mean everything, is okay. You can't find a job? That's okay. You missed a deadline? That's okay. Still pining for the love of your life? That's okay. Failed an important exam? That's okay. 30 and still single? That's okay.

It's not apathy, it's just the rare ability called letting go. Why dwell on something that you know will destroy you? Choose not to nurture dark and twisty thoughts and instead come up for air and embrace the sunlight. 

My life is not perfect, but whose is? We all have problems. We all have things we wish we have but couldn't. We all have been hurt, cheated, betrayed, and violated. But at the end of it all, the only difference will be how you managed to glue yourself back together and how you handle your life despite the damage. You can choose to let go or you can choose to bask in the brilliance of your failures and stay there until you kick the bucket.

As for me, I choose to be 24 and fabulous!