Kimchi Mamas

To Specialize or Not To Specialize. That is the Question.

(Please forgive the "first-world problems" feel of this post.)

As my children have gotten older (they are now almost 10 and just a touch over 12), I have noticed a disturbing pattern that I may have been unaware in the past: specialization.

My daughter's into soccer. She plays in a youth sports group and they practice for about 1 hour once a week, play once a week and the season is only about 2 1/2 months long at a time. She plays probably 2-3 "seasons" a year. Though she is 12, most of the girls on her team are 10 and 11. They "play up". Playing up is based on the theory that if you raise the level of competition they will play to meet that challenge (or something like that).

Many of the girls on her team will probably leave in the next season or two to move into "club" soccer. Club soccer here is more . . . specialized. This is when teams practice 3-4 times a week for an hour or an hour and a half each practice and will play 2-3 games a weekend. They will also travel to surrounding areas (and in Texas that could mean 3+ hours of driving) and play in tournaments that go on for entire weekends (Saturdays and Sundays).

My son was participating in Tae Kwon Do and in tennis.  A few months ago, he had to make a very difficult choice: he had to choose.  He is 10 years old and he was being forced into specializing. As a 10 year old he would do tennis 2 times a week and then TKD 2 times a week and depending on visitation weekends, TKD sparring on Fridaysa and TKD tournament team on Saturdays or a tennis tournament. Tennis was 2 private lessons a week plus 'clinic' for a total of about 7 hours of tennis a week. This wasn't enough . . . his new schedule is tennis 4 days a week (about 10-12 hours a week) and an average of 2 tournaments a month (tournaments begin on Fridays and end on Sundays if you're playing well).

I look around and I see it amongst many of our friends: a 12 year old who plays club volleyball - tournaments are all weekend long and consist of many games per day, a 14 year old who is now home schooled so she can pratice tennis 8+ hours a day, and a 17 year old who has been taking tennis lessons for 12 years.

And this is just the sports side. I know children who practice piano 15-20 hours a week, a neighbor's child plays drums for school, church and 2 bands (he's 16) and on and on and on...

In all of these cases (and from personal experience) I have been told that kids HAVE to specialize if they want to remain competitive. Competitive for school, college, scholarships, professionally.

As parents we want what's best for our children.

We want opportunities for them that we didn't have.

We give them the best so they can be their best. 

We want them to be competive and have an edge.

To have THE edge.

 

 

But what does that mean? And at what cost?

What's the "right" way to ask about your children's ethnicity or race?

I really enjoyed reading everyone's comments on my last post about ethnicity/race here... but now I am curious...

What is the "right" way to ask questions about a bi-racial/multi-racial (or not-so-obvious ethnicity/race) child's ethnicity/race? Especially if the child is only with one parent and it's not obvious, or if the child is adopted from a ethnicity/race not the same as both or either parent. Or is it even Kosher or PC, to ask about ethnicity/race anymore?

Some of the wrong ways might be:

Is your child adopted?

Is your wife/husband Oriental?

Is that your friend's son/daughter?

Are you the nanny?

Is he/she from China?

Where is your family from?

If you are the parent of a multi-racial or biracial child, how would you prefered to be asked about your child(ren)'s race, if at all?

 

- Mary

What to do?

I have a decision to make and I need your help. Because of circumstances beyond my control, I may need/want to drive down to LA with my two boys (2 and almost five) from the Bay Area. It's just for the weekend but I'd be going down by myself sans the hubby. I'd be driving by myself and then taking care of the kids all weekend mostly by myself. BY MYSELF. (As Aiden the two year old would say, "I DO IT! I DO MOMMY!")

It will be at least six hours. Probably driving down on Friday and coming back up on Sunday. (Not in the immediate future, in October.)

Guilt or Resentment?

Are Korean moms especially apt at laying on the guilt? Did the NPR writer who reviewed Please Look After Mom (sorry, I forget her name) have a grain of truth in her otherwise racist review? Or is the laying on of guilt an equal opportunity character flaw, available in abundance to all mothers to dole out?

I guess I won't know until my kids are grown if I made them feel overly guilty but I sure notice myself feeling guilty a lot. Almost every time I leave the kids with the sitter, I feel guilty. I feel relieved too, and I almost always come back more refreshed with more of myself to give... but still the guilt is there. I think it's better than feeling resentful, but I still don't like the guilty. Why do I feel guilty? Do I judge myself, compare myself to other moms who tell stories of how they didn't watch a movie for five years, or didn't spend the night away from their kids for 10 years? Sometimes I wonder if they are really sharing that information to pine about their life or to secretly brag.

The alternative is to give in to the guilt and not ever do anything to feel guilty. That would mean that I would not have any needs. Of course, that's impossible. I think I would be overcome by resentment if I was trying to avoid feeling guilty all the time.

I want to teach my children that it's OK to take care of yourself. It's OK to have needs. It's OK to give yourself a time out. I cannot make everyone around me happy. The best I can do is figure out what I need to be the best mom I can be most of the time, even if that means that the sitters watch the kids sometimes. I'm only human. Maybe some moms don't need a night out, or a weekend break every once in a while... but I guess I am one of the women who do. Does that make me a bad mother? I don't think so and I certainly hope not.

I definitely think that there is this expectation in the Korean culture that Korean moms are supposed to sacrifice everything, I mean EVERYTHING for their children. I don't agree with that. Sacrifice may seem like a virtue but not if the one sacrificing is building up a mountain of resentment the whole time. Sometimes I wonder if that's what han (한) is.... a huge mountain of resentment that the person carries along their whole life, buried deep within their soul, too afraid to let it see the light of day, lest it ruin everything in its path.

 

- Mary

Parenting Style

I haven't read Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mom. Just the excerpt in the Wall Street Journal. But I got to thinking, what kind of parents did I have? My mom was pretty much out of the picture, so what kind of dad did I have? He certainly was not a Tiger Father.

My dad did not sit with me and drill me on math. He did not make me practice the piano or the violin. I never had to learn tennis. I don't think he even owns a tennis racket. He never asked me if I did my homework, or even if I had homework. I had no curfew. I consistently came home well past midnight on Fridays. I never had any lessons. I could do whatever I wanted to on the weekends. I watched TV, Korean dramas, and played video games. I was in the school musical.

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

Recent conversations, FB status updates and varying degrees of parent status of fellow parent friends have me wondering about the great myth of “the light at the end of the tunnel.”

  ***

I don’t know what’s in the water, but I have what seems to be a lot girlfriends who are expecting in the upcoming months.  All of them are looking for the light at the end of [their] tunnel.  (*I apologize for the crude joke . . .) Some have spent a blissful 6, 7, 8, or 9 months of pregnancy; others have suffered swelling, nausea, and “tummy issues” for 4, 5, or 6 months; while others have had a combination of both the sweet and the sour.

Then there are my mother-in-arms who have infants and toddlers.  The tantrums, sleepless nights, crying, screaming and disciplining.  And those are just the parents… Their light at the end of the tunnel comes down to wanting a semi-regular schedule, a little person they can reason with without the tears (mom's or child's) and maybe getting into the shower before 2:30 in the afternoon or eating a hot meal that does not include partially chewed-on rice and ghim rolls.

There are my parent pals who have school-aged children. The light at the end of their tunnel is blocked by soccer/basketball/t-ball/baseball practice schedules, music lessons, language school, Sunday school/CCD, gymnastics, endless birthday parties/slumber parties and ensuring their well-roundedness as responsible, compassionate members of a global community on top of burgeoning school assignments and other academic pressures.

And of course there are the tween/teens.  Changing bodies, changing voices . . . changing smells(?!).  Hormones, tantrums, sleepless nights, crying, screaming and disciplining (it’s infants and toddlers re-do but super-sized!). New fears about sex[ting], drugs and rock and roll in the car while driving… Where has the child who used to fit in your lap gone? And who replaced him/her with this giant, taller-than-mom, locust eating his/her way through this week’s groceries in 3 day’s time?  The light at the end of the tunnel is a well-rounded child who will take their place in our world and a fridge that’s no longer raided by marauding teenage school-band gangs . . .

But alas, then it’s onto young adulthood.  You’d think watching your son/daughter get through college, medical an/or law school (Tiger Mom moment) and develop their place in our world would be the light at the end of the tunnel . . . Instead, it’s the time to see your offspring become the adult you always knew was in there, meet and fall in love with someone who makes them happy . . . and then observe as you watch them journey through their search for the light at the end of their tunnels.

--Angie in Texas knows not all tunnels are dark . . .

Open Thread Thursday

What are your thoughts on Tiger Moms, or other subjects, on this Open Thread Thursday?

 

- Kimchi Mamas

Nosey Ajummas

I dislike nosey Korean ajummas (even though I may be one of them.) I do my best to smile, nod, and ignore them... let it go in one ear, and come out the other. You see, I don't care what you know, until I know that you care. (Sorry folks, I did not come up with that awesome quote myself.) I discovered that I dislike nosey White ajummas too.

 

I got a great dose of it this past weekend. It was a rather strange experience. I walked to a local cafe with the baby and boy. While we were there, this White ajumma started talking to my son. She completely ignored me. Didn't even say hi or ask me any questions. But she went on and on and on and on... and on... talking to my son. Even to my 1 year old. Her topics ranged from why pirates weren't the "bad guys" to how infants can sign before they can talk to what the meaning of "sick" is when teenagers say it. I was too amused and stunned to say anything while in her presence. It wasn't like she was trying to have a conversation with my 3 (almost 4) year old. She was talking "at" him. He was struggling to just say some stuff he wanted to say. I laughed.

Open Thread Thursday

It's late but... It's Open Thread Thursday. What's on your mind?

Today I read this article about 20 Something Men (at church).

http://newsweek.washingtonpost.com/onfaith/panelists/mark_driscoll/2010/08/the_world_is_filled_with_boys_who_can_shave.html

What do you think ladies, do we agree or no?

Also a more general and academic article about the "new" 20 Somethings (including women.)
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/22/magazine/22Adulthood-t.html

- Kimchi mamas

Konglish Kids

I haven't written much here lately but I think I have a pretty good excuse.  I'm in the middle moving my family to Korea.  Daegu, Korea to be exact.  Our stuff is packed up and gone, presumably on a boat headed towards the motherland and I'm typing this post out from our hotel room as I stress about the epic flight that lies before me.  (I am clinging to the fact that we are on a Korean Airline Flight where the service is amazing.)

We will be there for 3 whole years.  It's kind of mind boggling to imagine how changed we might be when we return.  3 years isn't a short amount of time -- especially for kids.  It's more than a lifetime for my daughter.  And being the Kimchi Mama I am, I couldn't help wondering how this would affect my THIRD generation KA children.  How will it affect their language?  How will it affect their perception of social rules and how they perceive themselves ethnically and nationally?  

Might you other Kimchi Mamas be interested too?  If you are, come join me on my adventure at Konglish Kids.  It's the blog I started to kind of keep track of how this move and immersion into South Korean society affects my third generation KA kids.

One favor to ask though.  I've been pretty open over here and in my other blogs about our identities.  The babes were younger and we were in a safer location.  Captain J however, has requested that I continue blogging only if I do a better job as this anonymity thing.  I've closed down my personal blog that I used to use our real names on, and on Konglish Kids I've come up with super secret code names.  So if you could please help me by starting to use the super secret code names if you need to use names and just be super secret about names and places in general.  I hope rather than us, it'll be more fun to talk about what's actually happening, if anything actually happens at all.