To cut or not to cut

I am contemplating chopping my locks, save on shampoo and cut down the time on my blow dry sessions. What do you think?

Thank you for loving me

Whenever I think about Rusell Peters and his skit on dad and spanking, I am reminded of my own asian parents upbringing where one half (thank God) believes in the saying, "spare the rod, spoil the child".

My parents (or rather my mother only) is an old-school authoritarian and is a firm believer of what the experts like to call, conditional parenting. When I was younger I was made to believe, so frightened by her "threats" of rotan (canning), that if I am bad, mummy will not love me.

I grew up in a well balanced household with a pretty permissive daddy who is often blackmailed to give in to my whimps and fancies and a disciplinarian mummy who often dooled or withheld awards unless I behave according to her wishes. If I had driven her crazy with my naughty antics the night before, I will arrive in school the next morning with sightly red lines on my legs.

Back then, children my age were never exposed to child abuse advertisements with a hotline number printed largely at the bottom of our tv screens so we can call the child abuse line if ever we find ourselves or our neighbours' children being abused.

Neither was my mother "uber-cool" like most american parents who discipline their young children by forcibly isolating them, a tactic we prefer to call “time out.” The only "time-out" I have gotten when I was a child was my parents allowing me to sit on supermarket floors and wail my heart out while they continue browsing through their shopping.

Although I have yet to arrive at parenthood, I realised that one of the most powerful currencies of a child is parent's acceptance and approval. Till today, in most of my life's choices and decisions, I still seek both Home Ministers' seal of approval before I proceed to launch my next course of action.

I chanced upon an article recently and studies have shown that "..conditional parenting proved damaging. Those mothers who, as children, sensed that they were loved only when they lived up to their parents’ expectations now felt less worthy as adults."

I don't really know what does that mean in deep psychological sense but my years of education has helped me decipher that my mother's conditional parenting skills to reinforce my obedience could have actually caused me to suffer long-term psychological harm. If my mother reads this now, I am sure she will vehemently deny that her love for me is unconditional and her defence would be along the lines of "...of course I love you as my evil child without any strings attached." But according to studies, what counts is how things look from the perspective of the children — whether they feel just as loved when they mess up or fall short.

Eventhough my parents set up 101 rules for me that I couldn't understand back then (and some which I still have not understood), they helped me understand that rationality and sensibility are subjective. By not consistently appealing to mine interest helped equipped me with the strategies needed to contend with moments of tedium or instances when other’s interests supersede mine. Without strategies for tedium, I would most likely give up when a problem is too hard and I feels bored and frustrated. Thanks to dad, I have learnt that when I do not get what I want at the first instance, all I have to do is threaten to pack my bags and move out to the tent in my garden until they buy me or give me whatever I want at that time. Thanks to my no-nonsense and conditional loving mum, I also learnt that after sweltering under the tent for 2 hours, I will eventually get bored, tired, hungry and move back into the house - and to be greeted with the Cane, even worse off from where I have started. Sorry, I lack a conniving mind when I was 8.

 

Now, I have a greater respect for the sacrifices my parents made for me. And I don't mean material sacrifices. I mean the emotional ones of denying me a car when I was a teenager because they knew I liked to go out and more often than not over do it in libations. I hated them at the time but now it's different. Now I have a context for the past. Now I realize that they made tough choices and placed themselves in the roles of villains because they were guarding my well being and nurturing my potential.

As my parents' child, I am dependent on them to make the decisions when I am unwilling to or unprepared to. Sometimes, I will them to to be that bad cop for my own greater good. Even if I may resent them for some period for making my life miserable but in the long run, its always turn out sunshiney.

 

I also believe the study conducted as according to that article could be flawed because:-

a.) its written by an ang mor and so what does he know about asian parenting?;

b.) how many asian specimens did they interview to come up with that results?;

c.) I grew up to be a well-rounded kid, albeit a little emo at times;

d.) Most asian kids who grew up without the coodling have achieved pretty awesome things themselves, like most of my peers; and

e.) my parents have seen the depths of my heart and they still love me the same, or in fact, even more.

 

So, thank you mum and dad for being such amazing parents. Now at my quarter life crisis year, I am beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

 
Well, thanks to my parents for investing their life savings in a whole array of Enid Blyton and Brittania Encyclopedia, I did not become a stripper. I truly appreciate the sacrifices they have made for me just so I can grow up to be the lawyer I wanted to be since I was 10. and since I saw that child abuse advertisement. now i can start drafting my statement of claim against you both, muahahahaha!

Quay Side in Newcastle

I miss sitting by the river bank and watching the world go by.

Just another Junbug

After barraging my readers with a posts after posts of New year, countdown to New year and New Year related writing, my well of literary writing has run dry.

As I don't have a 3 year old kiddo to brag about

nor a husband who loves me endearingly and showers me with diamonds and more diamonds daily (yet)


nor am I a highflying career lady who jetsets to exotic places every week - there isn't much of life's gaffe to yak about.  Thus, my creativity juices that can flow are limited. Just like you cannot milk Long Island Tea(s) or Pina Colada(s) from a cow - I couldn't possible write about anything else other than topics I am kindred to.

Eventhough I do not lead an enthralling life, I trust things will pick up slowly over time. Since it is not rational or realistic to buy a husband online or to adopt a child from Africa just because the Jolie-Pitts are doing it, I am relatively stuck to make-do with the tools and little experience I have in life to keep my blog alive and my readers glued. I also do not have any profound interest in anything and even if I did once, it was just short-lived considering my short attention span - can't really go on ends about my panda obsession where I tried (but failed) to psycho my parents to buy one for me to keep in our garden. There is no particular celebrity that I worship and I hardly give two hoots if Jay Chou sings about boiled cabbages.

But I am still writing this blog because it is cheaper than therapy and I am certainly too poor to be able to afford a 100 dollars/hour session.

Reading back on my previous posts, I feel I have came a long way since when I first started. Writing and reading are highly therapeutic for me and gives me a great deal of perspective on life. By articulating my thoughts virtually, I am able to vent and rattle about my anguish, joy and various stages of my life to people that I have not meet, have not spoken to and also with those who are just too far and too busy with their lives to hear from me daily. I figured its not so much of what I have to say or what I have in life.

when I reach my golden years,

I know I can look back at my blog and have a good laugh.

I silently pray there will be more new ramblings to share as I go along in life.

Another Manic Monday

Why New Year Resolutions don't work

Peeps, Happy 2010! I am glad all of you made it back alive from the stampede of New Year's eve celebration that may have lasted till the wee hours of New Year's day itself for some. Hope you all had a whale of a fun that night with loud noises and slurred songs and that you have pulled yourself together - it could not have been pretty. 3 days must be more than enough for y'all to toast and roast in bed nursing your terrible hangover. Today, its back to reality baby. It's the 3rd day of 2010! It's time for our annual tradition of kicking off the New Year by setting ourselves up for failure and self-loathing.

What's your promise to yourself? Getting in shape? Getting organized? Getting out of debt? Getting in a relationship? Getting more involved in other things other than yourself?

Sure, I've made plenty of resolutions. They've all ended the same way. I'm still not ripped, and my room is still a mess.


My only resolution that has ever been successful is continuing to be totally awesome. That didn't take much work.

I've got no problem with resolutions. They're good things. But no matter how much we promise to ourselves that this year will be different, no matter how much we pray, no matter how much money we spend on a new home gym, 90% of us will give up our resolutions in failure.

I think I've got some reasons why.

1.) One whole day to make a commitment

Much like us Gentiles, the Jews  take New Year's to be a time of reflection, repentance, and promises of improvement. Know what comes before the Jew's New Year's? A whole month of psyching themselves up about how much more awesome they're going to be after the New Year. That's right. They spend a whole month looking at their lives, and what they're doing wrong, and how they can improve.

I on the other hand, see a random infomercial for a Bowflex, and on a whim decide that perhaps I should go to the gym...right after I finish this box of Oreos. I spend way more time thinking of what I should tell my family I want for Christmas, than I do telling myself what I want for New Year's. Because, after all, I can make the same resolution every New Year's. Asking for the same thing every Christmas is just stupid.

In other words, when you compare us to the Jews, the rest of us are kind of only using half our butts on this whole resolution thing. Anything that is given such a small amount of thought must not be that pressing.

2.) Resolutions aren't important

You've made it this far by being out of shape, disorganized, and dodging bounty hunters, and I applaud you. If you really needed to change, you would do it. But people are programed to take the path of least resistance. Most resolutions have no immediate benefit, either because they take too long, or they just aren't that beneficial to begin with.

If you want to change your life, it has to be a need. I'm going to need my shrink to tell me, "Nie, you must go and fall in love this year. If you don't, you will DIE a lonely death." Otherwise, why do today what I can put off until tomorrow? Most of us have resolutions that would be nice to keep, but not resolutions we need to keep.

3.) January is a terrible month to do Major things

 I personally am not a big fan of New Year's Day. It's usually cold as death outside, gray and wet, and depressing (when I was in England). January is a terrible month, and the start of a long, gray season (unless you're in Australia or live on the equator.) Everyone's taking down their dead Christmas trees. The only good thing is we have a bunch of new Christmas toys to play with while winter drags on.

They need to do a study to determine what is the most motivating day of the year, and make that New Year's. I vote for June 19th.

4.) Most resolutions are self-inflicted punishments

Most of us aren't masochists. We don't get some kind of weird pleasure out of inflicting pain on ourselves. But we pretend to be masochists on New Year's. We tell ourselves we've been "bad," and we're going to have to eat some "whole grains," or go "jogging" to punish ourselves for all the terrible stuff we've done to ourselves.

But within a week or two, most of us realize that we don't need to improve ourselves to raise our self-esteem, because there are medications that can raise our self esteems just fine, along with extending our lives far past what nature intended. So what's the point of living if you're going to be miserable?

What's your resolution? How are you not going to fail this year?