TheAsianparent pulls out the downright pig-ugly from the Little Bag of Bad Parenting and shares what irks most people about annoying mummies.
“Hi I’m Jane Doe and I like sucking up.”
We’ve seen them before. Parents who plant their noses into the firm butt cheeks of the school’s Board of Decision Makers, not only to sniff and kiss out every vile stench and flavour of those empowered but also to guarantee their children are secured a place in *insert prestigious Big Brand school here*
No, the team at TheAsianparent is not knocking suck-up parents here. If anything, we know that it’s critical that parents actively support their schools as research has shown that such positive involvement causes children to behave better or even score higher on tests.
But at what cost? Every parent remembers the secondary school overachiever who was born into money, blessed with looks and always came in first in schooling or sports. Very often, it was both. Many of us have had brushes of fame – however fleetingly – with them and looked on with much enviousness. Fast forward ten years and these consummate ‘professionals’ who made everything look easy have grown into upper class snobs, first in line again, albeit in a rather different line of work.
Unfortunately, this lip-smacking puckering up transcends all cultural classes and social divide. These days it’s not uncommon to spot the snobs in a sea of middle class Regular Joe Blows.
Such predatory networking is embarrassing, odious and frankly quite rude. Sorry, but who died and made you the champion of World Peace (or whatever the school is raising funds for) when there are hundreds of more deserving parents who fit the bill? What, you live just a hundred meters out of the 5km ‘preferred’ radius? Oh cry me a river already. And you, stop that whinging. Promoting elitism in a society driven by positive results and the ‘money talks’ mentality is not the best thing since sliced bread. More is not always best.
Charades With An Infant
You’ve seen it before in public and it’s much too common to be relegated as a case of knocking back a couple of cold ones. There you are, sitting in the food court with your mates, minding your own business. You’re only half aware of the couple with the toddler at the next table.
Then it happens. The kiddo starts crying, and Eager Mommy attempts to placate kiddo with a series of comical gestures that mimic antics and gesticulations honed by master miming artists. It’s a throwback to the dark days of Win, Lose or Draw when civilised human beings decked out in proper attire tried to outdo their Neanderthal cousins with comical movements, imaginary drawings and confounding guesswork. Comedy never had it so good.
Sign language is all good. When a child reaches a stage of life where advanced communication is needed due to physical impairment or is interested in learning it as a craft, no dissuading is needed. After all, communication is communication.
Yet most parents fail to understand the three fundamental points of understanding a baby. Eat, Sleep and Poop. Yes it’s not so much about the understanding bit; it’s all about being understood.
In fact, it’s this easy. It’s all about the three-step routine.
Baby is hungry and cries. Don’t sign and perform guesswork. Check nappy and comfort Baby.
Baby is tired and cries. Don’t sign and perform guesswork. Check nappy and comfort Baby.
Baby has pooped in the nappy and cries. Don’t sign and perform guesswork. Check nappy and comfort Baby.
There you go. Unless you reckon you’ve got a shot at public adulation ‘coz your baby talks like Bruce Willis, save yourself the humiliation and keep the sign language under lock and key. Or just use it at home.
To Breast Or Not To Breast?
I don’t have breasts. Actually that came out wrong. I don’t have breasts that are capable of lactation. I’d never know what it feels like to provide nutrition or feed my young one, nor would I know what it feels like to be looked upon by those little baby eyes and be instantly recognised as FOOD. If I knew I have been empowered to provide food and life to a helpless little being, I know my life would change forever. That little being is under my custody, my protection and my little window to a world I’ve long forgotten. But I wouldn’t know it, because I don’t have breasts.
However, what I do know is women have a choice with their breastmilk. Or rather, what they do with it. Whether it is beliefs, religion, superstitions, health or even personal reasons, it’s extremely annoying and even rude to be looked upon with scorn and distaste just because you do not breastfeed your child.
Yes we’ve all read, watched and heard reports on the health benefits of breastmilk. Yet it’s these same reports that we’ve just read, watched and heard that we’ve been privy to the smaller communities of women around the world who are against breastfeeding.
Personally I know a few tweens (the ages 7-14) from my personal tuition and school leader days who grew up solely on milk formula. These kids act, behave and look just like any other kid out there. Spritely, active and always thirsty for knowledge.
Pro-breast feeding or anti-breast feeding, that’s for the fervent breastfeeding zealots to sort it out. Until the day some sort of legislation is passed due to a breakthrough in breast feeding science, mothers around the world have a choice in what they do. It is really no one else’s business when it comes to breast feeding. After all, Mother knows best.