Boys and girls

More and more, I’m realising how people use gender categories to explain everything, and it makes me want to laugh and scream in equal measure.

Some time ago, had a tense little discussion in my philosophy class where I proposed that the sex (I am not even going to make the gender/sex distinction anymore because the two words are not really that different. The sex categories – male and female – are constructs too, just as ‘gender’ is) is not really a thing, or at least not really a thing to be dwelled on, and got mini lecture from prof on how the human mind needs to think in terms of categories. Um. Well, yeah, but they can be more than ‘this’ and ‘that’ no? They can be ‘this’ and ‘this’ and ‘this’ etc. The need to stop at two is just …lazy.

Seriously, I think a lot of the time, people stick with the girl-boy explanation out of sheer laziness.

The other day, a mother in my building whose daughter used to go the Benji’s school, asked me if Benji’s birthday was coming up. I said yes, but that we’re not really doing anything, because I’m busy and Benji isn’t too bothered. Immediately, she writes back ‘yeah, boys won’t ask.’ Hello, it is possible that Benji is just a kid that doesn’t want a hoopla for his birthday. I say this because I was also that kid. I noticed last year that Benji was kind of stressed out before his birthday party, though he ended up having a good time. And this year, he’s been saying ‘do I have to have a birthday?’ and explicitly doesn’t want us to send a cake to school. I am sensitive to this, because only as a grown up I realised I hated being the centre of attention on my birthday. It took be 20 years to stand up for what I wanted. So maybe I’m a boy. (In fact, increasingly I think that’s the simplest way to explain my personality to people: ‘I’m a man … in drag.) Or maybe this explanation is just nonsense, and Benji doesn’t want a birthday hoopla because he is a human being with his own likes and dislikes that do not conform to a gender category, just as most people’s don’t if we could only give up our obsession with categorising.

Also my helpers. Often when they want Benji to do something, they go, “because you’re a boy”, or Mimi isn’t doing it “because she’s a girl.” It’s almost a reflex response. Often, they could well say “because she’s smaller” because that’s the real reason. But sometimes, it’s more complicated to explain why they can’t do something and they just go with the gender thing. It’s like gender is the new God, now that we can’t say ‘God will punish you anymore’.

The Mad Momma had once written about how if you really want your kids to internalise your value system, you can’t leave them to helpers. And I’m seeing this now. My helpers are awesome and most of the time, our value system’s match. Like, my helper has really taught Benji and Mimi some good habits. But the gender thing is a step too far for them.

My policy with my helpers is not to interfere too much because I have chosen to let them have a hand in raising my children, and I cannot micromanage. But the gender thing has gotten out of hand, and a couple of times, I’ve snapped, and I think now they’re realising that this is a sticking point with me. So at least in my presence, I don’t hear this boy-girl explanation. But obviously, ingrained mindsets are hard to break and I can’t say what’s going on when I’m not there.

Doesn’t help that V also resorted to the ‘let’s do boy things together’ dialogue. It backfire severely when Benji insisted V do everything with him, and Mimi just to be contrary said ‘I want Daddy’ and he had two kids hanging off his arms, both screaming at each other. I just sat back and crossed my arms. But the ‘boy and boy’, ‘girl and girl’ thing has stuck and I can only be the counter-current.

Even in my own house, I cannot break the dynamic. And I am a feminist. So sorry, I cannot buy the essentialist argument yet. Because even those of us with the best (non-gender-essentialist) intentions have to raise our kids in a society where people are obsessed with gender. We have no pure experimental environment to solve the nature/nurture debate on gender. Till such time, I’m leaning towards nurture.

Essential reading on this topic: The case of Indian athlete Dutee Chand.

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Happenings

My life right now is kind of schizo. I’m tyring to record it, partly to vent, partly so I can look back and laugh.

1) Another playdate happened. Each of these is like an event that I come out of with nerves frazzled. This time at Indian girl’s house. She is not a great friend of the two boys and I wondered if forcing these friendships works. Well, from this experience it seems like maybe it does. She seems to be growing on my boy, so maybe they will be closer in school too having now had some common experiences out of school. In fact, at some point the other boy was left out and he had a mini meltdown.

Their house is ginormous. Why can some people with normal apartment houses not invite us over? These people, in addition to garden with trampoline, have entire room with toys for their kids. I on the other hand have a husband who thinks two baskets of toys is too much. The thing with these large houses is that the living rooms are beautiful etc (whereas mine functions as an extended playroom, dining room, TV room, and closet) and there are designated areas where the kids can play, which the kids don’t always want to abide by so one has to rush over shooing them into preferred area.

Also, I feel like I was on edge, constantly correcting my child even when he was doing normal kid things like talking loudly (one mother kept saying ‘inside voices’) or playing with a noisy toy. And Benji was pretty well behaved. He ate himself beautifully.

After the disaster playdate at our place, we have been insisting the kids sit in one place and eat, and that Benji eat by himself. It’s been a week and it’s been going ok. I made the mistake of mentioning this to one of the mums at the playdate and she was like “they’ll do what they can get away with” semi-sanctimoniously and I was like arrgh, can’t people just commiserate instead of getting know-it-all in these matters.

I think I feel the judginess of modern parenting too keenly and need to find a balance whereby I let some things go with my kid even if it’s not the other parent’s preferred style. It’s looking like this is going to be a once a week thing. The mothers seem to talk a lot about their kids and school stuff. A tad excessively. I like getting this kind of information, but not for two hours. At one point, I escaped the mothers and started hanging out with the kids, and realised I was happier there. Imagine! Me! Choosing the kids over the adults. For me the final straw was when one kid was talking in a baby voice and the mother kept trying to ask us if our kids were, and she ends up blaming this on another kid in the school, and I’m like whaaa?

I am aware that more than half of this is my own insecurity and feeling like a fish out of water, so bear with me.

2) Had a bad day on Facebook. A family member put up one of those ‘omg this food will kill you’ type posts. I pointed out that if one avoided a food on those grounds, one would have to avoid almost anything off a shelf. Apparently, a comment, a response and a comment again is too much for some people to handle and I was summarily dismissed.

It suddenly occurred to me that some people like to share stuff and expect people to comment positively or ‘like’ otherwise STFU. This had seriously not occurred to me, and definitely not with this person. I was like oookay. My rule of the thumb hereafter is follow this guideline of ‘liking’ except for select few who almost always can be identified by having a Humanities degree.

On the other hand, I was also quite rude to someone who commented on something I posted. The article was this  ( a gripping read if you like birth stories, though maybe a tad slow going at the beginning. The person, who was actually a friend of friend (so my first thought was “who are you?”) said something along the lines of “hypnobirthing tells you that pain is not pain” and I just saw red. It’s all very well to tell women not to overdo the fear factor of the whole experience, but this idea that ‘now now ladies, it’s not pain, it’s actually just nature” makes me want to stab someone with a spoon and tell them that’s nature. Ouff. Anyway, the person who commented was most offended and left me a huffy comment and blocked me (which is fine because I don’t even know her) but I do wish I could have apologised because the tone of my response was a bit aggressive (although that was my calmed down version).

So much FB drama in one day. (Note: This is not the time to tell me you’re not on FB. If you’re not, congratulations. I happen to think the Internet is part of real life, and enjoy FB quite a bit, including the involved discussions that happen among those that are open to them.)

3) PhD life is chugging along. I have thing after thing after thing. I’m trying to tick them off one by one instead of getting into a panic about going arrrrgh (at least visibly).

Last week, I had a presentation that went spectacularly. The reading was tough, but I have fallen in love with Irigary even I don’t agree with her final position on the question of difference. When I got to class, which happened after a break of two weeks, everyone was saying how they didn’t understand a thing and I had a mini panic attack because I felt pretty confident I had understood it but what if that was all an illusion and I had completely missed the point? Turned out I am a genius and had cracked it, and the professor actually gasped when she saw my chart. Yes, I did a chart. V helped me. The second essay I presented wasn’t awesome, but I think everyone was sufficiently wowed by the first one. You know you’ve done well when someone asks for a copy of your presentation.

In our department, we have to attend these periodic sessions where other student present their work. At some point, it was decided that it was compulsory to attend (fine. I like attending anyway) and that every PhD student had to ask questions. One question per semester it seems. Okay then. I asked a lot of questions in the last session so didn’t feel burning need to come up with something this time. In fact, I did think of a question but felt that since I had overdone it last time and there is a time limit on the sessions, I should shut up.

Bad call. One faculty member turned to us after the session and was like: “You’re supposed to ask questions.” I pointed out I had in the previous sessions and he’s like: ‘At every session.’ My god. I just stared at him like he was nuts.

Which I’m convinced he is. He’s new, so new that embarrassingly at the first session I thought he was a student. At that session, he asked us if we’d been to our office yet – it was two days after the semester started – and when we said no, he looked very upset. What a weirdo.

The Playdate

Happened.

The things I worried about did not come to pass.

The house was reasonably in order – though we did change the sofa covers and at the last hour I removed all the coats from the adhoc closet in our hall that has been functioning as a clothes rack, toy cabinet and snack storage area (in sealed containers) – and albeit small, the two mums (or their kids) did not fall over in shock.

There was a small incident with a cockroach that made an appearance (!), thankfully (?) a bit after we had an a discussion about how most people seem to have a cockroach problem and how ours is due to renovations upstairs. Still, it was mortifying.

Moving on. The food turned out fine – the kids ate it, as much as kids can be expected to, and the mums liked it.

However. My child turned into a complete riot. He was so excited to have friends over + I made the mistake of letting him have a couple of Indian sweets that one of the mothers brought along and that might have contributed to his behaviour. Which involved shrieking, running, jumping uncontrollably, thereby inducing the other kids to do so as well and leaving us all dazed. This sounds like regular kid behaviour but it was at a pitch that was unsustainable.

In addition to not listening to me when I ordered him to calm the eff down (I did not say the eff part out loud), he also did a couple of unseemly things such as spitting a mouthful of pasta out into his plate because he encountered a herb he didn’t like.

My conclusion is that we need to work on his manners a tad and also be less tolerant of his penchant to do as he will which is getting out of control. He gets a pass because he has historically been a calm and easy child, but I think we might have reached a moment that requires intervention before the behaviour spirals further.

Mimi also did not acquit herself admirably because she joined in the rumpus wholeheartedly and also grabbed a couple of cookies brought by one mum, ate a bite, and them came and dumped them back in the box, not because they weren’t nice but because she just doesn’t have a sweet tooth.

I failed, because I did not try to control them until it was too late and they had already turned into little demons. Morever, one of the girls was saying a made-up word that Benji has been saying a lot, and I blithely took credit for the word saying it was meaningless but annoying, and then got later ticked off by V for a) making our kid the root of the annoying word b) doing so when we didn’t know if it was true because I had misunderstood V and thought he and Benji came up with the word, when V said Benji had probably learnt it from school.

So overall, I’ll give us a C. Minus.

In other niggles, the girl who I invited because her mum invited us and I felt bad, was a tad left out. The fact is that I don’t think she is a great friend of the two boys. I think her mum’s strategy is to throw her together with some kids and hope that they get along. More experienced mums, does this work? I’m 50-50 on this. My kid explicitly said he didn’t want her to come and I was dreading him actually voicing this on the day, but thankfully he was kept his rude thoughts to himself and even went into her car without a fuss. But it was clear she was sort of the third wheel and as a parent that would make me sad. Anyway, we are supposed to be going over to their house next week, unless the invite is pulled in the light of my child’s holy terror behaviour.

What did the mums talk about?

1) The two guest mums talked about the school their older children both go to.

2) They complained about things they don’t like in the kindergarten our kids go to. I contributed by mentioning the runny noses of some little ones and they took this more seriously than I did, resulting in me regretting mentioning it.

3) PhD programmes. Apparently, in some places, you pay for the number of courses you take as you go along. PhD mum went a little green when she heard I was being paid to do it. However, she did not know how little I am being paid. Still.

The talk was easy, but interrupted with kids screaming, thus very truncated and leaving one with a feeling of fragmentation and not having said exactly what one wanted to because one didn’t have the time to clarify anything.

In summation, this comic strip.

Weird and wonderful happenings

I walked into office last week and felt something was not quite right with my desk. I noticed that the CPU was angled a bit wrong but figured someone had been using my computer, which sometimes happens. I don’t really use my office computer except as a conduit for printing, which is why it was only after I had emailed my presentation to myself and switched on the desktop that I realised what was wrong – my mouse was missing. A gander around the office did not yield the missing mouse. I roped in a colleague to confirm that I was not indeed imagining that someone had made off with my mouse. Then I gave up and called ITO. The ITO guy said he would replace my mouse but never turned up and so I left. The next day – no mouse. Called ITO and the guy said: But I left it on your desk. Curiouser and curiouser. Turns out he left it on the wrong desk. But it wasn’t even there. Further questioning revealed he had left it on a desk in the wrong office! Two hours later, he turned up with a replacement. I just find the whole thing funny because a mouse is called a mouse.

***

Mimi is ready to go to school. V is not ready to send her. Or rather to pay the exorbitant fees for pre-nursery. He figures we can put it off till next year. I, on the other hand, am faced with a child who throws tantrums every morning because everyone (i.e. father, mother and brother) seem to be going somewhere but she isn’t. She will go the park later, but she can’t wait. She wants to have an agenda. She attends playgroup twice a week and she likes the idea of ‘my school’.

Suddenly, I realised I had been counting on her getting into Benji’s school and not applied anywhere else. And there had been no word from his school though I had applied months ago. Pushed the school and finally they arranged an interview today. Mimi is familiar with the school and eager to go, but she still did a meltdown while getting ready (ended up taking her in the thankfully fancy pajama set she insisted on wearing) and had to bribe her with M&Ms to sweeten her up literally.

I had been trying since yesterday to prime her with the idea of talking to someone at his school, as opposed to just playing which is what she usually does. It didn’t help that Benji went: “No you can’t come to my school because you’re small and you’ll cry.”Heh. In the end, she squeaked out a few words to the principal who quickly gave up on interviewing her and said it was fine. A whole lot of kids emerged into the area and Mimi seemed quite interested in them.

It’s interesting watching the school during the time when parents usually aren’t in. I always wondered how teachers keep and eye on that many little ones – and it appears, they don’t. Even though they had a lot of them, there were kids wandering around and kids with runny noses and kids bawling. The teachers did comfort some kids, but my takeaway is that parents should think twice before sending kids too school too early. My son’s school is one of the better ones and still it’s hard for the teachers to wipe every kid’s nose.

Mimi’s ‘interview’ was a write-off. She barely spoke to the principal, and she drew a few lines when asked. But the principal to my relief said it was fine and they’ll reserve a place for her. The cutest thing was after school, Benji rushed out and hugged and kissed her, and took her to show his teacher, who seemed a little disinterested hmph.

***

Benji has a bestie who comes from a more affluent background. This means that J’s mum is keen to organise play dates so that J has someone to play with since they’re pretty much marooned in a big house out in the boondocks. (It really is out there – seems impossible to reach by public transport which is rare in Hong Kong). Her kid doesn’t sleep in the afternoon and mine does – and while I obliged by letting Benji skip his nap one day, I did not appreciate the little lecture on how I should try to wean him from his nap. Um, why would I do that? Ironically, J sleeps at 7 pm or something, and when I suggested he come play in the evening, his mum got all angsty about him changing his timing. I don’t know how people don’t see the irony of these things.

Anyway, after Benji went to J’s house twice, I felt the need to reciprocate. The thing is, it would be fine it is just the kid and helper, but these mums are very involved in their kids lives and will come too. And since they’re coming during lunchtime, I will have to cater to not only the kid but the mum (who eats only salad). Don’t get me wrong, the lady is very sweet and has a PhD to boot, but what I realised is I’m not terribly into hosting someone in my house ever so often, especially if I have to provide lunch.

To make matters more complicated, another kid’s mum asked me for a playdate. Now, I’m pretty sure Benji is not that into her kid, but she too lives in some isolated location where presumably the kids can’t just make friends in the playground. So I said okay, and then she picked the same date as the one I had arranged with J and finally I caved and just asked her to come as well. It was kind of weird because it was obvious we had planned something without her.

Actually, I really don’t want to have more than one kid because I already feel the size of my house is going to shock them in its smallness and two kids and two mommies seems a lot, not to mention I have to cater now for two more diverse tastebuds. Ugh.

Helper suggested that I just ask helpers to come (its much easier with just helpers as they will just hang out and eat the same kind of food …at the last playdate at J’s house, Benji ate the helper’s food because he likes Filipino food).  How can I do say send your helper instead of yourself though? The thing is that I think mums tend to like these kind of get-togethers because they can get some adult interaction but I already get adult interaction. I also realised that pretty much all my close friends don’t have kids, and now more so because the people in the uni are a whole generation younger, and I feel like the things we talk about are very varied and not necessary baby or expat life in Hong Kong related. And while I could do with a few mommy friends, it is also a bit of a minefield, because the only thing you have in common is your kids.

I’m kinda dreading it to be honest.

I also realised that I need to draw some lines. Such as no more than once a week and I can do once a month at most in my house. My kids are fortunate to have easy access to friends in the building so I don’t really need to set up these things. I feel the need to do them to encourage Benji’s friendship, but I really cannot keep hosting gatherings of mums and children, because actually I do have other things to do. So after this one, I’m just going to say I’m super busy and then hopefully they will get the hint and send kid with helper.