by rossanahead | Nov 12, 2011 | children, family, parenting, Rossana Llenado, woman
By Rossana L. Llenado
Are you a helicopter parent? Do you constantly hover over your children, fussing over their every move? Or are you a free-range parent? Do you allow your children to go off on their own whether it’s meeting up with friends at the mall or doing their schoolwork?
The other week, I attended a seminar at the Center for Family Ministries (CEFAM) at Ateneo de Manila University, one of the Philippines’ leading universities. During the seminar, there was a discussion of the various parenting styles employed by Filipinos. And I tell you that it was definitely an eye-opener.
Through the years, we’ve heard of different terms to describe different parenting styles. We’ve heard of the child-centered non-confrontational parenting, where the child is the center of the universe and the word “no” seems absent from the parents’ vocabulary. There is attachment parenting, where parents attempt to form intimate bonds with their children from birth. Some of the ideas that attachment parents espouse include breastfeeding, baby wearing, and sleeping close to their children or sometimes, co-sleeping. Positive parenting believes in the power of positive reinforcement, saying “do” instead of “don’t” and praising children for good behavior. And then there are those who choose to be uninvolved in their children’s affairs, relegating their parental duties and responsibilities to their own parents or to their kids’ school. Most recently, we met the Tiger Mom, who pushed her children to do their best through a stringent set of rules and schedules.
Basic Framework
I suppose that there are as many parenting styles as there are parents. But really, all these parenting styles originate from three basic frameworks, as described by development psychologist Diana Baumrind. These are the authoritarian, the authoritative, and the permissive.
The authoritarian parent is very familiar to those who grew up in the ‘60s and ‘70s. This is the classic “because I said so” type of parent. He has a strict set of rules that his children must obey no matter what. Rules are set in stone with no room for discussion. And not following those rules would lead to serious consequences, often involving a bit of spanking or some serious grounding.
The authoritarian parent sees the world in black and white. For him, there are no gray areas. Picture the typical patriarch oftentimes played by Ronaldo Valdez in countless Filipino movies and you’ll know what I’m talking about. Control is his main objective. He believes that if his children follow the rules, then they would grow up into good individuals.
The authoritarian parent is often seen as cold and unfeeling.
The authoritative parent is also fond of rules and limits, but he makes sure to explain why those restrictions came about in the first place. Children have more wiggle room because they are given the freedom to make their own choices—just so long as they stay within socially acceptable parameters of good behavior, of course.
But make no mistake about it, the authoritative parent has no qualms about saying the word “no.” However, he tells his children the many reasons behind his “no.” For him, giving a valid explanation will enable his children to understand and respect his decision. He does not want any rebels in his family.
The authoritative parent is perceived as warm toward his children but firm about enforcing rules and structure into their lives.
The permissive parent puts his children’s wants and needs first and foremost. Rules are thrown out the window. What’s important for the permissive parent is for his children to get exactly what they want.
The absence of rules gives children a sense of freedom, which unfortunately is something that they cannot handle at that young age. While the permissive parent is known to be very loving, he is often perceived as not being dependable. That’s because his decisions are not based on his own beliefs, but on what his children want, which can sometimes be erratic.
Most parents use a combination of these three parenting styles. Some are more authoritarian when their kids are young and then go on to be more authoritative as their kids get older.
At dinner the other night, I asked my kids to describe my parenting style. At first, they couldn’t decide. Actually, they sort of got into a big argument about it. One of my kids said that I’m too controlling, the other countered that I actually let them do whatever it is that they like. Another said that I don’t spend enough time with them, which was opposed by another who observed that I spend all my non-working hours with them. It was fun—and enlightening—to see them dissect my every move. Actually, it never occurred to me that they would be so observant about my comings and goings.
When I showed them reference materials from the seminar, they realized I was more authoritative than anything else. They realized too that I always give my reasons when I impose rules, and that seemed to go very well with them.
The Need to Define Ourselves
Whenever a new parenting term comes up, I’ve noticed, it is always met with much nitpicking and sometimes furious debates. We worry that we’re becoming helicopter parents, so we try to loosen our leash a little. We would secretly love to be Tiger Moms, but are afraid of what our neighbors would say.
We like putting labels and defining our styles because we want to put some logic into this whole parenting thing. Raising a happy, healthy, and confident child is probably one of the most difficult jobs in the universe. But of all the jobs we do in this world, it is the one thing that we want to do right.
This essay was first published in Asian Journal.
Photo by Charles Deluvio on Unsplash
by rossanahead | Oct 27, 2011 | children, family, Karen Galarpe, parenting
By Karen Galarpe
Looking over the chocolates on the shelves at the supermarket today, I smiled at seeing a bag of local cheap chocolates individually wrapped in white-and-orange stripes. “It’s still alive!” I thought to myself, as I picked up the little bag and added it to my basket. Memories of me in my grade school uniform unwrapping those little chocolates while in the school bus (more like a school jeep) on the way home came to me on the way to the cashier’s counter.
Then other grade school memories flashed: filing past displays of swimming fish at the Manila Aquarium (there was such a thing back in the 70s), eating my classmate’s baon back in Grade 4 (since she lived near our school, she had hot lunch delivered every lunch break, and oftentimes could not finish her meal), running around and going up and down the slide in the playground under the hot noonday sun, swimming with my father in a beach (me in T-shirt and shorts, he in maong pants), going from tomb to tomb at the cemetery with my cousins to collect candle wax on All Saints’ Day and rolling them up in huge hot balls, and traipsing down Session Road in Baguio with my family, all of us bundled up in sweaters and jackets.
Those were the days when we had nary a care in the world about traffic, debts, bad news, sickness, inflation, catastrophes, love life, and what have you. What mattered then was that precise moment, when we just did what we had to do and lived for that moment alone.
A few years ago, I interviewed Heinz Bulos, a money-smart dad and editor of a personal finance magazine, about family finances, and he said something that stuck to my mind: “Spend for experiences rather than stuff,” he said. “As dads, we have a tendency to lavish our kids with material things, partly out of guilt for not spending enough time with them and mostly because we just enjoy seeing the smiles on their faces. But their excitement is gone weeks or even days after getting something they want. So instead of buying more and more stuff, spend for experiences–trips to the zoo, the park, the beach–since memories of happy experiences last much longer than the fleeting enjoyment of toys and gadgets. Plus you get to spend quality time with them. More experiences, less stuff.”
What memories are you building with your children? I hope that someday, even when he is a grown man, my son will remember us going to Manila Zoo and Enchanted Kingdom, swimming in the clear waters of Boracay, eating sushi in Tokyo, watching cars drift in an exhibition game in Greenhills, plunking down on the floor of a bookstore at the mall to read a storybook together, or just sharing a piece of chocolate at home on a lazy summer afternoon.
by rossanahead | Oct 22, 2011 | children, family, parenting
By Julie Javellana-Santos
Last Sunday I watched the movie “Phantom of the Opera at the Royal Albert Hall” with my husband and teenaged kids. This was the opera’s 25th anniversary presentation filmed in its entirety for movie audiences and particularly for those left disappointed that the entire play was not in the movie of the same title released in 2004.
Well, I was one of those disappointed a few years back so I rushed over to see this movie. And I was pleasantly surprised when the movie featured, not just interviews by the composer and heads of the production, but the entire play as well!
Although the lyrics were a bit different, I and my husband could sing along to the music. We could even look forward to our respective favorite songs (as expected mine was All I Ask of You while his was Masquerade).
But I was even more surprised that my older daughter liked the play too. In fact, she was singing along with the lead actors and added that she had to have all the songs on her iPod’s playlist!
After the movie, I mentioned to my daughter that her dad and I were hooked on “Phantom of the Opera”. A friend had given us photocopies of the libretto once upon a time so we could sing along to the tapes (there were hardly any CDs then). This we did almost every night. And yes, that was around the time I was pregnant with her.
Of course she pooh-poohed the possible connection. After all, she said, it was only a few years back that she found out she liked “Phantom of the Opera”.
I distinctly remember, however, the words of my lamaze or natural childbirth teacher that a baby in the womb will recognize the music her mother used to play while pregnant. I then remembered having a cassette of classical music on my Walkman (the predecessor of the iPod) when I watched “Star Wars I” (the first prequel to George Lucas’ “Star Wars” trilogy) during the eighth month of my second pregnancy.
I had placed the earphones close to my tummy while playing this music because I was afraid my baby would be bothered with all the sound effects which accompanied the movie’s fight scenes.
When my baby was born, she would fall asleep to the same music and grew up singing, something she definitely did not get from me.
I am not much of a music buff, but I wanted my daughters to grow up otherwise. I guess I was able to make sure that they did so.
by rossanahead | Oct 16, 2011 | career, children, family, home, Jing Lejano, woman
By Jing Lejano
Sometimes, six days is just not enough to finish all the things that I need to do for the week.
Apart from my usual writing and editing chores, which I do in the comfort of my bedroom, there are interviews to be done and shoots to be attended, sometimes in places not so very near. There are bills to be paid, mail to be answered, errands to be done, and papers to be sorted out.
There are dishes to be cooked, which will go straight to the freezer for the kids to reheat during the week. There are clothes to have laundered, water to have delivered, grass to have cut, and the kitchen roof that needs to have some sealant plastered over because of the incessant rain. There is my bedroom to be cleaned, which I always never do, unless I absolutely have to.
There are the four kids to take care of and looked after—although these days, they don’t need much taking care of as they could very well take care of themselves. There is the granddaughter to embrace, cuddle, and play with. There are family and friends to have lunch with, to chat with, to joke with, to cry out your heart with, and to laugh with all your might.
There are books to be read, movies to be seen, and music to listen and dance to. There are words to be written, pictures to be painted, and baubles to be made. There are my nails to be done, my hair to be colored, and my body to be kneaded into something like soft spaghetti.
Six days just ain’t enough to do all that, and so, on some Sundays, I have tried to my very best to cheat. I’ve tried tinkering with my desktop to see if I can get a little work done. But no matter how hard I try, no matter how great my resolve, I never accomplish anything substantive. It’s like my brain is wired to shut down on Sundays. And so, after a couple of hours of trying, I give up. I give in to the sacred rule of Sunday to relax and get some rest.
The Lord rested on the seventh day, who am I to argue with that?!
by rossanahead | Oct 13, 2011 | children, family, grandparenting, parenting
By Julie Javellana-Santos
Two weeks ago, my brothers, sisters and I threw a big bash for my mother’s 75th birthday. It was not a surprise party since we took turns trying to convince her to come to the Philippines for the party with her American husband. Nevertheless, she was surprised, and so was her husband.
Talk about the party actually began in 2010 when my mom came to the Philippines for her annual Christmas vacation. “Why not have a 75th birthday party in September?” we asked her, pointing out that the fare was half what they usually cost at Christmastime.
One of my sisters already said she would spend for my mom’s fare. Still, it took some time for her to agree — only after my other sister in Singapore said she would fork out the fare of our new stepfather.
We prepared a buffet party for her complete with two lechons (roasted pigs) and several birthday cakes. Drinks were overflowing and the atmosphere was not dampened even by the threat of a typhoon.
There were even dance instructors (my mother’s request!) to help my mom and her guests boogie the night away. Her grandchildren also prepared an enjoyable song number for their lola, complete with specially mixed minus one music.
To cap it all, we helped my brother put together a special audio-visual presentation, complete with pictures of her before she was married and bloopers!
For several Sundays we got together to take videos for the AVP and so that the kids could practice. The party was not a surprise, but this was!
I hope that when I am 75 (or around that age anyway), my daughters will treat me the same way we did my mom. She was so touched with the attention we showered on her, throwing her a themed party and all. But surprisingly, her American husband was even more touched.
In America, when kids grow up they move out of the house and seldom visit their parents at all. Most actually send their parents to an old folks’ home. My mom met her new husband when she was vacationing in Florida ten years after my father died. He has several children who are all married and have their own families, whom he never sees.
Little wonder he was amazed that we get together a lot, and that my sisters even spent for his and my mom’s airline tickets. That’s something quite rare, almost unheard of, in America.
Unlike most people, I do not dread growing old. Children follow the example set by their parents, and if the party is any indication, my children will treasure me as much as we brothers and sisters do my mother.
by rossanahead | Sep 20, 2011 | children, family, grandparenting, home, Jing Lejano, parenting, woman
By Jing Lejano
For several Saturdays now, I’ve found myself by my lonesome at home. Actually, I have not been so lonely for my granddaughter S has kept me good company. We’ve been playing with her doll house, eating ice cream, and watching cartoon movies.
As for my own kids, well, they’re off with their own lives. My two kids in college, E and F, have classes on Saturdays. My second son S, who’s in high school, has Citizen’s Army Training on Saturday mornings. However, he only comes home around dinner time as he usually spends the afternoons with his friends. My youngest son K also has stuff to do on Saturdays. He’s either off to a classmate’s house finishing a project or at the mall hanging out with his friends.
This is new territory for me. My kids and I usually spend Saturdays at home. Well, at least some of them or most of them, but never not all of them. We usually get up late in the morning and I’ll cook something nice for lunch. This would be followed by marathon sessions in front of the tube, watching the latest batch of movies.
My kids and I, we’re movie freaks. The boys and I, we love action and sci-fi adventures, usually those involving some journey to a galaxy far away. My daughter E loves gory horror movies, usually those involving somebody getting hacked to a million pieces. Sometimes, I can get them to watch cheesy romantic comedies, but not too often. We would watch and we would eat, and every so often, somebody would make a joke or two. Of course, we’re not always together. On some Saturdays, each of us would be occupied with our own projects, but we’d still all be home.
I suppose I am at the beginning of what’s popularly called the empty nest syndrome. You have these wonderful babies, bring them up into well-behaved children, and hopefully raise them into individuals with passion and purpose.
Raising these four kids has been one hell of an adventure filled with comedy, drama, romance, and yes, even action—the very same things that we used to enjoy on the tube every Saturday. Looking at them, I could only hope that I did right by them. I could only hope that I was able to teach them something about living and loving as they go off into their own adventures.
