Discovering the Dutch

Monday Morning Coffee

23 September 2013
By

Hello everyone! Thank-you so much for visiting my blog! From what I gather, I’ve been making a bit of a stir among the Dutchies and the expats with my recent post about why Dutch kids are happy.

An an undercover introvert, I must confess that I’m both grateful for all the attention and feeling a bit overwhelmed. I apologize in advance for not responding to emails and messages and hopefully will get back to all of you soon. Nonetheless, I am really grateful that you guys took the time out to read what I have to write, reach out to me and I hope you continue coming by.

After a fun-filled, amazing time with our dearest friends, albeit over-scheduled weekend, my family and I are looking forward to a relatively quiet week. I have a sneaking suspicion that my temperamental toddler had enough of play-dates, impromptu dinners, and birthday parties. Perhaps his twenty minute inconsolable, tantrum this morning was a sign of no more missed naps.

 

photo(3)(Monday morning art theraphy to start the week)

Every Monday, I’m going to start sharing articles that I found worth reading. I’ve realized that although we’re inundated with so much information thanks to the world wide web, there are still tons of really helpful and “aha” articles worth re-posting. It’s just a matter of trying to organize and sort through all the information that’s a challenge (at least for me!) Perhaps doing a post once a week (Monday) can help.

And since happiness is contagious, I will try to start every Monday with articles that have made me smile, laugh, inspired and feel more connected to the world. So let’s start off with my favorites from last week:

What all parents really need to know.

Clever idea-  Forget Samsung and Apple. This is the future.

Where honesty will take you.

The 21 Habits of Supremely Happy People.

Lola’s Sint.

An Ode to Whole Foods.

Poignant read for any parent. Have some tissues ready.

 

Hope everyone has a good start on this first official Fall Monday!

The 8 Secrets of Dutch Kids, the Happiest Kids in the World

19 September 2013
By

According to Unicef’s most recent Child Well Being in Rich Countries survey, Dutch kids ranked as the happiest kids in the world. Dutch kids led the way in three out of the five categories, namely- material well being, educational well being, and behavior and risks.

happiest kids in the world

Unicef Germany isn’t the first research organization to come to this conclusion. Surveys conducted by Britain’s Child Poverty Action Group, the World Health Organization, and Unicef International have all reached unanimous conclusions as to the happy state of Dutch children.

Why exactly are Dutch kids the happiest in the world? As a seasoned expat mom living in stereotypical Dutch suburbia, it isn’t too hard for me to indulge in 8 secrets as to why I think Dutch kids are the happiest kids in the world.

 

1. Their Dutch parents are among the happiest people in the world.

It shouldn’t be surprising that the happiest kids in the world also have parents who are also among the happiest people in the world. According to  United Nation’s first World Happiness Report just released last week, the Netherlands ranks fourth as the happiest nation on earth. Happiness, measured as an indicator for social progress, was taken quite seriously. It’s definitely a no brainer that in general, happy parents equal happy kids.

 

2.  Their Dutch moms are genuinely happy.

happiest kids in the world

 

Dutch psychologist and journalist Ellen de Bruin has written a book titled “Dutch Women Don’t Get Depressed” illustrating the phenomenon. According to Ellen de Bruin, “Personal choice is key: in the Netherlands people are free to choose their life partners, their religion, their sexuality, we are free to use soft drugs here, we can pretty much say anything we like. The Netherlands is a very free country.”

Unlike their American counterparts and the rest of women in the world, glamour, hospitality and charm do not rank high in a Dutch woman’s priority list. De Bruin makes several sweeping generalizations about Dutch women, namely that Dutch women don’t know how to dress (mainly due to choosing practicality when biking everywhere), will send someone away if they arrive unexpectedly during dinner time, and are quite bossy to their men.

Perhaps a main factor why Dutch women are so happy is that they’ve found the perfect work-life balance. Dutch mommies are leading the way with the largest share of women working part time of all OECD countries, with 68% of Dutch women working only part time, roughly 25 hours a week.

In journalist Lisa Belkin’s Huffington Post article “What Mothers Really Want: To Opt Inbetween (Infographic)“, an overwhelming majority of moms would actually like to work part-time as an ideal balance between home and work.  According to Belkin, Hulafrog’s survey of 2,127 U.S. women with children at home under the age of 18 concluded that 65 percent would work part-time, only 9 percent would work full-time and 26 percent would stay home.

 

3. Their Dutch Dads play a more equal role in child-rearing by also having part-time jobs and being more hands on.

happiest kids in the world

A New York Times article “Working (Part-Time) in the 21st Century” highlights the Dutch culture of part-time work. By 1996 the Dutch government gave part-time employees equal status to that of full timers, paving the way for a more balanced work-life reality for its citizens. Like their female counterparts, more and more Dutch dads are squeezing in a full-time job in just four days and dedicating one day a week with their kids. “Papa dag” (Daddy day) has become not only part of the Dutch vocabulary, but becoming more of a standard norm as one in three men are also opting for part-time work. Dutch dads take their parenting seriously, playing a more balanced role in parenting.

 

4. Dutch kids feel no pressure to excel in school and have very little stress. They have no homework or have very little and thus have plenty of time to play after school.

Dutch elementary students under the age of ten usually do not have any homework and are simply encouraged to enjoy learning.Upon completion of primary school at the age of 12, Dutch pupils take a multiple choice CITO test which determines their relative intelligence level and heavily influences what corresponding high school they could attend.

Thus, Dutch high school students also do not face the notorious pressure of taking the SATs or ACTs or ever attaining academic excellence. There is, for the most part, no formal competitive university application process.

This happy relaxed attitude towards school for Dutch kids really hits home for me. I can still vividly recall the external and internal pressure to get into the “right college” from the moment I stepped into my first Freshman class in high school. To think that my son can simply attend school just for the sake of learning rather than focusing on his actual academic performance boggles my mind.

 

5. They can eat chocolate sprinkles, or slices of chocolate with butter on their white bread for breakfast. Every single morning. No kidding.

happiest kids in the world

I was actually tickled when the United Nation’s assessed that the Dutch kids ate healthy breakfasts.
A traditional Dutch breakfast, whether you are a child or an adult, actually often consists of a piece of white bread, butter and chocolate sprinkles. Their Dutch lunch, which often includes a variation of a slice of bread with a piece of cheese, or a thin slice of ham, doesn’t seem to be too much healthier either.

On a serious note, Unicef concluded that Dutch children and teens reported eating breakfast with their family on a regular basis. In no other country do children have breakfast with their families as regularly as they do in the Netherlands. Not only is eating breakfast associated with better performance in school and decreased behavioral problems, but eating breakfast daily as a family creates opportune time for family bonding and fostering individual identity and growth.

 

6. They have a right to express their own opinions.

Dutch children are the type that are both seen AND heard. From the moment they can formulate an opinion, Dutch children are given a voice and Dutch parents intently listen.

 

7. They have Oma day!

If you ever find yourself at the playground on a weekday, chances are you’re also going to run into a Dutch Oma (grandmother) with her grandchildren. A lot of Dutch grandmothers take great pride in helping out their children, playing a pivotal role in their grandchildrens lives. By having regular, once a week childcare services from Oma, moms and dads can better attain their life-work balance. Having Oma around is great for a child’s self-esteem.

 

8. The Dutch government gives families money every month to help with expenses.

We all know that raising children can be very expensive. According to USDA,  a child born in 2012 to age 18 will cost parents approximately $241,080. That’s a whole lot of money.

Despite the looming economic crisis and various cuts in subsidies on this side of the pond, Dutch families will still continue to get money from the Dutch government. Specifically, Dutch families will continue to receive a child allowance,  a child benefit stipend (an income-dependent allowance for the cost of children), the combination discount (a fiscal break for combining work and caring for children) and the childcare allowance. I don’t know about you, but I’m not one to complain if I’m given money to raise my child.

 

Obviously, our current reality doesn’t fit the Dutch model for a stereotypical family setup. My husband is an entrepreneur with no option for working part-time and I am a stay-at-home mom. We are, however, also quite happy because we’re living the life that we want to live. Living in the Netherlands has afforded us the luxury to live this more traditional model. And despite how exhausting it is for me to be chasing around my precocious toddler son all day long, I thank God everyday for having the opportunity to do so. Here’s to finding happiness in Dutchland!

 

P.S. Like the photos that you see you? Than you’ll probably enjoy my Instagram or come connect with me with me at my Facebook page. We’re a friendly bunch. I promise.

 

P.P.S. Care to learn about another secret of Dutch kids? Check out Postpartum Care and What We Can Learn from the Dutch

7 Reasons for Expat Families To Hire an Au Pair

16 September 2013
By
“I am in a season of my life right now where I feel bone tired almost all of the time. Ragged, how-am-I-going-to-make-it-to-the-end-of-the-day, eyes burning exhausted.” Steve Wiens

aupair
Everyone knows that it takes a village to raise a child. What about those families who aren’t part of a village? Who lack a strong social support network of relatives and friends willing to graciously babysit on a regular basis? My husband and I are one of those families. Our village is very small – it consists of only me, my husband and our 17 month old toddler son. This reality if often the case for many expat families.

What is an expat family to do? Many expat families i(and Dutch families too) n the Netherlands choose to hire an au pair. An au pair,  a French term meaning “at par or equal to“, is a young foreigner who provides live-in child care as part of a cultural exchange program. As glamorous as hiring an au pair sounds, our primary motivation is actually down-to-earth: we really need help.

Having an au pair is not for every expat family. Not only does it require an extra spare bedroom (a rare commodity in the Netherlands), it also means having to open your home and heart to a stranger from another culture for an entire year. When you hire an au pair, you are inviting someone to be a member of your own family.

Now that we’re 17 months into parenthood, my husband and I have decided to hire an au pair. We’re quite nervous about it but we’re confident that we’ve made the best decision given our toddler’s temperament and our current circumstances. Here are our  7 reasons for expat families to hire an au pair:

Top 7 Reasons for Expat Families to Hire an Au Pair:  

1. An Extra Pair of Hands at Home (Convenience)
It’s an incredibly convenient to have an extra caregiver living right under your roof. Parents of babies, toddlers and young children know intimately well that life is always full of adventure (sleepless nights, teething, run-of-the-mill colds, clingyness, tantrums, etc). For many first-time parents, simply getting out of the house becomes a 40 minute escapade. Having an au pair at home would help with the everyday challenges and chaos of parenthood. For pregnant moms, especially those in the later stages of pregnancy, or those suffering from morning sickness, having someone play with your toddler can make a world of a difference.

Another definite bonus for having an au pair is that your child stays in the comfort of your own home which can be especially useful during unfavorable weather conditions.

2. Childcare on A Schedule You Set (Flexibility)
In comparison to traditional child care such as crèche (day care), when you have an au pair, you can actually create a schedule that works best for you and your family. Keeping in mind that an au pair can only work 30 hours a week and no more than 8 hours a day, this lends to a lot greater flexibility to accommodate your family’s schedule. There is no added stress of picking up your child on time.

3. Assistance with Household duties
Having an au pair who can help with light household chores would definitely reel in the daily chaos. An au pair can, within reason, do tasks such as daily vacuuming, cleaning up the kitchen, managing the dishwasher (putting dirty dishes in and putting clean dishes and silverware back to the proper places), preparing simple meals, small grocery shopping, and laundry.  Please keep in mind that an au pair is not a substitute for a maid.

4. Opportunity for Cultural Exchange
Having someone from another culture come into your home can broaden your family’s world. It’s a great chance to also share your own values and perspective.

5. Affordability
The financial costs of an au pair are considerably less than other traditional forms of child care such as créche, a nanny and the occasional babysitter. In addition to providing room and board, an au pair receives pocket money of €300-340 a month for 30 hours of help. Other costs to keep in mind are the au pair agency fees,  Entry and Residence Procedure (TEV procedure) costs if the au pair is not an EU/EEA or Swiss citizen, health insurance, €275 euros Dutch language courses or personal development classes.

6. Personalized Attention and Care
While it’s hard to argue that the best care a child can receive is in the loving watch of his/her mother and hands-on father, having an au pair who can give your child her undivided attention can be very beneficial.

7. Time for to nurture yourself and your marriage
While our son is our utmost priority, we believe that it is really important to take care of ourselves and our marriage too. We would love to start going to the gym together again which we haven’t done for the past 17 months. We have only  gone out on dinner dates, just the two of us, less than five times since embarking on this journey towards parenthood.

In the long run, hiring an au pair is probably the best investment you can make for your over-all well being as an expat parent!

Click here for official information about Au Pairs in the Netherlands (IND website)

My Mom is a Foreigner, But Not To Me

12 September 2013
By

 

my-mom-is-foreigner

 

When I learned that Juliane Moore authored a children’s book titled “My Mom is a Foreigner, but Not to Me”, it hit a raw nerve. The book instantly made it to my Christmas Wish List.

I’m a mother to a 17 month old toddler son in a country that I have yet to call home. Ironically, I’m also the child of strangers from a different shore. My mother immigrated to the United States with three year old me and my one and a half little brother to join my Filipino-American father.  We were among the very last to leave the motherland, leaving behind the legacy of a poverty-stricken country and inheriting all the hopes, dreams and ambitions of several generations of my father’s family.

Living in the Netherlands has caused me to have an existential crisis (understatement). I grew up feeling and believing I was (am) American. I was merely a Filipino by convenience, mostly to appease my parents.  Home to me was the San Francisco Bay Area (San Francisco and Berkeley).

I watched countless hours of Sesame Street, The Little Prince, Fragglerock, Duck Tales, Gummy Bears, Punky Brewster, Full House, The Rugrats, Mr. Rogers, Doggie Howser, Family Matters, The Fresh Prince of Bell Air, The Golden Girls, Growing Pains, MacGyver, Boy Meets World, The Wonder Years, and ER. I was practically raised on TV, just like most American kids of my generation. Childhood was littered with memories of dodgeball, hopscotch, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, youth orchestra, and piano lessons.

I also grew up with parents that spoke English with a very heavy Filipino accent. My mother only cooked Filipino foods. Any celebration (birthday party, anniversary, graduation, holiday) came with the prerequisite  bottomless Filipino dishes of lumpia (spring rolls), pancit (noodles), adobo (chicken stew) and leche flan  (custard). I had to call all the adults “auntie” and “uncle” regardless of whether, or not they were actually related to us.

My brothers and I became obnoxious Americanized Filipino kids to the disdain of our ultra conservative, traditional Filipino parents. We were quite good at imitating their accent, of making sweeping generalizations about the Philippines colored by the experiences of our parents, and begged them to wake up to the reality that they were raising their kids in the United States, not in the Philippines. Eventually, my adolescent and adoltestant years gave me the freedom to pick and choose aspects of Filipino culture that appealed to my American sensibilities. I embraced being Filipino-American.

Yet, when I went to join my now-Dutch husband in the Netherlands, I was slapped for the first time with racist overtures and derogatory prejudices. I was ostracized for being different. This was not imagined. My race and subsequent judgements about my race established their perception of me and led to many colorful interactions. My San Francisco bubbled popped.

There were so many instances when I could feel people’s discomfort the moment I open my mouth to speak, their ears betraying what their eyes were showing them. Others would complement just how well I spoke English and sounded like an American. Polite questions of “where do you come from” would be met with my standard reply, followed by the more intrusive question, “where do you really come from”.

Perhaps part of my heightened sensitivity to being a foreign mom in the Netherlands is that my beautiful half-Dutch son is officially categorized by the local Dutch municipality as an Allochtoon. My sweet, sweet boy born in Utrecht with a Dutch father who dearly loves him is labeled as “originating from another country“. Oh Holland, dear Holland, please love him as one of your very own because I promise you he will one day make you very proud.

More than once has my parenting skills, especially because I carried my baby, been described as being reminiscent to African mothers in the bush. I don’t know whether or not they were insulting me, or giving me a genuine compliment.  Remaining optimistic, I guess they were just mesmerized by the fact that my baby rarely cried and possibly in awe of my mothering skills. After all, Dr. Harvey Karp (Happiest Baby on the Block) asserts that in traditional cultures such as those in Africa and in Bali that practiced baby-carrying, colic doesn’t exist. Mental note: “Don’t you worry your pretty little mind; people throw rocks at things that shine …”

Though as challenging as it is being a mother from a different shore, I also love how living in the Netherlands has opened up my world to wonderful people all around the world – Singapore, South Africa, Italy, Australia, India, Indonesia, the Philippines, Pakistan, Portugal, Turkey, Morocco, Greece, Poland, England, Belgium, Germany, Austria, Russia, Latvia, Sweden, Nigeria, and Switzerland. Let’s also not forget about the amazing Dutch who get me and those that don’t really but still open their heart to my foreign ways.

We are still on the fence of truly embracing the quintessential Dutch tradition of Sinterklaas. We rarely ever eat potatoes, a typical component of a Dutch dinner. There is no Apple stroop and Dutch hagelslag (chocolate sprinkles) in our cabinets. Forget about Fristi and Chocomel ever finding its way into our fridge. And my blossoming foodie toddler refuses to eat bread, an essential staple of the standard Dutch breakfast and lunch.

I cannot wait to read “My Mom is a Foreigner, but Not to Me” to my son. And the longer we stay in the Netherlands, the higher the chances of me and him possibly facing cross-cultural battles. But that’s a long way away.

As far as my 17 month old toddler son is concerned, I’m his mommy. I sing to him all the songs I grew up with– namely, You Are My Sunshine, Baby Baluga, Head Shoulders Knees and Toes, The Wheels on the Bus, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and the Itsy Bitsy Spider. I speak to him exclusively in English, my native tongue. He’ll grow up knowing that I’m a proud daughter of California and will always bleed blue and gold. He has warm meals three times a day. I plan to teach him to be mindful of all his blessings, counting them like stars in the sky. At the right moments, I’ll tell him that “I love to watch you play“. And I pray that he will always know and feel that he is  loved.

I hope to teach him mindfulness of others. I want to teach him to really listen to other people’s stories. I want to relish in the wonder that’s reflected in my son’s eyes as he discovers the world  around him. I’m looking forward to re-discovering the Netherlands, one seen from the eyes of a more patient, forgiving and understanding mother.

Thus begins a new chapter in my life – Finding Dutchland.

 

(Semi)Wordless Wednesday: Gentle Parenting

4 September 2013
By

junior-working

Imaginary conversation in my head with Bram Junior 5 years from now

Bram Junior: “Mommy, did I cry a lot when I was a baby?”

Me: “You rarely cried as a baby darling.”

Bram Junior: “Why?”

Me: “Because you had no reason to cry. You were always held.”

Bram Junior: “Really?

Me: “Yes. I stayed home so I can hold you all day long. And when your daddy came home from work, he held you too.”

Battle Hymn of A Spirited Mom

3 September 2013
By

 

I was that kind of mother-to-be. The kind who had bought and read all the top rated 20 baby and pregnancy books on Amazon. I invested more time and energy in preparing for the arrival of my baby then I did writing my master’s thesis. Okay, to be perfectly honest, I probably could have completed a PhD in the latest baby gadget trends. I literally dedicated all my time to being the absolute best mother I could be to my little prince.

 

 RB1_130image by Tanja de Maesschalk

 

I was convinced that all those frazzled mothers were simply unprepared for the challenges of a newborn, or utterly lazy, or perhaps just downright incompetent. I smirked at all the other seemingly naïve parents to be around me who seemed completely out of the loop about the latest baby trends, less alone the proven granted sleep techniques.

 

By the time I was seven months pregnant, we had already purchased most of Babble’s 100 baby essentials and had just completed our non-Ikea nursery. The ones that we didn’t purchase were simply because the products didn’t make the cut under my meticulous scrutiny. I was only going to buy the absolute best for my little man (best defined as what all the other in-the-know parents were raving about). Almost everything had to be certified organic if I could get my hands on it. No polyester clothing would ever touch my baby–he would only sleep in 100% cotton, or organic merino wool.

 

I had all these aspirations too, utterly convinced that since I was going to be a stay-at-home mom, I’d have plenty of time to blog. I was counting on the infamous sleepy newborn phase to do my writing. My sweet baby would be my muse and I would have all the energy in the world because I was high on life. I wasn’t going to ride the current parenting trend of dis-shelved and self-deprecating mothers parading parenting fails. Nope. I was going to be a mommy guru ready to school mommy-to-be’s and failing moms on the secret of being a perfect parent.

 

In hindsight, I was trying to over-compensate for what was glaringly missing in my life – an extended family living close by. I have no mother, no grandmother, no sisters, no aunts around. I thought that by being overly prepared, I would have motherhood down to perfection and I wouldn’t notice such a gaping void in my life. I may not have a mother, grandmother, sister or aunt to guide me, but I assured myself that I did have baby manuals, twenty or so odd parenting books that guaranteed parenting bliss and a happy baby. Not to forget to mention, all the fabulous baby gear that would make any other neurotic first-time pregnant mom squeal with absolute delight.

       RB1_120image by Tanja de Maesschalk

 

Armed with Gina Ford’s The Contented Little Baby Book and Dr. Harvey Karp’s The Happiest Baby on the Block, I was going to be the baby whisperer. These two books were my holy grail to parenting, a perfect hybrid of attachment/gentle/intuned parenting and babywise parenting. I even had two copies of each book, one in print and one digital. Never mind that I’ve never taken care of, or even been around a newborn before.  I would be the chic baby wearing, luxury stroller pushing mommy who had an exclusively breastfed baby that slept through the night, never experienced colic, was potty-trained by nine months and who brought absolute joy to who ever would meet him. What I should have read was the CTFD Method instead.

 

Then came Junior. Four weeks early to be exact. I was barely done packing my hospital suitcase and definitely had not yet purchased the perfect push outfit.  The saying “If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans” could never have been truer at that moment.  Our birth experience was a physically traumatic, yet blissful delivery (birthstory is a future post).

BramNewborn_098image by Tanja de Maesschalk

 

The first three months passed by like a dream. We initially had struggles with breastfeeding, but with the help of some amazing angels (our maternity nurse, two lactation consultants, and mommy friends) and sheer determination, I was able to exclusively breastfeed. So what if he needed to be breastfed for 5-6 consecutive hours a day and wasn’t really sleeping all through the night? We had a happy, healthy baby  and for now, our little family was complete.

 

Starting at four months old, our precious baby decided that sleep was over-rated. He wasn’t the best sleeper to begin with, but this time around, his sleep pattern was erratic. For the next eight months, I was barely hanging on two to three hours of consecutive sleep.  He would wake up to nurse on average 12-15 times from the moment we put him down to bed at 7:00 pm till at 7:00 am. I was absolutely sure that I wasn’t being delusional because I kept a meticulous record of all his night wakings thanks to the Total Baby iphone app.

 

Junior was, in hindsight, actually quite difficult from the very beginning. The kind that was remarkably alert from the moment he was born. The kind that slept for a five hour stretch ONCE every three months. The kind that had this incessant need to breastfeed for hours on end.  The kind that refused to be put down in his crib, bassinet or stroller. The kind that needed to be constantly held regardless of whether he was awake or sleeping. The kind that couldn’t be alone even for just a mere second. The kind that would scream his head off when anyone but me or my husband held him. The kind that needed to be danced to sleep for hours until he would finally fall asleep…only to wake up twenty minutes later. The kind that needed to be held. Always. The kind that demanded every single piece of you and so much more when you think you have nothing left.

 

BramNewborn_086image by Tanja de Maesschalk

 

Well intentioned relatives, friends, acquaintances, and strangers would suggest: Swaddle. Unswaddle. Use white noise. Put him in the most quiet, serene spot in your home. Stop breastfeeding. Start formula. Introduce solids. Hang up black out curtains. Put him down.  Pick him up and baby carry. Let him cry it out.  Remember that he mirrors how you feel. Take him outside every single day. Co-sleep. Don’t co-sleep. Put him down earlier. Put him down later. Establish a consistent schedule.

 

I appreciated each and every single one of their advice and I tried my best to listen very carefully. I tried some of their suggestions and others I simply nodded my head to be polite, or when I wasn’t particularly at my very best that day, directly told them that what they were suggesting went against my primal instincts as a mother. I brought him to various general practitioners, pediatricians, and even had his head examined by a radiologist (there was another potential medical reason for it), dabbled into a bit of holistic medicine (cranial-sacral therapy), requested personal prayers from a Catholic priest and asked my devote Muslim friend to say a prayer for our family Insha’Allah. My husband and I only had each other and we knew in our heart of hearts that we couldn’t continue going on like this.

 

Eventually he did fall asleep for an hour or so during the day. I was quick to rejoice “Halleluiah, Praise the Lord! We finally did something right.” It didn’t take me long though to discover that he also developed a 6th sense- the type that knew exactly whether, or not I was by his side regardless of whether or not he was in REM or non-REM sleep. Getting him back to sleep was nearly impossible as he was almost always rejuvenated from his cat-nap and more than eager to explore the world around him. Hence began another not-so-glamorous mothering duty, a prisoner in my own bed, co-existing of sorts while he naps or goes down to bed for the day and me, resigned to find solace on the world wide web (phone-calls would wake him up of course).

 

The fabulous “aha” parenting moment came soon enough. My google ninja skills brought me straight to Dr. Sear’s 12 Features of a High Needs Baby : intense, hyperactive, draining, feeds frequently, demanding, awakens frequently, unsatisfied, unpredictable, super-sensitive, can’t put baby down, not a self-soother, and separation sensitive. Junior was the poster-child for a high needs baby. When I finished reading his article, a flood of relief overwhelmed me. So we weren’t the only parents to experience this after all. His behavior wasn’t a reflection of my failure as a first-time mother, or more accurately, lack of parenting skills. We weren’t alone.

BramNewborn_111image by Tanja de Maesschalk

 

I looked down at my sleeping son, took a deep breath, and cried until my tears washed my soul clean again. I then started to learn how to cope with my high needs baby. All I needed to do was love him, love him the way he needed to be loved. I was quickly baptized into another world of parenting, the gentler kind that encourages nurturing his sprit, of molding parenting approaches and family life based on the child’s needs and wants, and of simply slowing down and enjoying the gift of an ordinary day with my son.

 

The turning-point came eight months into our ordeal, right around his first birthday and when we moved into our new home in the middle of no where. He started sleeping continuously through the night, from 7:00 pm (ideally) till 6:30 am without waking up in the middle of the night. We are currently in the midst of self-weaning, only having to comfort nurse once or twice during his afternoon naps and when he goes to bed.

 

I am slowly, but surely waking up from this experience and emboldened with a new set of mommy skills. I found an overflowing amount of patience I never imagined I had. I am more compassionate. I am less quick to judge perceived parental failures. I am more inclined to be kind rather than be right. I am less inclined to boast about my parental successes or attribute any of my son’s accomplishments and milestones as a reflection of my parenting. I am in the process of healing. I am, overall, happier. And perhaps the greatest blessing of all with having a high needs-baby was that my little prince gave me the gift of grace in return.

 

I am incredibly empathetic to the mom who confides in me that she isn’t sleeping much and I well up with tears too, still fresh from the battle wounds of severe sleep deprivation. Now that my own fog is lifting (sleep deprivation does that to you), I aspire to write more about my experiences. I hope too that my blog can serve as a useful resource for struggling mamas, the kind that’s awake at 3am in the morning in need of some serious uplifting, a gentle reminder that she is not alone, that this too shall pass.

 

 

 

Uitmarkt: Start of the Cultural Season in the Netherlands

2 September 2013
By

IMG_0542 What better way to spend the last weekend of an unbelievable gorgeous Dutch summer then to head over to the Uitmarkt in Amsterdam. The Uitmarkt is the national opening of the cultural season and the largest cultural festival in the Netherlands. Best of all it’s free (for now).

 

This year, the Uitmarkt took place at Museumplein and Leidseplein.

 

With it being a wonderful sunny day, albeit the occasional yet brief summer downpours here and there, we headed off to Museumplein. After all, what better way to embrace art than at the heart of it all? Museumplein is the square surrounded by Amsterdam’s three major museums-the Rijksmuseum, the Van Gogh Museum and the Stedelijk Museum-as well as the Concertgebouw, Amsterdam’s premier concert hall. It’s also where the touristy, but classic IAmsterdam sign stands.

 

There was also an Uitmarkt Junior taking place at De Krakeling Youth Theatre. With summer basically being over and the impending gloomy Dutch fall and winter right around the corner, I opted for the fresh green and open air of Museumplein. Being a seasoned expat in the Netherlands, I’ve learned to never take a day with sunshine for granted. It’s part of my survival strategy for making it this long in the Low Countries and a positive sign that I’ve been ingeburgered (assimilated) into Dutch culture.

 

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I also reasoned that my almost 17 month old toddler wouldn’t really know the difference anyway. I reckoned that there would be enough interesting things around to keep him in awe.

 

Attending the Uitmarkt was possibly one of the best things my son and I did together. We got out of our comfort zone, straying away from the standard go to places (Amersfoort zoo, Ballorig, local playground, local petting zoo) and actually started to explore more of what this country has to offer. I was actually quite impressed. I may no longer be in San Francisco, but I am living in the Netherlands, a vibrant Northern European country that has so much to offer and a short flight or train ride away to the rest of the Old World.

 

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Being at the Uitmarkt reminded me of how much I loved Amsterdam. There’s a special energy that I get when ever I wander around. I may not be a singer, dancer, musician or performer, but I am an aspiring writer. Writing, after all, is an art. And what better way to start my blogging journey than to attend the Uitmarkt, an event that marks the beginning of another season of art appreciation, celebrating art in all forms, even from wannabe like me.

 

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Not to forget to mention that the Uitmarkt was a great opportunity to do some people watching. There were some very stylish parents and their equally chic offspring!

 

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How adorable was this father and son pair?

 

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Or this chic mother-daughter duo?

 

I wasn’t the only one feeling alive and mesmerized from all the art around me. I loved seeing the wonder in my son’s eyes, the look of pure amusement as his eyes wandered around the organized chaos happening around him.

 

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Not everything amused him though. Like his mother, he wears his heart on his sleeves.

 

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Look at that expression on his face! I don’t think he’s quite fond of Dummies.

 

Than it hit me. My almost 17 month old was strutting around, exploring, investigating and examining all the organized chaos around him. He wasn’t really a baby anymore, at least not when he chooses not to be. He was surely, but steadily growing into a little boy.

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As the day was drawing to a close, we headed over to the Rijksmuseum garden with a walkable fountain. Initially, I had planned on gently guiding Junior around the fountain, carefully keeping him entertained but securely dry. Obviously, I’m at novice at this mothering gig because in a couple of second my toddler got soaking wet. Grateful that it was one of those lucky days that I did manage to pack an extra set of clothes, I just let him be. There were also tons of laughter from bystanders as he definitely gave them a good show.

 

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” This world is but a canvas to our imagination.” Henry David Thoreau 

 

Inspired by the richness of art and culture all around me, I am going to start a personal quest. Once a month for the next 12 months,  Junior and I will try to visit child-friendly museum/exhibition around the Netherlands.  I hope you join us!

 

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(We had an extra romper, shirt, pair of pants, jacket….but no extra pair of socks or shoes. Definite learning lesson for the future)

Dutch Ingenuity. Restroom & Toilet Revisited.

1 September 2013
By

 

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One of the most unpleasant adjustments I had to make in the Netherlands was becoming accustomed to the dreaded Water Closet, more commonly referred to by Americans as the restroom.

 

Taking the term “Water Closet” literally, the standard Dutch restroom has been reduced to nothing more than a “standing-room only” space outfitted with a toilet. A claustrophobic’s real world nightmare, one has to cleverly maneuver themselves inside, close the door, adjust their clothing, and appropriately decide the most comfortable position for their limbs.

 

With my comparatively miniature 5″1 frame, I cannot help but wonder at times how adult-size Dutch people (many towering well above 6″ feet) manage to get themselves inside the cupboard-like room. With such long legs, I can only guess that the most comfortable position for these giants is having their knees strategically pressed against the door. Granted, the Dutch have only been recently declared as the tallest people in the world and thus such inconveniences may not have been realized until now.

 

Arguably the most alarming feature of a Water Closet is the infamous Dutch toilet bowl. Dutch engineers have designed the bowl itself to contain a plateau set well above the normal water level. To say the least, one must be very comfortable with themselves and all their excrements on the display shelf. Why the Dutch would have such a perverse desire to examine or witness their waste remains a mystery. Perhaps it is the lingering Dutch sentiment of having reclaimed the land from the sea that extends towards this toilet philosophy. By having a plateau set above the water level and having the option of controlling the amount of water to be flushed, the environment might provide temporary comfort in assuring the Dutch that they are still masters of the sea.

 

Once a person has completed his/her business, he/she is confronted with the new challenge of cleaning up one’s own mess. Having just described the Dutch toilet with its unashamed plateau showcasing one’s most recent accomplishment, one can only imagine the new task that must, with all politeness, be dealt with. Never fear! The Dutch have ingeniously provided a compulsory toilet brush and chemical laden toilet cleaner appropriately within reach.

 

Newcomers may benefit from such an embarrassment with this Insider’s tip:

First line the plateau with toilet paper and tactically aim one’s most recent stomach contents onto it. A single flush will hopefully leave no shameful streaks and unnecessary expenditure of one’s energy and the costs of the toiler cleaner.

 

Never loosing the opportunity to exercise Dutch thrift, most would also have the opportunity of witnessing Dutch hydraulic ingenuity first hand. They can either choose a smaller button to flush tiny amount of water, or a larger button promising a more robust flush to rid unwanted waste. Water of course isn’t free so one is cautioned to use water as sparingly as possible and only when absolutely necessary.

 

Last but not least, being in such a confined space, a display shelf, and lack of an electronic ventilation switch, one may also have to endure a robust, unpleasant aromatic setting. For those who do not enjoy the pervasive odor, they may be fortunate enough to find an air purifier. I highly recommend AmbiPur Puresse, an air fresher that provides relief and is also hypo allergenic.

 

After having mastered the Dutch Water Closet and all its glory, one can then truly leave with a sense of being productive for the day.

 

Hello World, I’m a Stay-At-Home Mom

1 September 2013
By

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“I remember you! You’re that brain that studied nuclear science at MIT right?” said an over enthusiastic, slightly inebriated acquaintance at a mutual friend’s wedding.

 

“I studied Molecular Biology at Berkeley,” I replied.

 

“What are you doing now?” he inquired.

 

“I’m a stay-at-home mom, ” I said as a knot started forming in the pit of my stomach.

 

“Are you kidding me?” he quipped back with a mixture of pure amusement and shock on his face.

 

I shook my head no and to add fuel to the fire of his amusement, I also blurted out, “And I have a master’s degree in Health Economics with distinction that I’ve never had to use.”

 

When in the midst of polite conversation at any social function, sooner or later the infamous “What are you doing with your life” question arises. Eventually, out of concern (whether genuine, feigned and/or condescending), someone feels compelled to inform me of what could be the biggest mistake of my life and that I really should be working for my own personal development.

 

I graciously smile and give them my standard response, “I’m perfectly fine thank-you very much. I’m beyond the point of tired, but I am grateful to have the opportunity to simply take care of my son all day long and try my best to enjoy all the fleeting moments of his young life. He’s only a baby once after all.”

 

Later that night, still on that special high that one gets when watching two beautiful souls professing everlasting marital love, I serendipitously stumble upon 27 year old Ellen Huerta’s Why I Left Google.

 

Though I’m obviously not as successful as she is,  her story nonetheless deeply resonated inside of me. As the first-born child of immigrant Filipino parents, my self-worth was inextricably tied to my visible accomplishments, the kind that merited parental bragging rights and parties to celebrate just how oh-so-wonderful I was.

 

Adele Barlow basically sums up my childhood experience when she eloquently writes in a follow up  commentary to Huerta’s article:
“The status-conscious parent who has worked their whole life to send their kids to the ‘right’ schools will be the toughest on their offspring when said offspring decides to leave the ‘right’ job for a future much harder for said parent to position to judgmental, equally status-conscious friends.”

 

Starting at the age of ten, a light bulb turned on and I discovered the secret to excelling in school. I became obsessed with getting straight A’s. What I was really searching for was the external validation from my parents, in particular that of my mother who would, hands down, put any self-proclaimed tiger mommy to shame. Out of respect for her, I will refrain from going into further detail, but I can assure you that I could potentially make any psychologist earn a decent upper middle-class income just to sort me out.

 

About six years ago,  I decided to follow my now Dutch husband back to his home country the Netherlands. Taking a leap of faith, I somehow mustered the courage to follow my bliss rather than the pre-constructed future my parents concocted.  I was going through a quarter-life crisis, unsure, insecure and quite regretful about all the choices I made up to that point. What life was I really living? Why was it so important what other people thought of me?

 

There in front of me was this amazingly gorgeous kind-hearted, goofy Dutch foreign exchange student completely smitten with me. It would be an understatement to say that the feelings were mutual.  I was one of the lucky few who literally had my future husband dropped on my doorstep.  I decided to take a leap of faith and live in a country I never had any interest in visiting, less alone reside in because I wanted to give the love-of-my-life a solid chance. I also knew that I would have been deeply unhappy if I hadn’t chosen love.

 

The answer to the original question from the well-meaning acquaintance should have been a resounding, “Yes, I’m currently a stay-at-home mom to my 16 month old bundle of joy. I’m also his teacher, cook, domestic help, nurse, psychologist, therapist, personal assistant  and best of all, partner in crime in this crazy adventure called life. ”

 

I’m all too familiar with the bitter sweet passage of time. As my first born baby rushes through milestones, I want to be able to be able to record each and every single one and store each fleeing moment safely in my heart.

 

I’m also working on better understanding and practicing the third metric of success that emphasizes a life well lived was rather more important than having the life others expect me to live. I’m also embracing gentle parenting, grasping the bittersweet reality that my son’s childhood only happens once and I shouldn’t rush him.

 

Through all of my life’s ups and downs,  there’s this one constant that has always stayed with me–my writing. I have so much I want to write about, to share with the world about what I’ve learned, what I’m still struggling with and just how fabulous my 16 month old really is.  Thus starts my official other status as a mommy blogger.  Please bear with me though as I do the majority of my writing when my baby’s asleep and quite a bit rusty just having woken up from a blogging hiatus of more than two years. I hope you enjoy what you read here!

My Little Gourmand: Eating with Joy

1 September 2013
By

 

The original version of this post was actually a Facebook update on my personal account. Happy Reading!

 

 

My beautiful, sweet boy,

 

Thank-you for all the fleeting moments that fill up my heart every single day. Some parents (understandably so) are proud of certain accomplishments such as sleeping through the night, early talking, walking, counting, singing, etc. You, our dear boy, can EAT and it fills our hearts with so much joy.

 

You especially LOVE fish (impressively eating a Dutch haring sandwich and finishing off an entire grilled sea bass by 10 months old), corn on the cob, fresh pastas, various cheeses, peas, all kinds of yoghurt, string beans, rice, squash, cherry tomatoes, avocado, broccoli, cauliflower, brussels sprouts, red bell peppers, and zucchini. You’ll also happily eat pinakbet (Filipino vegetable stew), bulalo (Filipino beef marrow stew) and chicken/pork adobo (Filipino national dish) with a healthy portion, or two of rice. You’re always open to having some strawberry or butternut squash risotto, an extra helping of ragu spaghetti and of course, lasagne.

 

Best of all, you’re willing to try anything new. Your adventurous and healthy eating could be attributed to baby led weaning, or not. It could simply be because your part Filipino that your love for eating is a genetic predisposition. Thank-you for giving us (and others around) the simple pleasure of watching you eat to your heart’s delight.

 

Almost 17 months, weighing 30lbs and growing out of size 24 month clothing. And if you happen to change and no longer our precocious gourmand who love’s to ea, or want to eat as much as you do now, that’s okay too. We’ll roll with the punches because we’re your parents. We will always love you!

 

Love,

Mommy