Monthly Archives: March 2014

Are We Raising Entitled Children?

ImageGeneration “E”

Last month the Editor of Family & Life Magazine, Singapore asked me to write an article about families who raise entitled children. I immediately winced at the thought of writing this article that described so many children I have come into contact with over the past few years. I worried about the backlash I would receive from fellow parents for writing this article. Fortunately, I remembered most of us, including me at times only have the capacity for minimal self-reflection anyway. So my social life would probably remain intact. Sadly, I also realized I was regarding my literary fan base a bit too much in believing that everyone in town was waiting for my articles to arrive in their mailbox. Basically that group consists of my mom and occasionally my husband.

My first step in the writing process was to define what this term actually meant, because what did I know about rising generation “E?” I hoped nothing, but as I researched and began writing; tiny seeds of doubt crept into my mind.  According to World Book Dictionary, an entitled person is one who has a right to ask for or get something. He or she is a privileged individual. The important part of this definition is the word “right.” There is no concept or understanding that the “right” is earned.

As I wrote I began to think about my sons and what we were doing right and wrong in relation to this topic. Upon moving to Singapore we consciously chose not employ a helper; for those of you unfamiliar a helper is mainly Singaporean term for a  full time live-in employee who cooks, cleans, shops for groceries, assists with the children, helps run the home and the old standby other duties as assigned.  Employing fulltime house staff is quite a popular and an affordable option in Singapore especially for Ex-Pat families like ours.

My choice not to have a helper has been a source of much conversation. We have been questioned by everyone including our move coordinator, our friends, clerks, teachers, employers and even a few uncle taxi cab drivers about our reasons for not having a helper. There are many reasons, but basically, it comes down to three things: I do not work fulltime and do not feel it is necessary, my husband and I enjoy our privacy and we believe our family should function as a team which includes our children’s  daily help with chores and running our home.  While having a helper is a positive experience for many families it is simply our choice to do without.  I will admit to having a housekeeper come2x a month. Mainly to handle the marble floors that I can’t seem to keep clean, but the kids are only slightly aware she comes because she arrives and leaves during the school day. But I have heard the kids comment on how nicely she organizes their stuffed animals and they choose to sleep on top of the covers for a few nights so as not to mess up her work.

Today, like every afternoon I stand at the bus stop with the other mums and helpers while I wait for my boys to get off the school bus from the American School. And every day I watch the middle school girl get off the bus and hurl her backpack at her helper to carry and then the tween proceeds to walk 3 paces ahead of her helper and routinely forgets a basic consideration like holding the door for the helper. Did I mention the helper is attempting to grab the coded door while balancing the backpack with the younger sibling strapped to her in a handmade baby Bjorn and a grocery sack from Cold Storage in the other hand? Disgusting huh. Yes, that makes me feel smug in both my parenting abilities and my decision not to employ a helper.  My angels rush over to open the door for the helper and of course they carry their own bags. I also feel like throttling the girl and her parent….but I digress.

My smugness however, is short lived. Once we arrive home I ask my 10 year old to get some trash bags and empty all of the tiny trash cans in the house. He does it but with a sour look on his face and he dramatically wipes his brow mentioning how hot it is in Singapore. I’d call that Strike 1 in parenting that day. A few minutes later my 8 year old asks me if he needs to straighten his room before going downstairs to play with his condo friends. I respond the way I do every day when he asks me this same question “Yes, of course. “He grimaces and asks when the housekeeper is coming back. Strike 2 for my parenting.  That afternoon there were many additional strikes on my parenting record but there is always tomorrow and a chance to get a homerun.

Writing this article reminded me of some fundamental things Dwayne and I are doing well and was pleased by our efforts. It also shined an excruciatingly bright spotlight on what we were doing wrong as parents. There is no manual about how to raise my sons, and as parents we are a work in progress and some days we are better at it than others.

*Check out my article on page 20 about rising generation “E” There are tips and interesting facts. Just paste in your browser and the issue will be immediately available. 

file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/reenieschust/My%20Documents/Downloads/FamilyAndLife-Issue_6-Mar2014%20(1).pdf

Food for Thought

Collin tasting noodles at hawker

Collin enjoying his Prawns & noodles at Whampoa Market

Today, I treated my sons to a rare lunch at McDonalds. It reminded of our first weeks in Singapore and one of our least stellar lunches out on the town.

The first Saturday living here, our move coordinator, Sandra picked up my family for an afternoon of sightseeing.  She had arranged for a large van and driver to ferry us around for the day. We piled in the van and she suggested we take in some famous sights in Singapore like Merlion Park, Marina Bay Sands Hotel & Casino, or the Botanical Gardens. My husband told her we could sightsee on our own, but today we would like to go shopping. We had made the decision not to get a car while living in SG. This was our opportunity to shop with someone who knew where to find the best bargains. Sandra was puzzled at our request but dutifully took us all over the city and we filled the van with 3 small desks, a coffee pot and toaster and steaks from an Australian butcher shop and several other must haves.

At Lunch time we took a break and Sandra asked us where we wanted to eat. We told her to take us somewhere local and yummy. She asked if the kids would be ok eating traditional food. “Well of course” we boldly responded.  I’ve always prided myself on raising children who eat whatever is on their plates (with a few exceptions). It’s a parenting victory that my husband and I take full credit for. When we moved to Singapore we planned to fully embrace our new country which included food.

Sandra took us to one of the more famous chicken rice restaurants in Singapore, Boon Tong Kee on East Coast Road. For those unfamiliar with the local dish it is called Chicken rice not chicken & rice. The chicken is served on a bed of white rice with cucumbers and other vegetables nestled in between. Sandra ordered bamboo shoots and bean curd as a side.

When the waiter delivered the chicken rice to the table my husband dished healthy portions on the boy’s plates. They sat wordlessly staring at the food. Our host showed us how you could mix the fresh ginger and soy sauce to make a lovely dipping sauce. The boys looked from me to my husband hoping one of us would give them a pass not to eat. Much to their dismay they received the death stare from both parents which meant you had better eat now. My son Jack took a bite the size of a gnat and began gagging and quickly spit the food it into a napkin. Aaron, my shy son just stared at the plate while giant tears welled up in his eyes. My eldest son Collin ate a piece and then grabbed his water and guzzled it down and his face turned crimson as he realized he had finished his entire water. The meal did not get any better, somehow the boys managed to eat enough to appease their parents. Sandra was kind and offered to take them somewhere else to eat. Of course we refused. She felt so badly for them that she made a special stop and bought each of them a pastry at one of the many street bakeries.

At home we replayed the day and looked at our purchases and lamented about the chicken disaster. We were trying to figure out what had happened that afternoon. I mean, we are the parents whose kids actually eat casseroles and brussel sprouts, I kind of felt bad for our tough stance on the whole chicken debacle.  I asked my husband if he thought the boys did not want to eat because this was all too much for them. Could their response to lunch be explained by the fact we moved to a foreign country a few short days earlier, or the incessant heat of Singapore, or seeing the pale chickens and ducks hanging from their legs in the restaurant window or the surprise they got when they went to the restroom and there was only a hole to do their business in?

Whatever the reason we had been embarrassed. We decided we were going to try local foods as a family and make our pallets adventurous.  After all, we hadn’t raised chicken nugget children so far why start now.

In the months to follow my kids tried pepper crab, “too spicy mommy” they gasped as they washed it down with $6.00 sodas. We ate weekly at a local hawker stand and they realized they do like chicken rice but they like it roasted and brown rather than boiled or steamed and opaque. They each found their favorite dishes; Collin feasted on noodles, prawns and squid, and Aaron found chicken wings with spicy green beans, and Jack loves green tea, who knew? They tried roti prata, fish curry and kaya toast.

3 months into our adventure and we had not succumbed to the McDonalds that lurked a few short steps from our front door. We rarely even thought about going to any of the American food favorites that are scattered all over the city.

We were doing well until we headed out to IFly Singapore. It simulates skydiving with an indoor wind tunnel. This is a super cool place. After taking several turns we were both exhilarated and ravenous. We looked at several places nearby to grab a bite and then like a beacon the boys saw the golden arches in the distance. We gave way to our American fast food ban and ate lunch at McDonalds.  The boys declared it was the best cheeseburger and fries they had ever had at McDonalds.

I will admit those salty fries were a welcome treat for me as well, and later in the week we did head to Dairy Queen for a long awaited Blizzard. Almost a year later we occasionally hit the fast food giant but reserve it for really busy days or a special treat. The boys rarely mention heading to McDonalds but are always glad when we do. I think we have found a happy medium that we can live with, now if we can only figure out how to manage their time on the I-pads.