Mom & Dad
The Accidental Single Parent
Are you or your spouse an elite member of an airline loyalty program? Got there due to the thousands of miles spent aboard a plane? If so, the person left at home probably inhabits the role of the Accidental Single Parent (ASP).
As a working expat, frequent and extended travel is a necessity rather than an option. With cookie-cutter hotel rooms, the necessity of living out of a suitcase, and choppy Skype calls to the family, it’s a relief to just get back and relax. But often, re-entry means a turbulent landing.
A Spark, A Pop, A Bang
The same thing happens every Chinese New Year (CNY) holiday: a mass exodus from Beijing. The sky turns blue, traffic reduces to levels otherwise not witnessed since the 2008 Olympics, domestic helpers return to their home provinces, and white collar workers, both foreign and domestic, head for tropical climes. By contrast, during our first winter in Beijing, we remained in the city over the holiday and we enjoyed the experience so much, we have made it a family tradition to stay in Beijing over CNY.
Growing up in Ashland, Oregon, fireworks were officially reserved for one night of the year, Independence Day (the Fourth of July). In Ashland and much of the USA, Independence Day represents a time of backyard barbecues, local parades, warm evenings, and municipal firework displays that seem to draw out most of the town’s residents. For my own family, it represents a time of reunion when my brothers and I gather our families at Mom and Dad’s place to share our successes, console our tragedies, relive our pasts, and argue our differences.
The Not So Quiet Before the Storm
When I admitted to my 8-year-old son that I was struggling with my next submission, he threw me a loaded look, and said with all the certitude that only a child can summon, “You know what you should write about, Mom. What Christmas is really about."
Secret Agent Santa
There are no quicker students of cause and effect than small people. Forever pushers of boundaries and testers of tempers, kids have an uncanny ability to limbo under the line that is a parent’s breaking point, getting away with one less cucumber at dinner time or ten extra minutes in front of the TV. It is for this reason that in the Jones-Wong household, the jangling of very distant sleigh bells can be heard as early as July. It is with this in mind that I summon all parents in Beijing to unite and create a consistent, seamless narrative concerning Santa and his crew.
While Elin’s powers of perception have not really developed beyond choosing which flavor ice cream she should choose, her 7-year-old sister is beginning to have serious doubts concerning the existence of the fat bearded one resulting in the further thinning of our parental blackmail sack. The problem is that everywhere she looks for confirmation of Claus’ credulity, she meets with conflicting stories. A quick canvas of her friends taught her that in some instances Santa enters the family home via the balcony window while in others he has obtained a magic key. She’s also begun to wonder why in other households, presents come in spangled wrapping paper while in ours, Santa’s elves use multiple copies of the same issue of Beijing Wanbao.
So Close, Yet So Far Apart
Janice and Tao Kai moved to Beijing when Tao Kai’s father fell ill. At first, they would share in the nursing duties, but once Tao Kai was promoted to deputy manager, he spent more and more time at the office or traveling overseas, leaving Janice to care for her father-in-law alone. On the weekends when Tao Kai was home, he would take his father out to the park to give Janice a much needed break. He never invited her to come along, but she was happy to use the time unconstrained to do chores or see friends. Although they were physically together, they were virtually independent of each other, pursuing separate interests and activities. After Tao Kai’s father passed away, the couple had even less of a common bond and conversations became stilted and superficial. Janice wanted to return to the US, but Tao Kai was given another promotion. Although she didn’t want to give her husband an ultimatum, Janice decided to return to the US and see if he would go back with her. He didn’t.
A Sense of Belonging
Since arriving in Beijing over three years ago, our little family has moved three times for a variety of reasons: cost, proximity to work and school, and lack of community spirit. Yet I’m still working on what to call this last reason. Price and proximity were factors that pulled us toward our latest home in Wangjing (Our motto being: we may be on the edge of town, but we’re not in the suburbs). In the end, it was the lack of a sense of community that gave us no compelling reason to remain in the previous two compounds that we lived in.
When Words Are Needed
It was my new favorite Chinese phrase: “Wo bu pang. Wo huai yun le.”
I cherished these words, anxious for every chance I had to spill them from my mouth. When shopping for clothing or ordering a second croissant at Starbucks, I confidently announced: “I am not fat! I am pregnant!”
Already more than a year into my private Mandarin lessons, I discovered this obvious gap in my vocabulary when I was pregnant with Brigid. I was at the mall trying on a sweater that was tight enough to cling to my protruding midsection. I had just transitioned from ambiguous lumpiness to a nice roundness, something I was happy to celebrate. As I turned and admired the way the sweater hugged my new but welcome curves, I realized that the shop assistant was looking on with horror. Stumbling a bit to find the words, all I could do was point at my belly and say something about having a baby in there. The look of relief that swept across her face was enough to let me know I had expressed myself adequately.
A Shortsighted Father
“Oh no,” the optician said gravely as he shined his light into the eyes of my three-year-old daughter Elin, “This is not what we want to see.” Two minutes earlier I’d been trying to assure him that Elin did, in fact, know her alphabet and that I couldn’t understand why she’d not been able to identify all but the largest of the letters at the summit of the eye test chart. Two days later we were back at his practice in my hometown of Cardiff in the UK, picking up a pair of glasses with a prescription in one eye of +950.
Your Cheating Heart
It usually happens when I’m traveling alone – on the plane, in the hotel elevator, waiting on my eggs at the breakfast buffet. It’s flattering, but inside, I feel like clocking them on the back of the head. They smile, strike up quick conversations, ever ready to laugh at my mediocre comebacks. I can tell they’re married; the ring, the pressed shirt, the look in their eyes – reckless, and on a timetable.
When Kids Cry
This past summer, while traveling between the sourdough-filled air of San Francisco, California and the coffee-fueled weirdness of Portland, Oregon, Reina came to the realization that she could control (or more like manipulate) the adults around her.
