interaction – Beijing Kids

Local Socializing: Follow Us on WeChat

Nimo_Wanjau

beijingkids just launched a WeChat account that features top four family friendly events. The account had its first successful post last week.We will showcase the events on weekends, during the week and those that need early sign ups. The posts will go out every Tuesday evenings.

We will not be limited to the just events, also highlighted will be one seasonal blog that will feature a round up of activities taking place such as camps, dining and shopping ideas.You can also engage with us about inquiries or just to chit chat, we would like to hear from you.

Get to subscribe to our group by scanning the QR code below, this is easily done within five minutes. You will need to be online for this to work. Go to the discover tab and find the Scan QR code option that comes below moments then place your phone with the camera facing this screen and the app will scan this code. Once if finishes scanning it will take you to our page and you can choose the follow option at the bottom.

If you want to share our group information with other people, WeChat has the share a business card function only within the social media app. Here is how to do it:

Go to the subscription accounts in the contacts tab and find our account, select it then go to the top right hand corner to the person icon, which will open another page.
In the new page you will be able to find information about the intro, history and activate message alerts. In this page at the top right hand corner you will see three periods at the top click that and you will get a pop up menu with the first option being ‘Share Name Card’ and it will take bring up a list of all your chats.
Finally, select who to share with.
Note: that this process is for the iOS system.

The app is available on the iOS, Android and Windows systems.

Photo courtesy of WeChat (picasa)

Social Life Killers

Thu, 28 Nov 2013 09:00:00 +0000

Let’s face, kids suck the life out of parents. I’m talking about their social lives, of course. Sure, when you have one child, it’s no big deal. Savvy and I use to take Reina out with us everywhere when she was little. Pack her up in a sling, grab a diaper bag, and Reina was the life of a club street scene, fancy dinner party, or art exhibition. And being China, our Chinese friends expected us to bring her out. If we left her at home with an ayi, they felt deprived of her bubbly baby cuteness.

All of that changed rather dramatically when we had twins. Sure, we can pack up the kids and take them out, but as our recent outing to the Beijing Kids Halloween Party showed, we will spend the entire time chasing, changing, and feeding cranky babies that have missed their nap time rather than spending any quality time with our friends who sat at the same table with us.

More than that, kids alter the landscape of what a social outing is. Sure, I still go out, and I still interact with friends, but now it is at school events, play dates, piano lessons, and lunches with other parents where we commiserate and strategize over parenting issues and coping strategies, and keep in mind that I don’t drink alcohol, so that coping method is off the lunch table for me too. I’m also gluten free, so most desert options are off my menu choices as well. Sigh.

Yes, I am in China, and yes, we do have ayis in the plural, but that is a welcome assistance, not a get-out-of-parenting-free card. Nor would I want it to be. One of the highlights of my day is picking up my daughter from the bus stop in the afternoon and finding out how here day at school went, determining how much homework she has (so much for no homework for first and second grade students), and how to get some dinner in her before rushing off to her language exchange or piano lessons. Somewhere in there, I’ve got to get in some reading time, dunk her in the bathtub, and get her to bed on time so we can turn around and do it all over again the next day. And that is just for one child. God help me when the boys start school.

Anyone free for lunch tomorrow?

Photo courtesy of Leszek.Leszczynski

Mothering Another’s Son

I spent the morning with 60 young boys.

They were seniors from a high school in the Philippines that’s hugely popular for its strong Chinese language and culture program. They were spending six weeks here in Beijing as part of a cultural immersion program. The agenda, of course, included visits to famous tourist destinations – what good is a trip to the capital of China if there are no sightings of the Forbidden City or the Great Wall? But this was not completely a touristic pursuit and there were classes scheduled, as well as outreach programs with beneficiaries of charity organizations.

For extra relevance, the program directors also got in touch with several Filipinos already living in Beijing, inviting them to share a bit about their personal and work experience here. I was one of them, and although I am normally reluctant to address a big group of strangers (all taller than myself) I said yes. Primarily because, being a mother to two sons, I am partial to gatherings of boys.

The boys I was to meet were only two or three years older than my elder son. Somehow, I felt that by addressing a roomful of boys, I was communicating with my own sons as well. Besides, I couldn’t say no to old friends who play pivotal roles in the running of the school. Finally, much as I love my family, I need time to do things for me. My writing, despite a lot of it being about my family, is mine. So, I thought would giving this talk be too. I would be there as me, not as wife or mother.

And so the acceptance email was sent, the gears in my head started spinning, and a few days before the talk, the words got put on paper. The talk shaped up very nicely, I thought. A few choice photos to accompany each paragraph were arranged into a rudimentary PowerPoint presentation. Armed not only with my speech, but with the intention to connect with just one person, I made off for the Beijing Language and Culture College to meet with my audience.

The thing about pouring your soul into a piece of (real or virtual) paper is that you don’t get much feedback from people who have read it. Sure, they may read through your entire piece, but you never actually know if you managed to strike a chord, or if they thought you were talking hot air.

I reminded myself to relax, read what I had written (and previously rehearsed several times at home, to be sure), and was glad to see a real live audience’s reaction. It wasn’t all bad. I saw some nods of recognition, some smiles, and some moments of understanding.

As with most talks, there was a question-and-answer session at the end. I tried to answer the boys’ questions, and all I could do was hope that I did not disappoint.

At the end of the talk, one brave boy came up to me, saying that something I said had said during the unplanned, spontaneous discussion at the end had struck him. It had had to do with finding your purpose in life and realizing your place in the grand scheme of this big bad world.

As he spoke, right in front of me stood my own children at different stages in their lives. For a while I even saw my husband, whom I met when we were both this boy’s age. All the questions, asked and unasked, were evident, as was the quiet knowledge that there really couldn’t be any answer that would suffice. So I simply looked him in the eyes and said, “And it’s tiring, isn’t it?” He looked back, nearly incredulous that I got it. “It’s tiring.” I repeated. “And you just wish things could be so much simpler.” Both our eyes teared up as the connection was made.

There, in that chilly lobby, in a small circle that also included two of his teachers and a few classmates, there was the connection I had hoped to make. With a boy I had never known before. One who was missing his mom and just needed to be heard. And, amazingly, I knew what to say. Spontaneous and unplanned.

I felt good to have been able to leave something for him to think about. And I remembered to give him a hug too. But how many times have I kicked myself for never having been that present for my own sons? All they hear from me is how they should do their chores without being reminded for the nth time, how they should be good to each other and stop trying to kill each other (or worse, me), and how late they will be if they don’t hurry, hurry, hurry up. When it comes to them,I smother them instead of mothering them.

I spent the morning with 60 young boys. And I may still not know them all or their life stories, but for a few short minutes, I hope I stood as mom to one of them.

Photo by Dana Cosio-Mercado

Dana is the beijingkids Shunyi Correspondent. Originally from the Philippines, she moved to Beijing in 2011 (via Europe) with her husband, two sons and Rusty the dog. She enjoys writing, photography, theater, visual arts, and trying new food. In her free time, she can be found exploring the city and driving along the mountain roads of Huairou, Miyun and Pinggu.