When the majority wins

People tend to blame other humans of lesser intelligence other than themselves to prove one point and one point only - they don't want to be the responsible party.

Admittedly, I've done my share of reproaching others, but of course with good reasons. Granted, I learned a lot of life lessons from my parents, including my own. One thing for sure that never changes - the individual. We were all taught from very young that we have to be like Einstein or the world's greatest philosopher. For those who have gifted talents, we were told to practice every minute of our daily lives to become famous as Leonardo da Vinci or Yo Yo Ma.

In the reality of it all, pressuring our children with expectations we ourselves cannot achieve, is futile. From the moment my daughter was born, I gave her one simple expectation: Learn from your mistakes otherwise it will upset Mommy and Daddy.

She's still young and there's a lot of room for her to grow wiser. I can understand the confusion she is facing at school. We told her we cannot and would not be able to control what goes on outside of our home. We could lecture her until we're blue in the face, but honestly she has to figure that out on her own. It's amusing to me right now, but looking back at my childhood, it wasn't funny.

I had been beaten up at school before. Unruly boys they were, but needlessly violent nonetheless. They stole my new stationery and wrist watch, to which my mother's response was, "Why did you let them?" How could a six year old answer that logic?

My father had spoken to the school principle about it, but I heard nothing more of the discussion other than I would be going to a new and better school. The boys there were not any better. I had to learn to fight back. I am not a feminist by a long shot, but I had wished my parents (especially, my mother) had done something more than just tell me to suck it up and move on.

No, I do not intend to boycott the schools. I believe it's a parent's responsibility to ensure their children interact socially without violence or prejudice. My daughter has given the school a difficult time. I have been called several times before about her behavior. She blatantly gives herself away by just saying, "I just want someone to pay."

That comment alone made me wonder about myself. Have I really lost my ability to be a parent? She has been to the Mental Health Clinic twice. Even after the incident with her being sent there for evaluation was a relief, it still brings a heavy toll to our livelihood as parents. My reading on 'Savage Spawn' did shed some light. She's not a Lorenzo.

Lorenzo was a little boy I met in 1999 when I began my first work as a receptionist at a family dental office. Lorenzo was the son of the dentist partner of my employer. At first glance, he peps you up with P's and Q's. When his mother comes to pick him up, is another story. He would run to his father even after I told him he shouldn't disturb him when his father was with a patient. He would shove me, kick and punch his mom, and then run towards the clinic. His father would have to apologize to his patient and tell his son that he needed to be be working. Lorenzo would yell and scream, "I don't want to go! I hate this woman!" (pointing at his mother) suck his thumb, and sit on the floor kicking his legs while screaming. Whenever his mother would approach, the kicking and punching would start over again.

The second time he was in the office, I was caught up with my work, so I was told to watch him closely. He occupied himself with the Nintendo 64 while I greeted the patients and signed them in. A toddler approached to the next console beside him. He saw her and punched her. Out of reaction, I smacked his butt. He yelled back at me, "Don't do that! I'll tell my daddy!" I apologized to the patient. The toddler was sad, but fine. He screamed and wailed for his father by the reception area. He pointed at me, "She hit my buttocks!" The father had just finished his dental work, so he came up to ask me to explain. After I told him what had happened, he called Lorenzo over to him and began to tell him in a gentle voice, "What you did to that baby was not very nice." Lorenzo yelled, "I don't care! She was playing my game." 

Granted, I should have let my boss done the talking, but I was pissed. I told him that the dental office did not belong to him or his father. I told his father that if this is how his son was going to behave, he should be institutionalized. His father told me that I wouldn't know any better because I was a foreigner and too young to know how to raise a child. This was his statement:

In America, parents are not allowed to hit their children or they will be arrested.

I may have been a foreigner, but that does not give him the upper hand on how I wouldn't know about disciplining or raising a child. I learned from my mother that any parent who does not show discipline to their child lacks the respect and ability to teach meaningful lessons. I even mentioned this to my nurse, who was my Parenting Class instructor during my trimester. She said that boy really deserved a spanking. Yes, she did agree that my mother was right.

The women I tell my story to, actually feel for my mother. She is the absolute amazing woman a mother could be in such a situation; especially raising 4 gifted children. Her resilience still inspires me. I do wish she could tone it down more to a comfortable level. It's not everyday I can sit still and listen to her all day. It's an impossible feat with her around.

In any case, I can only account for my own child. If my child becomes unruly, feel free to tell her that what she is doing is not socially acceptable and that her parents will be notified of her actions. That alone will set her in place. Be aware that my child is different. She does not have Attention Deficit Disorder, she has no sign of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder or show behaviors of Oppositional Defiant Disorder. She's just a chip of the old block sort of child. She just wants to be like everybody else.

Leave before the dust settles

I admit I can get into a violent rage. Who doesn't? The little one managed to steal my ice-cream, hogged the roast beef and interrupt my guitar practice in the past several days. I really had to think through about how I should react to her behavior. I decided it would be best if I just leave the room, do something else useful instead of mouthing off words I don't really intend to do. That's what I just did.

Five years ago was a different story. It was a long haul and self-disparagement to break the barriers of angry temperaments. In a sense, I'm helping her notice that I am capable of managing my anger. She's a very gullible child. She's going to make it hard on herself if she continues to give in to peer-pressure rather than stand for what she truly believes in. We told her numerous times that it is better for her to discover her dreams rather than follow other people's passion. We also provided her the different concepts between being inspired and being influenced.

See, if I had a parent like me, I would have been a better person about how I dealt with others. Yes, that's saying a lot. I don't disrespect my parents. It's not the person I am. No, it's not a self-acclaimed accomplishment. There were situations in my life where I had to really stand up for myself. It's not really easy living in a domestic violent home; especially when I was deemed the "negotiator" between my mother and father. The last time I had to be in between their heated argument, was when the neighbors had called in the authorities for disturbing the peace. In the end, the lessons I learned that day were, I was actually capable of holding on my own, and that I was not the reason for their failed relationship.

In reality, I will always be alone in that battle. My sisters would not understand the damage my mother had engulfed in my life as her "shield". 26 years - my mother still believes I need to be by her side. Yet in all the pile of rubble, the child in me still yearns for her respect. In all honesty, I don't have the heart to leave my mother's side. Surely, there are things between us we cannot agree on. We are very different people with very different perspective on life. Despite all the respect and loyalty I devoted to her, the way she treats me hasn't changed. Henceforth, I keep my distance from her. Yes, I meant that in an austere sentiment.

She stayed in her marriage for the sake of duty. I left my marriage for the sake of happiness. Just because a marriage happens, doesn't mean your personal goals have to end. She could have been the next Marie Curie. She chose to be with her husband, who wanted her to stay home and care for the children. She's an ambitious woman. She took 7 jobs, paid the bills, hired a gardener and a house-keeper, and still managed to get a Master's Degree in Mathematics. If that doesn't give you an idea the kind of person my mother is, I don't know what else would convince you otherwise.

That is something my daughter will never understand. She may not agree with the things I tell her to do. The least she could do is show some respect and consideration. We have a suspicion that she was influenced by the children at school. I've been to the school events. I am certain not all children in America are spoiled brats and braggarts. Unfortunately, not all smart children have smart parents.

I will never stop learning new things. I made my daughter aware of this fact. I've been told by several elders in my life time growing up, that I was wise beyond my years. Yes, I will admit to that. It was what my father taught me. I do listen. It may not be to other's sense of expectation, but I will comply to what makes sense. I do hope in time, she will realize that on her own.

The perfect recipe: A dash of patience and a pinch of love

When shaved, her comment was, "Hey, I look just like the guy from Avatar!"

Case and point when it comes to raising very gifted children: discipline is necessary when needed; not abuse.

I have come to a realization that my child is going to be the way she is. Regardless of how much I had reflected on my past, it only led me to depression, frustration and bitter resentment. I have lashed out. I’m not very proud of myself. I do not want to be the image of my mother.

I’m grateful I have a very understanding daughter. She looks up to me and imitates everything I do. I do find it annoying at times, though I am somewhat flattered. I’ve never been considered in that manner before. I’ve been brought up to think I’m the most worthless piece of vessel to ever set foot on earth. Needless to say, it was not a very happy childhood.

I’ve always told her the truth. Even when I provide her with answers to her questions, she still has a level of skepticism looming over her head. I have considered ignoring the idiosyncrasies she has, but there are some habits I still have to nit-pick. Maybe she has been overwhelmed by praises where by she believes she doesn’t need to pick up after herself. I don’t tease to belittle, but there’s a certain tone to get your point made clear. She clearly doesn’t like to be called “stinky monkey”. She has improved her daily routine. That’s more than enough to get that habit nipped.

We’ve tried to get her interest level in the arts. She has this disposition in a sense that she’s already good at what she does because she knows how smart she is. (O_O)?! Okay, let me clarify what my mother thought about my talent as an artist:

“Is that the best you can do?” She would retort with a scoff whenever I showered her with hand-made greeting cards.

When it came to playing musical instruments, my mother believed I was being difficult by not wanting to learn from the teacher. I already made it clear to her that I did not like the teacher’s methods; one of which was hitting my knuckles with a ruler. How can anyone play properly with swollen knuckles? According to my mother, it was just all in my head. I may have been a prepubescent child, but I had weighed the option: pain versus paying attention to details of the lesson; Pain wins.

Before I start fuming emotional exasperations, I play better by listening. I was playing on my own one day on the piano. It was right after my sister had finished her piano practice. I pretty much imitated what she had played. My mother came over to me with surprise.

“How come you can’t play like that when you’re having your lessons?”

I responded, “I don’t have anyone hitting me.”

From then on, I would practice after my sister finished her session. That was thirteen years ago. I play the guitar now. I’ve tried teaching my daughter. She hasn’t picked it up since she complained her fingers hurt pressing on the strings. We tried having her play the drums. Even then, she gets bored beating on it. I guess she has yet figured out how to improvise. We told her practice makes perfect. She told us that she would rather play or read a book. We bought her books she enjoyed reading; one of which was the “Diary of a Wimpy kid” We even took her to see Kate DiCamillo when she told us she loved reading the book we gave her for her birthday, “Tale of Despereaux”. To my horror, when I took it upon myself to clean her room one day, the books we gave her were marked, dog-eared and mangled at the binding. I know it’s a small thing, but as a book-worm, it was heart-wrenching.

That was then. The summer came, and I’ve noticed she has gotten better about her attitude towards herself and her worldly possessions. She has been practicing her recorder. She does go out of tempo, but it was better than before. Her books are no longer in messy heaps. Her hair is looking healthier. Her table manners have improved. Sometimes, she would grab herself a book and sketch a copy of the cover instead of tracing over. Honestly, I am awfully proud of her. I can also hug her without a stench smearing on to me.

It was exactly what the professions have said, “Structure, positive reinforcement and most of all, patience.” The one virtue, I was never showered with when I was a child. Patience was all it took.

⁷ Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for him: fret not thyself because of him who prospereth in his way, because of the man who bringeth wicked devices to pass.
⁸ Cease from anger, and forsake wrath: fret not thyself in any wise to do evil.
⁹ For evildoers shall be cut off: but those that wait upon the Lord, they shall inherit the earth.
            ~ Psalm 37

I know I would be asking too much, but it wouldn’t hurt to wish she could do this everyday; not only when she wants something to gain from being “good”.

The Stress of raising a relentless child

The summer has begun and nothing has changed. I still have to make sure she has done her chores, made her own meals and performed her routines. Any parent who has not experienced fatigue, insomnia and depression, I applaud you with great awe.

It has recently been a debate whether or not she should be sent to my mother for the summer. The conclusion always ended up as a dismay. My mother doesn't need to have to raise another child; let alone her own grand-daughter. She had already raised four of her own and had suffered enough by doing so. Needless to say, I am bound to this child until the day she learns to grasp the concept that the whole world doesn't revolve around her.

We have tried positive reinforcement, counseling, impervious discipline and constant mentoring. This child will not budge a sense of acknowledgement of sages. There were moments I have to go to my own solace to sigh grievances and contemplate defeat. As much as I love to pamper her like a princess, I just cannot allow myself to leave her vulnerable to a cruel world. I never had, and I never will treat her like a princess. Yet, here she is demanding for it to be so.

My sanity has not been perverted, but my dreams have. Every fortnight or so, the scenery may differ, but they all end the same. I watch her die or find her dead. Sometimes, I ask myself if the dreams are a sign of premonition or if it's a worse case scenario assuming that she hasn't learned to scrutinize her own behavior. Amidst all this folly in my head, I am still the strict mother she refuses to adhere to. *scoffs* [needs to find a bare wall in the office to bang my head on]

If therapy isn't the solution, I don't know what is. My only resolution is life. Let nature take it's course. If she hasn't learned from her own life lessons... I rest my case.

Humanity repeats itself

I am not a proclaimed psychologist. However, I do know how I think, who I am and where I am coming from. The reason for such a debate as this is, the reality of a violent childhood in a sense that the intensity of such a personality can be threatening entering adulthood.

As much my mother denies it, I grew up in a domestic violent home. I’m going to continue professing this not to get charitable sympathy, but a basic understanding where my temperament comes from. Witnessing my own daughter displaying the same temperament causes much for concern. Sometimes, I do ask myself, “Have I been too hard on her?”

If the reality of my behavior is so predictable, could this mean my own daughter will suffer the same fate I did? I am foreign to my daughter’s train of thought, but I do know one thing. She is a very angry person. For whatever reason that is, I am helpless.

After reading the Power of Kindness, it did shed some light that forgiveness brings a whole new meaning to peace; in a sense that reflecting on where I am now in my life compared to my life then. Yes, this is a healthy kind of reflection: the kind that allows one to pat oneself on the back and treat oneself to a good hearty treat. Mind you, it wasn’t an easy road.

I had picked up a book a couple years ago from a library sale: Savage spawn. It’s a book about violent behaviors in children. The person who must have own this book prior to my acquirement had certain issues about psychopathy. Whoever that person was, I hope for their sake the book did give them some informative sense of peace. Regardless, if I had owned the book, I would have kept it for referral reading.

There was a paragraph that took quite an emotional toll on me. The paragraph read, that violent parents seed violent children; not necessarily from poor families, but from hot-blooded, angry families. I was relieved that the author, who is also a professional psychologist, stated that there are not enough studies to show the data as relevant since not every practitioner of the field have the ability to individually observe each family of every household.

I do not know how my mother grew up, despite the stories she told me every moment of her emotional roller coaster came to pass. I do imagine a lot about what it could have been like. She traumatized me emotionally, mentally and spiritually. I am far from psychotic. I do not suffer from hallucinations of the sort. I have a sound mind enough to create poetry and a paragraph of vivid characters.

Considering my past childhood, I barely notice my influence towards my own daughter. The signs were there. I just did not notice until it hit me like a concrete wall. I’m not complaining. I’m just wounded by the fact that I may have contributed to some, if not, all of her repressed anger.

I left the house without a word. Her inability to seek shelter from me drew her to isolation, depression and resentment. I had no choice. I was threatened. I had to leave that place; even though I knew leaving her behind would probably make her hate me for the rest of her life.

Divorces are not pleasant. They will never be. Maybe it could have been the reason why my parents never decided to pursue the idea. Regardless of the impact, the detriment of their constant battering led me to be indifferent to authority and good moral values during my adolescent years.

She never told me in her own words how her father treated her. I heard it second hand from my best friend, who is now my husband and her step-father. I was in the military when she was born. I was working constantly. I was fatigued, burnt-out and spent (mentally). Yet, I took time to read to her, sung her lullabies and played peekaboo. I am certain those times to her were precious. I could not make a toddler understand that my leaving for work was temporary. Even then when she started kindergarten, it was a nightmare for her.

I didn’t understand why. My frustrations must have rubbed on her the wrong way. I was not angry at her. I was upset that I had been married for seven years to her father and was the only one carrying all the weight of the household. I trusted him. I was not aware how much of an enemy he made me out to be. Yes, I was foolish to have not been wise enough to figure it out. I should have known better.

I don’t resent the days of our marriage; just his attitude towards parenthood. His bravado of being a parent first hand was nothing but empty pride. Do I love him still? Yes. Do I want to live with him? No. Never. Period. I’m not angry with him anymore. I could care less what he does to himself as long as he leaves me alone and stays away from me.

That’s not to say the influence of such indifference goes unnoticed. She is as observant as I am. However, I have a better grasp of my well-being than she does hers. She lacks the concept of boundaries and limitations. It’s unsettling since, I raised her to be aware of such things. I am not one to compare, but for the sake of where I’m getting at, I’ll state my claim. My mother would tell her friends how often I would cringe at the sight of people handling objects without washing their hands. I was three then. I do still, but not as obsessive as I was at that tender age.  By age 8, I could tell someone’s mode of intention by how they present themselves to my parents. 

Rebellion is not an act of expressing oppression. It’s a proclamation of defiance. If it were the case, she would have stopped this nonsense a long time ago. Yes, I admit I was defiant; devious even. My defense: I believe the house rules should also apply to the ones who created it. Yes, I do live by it.

Bad habits do get the better of me. Time does heal. She doesn’t understand it yet; let alone know the difference between a learned behavior and a personality trait. I don’t know how else to convince her otherwise. Yes, I do get angry; it doesn’t make me an angry person. Yes, I curse and swear, but I am by far a vulgar person by nature. Everything must be black and white for her. I don’t know why or for what reason. She just feels that way.

My historical background is unfortunately limited since my mother relish on the blunders of my past and my grandmother refuses to talk about it. Other than a resource somewhere down the root of my family tree, there was a rather cynical relative who enjoyed wenching, gambling, ploy shady business schemes and abused certain women in the family. It is not a flattering sense of heritage, if you ask me. I’m sure every family has one. Is it genetically possible to pass such a trait down to the later generations? Maybe so, but its probability could be miniscule on a scale 1:10. I could be wrong, then again, who actually is keeping track of this? How many sons, daughters, nieces, nephews or cousins were incessantly raped or molested by their adult relatives? Whether or not the statistics are accurate on such accounts, it’s almost always not reported. I am not going to think that such a thing would never befall in my family – that’s just asking for a bad omen. I remember being told to yell “Stranger danger”. By the time I was 12, I had to be wary of the men in my family; including my own father. So by the time I was in college, I was not the kindest of all nubile ladies.

Resorting to violence is nothing to be proud of, but it was all I know. I understand the heart-wrenching feeling my mother must have felt when I displayed such an array of defiance towards her. I had my reasons. I’m sure my daughter has one too. Unfortunately, she doesn’t understand it as much as I do. We can’t help each other. That’s what’s unsettling.

Have a spawned an evil child? A psychopath, perhaps? By the time I finish reading that book, I hope to God it isn’t so. A child at war in their state of mind, is not a happy child. Whatever war she’s fighting, she’s not actively looking for an alliance to help her win it. We’ve tried talking, reasoning, yelling, spanking, you name it. Nothing is going to change her mind about the way she behaves. If she ends, up in jail, so be it. I will burn that bridge when it comes. For now, I’m going to continue revising, revisiting and reflecting. If I have to be blue in the face until I faint, she better hope to God I’ll still be alive to avert my retribution when she spawns her own children. When that day comes, I will  just sit, relax and relish the phrase, “Don’t say, I never warned you.”

Child's Right vs. Parents' Right

Under the United Nations' Convention on the rights of the child, the child below the age of 18, is considered by its own right an individual human being, unless stated otherwise in the law applicable to the child. By its own right a child should be recognized for the full and harmonious development of their personality, should grow up in a family environment, in an atmosphere of happiness, love and understanding brought up in the spirit of the ideals proclaimed in the Charter of the United Nations. What are these ideals? When does the right of the Parents end and when the right of the child begin?

It is clear in Article 2 that the family is important to the development of the child regardless of the parents' race, color, sex, language, religion, political or other opinion, national, ethnic or social origin, property, disability, birth or other status. It repeated itself clearly that the child is protected from such all forms of discrimination or punishment on the basis of the status, activities, expressed opinions, or beliefs of the child's parents, legal guardians, or family members. It continues on from Article 3 how important the child's family is regarding their well-being and development; as it is within their right whether undertaken by public or private social welfare institutions, courts of law, administrative authorities or legislative bodies.

In other words, leave the gay parents alone. They have every right to raise a child as much as any of us. In Article 5, it goes to show how serious they are about the rights and duties of the parents to be fully respected in regards to the well-being of the child. If the child is breaking the law, how does one bring the child to justice? What kind of discipline is accepted? To what extent should the government come into play the authoritative figure above the parents? Article 9 addresses the concern of these aforementioned questions. If there are any signs of abuse or neglect, the child and all interested parties shall be given an opportunity to participate in the proceedings and make their views known. As we all know, children can be melodramatic about their experiences especially when they do not get what they want when they want it.

How does one determine signs of abuse and neglect? When a parent causes irreparable harm to the child. What examples of circumstances can be used to describe such harm? To what degree corporeal punishment becomes abusive? At what point should corporeal punishment stop? My parents stopped when I was 14. My aunt stopped when my cousin was 4. There are not set examples. The development of each child is different. My husband and I decided to stop since we realized the corporeal punishment of her consequences made little to no difference in changing her insolent behavior towards rules and regulations; both private and public.

How does one measure abandonment? Is leaving your child to independently work on their own responsibilities considered a form of abandonment? How much time of supervision does a toddler need or an adolescent compared to a juvenile? I had to take a lot of responsibility at the age of 7 since I was the eldest of 4 children. Being scolded for not living up to that responsibility caused a lot of stress and deprived childhood. Being a mother of an only child is not as easy as it looks either; especially a child as stubborn as a mule.

Can any child under the age of 18 be capable of forming their own views in a perceptive and orchestrated concept of their well-being? How is maturity measured by the law? Society has made it clear that if any one does not follow the law, they are thereby tried and punished according to their age and maturity. Does the law enforce this decree? Not all the time. Many innocent people have been hung, executed or dismembered from society for life. A young boy was arrested and sent to the juvenile facility because the cops found a gun on his hand. Consequential evidence should not even exist. No one should ever gamble the life of a person regardless of their age. Sure, it was evident that the young boy is by ethnicity a black person in a bad neighborhood where gang life thrives, but the circumstance of his position at the crime scene had no bearing. No questions were asked. The young boy served his time. He was already labelled a possible criminal and a juvenile delinquent even before he could say what had happened on that day. He wrote in his journal that his friend found his father's gun and wanted to show him how to shoot it. Before he could even stop his friend, it was too late. The gun fired at the hand of his own friend. He sat there stunned. What could he possibly do? The cops were obviously racist. They did not bother calling the parents. They just arrested the young boy on the spot. Could his mother have done something about it? Yes. Why didn't she? She assumed he was dead on the streets. It was too common not to assume otherwise. How could she have known? No one notified her. By the time the news reached that her son was arrested, it was too late to do anything. The papers were filed. This young boy I am referring to, was a story based on the book The Freedom Writers Diary by teacher Erin Gruwell.

How many cases of children were taken away from their home because the authorities "assume" their parents were not fulfilling their duties? How many children suffered from bad foster homes? When will there be a better understanding of the importance of the family in the child's life? How many authoritative figures of society are married with children? Article 13 raises a lot of these questions.

My daughter certainly was allowed this right - the freedom to express her views. Were these views even true or substantially evident? Was there anything I could have done differently? For the first 3 years of her life, I showed her the concept of responsibility. The rules and regulations she had to abide by. She followed them flawlessly despite the reservation her father had with such independence and little supervision. In reality, I was there by her side 100%. As toddler, she needed that security, but as a growing and developing child she had to learn the vital importance of self-responsibility. From the first step to the first run after crawling on the floor for quite sometime. During my service in the military at the time of Operation Noble Eagle and Enduring Freedom, her father assured me he knew what he was doing. To my greatest of horror, he had left her in her dirty diapers for almost 4 hours without changing. I did the best I could to sacrifice my time to be there for my daughter as a double-rolled parent. Considering the situation I was in, I took my daughter's well-being in consideration in mind. My fatigued well-being due to the stress her father was inflicting on me was not doing her any favor. I left. Within a month or so, I took primary custody. Whether or not she felt angry, frustrated, unforgiving about what had happened during the divorce, the circumstance of it all gave us little to no chance of expressing our views freely. There were legal procedures that had to be followed.

Now faced with the dilemma of her uncontrolled behavior of unforgiving nomenclature of her desire for wanting everything under the sun, has left us impaled with the bravado of a spoiled brat. I did not raise her to believe that she could have everything under the sun by whatever means necessary. I raised her to be grateful for what she has. She was far more privileged as a child than I was. I never had a TV in my room. Let alone a gaming console and a video player. I had a radio, but not a sound system. Yet, with all these things, she managed to render these devices nonfunctional. I had that radio until college. I already told her that comparing my life to hers and vice-verse is rudimentary unfair by any circumstances.

No matter how much we tried to convince her that her behavior will lead her to an unpleasant journey in the long run, she managed to find herself in the hands of the social authority, we have no control over. Awaiting her return home would only lead to one question: What does she really want in her life?

Article 15 and 16 also raises a concern. She associates herself with other children who inflict, cohere and impose pain, threat and suffering on other children; peers and/or younger. Yet in conflicted aspects of herself when she is treated the same way. She understands the logical thought of her actions, yet compels herself to defy this logic. To what degree can a parent do to act upon such a destructive behavior? Her school authorities expressed their concern regarding her behavior. We have considered their suggestions. We worked together to get her to understand the concept of acceptable social mannerisms. We are now at the mercy of the government. The ruling of such a minor of continuous defiance against authority is left to questioning her rather than the parents. How does she really feel about all this? How much does she place worth to her life?

I am in due part to Article 18. As a parent, I have the right to make sure the well-being of my child is considered. Her basic needs are met. Her development has been catered to follow the rules and regulations at home, school and public places. Whatever it is she feels at this moment, does not meet her need. Whatever those needs are, have been proven to be dangerous, destructive and causes much for concern. We, as parents, have done our duties to provide, guide, discipline and instruct the importance of a responsible citizen of society in part to her well-being and development as an individual child. Until this point, we are rendered accountable to her now defiant nature to society regardless of our positive reinforcement of encouragement, self-esteem, self-worth and self-responsibility. We do not understand the nature of her ideals. Her ideals as expressed, "Life is not fair because I'm not get what I want when I want it." In part to this statement, she has beguiled anyone and everyone she deserves to acquire, express, culminate such desires in her undertaking and control without labor, earnings or being rewarded appropriately for such aforementioned needs.

There is no evidence of such abuse or neglect as stated in Article 19, 33 or 34 at our home. She treats her stepfather as her own. She spends more time with him than she does with me. I have taken every opportunity to spend most of my time with her. I let her read beside me while I knit. I take her to school every morning. I even took my time to get out of bed to make sure she takes her breakfast and packs a full meal. She was given all this freedom well over 2 years ago; if not more than that said period. She seems to believe that if she gives enough people into difficult situations to a point of surrender, she can get away with doing whatever it is she wants with everything, which includes lying, stealing, and cheating. If it does get to a point where she has violated the public rules and safety of society, my only hope is that Article 40 is in part and consideration in the constitution and bills of rights in the US state government.

This is an interesting revelation that a juvenile with such a mentality could exist among good-nature adults in society. What social authority as stated in Article 20 provide such a protection of a child such as this? As a parent of this said child, I have every right to exercise my freedom of expression to the aforementioned social authority in regards to the well-being of my child. Regardless of what they evaluate and observe, I would have a better grasp of the home environment than my child; not because I am the parent, but because I am the involving party of the family - not the aforementioned authority. Are they going to require a law that would allow such an authority to invade the privacy of the home?

As we all know, the U.S. government is run by national corporations, thereby rendering Article 23 a threat to their economy. It would be nice to be provided services to my child for free - if she is found evidently mentally disabled. I never would thought my childhood considered a mental health issue until now. I am a partially dyslexic pyromaniac with historical hereditary of depression, anxiety disorder, dementia and Munchausen syndrome both from maternal and paternal parents dating back to my great-great-grand parents. My parents seem to have managed us well without other parties outside the family involved. Have we succumbed to the social normality that medicine is the only cure to childhood exploration and experience?

It is my right as a parent to ensure that all these articles written in this convention be revised with caution. The family of each individual child is and cannot be fashioned into one standard ruling. Every home has it's purpose and function for each individual child. I cannot speak for all parents. I speak for my right. My right as a parent of my daughter is to make sure that she understands her place at home, at school and in public. Regardless of her defiance towards authority, she would have to realize that on her own time; as stated in the aforementioned convention. As a parent, it is my right to be provided the services rendered without cause of financial and social grief and stress my daughter has already bestowed upon us in regards to her development and well-being. I've been charged to pay at least, if not more than $14700.00 of medical fees all because she wants to attract attention that she's not getting what she wants when she wants it via stealing, lying and cheating. If anything, there should be at least some breathing room for parents to be given a choice if they do not have the financial and health insurance means to do so whether or not their child should be in custody of such institutions.

I do hope that the psychologist is wise enough to recognize the manipulation power of this child and be forgiven such a debt on the service that was never necessary to begin with. As a parent, it is also my right to ensure that if this is a medical concern, that my child be taken care of and funded by family to whom we see suitable to our family's needs based on my child's development and well-being. I do hope in part of all of this bravado, lessons will be learned and mistakes not be repeated.

In conclusion, the Rights of the parents end when there is complete and full investigated evidence of abuse and neglect and the Rights of the child begins when such an event happens. In my case, this is not applicable to my child or my family's concern of my child's development and well-being. Just because a child is exercising its right to explore the world to experience it without supervision, doesn't mean bad parenting is involved. It's just an act that she is being a spoiled brat even though there is no evidence of such upbringing at our home.
 

The Bully's Creed

Manage what you can bully; bully what you can manage. If a bully doesn't know when they're defeated, they're nothing but a sore loser-mamby-pamby-cry-baby. That's right. You heard me.

Yes, I do admit I was a bully once. You would think a girl looking like this wouldn't cause so much menace. She didn't start out that way. You may start asking, what was her home like? Where did she go to school?

I was a really quiet and reserved child you ever did see of the early 80's era. I was bullied before in a school called Tadika Nusa Laila Puteri at Berakas, Brunei Darussalam. A group of older boys circled around me, pushed, punched and kicked me until I couldn't get up so that I couldn't hold on to my bag anymore. They stole everything from my bag. If you think that did me in, you assumed wrong.

After my father dealt with the school authorities, he had no other choice but to transfer me to another school. The bullying didn't stop. My mother thought, or so it seemed to me, that bullying me at home would toughen me up. I fought back - with full retaliation of auto-reflex rage of hate. I will guarantee you, if you ask her about it, she'll deny this to her grave.

I bullied my sisters at home, the boys at school and a number of other girls who were just too cute to ignore. What made me stop my tracks on this rampage was not the reprimand that I received from my parents, but a wise and sensible reasoning of a high school boy. This high school boy's name is Rasheed Noor Mohammad. I had bullied his sister into giving me her special headband. In the end, it broke and she told Rasheed what happened. He came up to me and asked, "What did you think you were going to get out of it?" I answered him honestly. He then asked me if I enjoy being bullied if I were in his sister's shoes. I shook my head.

I told his sister I was very sorry. I just wanted to play with it since it had miniature balloons and streamers adorned with black fluffy feathers. I really felt bad for breaking it. After that incident, we became the best of friends. In return, she helped me resolve my sister's issue with a particular menace and "kid" bully at school. This so called "kid" bully was coercing every student of all ages to be her friend or face the consequences of the royal family. Yes, she was a royal pain in the butt. Even the true heirs of the throne were not very fond of her. It turned out she was an adopted orphan of one of the Princes of Brunei.

Anyway, bullying may be illegal in the U.S., but that doesn't mean every institution enforces the law of it's illegal action. Many cases have been ignored or abated with verbal warning. It's not so much who's partaking in the bullying. It's how it's being dealt with and how it's being resolved.

My daughter was being bullied at school. I told her how to handle it. Unfortunately, her father didn't think so kindly of my approach and had my daughter take Kung Fu lessons. By the time she was in second grade, she was punching and kicking other kids because she felt they were too stupid to do what they were told. Where she has gotten that from, is beyond me. Even when I was a bully, I never stooped that low to define my ruling power. Feeling powerless is one thing; thinking you're better than anyone else is another story entirely. That's where the label: Dickhead, Jerk, Bitch and Asshole come to play.

It's been three years now since I have left her father. Her stepfather and I believed the structured environment would do her some good and better time for healing her past hurt. She adores her stepfather like he was her own father. She takes in his counsel more than she does mine. We're still wondering why this behavior still lingers.

Here's my daughter's dilemma. There are other bullies bigger and stronger than her. She doesn't like them. She fights back like a gelding on a breastcollar harness. When she's in that mode, she's gone hay-wired. She retaliates at the teacher, her classmates, everybody. We told her numerous times that this is behavior could land her in jail. What would a mother like me ought to do?

Bully like no other bullies have gone before.
"Kyle: Time to meet your makers!
Clark: Makers of what? POOP?" Author Unknown in The Benchwarmers - 2006

The Dating Game

My daughter will be in her pre-teens soon. I'm worried about the guys she would be attracting considering the type of person she is. I remember growing up during my pubescent years, having to keep up with the popular girls. After a week of trying, I just decided that keeping up with them is a pain. I have always known that I will always be the odd one out. Looking back, it amuses me even today, how much everyone wanted to be my friend. The common phrase was, "You're always smiling even when people annoy you." One guy in my class even confessed I looked cute whenever I got mad. Okay, whatever - fine. Just stop annoying me dammit. My best friend would tease me, "He's just doing that because he likes you."

I didn't know then, but I was told it was the only way boys get attention from the girls. As annoying as it is, it didn't score points for me. By the time I was in High School, the same guy came up to me and asked me out. I just gave him the most demeaning lip any guy would ever get from me. I crushed his dignity like a bug. My best friend made me feel bad for saying harsh words to him; it was unlike me to say such things to a person. It's true - I don't have the heart to be sadistic, scornful and prejudice towards others. I sent an apology letter that never arrived. I must have been given a fake address. I guess it was never meant to be.

When I got to college, I thought I knew everything there is to know about relationships. I had realized much too late that I was wrong. Looking back at my relationship with my first boyfriend, I could have been a better partner. I could have been so much happier without my daughter's father. When I realized the mistake I made (7 years down my marriage and divorce), I've learned to be more appreciative, understanding and a supporting spouse to my current husband, who is still my best friend, mentor and partner.

http://www.linain.com/category/dating-methods-for-men

So, with that being said, I wanted to point out to the guys out there, that there are only 2 reasons why women would play the Bitch Card. One, to weed out the emotional wrecks. Two, to expose the violent men. One good example:

There was this guy in college who confessed he had a crush on me and wanted to hang out and get to know me. 5 points for trying. Then he asked me what my religion was. When I told him that I am a Christian, he slid down the other end of the bench as if I had an incurable disease. -5 points for being a judgmental prick. Hey, he asked; I answered. There was no point of getting upset over something I didn't do. I don't go around strutting my stuff in public. It's not my thing. When I told him that I wasn't interested, he begged me to give him a chance. -5 points for being pathetic. The only way I got completely rid of him was when I told a friend, whom I was emotionally supporting, that I had a troll in my way. She's a bit on the plump side, still a beauty nonetheless. She walked up to him and snuggled to his side and said, "So, I heard you were single and looking for someone to be with. Would you like to be my boyfriend?" It was the coolest thing she ever did for me. I'll tell you her story another time.

http://thesquarelife.com/content/relationships-dating

When I was growing up, my mother raised us to concentrate on our studies and get our Doctorate degrees before we even think about dating and marriage. When push came to shove, I realized she wanted us not to make the same mistake she did. Due to her scornful attitude towards my father, I can see why I grew accustomed to demeaning all men.  Yes, I am aware that not all guys are jackasses. Not all chivalrous men are honest, loyal and honorable. It's true what my Dad told me once: It takes one to know one. I believe that there are women out there who suffered more than I did - some to the point of losing their own lives just out of love.

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCjcXrRoOqgELTw8DuxVLXyA-rkdnmQlYXouWtgKEe6qeve5pDiC5xgqIXXKVUeEwfBklTSN2vSWoH_BvNW3Kp13OTQEgGTj7RendpWJ5LY4Ey8K0d1gu_Znsu55j9MEhw5fLWQj_Bslg/s400/he+said+that+he+was+sorry.jpg

Love is not really as complicated as society has drawn out for the world. Love is not a game. It is an emotion vital to human interaction with one another. Very few get to experience it completely without prejudice, malice, or perversion.

When I use the term 'perversion', I mean the true definition of perversion. One good example:
I was about 10 or 11 at the time. My mother had invited her friend over for the holidays. Their son was about 12 or 13. My mother prepared my bedroom, which I also share with my sisters, into their guest room. The loft became our bedroom. At the time, I had fashioned my quadro into a double bunk bed. We girls were told to sleep on the bunk bed and the boy to sleep on the floor on the other corner of the loft. When my mother suggested the boy share the same bedroom with us, I was not only petrified, I was enraged. Needless to say, I learned this boy is much to be desired as a friend, let alone safe to be with. My sister had told me he had silently crept up to the bunk bed and kissed her. One morning he gestured me to take a peek at the keyhole where his parents were sleeping. He was disturbingly excited about something. I gave a peek to see what his fuss was about; and I quickly pulled away because I saw naked people through the key hole. He begged me to continue looking. I refused. I told him he was disgusting. He just looked at me with such confusion. He said, "You have to see them do it. It's fascinating!" He was cackling with such glee peering back into the key hole, I ran away to find my mother. I was hoping this information alone would let her know he was a dangerous boy to be with. Obviously, he denied such an act and I got punished for it. That night after the incident, he laid next to me, whispered in my ear, "I forgive you. I'm going to kiss you and you're going to like it. If you say anything else, I'll make sure you'll regret it."

http://www.radicalparenting.com/2009/01/26/7-facts-about-teen-dating-abuse-smothering-and-obsessive-youth/

I never told anyone. At that time and in that moment, I'd rather it be me than my sisters. Even if I had told what had happened that night, my mother would have given the same reaction she gave me when I told her the family friend from Malaysia attempted to molest me. Her response, "You should have known better than to have allowed it to happen. You should never go alone with a man." This experience alone is why I played the Bitch Card as often as the opportunity see fit. What angered me the most, my mother's lack of intuition and safety of her daughters' well-being.

This is not be the first and it certainly would not be the last. My mother has never been attentive to our needs when we were growing up. Most of my emotional instability stemmed from all the psychological abuse I received from her. She denies it to this day. I re-live it in my dreams. Much to say the least, without the support of my sisters and new found friends, I would not have moved on with my life. It was a long struggle for me to leave my daughter's father. I denied the warning signs, mainly because he was good at convincing me that this behavior of violence, was due to stress. After the second act of strangling my neck, I realized this is who he really was: a violent man. He had gone through 14 girlfriends before he married me. I still do not regret marrying him. Our daughter is the gift of our lives. If it were not for him, I would certainly have fallen into clinical depression due to my mother's psychological abuse alone. The reason why he married me, was because he wanted me to fall in love with him. He believed that I married him because I was pregnant with his child. I told him that he did not need to put so much effort into having me fall in love with him. I loved him for his wits and spunk despite his austere attitude towards others. I even told him when I found out about my pregnancy that he didn't need to stay. Yet, he stayed because he said, "You're the most awesome person to be with, ever." I still believe him on that one.

http://www.dodgenet.com/~dsaoc/esdatingviolence.htm

Healing takes a while especially when there's very limited resources. How I managed to leave the abusive relationship was acting upon his wager. His wager was that I did not have the guts to call the Women's Center (Interact). It took finesse, calculated opportunities and safe planning. After being through so much, my mother apologized.

I love her dearly. I accepted her apology. Forgiveness is not something I give to people freely unless I know it's sincere. It's hard to believe that anything my mother does for me was ever sincere. I'm sure the sentiment was there at the time when she apologized. All that feeling of reconciliation faded when she struck me again with guilt and blame during my visit for my father's memorial service.

In time I hope when my daughter is old enough to grasp the concept of relationships, I hope she has the heart to forgive me for doing what I knew was best for the both of us.