Hôm Chủ Nhật, lúc con học võ tôi nói chuyện với một phụ huynh khác. Anh và vợ chồng chỉ có một thằng con. Anh khen tôi hay khi biết tôi sắp có thằng con thứ tư. Anh tâm sự rằng. Anh vất vả với thằng con vì lúc sáu tuổi khám phá nó bị autism. Tuy nhẹ nhưng nó không chịu nói chuyện với ai cả. Anh phải cho nó đi học đủ thứ để nó hòa nhập với đám đông.

Tôi may mắn là ba thằng con nó hơi nhiều. Hai thằng lớn ra ngoài hoạt bát dễ hòa đồng nên tôi cũng mừng. Bây giờ tôi lo ngại nhất là thằng thứ tư. Chỉ mong khi nó chào đời được khỏe mạnh và bình thường. Ba thằng bình thường tôi cũng muốn hết xí quách rồi.

Trước khi ra về giáo sư dạy võ dặn tôi rằng, “em có con trai phải để ý bọn chúng.” Anh kể tôi nghe về thằng học trò 14 tuổi. Cha mẹ cháu tâm sự với thầy rằng thằng nhỏ đang hiếu kỳ về sex. Cha mẹ bận đi làm nên không ngó ngàng. Nó lén mua sex toy trên mạng về tự sử. Cha mẹ cháu nhờ thầy rèn luyện võ thậu cho nó để không bị tình dục quấy nhiễu.

Trời ơi, sao nhiều tình trạng thế. Tôi đến bốn thằng làm sao trông cho xuể? Hai tuần nay cắt iPad tụi nó rồi. Chắc cắt luôn cho nó khỏi tò mò xem bậy bạ trên mạng. Đúng là “More children more problems.” Nhưng giờ cũng đã muộn màng rồi. Cùi không sợ lỡ. Đứa nào ngoan thì đỡ. Không thì cũng phải rán.

A mother wrote on her Facebook:

So shocking to see a baby in the car by himself with all windows up in the 80s degree weather in a parking lot at my kids’ summer camp. I was about to call someone when an elderly man walked toward the car with another kid. I told him “please do not leave a baby in the car alone like that, it is hot and dangerous” and he looked at me like I was a nosy lady. He ignored me and got into the car. I was so mad!! What would you do if you see something like that?

I don’t know her so well and her friends already said she should have called the police; therefore, I did not want to engage on the conversation. I just post it here instead.

Maybe just like her, the elderly man was just picking up the other kid at the summer camp and the kid in the car just wanted to sit there for a few minutes. The elderly man was already back to the car when she was about to call the police. Is leaving your child a few minute committing a crime? Are parents overreacting?

Kim Brooks writes about “Motherhood in the Age of Fear” in the New York Times:

We now live in a country where it is seen as abnormal, or even criminal, to allow children to be away from direct adult supervision, even for a second.

We read, in the news or on social media, about children who have been kidnapped, raped and killed, about children forgotten for hours in broiling cars. We do not think about the statistical probabilities or compare the likelihood of such events with far more present dangers, like increasing rates of childhood diabetes or depression. Statistically speaking, according to the writer Warwick Cairns, you would have to leave a child alone in a public place for 750,000 years before he would be snatched by a stranger. Statistically speaking, a child is far more likely to be killed in a car on the way to a store than waiting in one that is parked. But we have decided such reasoning is beside the point. We have decided to do whatever we have to do to feel safe from such horrors, no matter how rare they might be.

And so now children do not walk to school or play in a park on their own. They do not wait in cars. They do not take long walks through the woods or ride bikes along paths or build secret forts while we are inside working or cooking or leading our lives.

I was beginning to understand that it didn’t matter if what I’d done was dangerous; it only mattered if other parents felt it was dangerous. When it comes to kids’ safety, feelings are facts.

As one mother put it to me, “I don’t know if I’m afraid for my kids, or if I’m afraid other people will be afraid and will judge me for my lack of fear.” In other words, risk assessment and moral judgment are intertwined.

As we were driving to Taekwondo class yesterday, Đán asked Đạo, “What are genes?” Đạo explained, “Genes are DNAs that come from your parents. For example, I am addicted to books like daddy and I like to shout like mommy.” I had to hold my laughter, but I could not help treating them to their favorite frozen yogurt place.

Thứ Năm hai vợ chồng ăn mừng kỷ niệm hôn nhân nên sáng đã đem thằng con qua chơi với Đạo và Đán. Tôi hơi lo vì dạo này cậu ta hơi bị mít ướt. Không vừa ý cậu là cậu khóc om sòm. Tôi phải rầy la hai thằng con mình để tránh cãi cọ. Thêm nữa là Đạo và Đán không được chơ iPad. Cậu ta mà không có iPad sẽ nổi điên. Trưa ở chổ làm tôi gọi về nhà hỏi vợ mọi chuyện êm xuôi không. Vợ bảo chúng nó chơi với nhau vui vẻ không có vấn đề gì cả. Thôi tôi cũng yên tâm.

Chiều đón thằng Xuân về thấy vợ không được vui còn cậu ta không còn ở nhà nữa nên tôi hỏi chuyện gì. Vợ bảo cậu ta không vui khóc lóc rồi đòi về nhà rồi. Vợ giận lớn tiếng rằng thằng đó hở ra là khóc chẳng lẻ phải rầy la hai thằng con mình hoài. Tôi với bà xã đã cãi cọ nhau về dụ này nhiều lần. Vợ cứ nói tôi muốn chia rẽ bọn chúng. Giờ thì chính vợ chứng kiến rồi.

Một tiếng trước khi đi học tiếng Việt, mẹ cậu gọi điện thoại nói tôi khỏi qua đón để ba cậu đưa cậu đi được rồi. Mấy tháng hè học bơi, học võ, và học tiếng Việt tôi đều đưa đón cả như là trách nhiệm của mình mà chẵng nghe một lời cám ơn. Giờ cậu con trai khóc lóc không cảm thấy thoải mái nữa nên con ai nấy đưa đón chứ không phải thay phiên vì tôi đã đưa đón mấy tháng nay.

Đạo and Đán are adapting well without screen time. They played together and haven’t asked for their iPad. I am not sure if I should bring back screen time.

I am, on the other hand, failed miserably. After returning a dozen of books to the library, I felt empty. Everyday at work, I walked to the library after lunch just so I get some exercise. I browsed the new bookshelf and could not help myself. I picked up one English non-fiction and two Vietnamese books.

When I spent time with my kids, I did not pick up my phone. I also did not open my book. Although I got tired of watching Polar Express for the hundredth time, I enjoyed having Xuân sitting in my lap. I just kissed his head and rubbed his arms. When I took Đạo and Đán to Taekwondo or Vietnamese school, I could not wait to spend the next two hours reading. When I them to Vietnamese school last night, the rain was pouring hard; therefore, the parents who waited around went inside the school. They sat around and chit chat. I just sat and read. I could have joined them, but I didn’t feel like doing the work. I must admit. I am suck at socializing.

My kids aren’t like me. They can play with anyone and I am happy about that. I am also glad that they are not like me in that regard.

Lúc Đạo hai tuổi, nó thường đánh hoặc cào mỗi khi tức giận. Tôi khẻ tay nói vài lần và nhắc nó. Mấy lần sau nó vừa vươn tay ra định đánh, nó nhớ hậu quả nên thôi. Thế rồi nó bỏ. Đán cũng thế. Lúc hai tuổi nó đánh anh nó và tôi. Tôi cũng khẻ tay nó vài lần rồi hết. Bây giờ thằng Xuân cũng bắt đầu đánh. Nó đánh hai thằng anh, hai thằng anh không đánh lại. Tôi không khẻ tay nó nữa mà chỉ nhắc nhỡ nó.

Tôi không hối hận đánh con. Nói đánh, chứ tôi chỉ dùng tay khẻ nhẹ tay nó thôi. Nhưng tôi ân hận vì chúng nó không đánh trả lại khi bị đứa khác đánh. Hôm nọ, thằng Đán chơi với một thằng khác bằng tuổi. Không biết thằng Đán nói gì thằng kia mà nó giận dữ đấm vào lưng thằng Đán hai cái. Tôi bảo nó ngưng nó lại thoi thêm bốn cái. Tôi phải chạy đến đẩy thằng Đán ra và bảo thằng kia không được đánh. Thế là nó khóc ầm lên. Cha mẹ thấy xót ruột nên lại dỗ dành con mình. Tôi nói với thằng Đán trước mặt cha mẹ thằng kia, “Lần sau nó đánh con con đập lại hoặc tránh đừng ngồi ở đó để làm bao đấm.”

Thằng kia lúc hai tuổi đã thế. Mỗi lần giận nó ném đồ hoặc đánh đập cha mẹ. Rồi cha mẹ cứ để thế nên bây giờ sáu tuổi rồi nó vẫn thế. Có lần nó đập thằng Đán sặc máu mũi. Ngăn cản không cho chơi chung thì không được. Nhất là bây giờ có thêm thằng Xuân. Thằng này không như Đạo và Đán. Thằng Xuân đụng nó là nó bọp liền. Dĩ nhiên không phải con mình thì mình đâu làm được gì nên lúc nào cũng phải canh chừng cả.

I had way too much coffee on Friday. As a result, I could not sleep the entire night. My brain was rushing with so many thoughts as I was reflecting on my own live, being a parent in particular. We had been letting our kids loose a bit with screen time. Between the summer and vacation, we relaxed them a bit. To avoid fighting between the kids and controversy between the parents when we were vacationing together, we let Steve Jobs watched over them. For my own selfish reasons, I needed my own time to read.

Now they are getting addictive. The first thing they woke up and asked for was iPad. They got bored quickly and didn’t know what else to do when they didn’t have access to the iPad. They were angry and frustrated. Laying in bed at three in the morning, the guilt and the failure sunk in. What am I doing wrong? Am I, too, addicted to reading? I got up, hid the iPads, and gathered all the books to return to the library tomorrow. Let’s hit the restart button.

Saturday morning, they asked for the iPad as soon as they got out of bed—even before brushing their teeth. I explained to them that we needed to try something new. It was raining hard so we could not do anything outside. Xuân played with his Polar Express train. Đán was just laying around acted like a drug addict who need a fix. Đạo was grumpy, but picked up his book to read. Đạo loves to read, but only when he has no access to iPad. I wanted to take Đạo and Đán to the library, but Đán didn’t want to go so I just took Đạo. I returned all my books and Đạo picked up 8 books on Vietnam War. I realized that we hadn’t had much time alone so I decided to take him out to his favorite sushi restaurant. It was a nice spending time with just one kid. No fighting and no arguing. My wife texted me to buy lunch home because we lost powered.

When we got home, Xuân already fell asleep. Đán ate all the sushi and Miso soup I brought home for him. The rain was getting harder. I decided to take them to Flight Trampoline, which they had asked a couple days earlier. They jumped for two hours and made some new friends. It was also the first time for a while that their cousin didn’t come along. I don’t mind the cousin comes along, but for some reasons, they always have conflicts when the three go together. In any rate, at the end of the day, they were tired out and went to bed without asking for the iPad.

Sunday morning we got up, had breakfast, and took them to the swimming pool. Đạo and Đán can swim on their own. I just had to watch Xuân. Then we went for lunch and ice cream. The rain picked up again. I drove home, dropped off Xuân, picked up the cousin for Taekwondo. Words exchanged and verbal fight began. It is time to separate them again.

After eating dinner, taking bath, and brushing our teeth, I asked Đạo and Đán to see if the wanted to see The Vietnam War by Ken Burns and Lynn Novick. These kids love shooting games; therefore, they also love a film about the war. We finished the first episode. It will be our screen time together for the next week or so.

I am not sure if I will take their iPad away for good or just for temporary. I still need to figure out the solution. Đạo reads more books when he’s not on the iPad. Đán still needs to figure out what to do without it. Xuân had begun asking for it whenever his one-year old cousin has one on. It is a challenge when other kids have access to the iPad. Xuân doesn’t quite understand it yet and it is hard to explain to him why he shouldn’t have it. Đạo and Đán already know why.

I am a shitting parent. I don’t have hard, consistent rules. I bend them whenever I feel I have made a mistake. I don’t want to control them, but I still have my responsibility as a parent. After Đạo and Đán spending a day at work with me on Friday, which they did their homework, ran around the playground, ate lunch at Eden Center, and took a nap, Đạo asked me, “Did your dad do these with you when you were a kid?” He caught me off guard, but my answer was no. We did not have too much time together. My dad was always away. I only saw him a few times a month. His respond was, “Oh!”

This ranting is way too long as I am trying to get back to free writing.

Lúc trước đám nhỏ cãi nhau khiến người lớn mất lòng. Tôi đề nghị cho chúng nó tạm tách ra một thời gian nhưng bà xã không đồng ý. Hai vợ chồng cãi nhau vì vợ vu khống tôi chia rẽ tụi nó. Thế là cho chúng nọ tiếp tục gặp.

Giờ đây tôi không chỉ trông con mình mà luôn cả thằng cháu. Đi học bơi tôi đón rồi tắm luôn cho tụi nó. Đi học võ cũng tôi đưa đón. Đi học tiếng Việt cũng tôi đón đưa. Thậm chí ngày cuối tuần cũng giao phó luôn cho tôi.

Thế là bây giờ thêm một thằng con theo. Thôi kệ dù sao cũng là cháu biết làm sao bây giờ.

As we got into our car. The conversation began:

Dad: Would you like chocolate or chips?
Xuân: I want chocolate.
Dad: Good choice, Xuân. Here you go.
Xuân: Thanks daddy. Chips later.
Dad: What? [Hell no!]

As we were driving, Xuân complained:

Xuân: Daddy, the sun’s in my eyes.
Dad: You can use your hands to cover your eyes.
Xuân: No, go away. You stupid sun.
Dad: What? [Dude, you are two years old].

KJ Dell’Antonia:

Everything gets so much easier when we accept that our job as parents isn’t to eliminate conflict but to mitigate its effects. Unfortunately, it’s easy to get that wrong, too. Parents often view our role in managing disputes as an either-or proposition: intervene or ignore.

Either “good parents know that children need to be taught how to resolve conflict” (intervene) or “good parents know that conflict is about parental attention, and so they let children figure it out for themselves” (ignore). In theory, all you have to do is decide which kind of “good parent” you are.

In practice there’s a continuum. Parents intervene by teaching children strategies for working things out, and then ignore by stepping back to allow them to apply what they’ve learned.

I am struggling with the constant fights between Đạo and Đán. Intervening them drives me nuts because I constantly have to involve. Ignoring them is hard. The fight would escalate.