TW20 has a work-family balance that is enviable–a flexible work schedule, an ability to bring her children to work if needed, and a husband who cooks and does more household work than herself. Yet when I asked her,

If you had to give advice to a younger version of yourself (before having children), what advice would you give?

She answered,

Don’t have children.

My eyes widened. She went on to say that she is having conflicts with her children, now ages 6 and 7, and often feels frustrated with them. Moreover, her life is no longer her own. If she feels like shopping, she cannot just go out. Her happy life without children is now replaced with no freedom and constant exasperation.

She was being tongue-in-cheek, but her response reminded me, too, of those children moments of utter misery. I have bad memories of watching hours of Thomas the Train with my first child. The trains, which all looked alike, talked so slowly. I also remember a bad game of Candy Land–my son began to realize that his friend was winning and then threw an ear-splitting crying tantrum making the friend cry, too, just as the friend’s dad knocked on the door. Not only had I felt incredible boredom playing this game, I now felt hugely embarrassed in my ability to care for the children. Then, when you think you’ve got children figured out, they grow into another phase and you can become frustrated with a whole new set of issues.

I am reminded TW3’s theme about struggle as a basis for growing competence. TW3 noted that because her husband returned to work within a week of her giving birth, she was the one that gained the confidence and competence to care for their baby. As TW19 grew her family from one child to four, she learned to drive a bigger car (a big deal in Taipei with mopeds zipping in and out of car lanes, cyclists and pedestrians to contend with, and parallel parking in tight places). In addition, if initially, TW19 worried about taking her children out (what if one of them ran off into danger?), she could now handle her gaggle of kids.

The above TW20 also noted the ability to emotionally mature in care work. Care work brought back memories of her own childhood–specifically, the deficiencies of her parents and the injuries she felt by her parents’ actions. Long hours in the garment industry left her parents only the ability to provide basic material care. By emphasizing emotional connection and guidance in raising her own children, TW20 found that she could work through her perceived deficiencies of her parents, and in the process, heal herself. Another working mother, TW5, also noted how she had very little connection with her parents who worked long hours as vegetable vendors, and as an eight-year-old, she rode a motorbike to school. Having felt deprived of her childhood, she wants to give that to her children.

TW7 noted that her advice to her younger self would have been different had I asked her six years ago when she was caring for a baby and a four year old. She would have said,

Don’t marry early.

Go back into the workforce and be responsible.

Look after your own self-interest.

Yet in working through her struggles, which entailed stepping out of the workforce, pursuing a degree in a career that aligned with her values, and feeling tremendous guilt about work-family balance throughout this time, TW7 noted that her world today is larger, more generous, and more satisfying. Her advice to her younger self today is that it is important to trust her life path and accept the good and bad.

Giving birth to a child is a moment of crisis–a new full time job crops up and you cannot slack off and let the baby die. Such a challenge, for better or worse, forces the working mom to do/learn/emote more than she had done before.

The Taiwanese government has a vested interest in supporting working mothers in Taiwan–the country has one of the lowest fertility rates in the world. Yet, while throwing money at the problem certainly helps, it cannot be the full solution. Let me think about this in the next post.

In the mean time, let me end with this. My second child developed an interest in PJ Mask, another slow-moving show about characters wearing capes in primary colors. I did not watch that show with her nor did I play preschool board games with her. Instead, when she got older, we watched shows and played games that captivated both of us.