I read a review of Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother by Amy Chua. You can read some of her philosophy of rearing children in this essay that appeared in the Wall Street Journal several weeks ago.
My children are grown, so I've had my shot at motherhood. This past weekend we celebrated GrandGirl's birthday. She's in kindergarten. Among her gifts was a set of games. She wanted me to play with her so we looked in the box. Chinese checkers -- I used to enjoy playing that. Pick Up Sticks -- I knew that one, too. She suggested we try chess.
I know next to nothing about chess. I told her the names of the pieces and I showed her how to line them up. The bishop moves like so, the rook like so. I looked at the simple instructions to get the knight move. After pushing a couple of pawns around, GrandGirl wasn't too interested in what the rules said. I'd take one of her pieces and she'd leap around and take one of mine. And then she invented a new rule. When I captured one of her pieces -- which she said had to be placed alongside the board where she sat -- she'd take her rook and have it whisper to the captured piece, "Get back in the game."
I could have demanded that we play by the rules so she could "learn" chess. But instead I just enjoyed her approach. "Get back in the game." A good life lesson, in my book.
My children are grown, so I've had my shot at motherhood. This past weekend we celebrated GrandGirl's birthday. She's in kindergarten. Among her gifts was a set of games. She wanted me to play with her so we looked in the box. Chinese checkers -- I used to enjoy playing that. Pick Up Sticks -- I knew that one, too. She suggested we try chess.
I know next to nothing about chess. I told her the names of the pieces and I showed her how to line them up. The bishop moves like so, the rook like so. I looked at the simple instructions to get the knight move. After pushing a couple of pawns around, GrandGirl wasn't too interested in what the rules said. I'd take one of her pieces and she'd leap around and take one of mine. And then she invented a new rule. When I captured one of her pieces -- which she said had to be placed alongside the board where she sat -- she'd take her rook and have it whisper to the captured piece, "Get back in the game."
I could have demanded that we play by the rules so she could "learn" chess. But instead I just enjoyed her approach. "Get back in the game." A good life lesson, in my book.