Becoming a Tiger Mom

If there is a parenting title I never thought I’d have, it would be “Tiger Mom.” The absolute opposite of what that title requires, I am borderline inexcusably lax, both in my parenting and in my schooling of my children. We float upon the gentle stream of Education, picking knowledge like wildflowers along its lush, green banks. The exclamation of “Math is impossible!” garnished with tears is met with, “Let’s have some hot chocolate and revisit this equation in a little while.” When I’m not losing my cool because one can only take so much bickering, I exist among the chaos of fighting sisters, maintaining the belief that they are problem solving and learning to either work out, or live peaceably with, their differences. Punctuated by Nature Days, Baking Days, Handicraft Days, and waterfalls of youth novels read aloud, our heavy schooling often happens in the nook & cranny hours, and each subject usually includes a snack. If we begin our history lesson on the couch, but someone gets hungry, we migrate to where the brownies are just being taken from the oven. If we begin a Latin roots lesson in the kitchen, but the sun is looking extra sparkly through the window, we will pack up our books and move outside. Being homeschoolers, we are not too shabby with birds, bugs, and plants, thanks to all the time spent sitting in trees with various field guides and binoculars. And, honestly, an unbelievable amount of our schooling over the years has taken place in the bathroom, accompanying/waiting on whoever has been the smallest member of the family at the time.

No, for certain, a Tiger Mom I am not. And yet—here I am with that exact title! Because—BECAUSE! Because, somehow, the little river tour of knowledge that I have taken with my daughters has established within them a love of learning and a garden of academic success. You won’t be surprised to hear that I take very little credit for that success, but that only enhances my pride in the fact that my oldest daughter just this week accepted a very fine offer at a small liberal arts college here in our state, where their school mascot is THE TIGERS. It’s that mascot that has given me my shiny new title of Tiger Mom, with a very different connotation than what first comes to mind.

Coming to this higher education decision was a JOURNEY, let me tell you. Anja started her college search with one very specific school in mind (Cornell College in Iowa) so last year we visited, and while I loved it, she came away with the feeling that it just wasn’t right. A disappointment after such high hopes! (But worth the trip to Iowa—I LOVED EASTERN IOWA! Easily one of the most beautiful places I’ve been, it’s like a better version of Indiana. So green and rolling! I loved it!) She essentially began her college search anew after that trip, and while every school she looked into sounded great, and accepted her, nothing quite felt like “the one.”

Funnily, the last two contenders were both ones that at the start had deliberately been kept from consideration. The first was the large state university local to us—Purdue. A renowned school! Familiar and a part of her entire life, as well as a great education, it was a little TOO close to home, and the idea of being one among 40,000 students intimidated her. Still, the fact that they offer everything she could want academically was a huge draw.

The other contending school was neglected for a totally ridiculous reason, let me tell you. So, my husband, Martin, went to an all boys college called Wabash College, where he and his fraternity brothers threw chicken tenders at each other. Oh, I could go on about “Martin as a college boy.” SHUDDER. (I cannot believe he makes fun of me now for eating soy protein bars and edamame when his college diet consisted of chicken nuggets and weed. And it doesn’t take a deep thinker to know what he hydrated with. Ugh!) In any case, this small liberal arts college he attended had a deep, DEEP rivalry with a nearby (coed) small liberal arts college. So deep, in fact, that Anja did not think she was “allowed” to apply to it! When this came to light, I disallowed any such rivalry talk in my home; she applied, was accepted with an affordable financial aid package, and Martin had to swallow his bias and attend a college tour and later a lecture with her at his rival campus.

She made her decision to go to college there, and I bought Martin a hat at their bookstore right away.

And so, here we are. All these baskets of school notebooks, all these shelves of field guides and nature journals, filled-up math and science workbooks, all these lessons and discussions and poems and copywork pages… what began with me holding her hand inside mine to form the alphabet has somehow led us to buying baseball caps in the bookstore of “our daughter’s college.”

And the cool thing about stupid young college boys growing up into fine men is that Martin is REALLY proud to wear that hat.

(As proud as I am to call myself a “Tiger Mom!”)

END NOTE: Martin would like to let everyone know that in 1912 Wabash won the Monon Bell game against DePauw 62-0. And if you are inclined to ask, as I was, “Is that the last time they won?” let me just tell you, that is the wrong question.