I am trying to tell you that I liked the book. Should I let the child have bottle? Should I start diaper training as soon as she turns 1? Should I ignore the tantrum? Should I force her to finish the puzzle first? Every small decision from the binky to the college application is grey, for a mother cannot predict for sure what result she would get for saying “yes” or “no” to the child. We might judge the decisions to be black or white, but the truth is that everything that a mother does is grey. With such constrictions, mothers try making the best decision they can. More distressing is the mental and emotional agony that a mother goes through. Persistent physical labor is just one part of that challenge. One thing that motherhood has taught me is that life of a mother is extremely challenging. Where did her Chinese parenting lead her daughters living in the western culture? That’s for you to read! However, she held the leash tight, and even tighter whenever required. Living in the U.S., it was difficult for her to ward of the western influence her children were getting. She starts with the premise that Western parenting style and Chinese parenting style are poles apart with Western bending more towards individuality and laidback attitude while Chinese being all about strong work habits and stringency at best. But instead, it’s about a bitter clash of cultures and a fleeting taste of glory.”īattle Hymn of the Tiger Mother is Amy Chua’s a little provocative and a little funny memoir of how she raised her two daughters the strict Chinese way. This was supposed to be a story of how Chinese parents are better at raising kids than Western ones. “This is a story about a mother, two daughters, and two dogs. Here’s a Mother’s Review of the Battle Hymn of The Tiger Mother by Amy Chua, the first book I read then. But 6 months was enough for me to read 3 books – Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, Between a Rock and a Hard Place and The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. She would stop drinking and instead stare at the pages of the book. After that, even the slightest sound of a page flipping used to distract her. What better can I give her at this time! Alas, my joys of reading and breastfeeding lasted only till Little B turned 6 months old. I felt along with all the fats, carbohydrates and antibodies, it was also the thoughts, predicaments and resolutions of the author that I was passing on to Little B. There is something so empowering about reading a book while breastfeeding.

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Battle hymn of the tiger