A Day in the Life of a Mother Accompanying Her Child's Studies：Four

My daughter and I do have our disagreements. She has a penchant for unhealthy dishes, which I disapprove of. When I refrain from cooking them for her, she gets upset. There are times when she won't even touch the meals I've prepared. Once, when my husband visited, I had already cooked a meal, but she insisted on having "luosifen" (a type of snail rice noodle) and wanted to prepare it herself. Luosifen isn't something that can be cooked quickly, and it felt like a waste of time. Once ready, she barely took two bites, complaining it was too hot, and then rushed off to school.

My husband remained silent at the moment but reprimanded her when she returned in the evening. He said, "Your mother is here, cooking and caring for you, and this is how you treat her? If it were me, I would've slapped you by now. She's your mother, not your servant. I rarely upset her, yet you manage to. Look at her, her hair has turned white from all the stress you've caused. She has high blood pressure; what if you upset her to the point of something serious?" She just kept her head down, not uttering a word.

When my husband scolds her, she feels guilty. She would then hug me tightly, apologizing and promising not to repeat her mistakes. Overall, my daughter is quite obedient.

I'm not particularly thrilled with her academic performance. Sometimes, when she takes a break, she plays with my phone. I often remark, "If only you were as enthusiastic about your studies as you are with this phone."

Before she decided to retake the year, I suggested that she consider attending a polytechnic, given the lesser pressure. She refused. I then told her to seize this opportunity and have no regrets. Failing to get into a university isn't the end of the world. She often worries about not making it, but I reassure her, pointing out that even those selling phones can earn thousands a month. If everyone went to university, who would do the manual jobs? Your grandmother couldn't read a single word, yet she lived a full life, didn't she?

I maintain a calm demeanor and always remind her that her health is paramount. She once remarked that my aspirations for her weren't very high. I responded, "How high do you think they should be?"

My daughter isn't very expressive, but she shows her feelings through her actions.

On March 7th, the day before International Women's Day, our dance teacher gave each of us a flower. My daughter remembered this gesture. The next day, March 8th, she skipped her lunch to buy a drink, some kind of milk tea, costing over ten yuan. She also bought a rose for 15 yuan. I was waiting for her at the entrance, wondering why she was taking so long.

Back when we were at home, during occasions like Mother's Day, she would dash to the local convenience store to buy a slightly larger cupcake for me. She'd say, "This is the best I can do," and then hug me, wishing, "Happy Mother's Day, Mom! You've worked so hard!" She would only express her feelings during such moments and remain reticent otherwise. Sometimes, when I pick her up in the evenings, if she's exhausted, she'd lean on my shoulder, asking, "Stay still, let me hug you for a bit.

Under the strict supervisory education system, the relationship between children and their parents has become increasingly tense. The constant pressure to perform academically, combined with the high expectations set by parents, often leads to a rift in trust. Children, feeling the weight of these expectations, may perceive their parents as taskmasters rather than caregivers. On the other hand, parents, anxious about their child's future, might doubt their child's commitment to studies. This mutual distrust can overshadow the genuine love and concern that underpin the parent-child relationship, making open communication and understanding even more crucial in these challenging times.