So, Tell Me the Rules Again

Society's rules so often dictate my life. (Some of us are pretending to be normal.) If it weren't culturally apropos, my leg hair would grow without fear. I would love to dance in the grocery store. How many times have I restrained myself from hugging a total stranger because they exhibited exceptional eccentric behavior? Wouldn't you like to know?

In my own experience, this cultural pressure extends even more to parenting. All of a sudden, passersby voice a wealth of personal advice. How do they know so much more than me? Some strange lady on the subway says that my child is cold so I better cover her up. At a company party, women I've just met scorn a mother for giving her one and a half year-old a bottle. In their eyes, the kid is too old for such baby nonsense.

Living the middle-class suburban lifestyle has had me rather pinned down. Well, here comes the glory part:

My family has saved our pennies and dimes, sold our worldly possessions (sans a few stuffed suitcases), and we're re-locating to China. Can I get some rules here on how to deal with a two year-old and a young marriage when moving to Asia? Actually, scratch that request. I am thrilled to make up my own rules. Don't get me wrong, I'm reading travel books and parenting books with philosophies combined, but no Chinese lady on a subway is going to tell me anything... at least nothing that I'll understand!