Hong Kong: The Patience of Moms

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Everyone says that patience is learned when you become a mom and that it evolves with the child’s age.

It starts right away during the hours of labor torture. When doctors tell you to breathe and not to contract the belly, that eventually will pass, it’s just a couple of hours (or days for the less fortunate ones) that you are not dying, you are giving birth to a child. Then breathe, yell, think the worst things about your husband who did this to you, hate the midwife, turn off the light, switch on the light, walk, lie down, send to hell the nurse who try to let you drink a juice, but I recommend you, be patient.

Than a new life starts, yours is done. The nights spent walking in the cold and dark house with the baby in yours arms that does not want to sleep and maybe even with the colic (Saint Patience the colic!).

The book, always the same, read and reread 100 times a day, with the smile, with different voices, counting how many flowers there are on the front page, how many lumps in the second, how many damn, sorry I mean how many wonderful little mushrooms on the third. They were at least hallucinogenic…




The vegetables, first hidden in the shredded soups, then in the heart shaped meatballs, then sliced in the form of a flower, then grated with the specially and expensive crafted tool bought on Amazon that as it slices it is filling the food with sparkles, probably carcinogenic, but very cool. Vegetables everywhere, carrots ambushed in the napkin, spinach thrown on the wall, green peas scattered around the plate so they seem less.




The playground and the swing. Hours and hours spent under the sun pushing the swing. At first you are happy, mother/child activity, your ears are filled with laughter and your heart with joy. But the sun has lowered to a degree, just enough to let a sunbeam reflect on the metal of the slide, bounce off the monkey bar, traps your pupils without sunglasses and sticks directly into your brain cornea leading to a Migraine attack. It is incredibly hot. You start sweating.

“Sweetheart aren’t you tired? Are you thirsty?”


At the third hour you hate, hate, hate, the swing. But you are full of patience, you are a mom. A beautiful, happy, smiling, super-patient mom.

I could go on for days to write about moments of infinite patience given to my little girls, but today I found out that a mother does not learn what PATIENCE truly means until the princess’ heads are infested with lice.

My love story with them begins two months ago when I found the first hateful animal to walk on the super thick, blond, curly and long hair of my daughter. But I’m a calm mom, I’m not afraid of shocking stories from other moms, I’m pragmatic, I’m peaceful. I buy a shampoo with the essential oils and a high-quality metal lice comb. I treat the hair as instructed on the box, combing and removing dead lice and eggs, changing linens and pillow, and going to bed serenely and quietly.

 “Well they all bitch and moan in terror but at the end it’s not so terrible.”

 After a week, I repeat the treatment girls no longer scratch and I feel better than other hysterical mothers on average. So many stories for nothing.

As for the schedule of licking the lice in five steps, after 10 days I start Emma’s head check. I started from the nape for practicality and after half an hour I go through only 1/10th of her thick, blond, curly, long hair and find something like 100 eggs.

No panic, I’m a calm, peaceful, pragmatic mom. I bring Emma to the hairdresser, we start shortening her thick, blond, curly and long hair. I find online some suggestion about lice and dip the combs in heated vinegar that should melt the glue with which the eggs are stuck to the hair. I rewash all the sheets and pillowcases at more than 60 degrees. To keep my peace of mind I also steam the mattresses and pillows up to 100 degrees. I had definitely underestimated the lice, but now I’m quiet, I’ve exterminated them for sure.

Seven days pass. Time for the next treatment. The heads are full of eggs and I start scratching myself. I read, study, inform myself, practically I graduate in pediculosis. The Pediculs Humanus, in layman’s term called lice, have a life-cycle of about 40 days. They need 8 days because the nit (egg) is mature and the first stage of louse are born, another 7 days because the louse grows and reaches the adult dimension, and then four weeks in which the Pediculs Humanis celebrate making orgies of blood and sex in the head.

An adult louse does this:

 “…feeds on blood that aspires to the scalp, causing itching, while the lice secures a substance that has the property of anesthetizing the skin so as not to annoy the host organism and limit it So any adverse reaction (smart, A/N). The louse also injects an anticoagulant substance that makes the blood fluid during sucking that lasts for several hours; The sucked amount is about 1 mg, a magnitude greater than the mass of the parasite. The louse performs the operation described twice a day and for the duration of his life. In a month, every female, lying about 10 nits a day, can replicate in a total descendants of about 45,000 individuals, after two months they will reach an impressive number of 6,750,000. “

Anyway, I’m a calm, peaceful, pragmatic mom. After all I am a yoga teacher for God sake! Below you’ll find a photo of me, smiling, while quietly exterminating, I mean to gently remove the 6,750,000 nits from my daughter’s head.


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