SOME Chinese parents are finding it increasingly difficult to deal with their children. But a psychologist says doting parents need to stop micromanaging their children and give them space to pursue their own interests. Wang Jie reports.

There is an old Chinese saying - "some kids repay their parents and some bother them for eternity."

Usually when a newborn joins a family, he or she brings wonder, surprise, happiness and laughter. But raising a child also requires a great deal of patience and efforts as they grow and mature into adults.

"I clearly remember the first time when I saw my son," says Luo Xuqing, a 40-something editor at a local newspaper. "I was so excited to be a mother. But today, if I had another choice, I would choose not to be a mother."

Luo is one of the parents who find their children difficult to deal with. It seems to be endless problems - health conditions, character, education and later marriage and grandchildren - following them.

"In my eyes, the role of a mother is the most challenging job in the world," says Rebecca Wu, a mother of a 10-year-old boy. "The funniest thing is that you can never quit it."

Both Wu and Luo say that education is their biggest headache.

Luo says she has recently wracked her brains to find a university in the United States for her son, whose scores are too poor to qualify for the entrance examination for universities in China.

"Someone recommended a community university in the States since it doesn't have much requirements," she says.

However, tuition is expensive, plus there is living costs and Luo worries that in the end her son will end up with an "unqualified certificate."

"But at least he would have a university diploma, then I could use my connections to find him a job here in China," Luo says. "Otherwise he would be a 'blue-collar' worker and I am sure that he can't endure such hard labor."

Wu's problem is the opposite. She says her son studies too hard.

"He is so mature for his age," Wu says. "We don't want to load too much pressure on him, yet he asks us to send him to different training classes after school such as Olympic Mathematics, English and writing. We have to beg him to do some sports activities or enjoy some entertainment as we want him to see there is more to life than being a bookworm."

Yet no one is born perfect and every child has his or her imperfections, as do parents.

Feng Yalan, a psychological consultant, says parents these days obsess over too many things.

"Today all the hope and pressures are cast on the kids, which is quite abnormal," Feng says. "Parents are especially keen on every small detail, as if these details will decide the future of their kids. I met several 'problem teenagers.' Yet as I said before, there are no problem kids, only problem parents. The problem found in kids is actually a reflection of their parents."

Today when a child is born, the concern and care from his or her parents and grandparents is strong and heavy.

But the situation was totally different several decades ago.

Cui Juying, 75, has two daughters and two sons and sees how different parents are compared with when he raised his kids.

"To tell you the truth, I am not so comfortable with how my daughter-in-law is raising my grandson," Cui says. "She is too particular about every detail. For example, all his clothes should be hand-washed with one particular brand of soap. If I stuck to these principles, how could I raise up my four kids."

Others from the same generation agree.

"When I was young, I was a working mother," says Tan Wenying, a 65-year-old retired teacher. "At that time, we didn't have diapers, a washing machine, a milk heater or a bottle sterilizer. Now I have so many things to do when taking care of my 3-month-old granddaughter."

Society has changed and economic conditions have improved greatly, but there is tension between parents and grandparents, who often do the bulk of the child-raising so the parents can focus on work.

Sophie Wu, a 30-something white-collar worker, says she has problems with her mother-in-law.

"I especially hate to hear when my mother-in-law starts saying 'in the past, we did ...' but we are not living in the past," Wu says. "When I was in primary school, I walked home from school and my parents never picked me up. But today, there are so many vehicles on the street plus those freaks, how can I not worry? After all, I only have one daughter."

Unwittingly, China's family planning policy adds to the burden.

Most parents naturally want the best - everything from the best education, health care and living surroundings - for their children, but this obsession can do more harm than good.

With such a dense population the best schools and hospitals, for example, can only admit so many kids or treat so many patients.

More money, more security?

The competition leads parents to purchasing apartments near prestigious schools or kindergartens and to queue up for first-class pediatric hospitals.

"Have you ever been to a pediatric hospital in Shanghai during the middle of the night?" asks Christine Wu, a mother of a four-year-old boy. "It is a nightmare. Even if the hospital is filled with parents and kids, no parents will take their kids to other hospitals."

Pan Zhixing, a father of a high-school daughter, says: "I always tell my friends that problems solved by money can't be called a problem. Sometimes money can't buy all the connections you need for your kid."

Consequently this has led to a society where "your father or even your grandfather counts."

In an era where traditional values and ethics seem to be on the decline, earning more money seemingly makes people feel more secure. This means some parents spend too much time at work and not enough time at home with their children.

"I work harder so that my kid might not need to do the same in the future," says Jay Wu, a father of a six-year-old boy. "I want him to be happy, but happiness costs. That is what I have sacrificed."

Some parents think the only way for their child to have a good future is to obtain as many certificates as possible to prove they are better than other kids.

Li Suwen, a mother of a fifth-grade daughter, believes the certificates are a fair evaluation.

"At least it is fair for the kids. China is a big country with a big population, a certificate probably is the best and fairest way to judge the overall ability of a kid," Li says.

In the eyes of most parents, the top kindergarten leads to the top primary school, then the best high-school and eventually the best university - a path that supposedly guarantees a bright future.

Any deviation is an unpardonable mistake both for the child and parents.

However, the frustration and pain parents feel when a child "fails" is because the kid didn't follow the script written for them.

Psychologist Feng says this is "unhealthy."

"Some parents have plans for their kids even though the kids have their own interests and passion, which inevitably results in conflicts and struggles," Feng says. "Why can't Chinese parents treat their children as their equals instead of their subordinates?

"Always remember: In the long run, a good character and healthy state of mind are more important for a kid than high test scores. Today society uses only one standard to judge a person - money and status - few care about the inner feelings of the kid," she says.

Wang Shuo, one of China's best-selling authors, once said: "I despise the word 'success.' In my eyes, success today only means money and showing off how much money you have. Damn silly! I let my daughter do whatever pleases her."

Some parents do understand that they can't do everything for their child, but it's hard to step back.

"I try to persuade myself that I can't do everything for my daughter for her whole life," says Sophie Zhang, a consultant. "Otherwise I would not be myself, I would only be the mother of my daughter. That's not the meaning of me and her on this earth."