21/06/2025
“Help, I’m a Dad (And My Mother-in-Law Runs the House): A Westerner’s Guide to Surviving Fatherhood in Vietnam”
For the next few days I will share a guide on how to survive with mother in law. As a western Dad, has a western Mom and generally on mom dealing with MIL,
Now we’re entering peak comedy zone: being a Western dad living in Vietnam, expecting your first baby with a Vietnamese wife… and sharing a home with your Vietnamese mother-in-law.
It’s like a buddy sitcom, a travel documentary, and a survival show rolled into one. Let’s go with a warm, funny voice — think: slightly confused, well-meaning husband trying his best not to get kicked out of the house.
So… you married a Vietnamese woman. You're about to have your first baby. You thought the biggest challenge would be learning how to hold a newborn without looking like you're diffusing a bomb.
Wrong.
The real boss battle? Living with your Vietnamese mother-in-law.
🚧1. You Are Not the Father — She Is.
At least, that’s what it feels like.
Yes, biologically, you contributed. But in this house? You're the cute assistant. She’s calling the shots:
🍼Feeding schedule? Check.
🌡️Bathwater temperature? Check.
🧠What the baby wears, eats, hears, smells, and dreams about? Check.
You: “I think he’s hungry.”
Her (in Vietnamese): "He’s sleepy. I can tell from his eyebrows."
Just nod. You are now background furniture. 😅
🚧2. Confinement Month: Nobody Told Me I’d Be Confined Too 🔐🔒
The 30-day "ở cữ" tradition kicks in. Your wife can’t shower. No fans. No cold drinks.
You: “Want me to get you a smoothie, babe?”
Mother-in-law (emerging from nowhere): “SMOOTHIE?! You want her to get a stomach ache for the next 10 years?”
Suddenly, you’re the outsider trying to smuggle a yogurt into a North Korean prison. Just eat your rice. In silence.
🚧3. You Will Be Re-trained
Thought you knew how to change a diaper? Wrong.
Thought your baby could sleep in a cot? Foolish.
Thought socks weren’t necessary during a heatwave? Barbaric.
She will correct you gently. Or loudly. Sometimes through your wife. Sometimes by just redoing whatever you just did while shaking her head.
🚧4. Language Barrier? Nah. Guilt Is Universal
She may not speak English fluently, but disappointment translates perfectly.
Slight sigh = “You’re holding him wrong.”
Bigger sigh = “You forgot the hot water bottle again.”
Silent stare = “Your ancestors are ashamed of your diaper-folding technique.”
When in doubt, just say “Dạ, mẹ oi” and back away slowly.
🚧5. You’re the Foreigner, But She’s the Alien
You’re in a land of baby folklore.
Babies can’t go outside at night or evil spirits will follow.
Wind causes colic.
If the baby smiles while sleeping, an angel is playing with them. (Sweet, until she blames the angel for diaper rash.)
You're tempted to fact-check everything on Google. Don't. Google have no rights in this fight.
🚧6. Silver Lining: You Basically Got a Free Nanny
Yes, she may steam the baby with herbs at 5 a.m.
Yes, she may judge your every move.
But she’ll also:
Rock the baby for hours.
Cook food while you fumble with formula.
Handle scary newborn coughs like a boss.
At 3 a.m., when the baby is screaming and you’re a walking zombie, guess who’s already up making mung bean porridge?
🚧Final Words of (Survival) Wisdom:
Embrace the chaos.
Accept the unsolicited advice like it’s a love language.
Hide snacks.
Let your wife translate selectively — you don’t need to know everything she says about you.
And remember: this is a uniquely beautiful (and slightly insane) experience.
One day, your baby will grow up speaking both languages — and probably siding with Bà Nội. And you? You’ll be the slightly confused but deeply proud foreign dad who somehow survived it all.