The Kids Are Alright

6 minute read

Picture the scene: it's 8am, my son has upended his bowl of porridge on his head, my twins are fighting over a spoon and I'm cleaning cat sick off the floor. My husband, on his third cup of coffee, is standing in the corner muttering under his breath trying to remove a piece of Lego from the sole of his shoe.

Having children changes everything. EVERYTHING. Your furniture, your phone calls, your TV habits, your walls, your lady bits, your car. Children change the landscape, by bulldozing it. Of course, I knew my life would not be the same when I had children. I knew to expect the sleepless nights, the 150-nappy changes a week (we had twins closely followed by a third), endless worries, like would they electrocute themselves while I nipped to the bathroom or would they develop a taste for E-numbered foods as a result of my jelly-bribing techniques.

I often think being a parent is akin to being in a car with some really drunk friends; one may vomit, one may fall asleep on you, one might even start a fight and one is likely to be taking off their clothes and sticking their head out of the window and all the while, you’re trying to level the noise, the mayhem, and your inner escalating stress. Admittedly, I have resorted to watching Supernanny in an obvious attempt to absorb some constructive parenting skills but also to indulge my inner smugness since those ‘American’ kids are far worse behaved than mine (one actually set fire to his house, seriously).

But, other things about parenting are a complete surprise: overwhelming love that seems to grow every day, the ability to multi-task as I’ve never known before (although, I often wonder how well anything is actually being done), my wavering patience that only three children under two can test, their immunity to (their own) noise, their perfect skin, brilliant bed-hair, infectious laughs, how utterly different they all are despite two of them being twins and how wonderful that is, and how non-judgemental and forgiving children actually are.

The girls are now nearly ten and my son is eight and despite paying money for therapists to deliver answers to soul-searching questions, it is my pint-sized gurus that have offered some golden nuggets of advice that have long lingered with me.

Be present

My son recently announced that he was sad he hadn’t ‘seen’ me all day. A little puzzled, I reminded him that I had been at home all day in the same house as him to which he replied, quite rightly. “You’ve been here mum but not present so it feels like I haven’t seen you.” He used the word ‘present’ (he’s eight). It’s a word with big connotations but then, this is also a child who regularly muses on the reasons of the universe; he’s a deep thinker. At that moment it struck me, I am firefighting on a constant basis, and such is the peril of being a working mother. While making dinner, my brain is so often in combat work mode or I’m juggling several things at once – trying to respond to my daughter’s pleas to help her sew together a sock-tube dress for her doll while I reply to a work email or nodding as my son explains the ‘lava-acid laser’ on his Lego transformer while working out my to-do list. Last week we had a ‘game’ at the dinner table where everyone had to tell the other person what they think they could improve upon. When it came to me, they unanimously voted for using my phone less. “But it’s for work,” I replied, defensively, although deep down I knew they were right and sheepishly admitted it. Children live exclusively in the moment and unless you can join them right there, you will have missed the moment and quality time together.

Live the little things

I’m grateful for a lot in my life but I equally take a lot for granted. When we do things over and over, like the walk to school or to the local park, it tends to disappear from our consciousness. Psychologist Alison Gopnik talks about how children are tuned to learn as opposed to adults who already know a lot so if you take that same journey with your child it’s like ‘going for a walk with William Blake’ – there are dogs and cats in windows, gates and pretty flowers, cool cars, and ‘funny-looking’ chimneys, airplanes and kites. Today, while queuing outside a shop, I was impatiently thinking of how long it would take to get inside but my son was admiring the pretty yellow flowers and was positively apoplectic with excitement when he saw his name on the side of a truck. And while it can be frustrating when your nine-year-old feline-obsessed daughter chases yet another cat under a car, you see the world through the exploring eyes of a child which, let’s face it, is far more interesting.

Don’t take it personally

A friend, addled by conflicts with her 10-year-old, recently told me that she was practicing Teflon parenting. She was intent on ‘letting things go’ and not allowing her ego to get in the way of a disagreement. No mean feat when round ten of ‘put your shoes on’ or ‘no more screen time’ is still being met with a wall. The fierce conviction of a two-year-old or a ten-year-old can undoubtedly make you question your actions. Parents tend to be the dartboards because we’re easy targets but the great thing is their disappointment is fleeting. Life’s too short and adventurous for them to hold a grudge or sulk and there’s a great lesson in that: as adults, we parent with our egos and waste far too much time in petty disagreements and grudges that destroy precious time together.

Feel the fear

When I’m calling my daughter from the top of a very tall tree I forget that she didn’t lick it off a stone. I recall climbing with the same McGyver-style abandon when I was her age, never feeling the fear. As a parent I am the ‘cooler’, coming to rain on everyone’s parade and yet it’s our job to protect our kids. But we could still learn something from their determined march forward. A child's life feels limitless because they are not confined by fears of failure or humiliation. They haven't been beaten down, they haven't experienced failure. They embrace life and all it has to offer with open arms. When, in our transgression to adulthood, does that wonderful freedom and inhibition leave us I wonder. Or, more to the point, why do we allow fear the upper hand? One of my son’s favourite sayings is ‘conquer your fear or it will conquer you’ – this came after a bout of nightmares. I thought my husband had read it to him from some philosophical book but apparently, he’d heard it on an episode of Lego Ninjago…. I guess it’s the message that counts.

Play

Children are the best teachers for showing us how to have fun, if we pay attention. The pandemic proved we didn’t need a long-as-your-arm list of activities to keep ours active and entertained, they happily played for hours with things they found around the house. One day it was a cattery made from a cardboard box. Another day leftover yogurt tubs were assassin walkie-talkies. We recently watched the movie Yes Day. For those unfamiliar (brace yourself), parents have to say yes to children’s requests with the exception of puppies and dangerous/illegal activities. It was enough to give me palpitations but by the end of the movie, my resolve was weakening. “You have to be our servants for the day,” piped my daughter. Eh, that’s already taken, I reminded them. We settled for ice cream for breakfast, a camp out in the garden, screen time whenever they wanted, and a trip to the toy shop. It got me thinking about how often they hear the word ‘no’ and that by saying yes, they get some more of what they really want: me. I’ve trained myself to be so productive that I often feel I’ve lost my sense of play and it’s only when I see my husband rolling around on the floor behaving like a wild animal (and quite frankly an eejit) and indulging the kids’ fascination with toilet humour that I realise they love a bit of slapstick fun, and that I do too. So, you may as well get down on the floor with them. Those moments are to be treasured, because in a few years those smiling faces will likely change to disapproval at your inability to act your age.

Be yourself

Watching my kids select an outfit is enough to know they really don’t care what I or anybody else thinks. There have been days when I hesitate opening the front door (the days of bags on heads, Halloween tights and orange wellies). “Not everything that suits you suits me, you know,” my son said one day. “I can do a lot of things you can’t, like sleep with my eyes open.” Kids have the ability to honour their talents and ignore the critics, as should we; we are good and great just the way we are…