Mental
Health Warning, this is a rambling lament. It's about parenting. Read it at
your own risk. So, if you are sufficiently vaccinated, here goes.
I'm quite a hands-off parent. And I am speaking only for myself. Except for
their studies, I leave them largely alone. Even for their studies, I leave the
hard part to my wife, that is, sitting them down and making sure they do their
homework. Although I am known as a stern and stiff-necked father, as compared
to my wife (who can really have endless childlike fun with them), I do have my
outrageous moments with them once in a while. All in all, at 45, and being a
father of three children, I am trying my best to raise my children with the
usual pitfalls (you can read my previous posts
about how I often fail them and myself).
Now, here comes the relevant part of this
post. Recently, my children played with my friends' children, and as
predictable as the sun and the rain, the children broke into some mischievous
exchanges. Then, there were the childish taunting and the tit-for-tat of i-hit-you-and-you-hit-me-back. The
aftermath of that was the usual teary complaints to the parents.
As a general rule, when my children complain
to me, I would tell them to let it go (wait, that sounds frighteningly
familiar). At times, I would wait till we get home and then remind them that
this is part and parcel of growing up. I'd also tell them to forgive and forget
because children will be children and their parents will deal with them
accordingly, and in their own ways. We have to trust and respect that.
Now, when my children are clearly at fault, my
wife would step in and demand that he or she apologizes directly and
immediately. Thereafter, I will let it go and let it be (hey, that's another
familiar chorus). So, between let it go and let it be, I often tell my children
that there is ironically no difference between children's tit-for-tat and the
adults' arguments, that is, the heated emotions and motives are largely the
same, except that adults can be more affected by it. The innocence of a child
somehow seems to endow them with this magical capacity to forget about the
offence almost immediately. Sadly, it is often the adults who will get more
philosophically vindictive about it. As such, letting it go and letting it be
can be a struggle for some.
Well, maybe I am different. I tend to let the
matter go and then deal with it at a later date (in another way). For example, I regularly jog with my son on the
weekends and I use these private one-to-one
moments to talk to him and to allow him to share with me how he feels. I am
currently sharing with him the golden rule of doing-unto-others. I don't expect
him to understand the whole shebang of it but at least he was able to cite
examples of how to treat people applying the golden rule. Baby steps I say, baby steps. As we progress, I intend to advance
the lesson with Jesus' Sermon on the Mount, and probably sprinkle some basic
utilitarianism here and there. Good luck
with that, I know. As they say, the greater good is often the greater
confusion (that I know too). But I have digressed (...and this was supposed to be my ramblings!)
So, that morning, something unexpected
happened. Although there were the usual teary complaints of this-and-that and the children
apologized to both the parents and each other, and returned to their play and
said their hearty goodbyes, that night I received a very surprising message
from one of the parents. It was a long message and the contents of which is
irrelevant here. But the point is that the parent seemed very affected and I
was speechless, stunned.
Maybe my perception needed more attuning (to
grassroot reality), but I honestly thought the hatchet had been buried right
after the children re-engaged and played with each other, even more
boisterously, that morning. In fact, before the children left, they traded some
childish jokes about a hole in the shoe and laughed their way to their parents.
We also repeatedly said our goodbyes and that was that. It was perceptively the
most amicable departure and we were even looking forward to the next
meeting.
So, you can imagine my shock with that message, which has to do with
parental neglect.
This unfortunate episode kept me thinking
about us parents (and I am specifically veering away from that message). I know
we love our children. I know we want the best for them. In fact, we also
believe our children and trust that they are decent, innocent and lovely
creatures from our passionate loins. And our love is definitely not the issue
here (often the issue is the lack of love).
So, my question is: why is it that when it comes to our children we tend to act in a manner
that we would readily disavow if the same situation were to present itself to
us for intervention when we were without children (or when it is other people's
children)? In other words, why are we so vendatta-ish when we pursue the so-called justice for our own flesh
and blood and are less so when it comes to other people’s children? (my god, we could even be objective and magnanimous
about it – go figure)
I mean, I know of some friends who are
awesomely laid back and easy-going before they have children. But when the
precious princess or springy prince comes, they mutate to become
over-protective, jealously guarded, militantly defensive, and adamantly
self-assertive, even neurotic about it. And the worse part is that the
friendship for decades could be threatened over an incident at play between
their children that were largely unintended. I have even heard that close
relatives would turn into sworn enemies over their children's feud.
For some parents I know, a sorry is just not
good enough. When the hurt is done (mostly vicariously), it is set in emotional
cement. Somehow, something more is expected of us parents in disciplining our
kids. Of course, my wife and I will not spare the rod in disciplining our kids.
But I for one sincerely believe that kids will be kids just like adults will be
adults. By this, I mean that they - being
immature - will unavoidably be mischievous, playful, rambunctious,
over-energetic, complaining, loud, attention-seeking, self-centered (to some
degree), vain (in a cute way), calculative, irascible, irritating, provocative,
whining and...I think you get my drift. In other words, they are as imperfect
as we are.
So, I often struggle to understand parents who take a playground
transgression against their kid too seriously and personally.
Now, my children are no angels. My son is
playful and all that jazz. He is also rough and likes to play
"fighting". My girl is whiny and she complains a lot. She can also be
moody and morose. And don't start me off with my youngest (4 years old). My
children also try to lie to get away with wrongdoings. They are also lazy and
sometimes rebellious. For this reason, my wife and I have to rein them in,
reprimand them, remind them often, teach them to behave, and inspire them by
examples. Parenting is in fact a lifetime fulltime vocation. It is not easy
that’s for sure.
But what is most rewarding is to see them
growing up, making their own mistakes and learning from them, and then becoming
parents of their own, and watching them impart the values we have taught them
to their children. In the larger scheme of things, we are all learning as much
as our children are learning. We are imperfect in our own ways and they are
imperfect in theirs. We can't expect them to act like adults and neither do
they want to be. Their time to step up to the plate will come and they will
confront their own unique set of challenges. For now, as they are growing up,
we have to give them space to be themselves, their unique self, and allow them
to make their mistakes, and then gently, but firmly, lead them by the hand in
the right direction.
This brings me back to the point of this post.
I have learned that our children will disappoint us in the same way that we
will disappoint them. It is ironical that what we wish in our children is often
what is lacking in our life. We wish for them to be patient but we are
impatient ourselves. We wish that they will be honest but we sometimes finesse
the truths, offer half-truths to exploit the unwitting and pretend to be what
we are not. And we wish for them to be happy and contented but we are often
less than satisfied with our own lot in life. This wish-list goes on and on and
our flaws taint every item on the list.
So, going back to the incident at the playground and the
message from the parent, I think we over-invest in our children. We live out
our ideals in them. We see them as adult in a child’s body. We give them more
credit than they deserve (or want to). We see in them a glowing part of us. And
short of expecting the perfect child, we expect them to undergo accelerated
maturity. As such, in our mind, our children are seldom wrong. And they are
seldom wrong because we see them with rose-tinted glasses. This is often seldom
admitted, but you can ask any parent on a good day about their kid and they
will not hesitate to tell you that their children are well-behaved, smarter
than average, prettier than most, and they would never lie to them. This is in
fact every parent’s wish-list for their child.
And this is also why parents find it difficult to believe
that their kid is the instigator or the ring leader (or is equally to be
blamed) in a playground brawling. Sadly, the reality is often far from what we
had hoped.
I guess the issue seems to be that our children have
unknowingly become the extension of our ego. So any smear on them is perceived
as a smear on us. And a taint in their character is invariably a taint on ours.
In the same way that we cannot believe we will act that way or say those words,
our children likewise will not do or say likewise. They are not only from our
burning loins but they are also an inextricable part of us. And being part of
us, they are by default as good as us. Again you can see the unconscious
playing up of the parental wish-list.
I think I have rambled enough. I have said my peace. I
apologize if I have stepped on some parental toes or struck a raw nerve. Or
maybe it is just me, and I just have to deal with it in my own way. Cheerz.
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