Parenting Wins: Pirouettes, Leg Squeezes and the Absence of a Shaved Cat
Raising remarkable humans
I’ve lost count how many times I have said “Lucky he’s cute,” as if cuteness were a magical shield against the chaos our offspring unleash. We love our kids but let’s be honest, there are times we would gladly prioritise some alone time if there wasn’t the risk of a shaved cat, the creation of a Lego minefield or metal finding its way into the microwave.
In the chaotic circus of parenthood, we aim to mould our little ones into socially acceptable mini-me’s. Hoping beyond hope, we haven’t accidentally created the devil spawn and praying we are doing parenting right. We’re often so preoccupied with teaching our darlings to not eat rocks, use please and thank yous, and wipe their food-covered everything, we sometimes don’t notice the good stuff.
As they grow up, we tend to focus more on the report card F they get in PE rather than the A they got in science. It’s hard to watch kids strut across the stage on awards day laden down with trophies and certificates and not want your kid’s name to be called. Especially when you know Jimmy’s mum built that bloody volcano! It’s normal to want them to be the best they can be, but sometimes it means we overlook what I see as parenting wins.
Give me the Terrible Twos any day over the Trying Teens! If you are juggling the teenage years while attempting to keep your hair, not label them idiots daily, and isolate the stench to one end of the house, try and take a moment to appreciate the less tangible aspects of your kid’s character. They may be brief or few and far between, but those heartwarming moments reassure us we’re not completely failing at this whole parenting gig. That, and take a moment to celebrate the fact life isn’t always going to be constant reminders to employ basic hygiene!
Love and Kindness: Gentlemanly surprises
While my teen son swears like a trucker online and ‘thinks’ he is out of earshot, he is actually a gentleman. He gets equality and a woman’s ability and right to do anything she damn well likes, but also understands the value of chivalry. Kindness costs nothing and he opens doors for me, takes my hand to cross the street and loops his arm through mine while walking together.
I remember a trip to Disney World when it had just stopped raining; the crowds were low and the music in the streets was playing. My son took my hand and pirouetted me in the middle of the street. Such a simple act and unbeknown to him, it is a memory that still makes my heart sing half a decade later.
The ongoing Tech/Life balance battles are no secret in our family. I’d take the 1990’s screaming from the porch across the street to get his arse home any day over the endless stress of technology addiction. It appears to outsiders that the rest of the world blurs into the background for my son when the tech device vortex is in full force. A small win is he will randomly look up from his device and blow me a kiss. For no other reason than he is thinking of me.
Other kids can be jerks when it comes to showing your parents affection. While I think I am a cool mum, the reality is, in the eyes of teenagers I am as cool as the ancient tech of Facebook. With an unabashed approach to displaying affection, I get kisses and I love you in front of his friends.
Regardless, kissing your mum at the school gate must be rated highly on the teasing radar. I gave him an out, to drop him around the corner or kiss me before we leave. He has proclaimed that if anyone can’t handle the Mummy-love, they’re clearly not someone he wants in his circle of friends.
Respect and Appreciation: Compliments and outfit triumphs
My son’s compliments are like a fountain of youth and my very own self-esteem pep talk. He insists I am a perpetual 26-year-old beauty despite the many years passing by.
Several years back, I was out shopping with my son and purchased an outfit to wear out dancing with friends that wasn’t my husband’s favourite. Now let’s not get on the man-hate wagon — he never said I didn’t look nice, but being with someone for over 20 years, you know when they don’t like something. I decided to change as a result.
My son all of 5 at the time, marched into my bedroom with his tiny hands on his hips, reminding me I loved it in the shop and said if I liked it, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought.
With renewed confidence and adopting a bit of my son’s positive attitude, I rocked that outfit and received a ton of compliments. I even got given a phone number that I showed my husband proclaiming, “How’s them apples!”
I completely get keeping me in the good books is in his favour! But years later when he still makes a special effort to drag his butt away from the aforementioned tech vortex to tell me I look beautiful when going out, I believe it’s genuine. I think we taught each other the value of being happy in our own skin.
Maturity and Patience: I hate you grenades
My husband is an honorary resident of ‘loseyourshitville’. His patience is quick to evaporate, and we often have conversations around how he shouldn’t go from “Please turn it off” to “You have lost it for a year”, despite how many previous conversations have already been had.
We are normal parents who eventually get frustrated and raise our voices — a polite way of saying our neighbours are third parties to our discussions. Our son is an only child and we are navigating this minefield with him. We have received feedback from him that at times our complaints have come left field. While we know this is a result of him forgetting or ignoring the prior 50 requests of the same nature, we try to be open to his views. As adults, it’s hard to always keep emotions in check, so we have tried to give our son space to feel.
That doesn’t mean he has free reign to redecorate by putting holes in walls or breaking stuff! I mean instead of him hurling “I hate you” grenades and slamming doors in the heat of the moment, my son adopts a diplomatic approach to managing his frustration. He’ll often exit the room for alone time and say “I love you, but I’m frustrated with you right now,” albeit through gritted teeth. Note to self: Apologise to Mum for all my less-than-diplomatic teenage comebacks!
I’m a very passionate person and menopause isn’t helping me remain calm when societal niceties are absent. My Achilles heel is crowds, smoking and inconsiderate praming!!! In my times of turmoil, I receive a trusty leg squeeze from my son which is equivalent to emotional AA. I love that he can recognise when I am upset and emotionally intelligent enough to try and help me manage my potentially uncalled for, loud and public reaction. With menopause in full swing, I’m trying to be conscious this doesn’t become his full-time job!
Since he was young, I have received three squeezes of my hand when we are about to cross paths with a puffing smoker. He doesn’t want to offend the smoker, they are entitled to some RnR, but also acknowledges as non-smokers we hardly want a face full of second-hand smoke. It’s his subtle way of telling me, “Mum, you might want to hold your breath — we’re in the Big C danger zone!”
My parenting approach is to view these strength of character victories in higher regard than shiny trophies or straight A’s. In the grand scheme, it’s not always about how many baubles they collect, what school they were accepted into or how far they can throw (insert sport terminology). Rather it’s about raising downright delightful human beings, one leg squeeze and pirouette at a time!
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By day, I am a Corporate Executive and Board Director with a passion for CX, EX, and AI. In my other life, I love to explore my writing passion on midlife trials and tribulations, parental journeys, and sharing my general musings on life.