Archives for July 2014

When Little Pencil was just a toddler I was still convinced that parenting was meant to be about memorable parenting moments shared at parks and beaches and other traditional “happy family” places.  I was still at the stage where I judged my parenting experience alongside the fantasies of the pictures of other families I saw. I thought it was all meant to be sunshine and roses and learning experiences and laughter.

It often wasn’t.

We’d often return home from an outing in tears – both Little Pencil and I. He hadn’t “appreciated” it the way he was meant to and we were tired and hungry and frustrated. Actually I was hungry – he not so much. Outings in the early days were more like military-like excursions with tight timetables around naps and meals, there was baggage – so much baggage – nappies and snacks and water and suntan lotion and toys and changes of clothing and kitchen sinks and that was just the “baby bag”.

Of course we had some amazing times and I have about 56898 photos to prove it. I also have memories of laughing with him and marveling at him and just being so damn happy to be his mother.  But there was always a lot of stress associated with it – maybe because I hadn’t slept through the night for four years and I couldn’t get the damn child to eat a thing. But I digress.

Today Little Pencil had his first free day these holidays. It’s becoming increasingly hard to find time with him as he flits from one social arrangement to the next, so the thought of stealing some time with him was hugely attractive and I had just the lure to get him to want to spend some time with me.

He’s been nagging me since we bought the new house in March to find out if he can walk down to the beach from the new house with his friends. Today was going to be our opportunity to try out the route ourselves so we could make an informed decision about what the walk involved.

We parked at the new house that we don’t yet live in and set off. Just him, me, our phones (for photographic purposes), a bottle of water and some money for lunch. He did query my outfit before we left home so I knew I was dealing with a teenager.

What I hadn’t imagined was how wonderful it would be to spend time with this teenager without any of the normal distractions. There was no timetable, no friends pulling at his side, no work pulling at mine. We just walked and laughed and walked and took a zillion photos.  He went onto scary dangerous rocks and instead of screaming I took photos of him smiling, he challenged waves on the slippery rocks and I only screamed internally.  He talked constantly (as is his want) and I listened because he was actually really interesting and entertaining.
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We fed birds, we fed ourselves and he fed my soul with a love that the just keeps building as I discover more and more that parenting is not just about looking after a baby, that it’s not about perfect moments that the books define, that it’s really just being the person you are with the person you created.

Little Pencil raved about the walk – he loved every minute of it and even though it’s certainly close enough to walk there with his friends he’s told me he wants to do it with me again. Actually he told me he wants to do it with his dad but I think I’ll be allowed to join them.

I never thought I was going to learn to love him even more in his teenage years. Guess I was wrong.  And I realise I have changed my mind about teenagers completely since I wrote THIS post. (I prefer this way)

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There are many things I try to teach my child, almost every day. Ever since he was able to talk I have wanted him to know that what he says is important, his words count and that I believe him.

The reasons for this are numerous and obvious – of course he is important and should know that but there is something far more significant and important about him knowing that I believe him, I trust him and if he tells me something I will actually listen.

Some people may complain about the fact that our kids are too forward, that “back in our day” we would call our friends’ parents using the Mr or Mrs moniker, we respected our parents more and our relationships were different. Yes they were different – but they were not necessarily better. The idea that children should be seen and not heard, that they should not talk out of turn and that there were certain things they shouldn’t talk about at all surely caused more damage than it did good. Abuse and inappropriate behavior swept under the carpet – things that troubled us as kids never brought to light.
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