Daddy Super-Cool vs Mummy Not-So-Cool

Site Default - 9 May 16

When it comes to parenting our two boys, my husband and I are like chalk and cheese.

I’m the really boring, sensible parent who forces broccoli down them at any given chance, who frets over their teeth being brushed properly and worries if they haven’t drunk enough water each day. Who bans them from watching Dennis the Menace (for fear that they’ll want to be just like him) and takes the iPad away when they steal it for a sneaky play. Who says ‘No!’ to throwing balls inside and shouts at them for not clearing up their trails of endless mess. Who hunts down midnight-feast snacks that they’ve hidden under their pillows and demands that they go to their room if they’re having a wobbly. Who tells them off for being too noisy and embarrasses them in front of their friends by insisting on goodbye kisses in the playground. Who often says ‘In a minute!’ when asked to play a puzzle and is also pretty rubbish at being goalie when coaxed into a game of football.

But because I spend all day with the children when they’re at home I have to instil some discipline. Because if I didn’t, our house would be trashed, the TV would be on all day (with Bike Stunts being played nonstop on YouTube), our living room would become a rugby pitch, there’d be crisp wrappers everywhere and chocolate hand prints on the walls and I’d no doubt be hitting the gin by 10am… I have to be strict otherwise all hell would break out. On top of all this I worry about my boys the whole time, which makes me less relaxed as a parent. I’m always watching their every move and saying ‘Don’t do that!’, ‘Don’t touch that!’. My nearly-six-year-old has even started saying ‘Blah, blah, blah’ whenever I come near him. He’s heard me bang on at him so much that he’s now becoming immune to my demands…

My husband, on the other hand, is a breath of fun and patient fresh air. As soon as he comes through the door after work there are giggles and tickles and the music gets turned up full blast. There is singing to Coldplay over breakfast and on-the-table dancing to Justin Bieber before bed. There is play-fighting – rolling around the floor and climbing on each other’s backs – and night-time tales about dragons and dinosaurs under the duvet with torches.

And at weekends my other half takes the boys on adventures – often with me in tow – to playgrounds and parks, castles and forests. He stands loyally on the sidelines, watching my eldest take part in football and rugby club. He kicks balls around all day with them both and enjoys every minute. He flies kites with them and doesn’t get cross when they, on purpose, get them tangled in the trees every time. He goes on ‘treasure-hunt bike rides’ and buys them supersized ice-creams without nagging them not to get it all over their clothes. He bounces on the trampoline with them and builds dens in the woods with piles of sticks. He never loses his cool during a mini meltdown and soothes them with silly stories and comforting cuddles. He makes their lives so much more carefree and exciting and I notice their little eyes light up whenever he’s around. He is their best friend and their big playmate. And when he needs to discipline them, they – for the most part – behave. He has managed to get that tricky balance right between being a friend and being a fab father.

In short, our parenting personas are poles apart: it’s Daddy Super-Cool and Mummy-Not-So-Cool in our household. But thankfully our goal of raising two happy boys – as best we can – will always remain the same.

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Fiona Pennell lives in the Cotswolds with her husband and their two boys, Jack, 6, and Otto, 4. A former YOU magazine sub-editor, Fiona now spends her days being trampled on, going on slug hunts and dreaming of lie-ins. (Twitter: @fiona_pennell)

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