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Does modern parenting have to be hard work?

1
My parents weren’t particularly worried about how I might turn out. They read parenting books but they didn’t believe every word. It feels like modern parenting is much harder. There isn’t much time for the parents. The focus is on ‘getting it right’ and doing a REALLY EXCELLENT job.

Yesterday in the park I had the luxury of sitting on a bench on my own. I love people watching so instead of scrolling through Twitter anxiously (it’s not unusual for me to commit some sort of social media faux pas without even realising it) I took time to

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observe a good selection of parents. Each clutched a coffee (the modern crutch every parent needs to function) and each hovered over their child like a puppeteer. The air was thick with instructions, warnings and encouragements.

‘You can’t go up that way. Go round and come back down.’

‘Look there’s a leaf stuck to your shoe.’

‘You’re doing really well climbing the tower.’

’Wait for that little girl to come down first.’

The children beavered away. They struggled to climb up ladders. They swang off bars. They probably

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didn’t hear the collective babble. Very occasionally a wail sounded out that made all the parents look up like a group of meerkats. There were periods of awkward negotiation  – again the conversations usually went via the kids- ‘Share that swing with the little boy Tilly. Let the boy get on and then you can have a go.’ Overall it felt like hard work.

Then in one corner of the playground a boy of six started tugging on a smaller boy who was crying. It wasn’t clear who this smaller boy was. The crying continued. The older boy was telling him

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that he couldn’t go on the swing. Some of the parents looked concerned but didn’t want to get involved (myself included). In the distance a man and woman with grey hair sat talking. The other parents started glaring. THESE OLD PEOPLE WERE IGNORING THE CHILDREN! The grandparents (I guessed) continued to natter- oblivious to the drama. Eventually the woman noticed and shouted- ‘Rufus! Come here! Bring your brother with you.’ The boy dragged his brother. The woman said a couple of words and the tussling stopped. The two children returned. Everyone
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was happy again.

These grandparents pretty much represented my parents. I’m not going to generalise about Baby Boomers but it’s well documented that some of them (the hippie ones) were laissez faire. My Mum says I lived in a playpen whilst she wrote in her Spare Rib diary and made ugly macramé plant pots. Nowadays if you left your child in a playpen for any length of time you’d be seen as some sort of sadist.

My parents definitely sat on the bench in the playground. My Mum taught me to scrub her back with a giant wooden brush when I was

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four. It was important for her to have a break. It wasn’t always about me. She must have watched me fall off things many times.

We probably need more balance. It’s okay not to fill the air with instructions and pleas. If you leave your kid to play on its own a bit more it’s probably a good thing. Next time when you’re in the park take a seat on the bench. See if you can stop hovering (if you never hover then you’ve got that balance. Jog on.). Teach your kid to scrub your back. Or massage your feet whilst you’re watching TV. Read a magazine

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instead of getting all the finger paints out.

I’m not advocating lazy parenting. I’m not advocating bad parenting either. Just sometimes we don’t need to work so hard. Sometimes we can please ourselves.

Sometimes we can sit on the bench and watch.

SelfishMother.com

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- 11 Oct 15

My parents weren’t particularly worried about how I might turn out. They read parenting books but they didn’t believe every word. It feels like modern parenting is much harder. There isn’t much time for the parents. The focus is on ‘getting it right’ and doing a REALLY EXCELLENT job.

Yesterday in the park I had the luxury of sitting on a bench on my own. I love people watching so instead of scrolling through Twitter anxiously (it’s not unusual for me to commit some sort of social media faux pas without even realising it) I took time to observe a good selection of parents. Each clutched a coffee (the modern crutch every parent needs to function) and each hovered over their child like a puppeteer. The air was thick with instructions, warnings and encouragements.

‘You can’t go up that way. Go round and come back down.’

‘Look there’s a leaf stuck to your shoe.’

‘You’re doing really well climbing the tower.’

‘Wait for that little girl to come down first.’

The children beavered away. They struggled to climb up ladders. They swang off bars. They probably didn’t hear the collective babble. Very occasionally a wail sounded out that made all the parents look up like a group of meerkats. There were periods of awkward negotiation  – again the conversations usually went via the kids- ‘Share that swing with the little boy Tilly. Let the boy get on and then you can have a go.’ Overall it felt like hard work.

Then in one corner of the playground a boy of six started tugging on a smaller boy who was crying. It wasn’t clear who this smaller boy was. The crying continued. The older boy was telling him that he couldn’t go on the swing. Some of the parents looked concerned but didn’t want to get involved (myself included). In the distance a man and woman with grey hair sat talking. The other parents started glaring. THESE OLD PEOPLE WERE IGNORING THE CHILDREN! The grandparents (I guessed) continued to natter- oblivious to the drama. Eventually the woman noticed and shouted- ‘Rufus! Come here! Bring your brother with you.’ The boy dragged his brother. The woman said a couple of words and the tussling stopped. The two children returned. Everyone was happy again.

These grandparents pretty much represented my parents. I’m not going to generalise about Baby Boomers but it’s well documented that some of them (the hippie ones) were laissez faire. My Mum says I lived in a playpen whilst she wrote in her Spare Rib diary and made ugly macramé plant pots. Nowadays if you left your child in a playpen for any length of time you’d be seen as some sort of sadist.

My parents definitely sat on the bench in the playground. My Mum taught me to scrub her back with a giant wooden brush when I was four. It was important for her to have a break. It wasn’t always about me. She must have watched me fall off things many times.

We probably need more balance. It’s okay not to fill the air with instructions and pleas. If you leave your kid to play on its own a bit more it’s probably a good thing. Next time when you’re in the park take a seat on the bench. See if you can stop hovering (if you never hover then you’ve got that balance. Jog on.). Teach your kid to scrub your back. Or massage your feet whilst you’re watching TV. Read a magazine instead of getting all the finger paints out.

I’m not advocating lazy parenting. I’m not advocating bad parenting either. Just sometimes we don’t need to work so hard. Sometimes we can please ourselves.

Sometimes we can sit on the bench and watch.

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I'm Super Editor here at SelfishMother.com and love reading all your fantastic posts and mulling over all the complexities of modern parenting. We have a fantastic and supportive community of writers here and I've learnt just how transformative and therapeutic writing can me. If you've had a bad day then write about it. If you've had a good day- do the same! You'll feel better just airing your thoughts and realising that no one has a master plan. I'm Mum to a daughter who's 3 and my passions are writing, reading and doing yoga (I love saying that but to be honest I'm no yogi).

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