Now We Are Six
Seven, Eight... NINE?!
Well done to everyone who got the A.A. Milne reference.
It is the last week of term and I am crawling to the finish line. I have a cold. I am irritable. And if I am asked to download one more school app1 I’m going to have a psychotic break. I am sure many of you feel the same.
This term I have experienced a new parenting sensation, perhaps best described as parental nostalgia while still very much in the thick of things. Maybe this feeling is really the permanent state of parenthood proper. Once you’re a good few years in you start to realise that every stage of parenting is hard, overwhelming and unknown. Each phase has its own ups and downs, particular delights and nightmares. I look back at photos of them at one and two (they are 16 months apart) and feel something akin to grief, but also relief.
The period I am currently in feels like it is Peak Dork Phase. The cuteness of preschool child is there no longer. Every morning my children look bigger to me, their faces slimmer, their limbs longer. But they still want to sit on my lap and curl up, and its like having a Great Dane on top of you.
Their jokes often make no sense. They are becoming more self-conscious. What their hair looks like now matters to them. (Remember those covid haircuts? That shit would no longer fly.) They still play like little kids, but understand more about the world around them, are alert to social nuance and try to be grown up.
A few weeks ago my daughter and her friend were talking about school songs. They asked Kingsley about his. He proceeded to sing it too them. They sat their staring, side-eyeing, cool-girling him, and he heartbreakingly, earnestly, awkwardly, dorkily sang it to them. Everything about that exchange exemplifies the current vibe. Self-conscious, but not too cool to be proud. Things still matter. We haven’t entered the pre-teen I-don’t-care era just yet.
Large parts of parenting are now about nagging. “Good news, guys, you have pets! Bad news, time to clean their enclosures!”. “Have you packed your bag? Have you packed your sports kit? Have you done your homework? Have you brushed your teeth? Have you had a shower? Have you practised the piano? Have you cleared the table? Have you tidied your room?” Have you? Have you? Have you?
And yet, the age-old worry of parenting has not gone away. Older parents, does it ever go away? I’m guessing not.
My anxiety spikes every time I get an email about a ‘fun non-compulsory’ way to consolidate school work! I always feel on the back foot, like there is always more that could be done. Which seems insane, because how could we possibly be doing any more? But then I see people, the ones doing more, and I feel desperately insecure. Am I low capacity? Lazy? Am I doing enough? But no, no, I refuse to become part of that world of relentless competition and busyness. And I try and reframe my extreme boredom with sitting at the kitchen table listening to them haltingly make their way through their readers. Because on good days, it is precious. And I know I will grieve this time just as I now grieve the years spent sitting in the garden with them splashing in the bird bath.
I recently attended a talk on parenting at my kid’s school entitled, “the struggle is real”. And it was a helpful reminder that we are more often than not in the same emotional soup.
We are all of us living in a hyper stimulated environment, fuelled by comparison, competing pressures and wanting to do our best. Am I pushing too hard? Am I not pushing enough? My children might be overwhelmed, but so am I. The take home was that we want connected parents, not perfect parents. Parenting wasn’t meant to be done alone.
So I’m here to tell you, you’re not alone. (Please tell me I’m not alone?) That maybe the tension between looking forward, and looking back and savouring the moment is irresolvable and that we will forever slip between these states. But every now and then, something interrupts the roller coaster, and makes you feel deeply recognised and appreciated for who you are, not who you’re trying to be.
“Mom, you know when you do your hair up like a bird’s nest?”
“Ja.”
“It looks nice.”
Book stuff!
Very excited to be talking to Mike Nicol at Salon Hecate in Noordhoek next Tuesday. If you are in the deep south, please do come through and spread the word!
Other upcoming events:
Actual school apps, health apps, report apps, sport apps, payment apps. I am apps-o-lutely over it.
YOU ARE NOT ALONE
Lovely piece, and I can so relate! You are a gifted writer and I so enjoy reading your posts.