A less than perfect role-model

You know the trickiest part of parenting? The part where you become a role model for a tiny human, or two in my case, whether you like it or not.
Never in my life have I striven to be a better person — with better habits and a better attitude — as hard as I did since I had the kids. That, without even being aware of it.
The idea that someone thinks (at least for the first decade of his/her life) that you are the epitome of perfection, aims to be ‘just like you’ and is watching you all the time and copying you too is unnerving to say the least.
Years in the hostel and then with just the two of us – The Husband and I – at home made us lose touch with many ‘good’ childhood habits. When the twins came along they sprung right back up with a vengeance.
To begin with we got into a proper schedule. No lounging in bed till 10 am on weekends or staying up late watching movies endlessly. First it was because unexpected changes made the kids cranky and then later simply because that was what suited all of us best.
Next we purged swear words from our vocabulary – no shits, no craps, no damns. Two tiny toddlers lisping them out at us was more than we could handle.
That was just the start. I realised it was easier to get them to do things if I did them first. If I wanted to them to eat at the table (and not in front of the TV) I had to do that myself too, if I wanted them to not go barefoot I had to wear slippers too, if I wanted them to speak a language well I had to give up the mish mash I often slipped into.
They even made me challenge the non confrontationist in me. I learnt to speak out when they were wronged not only because I was way too angry to let it go but also because I didn’t want them to sit back and accept bad behaviour or unfair treatment.
I changed. A lot. However, it’s been ten years since they were born and it does get exhausting. Much as I would want to be this other person permanently, all the time, I realised I simply could not — even though she was a far better version of me.
Some of my childhood habits came back and stuck for good but some I gave up along the way.
Mercifully the children are growing out of the ‘mama is perfect’ mode. And that is a relief, at least for now. I know I’ll be regretting it soon enough as they move to the ‘You don’t know anything, You don’t understand’ phase. But until then I am glad I can let them see that I am not perfect and that they don’t need to be either. And yet that doesn’t mean I’ll stop bugging them or that they don’t need to keep trying their darndest.
I won’t obsesses about it, though. As long as the basic values are in place – honesty, loyalty, empathy, chivalry – the rest shall follow in good time.

Picture credit: Pixabay

Clearing my head

…. that’s exactly what I’m trying to do through this post today. A few weeks back I shared my anxieties regrading the twin’s academics  – how they seemed completely unconcerned while I was losing sleep (and hair in equal measure). 

A mum blogger, Suchitra raised a point in the comments.
She said, “I wonder sometimes if it’s just us trying to impose our insecurities on our kids because what they do and how they do it reflects on us and how we raise them.”
It made me think. Am I pushing the kids solely for their sake or also because their performance proves my credentials as a good parent – to myself and maybe to others too?
Will it matter to them whether they scored a 100 or a 40 in their exam? The truth is I will be more affected than them maybe because the importance of academics hasn’t quite sunk in for them.
Good grades are important in that they are an indicator of a good education. And they make me come through as a good parent. And both those make me happy. The two motivations are so closely entwined it is tough to separate one from the other. They are almost the same thing. Almost.
It really is a thin line, because when the children do well it automatically makes me look like a good parent. The important bit is to make sure the focus remains on them and not on me – on their progress and happiness rather than on how I am contributing to it.
It is easy to confuse the two and to begin to do things for them, to choose paths for them that make me happy or make me feel like a good parent, in the belief that it makes them happy too. The grades are just one instance.
However, as they grow up, I need to remind myself, that they are not solely a product of my parenting – not their grades, nor their talents, definitely not their likes and dislikes or their personalities or even how they turn out, finally. It is important to recognise them as separate people guided by myriad influences.
In other words to not be an obsessive mom!
I am not as evolved as all of that. But recognising that it needs to happen will put me on the path to making it happen soon enough. Hopefully.

Picture credit: PIXABAY


And also with Mel at  Microblog Mondays.

Somedays I am a 9-year-old

I was out shopping for a birthday gift for N’s friend and I spotted an Elsa bag. What? You don’t know Elsa? Elsa from Frozen ? Don’t let N hear you say that, she wouldn’t think much of you.

N has been in love with Elsa for some time now. She sings Let it Go till the rest of us beg her to stop, sleeps with her Elsa quilt and an Elsa cushion and has made an Elsa collage that she’s stuck onto her cupboard. I have nothing against the Frozen girl. I loved the film as much as N. More importantly I shall be forever grateful to her for ridding (well almost) N of her Pink obsession. 

Blue-Green is the new pink, ever since Elsa came along.

Anyway so when I saw this slingbag I thought I just had to pick it up for N. But then something made me stop. I mean, why was getting all excited? Why on earth was I behaving like a nine-year-old? Wasn’t it my place to think whether N really needed the bag at all? Which of course, she didn’t.

If you’re a parent and have been in my place you know why we do it – why we go to Mc Donald’s and eat happy meal after happy meal and demolish our diets, why we buy Spideman bags and Chhota Bheem bed spreads, even when our kids aren’t begging for them – all for that smile on their faces.

And then there are days when we complain about the obsession and the cost and about how marketing companies make children a target of their strategies. They are simply doing their jobs, though some amount of social responsibility wouldn’t hurt. 

The kids are of course just being kids.

So then it has to be us who has to put on the brakes, even at the cost of that dear smile from our little one, for it is but transitory. I know I’m stating the obvious but I’m doing it because I need to hear me say it.

We have it tougher than our parents who had fewer choices and didn’t have to struggle with these dilemmas. I wish I could summon my mom’s classic don’t-be-silly look, the one she would have given me, had I asked for something like this – the best ever antidote to smart marketing strategies.

Bringing up Tweens

The twins are officially in their tweens now – that rather ambiguous age from 9 to 12 when they’re beginning to think of themselves as all grown up’ while we parents are still struggling to get used to them being ‘no longer babies’.

It’s worse, if that’s possible, for twins of different genders because this is the time when gender stereotyping takes over more than ever and their differences become even more pronounced.

The boys become more boyish with the painful ‘I hate girls’ phase at it’s peak before the decline begins when the teens set in. And no thank you I’d much rather not think what that’s going to be like.

As for the girls, well they become girly, annoyingly so – dressing and preening till the mirror throws up it’s hands in frustration.

If you’re looking for some help with your tween do check out my debut piece at Parentous and don’t forget to share your own dos and don’ts. I can always do with more help.

Eye tests are good for health

Last week I took H for an eye-test. The ophthalmologist’s clinic was packed and we had a good one hour wait. H had taken along a book. It was another one from the Captain Underpants series. (On that note – When exactly do kids outgrow potty humour? I must remember to do a post on that someday) Yet, I was  grateful. One, because at least it was a book and not the iPad and two, because I was spared endless rounds of word games and Atlas (H sits poring at the world map picking out places, mostly Chinese, ending in X so Atlas with him is no joke).

Mercifully, he read his book quietly, asked the receptionist how many people before his turn then sat counting. In, with the doctor, he sat through the eye test, read what he was asked to and generally behaved impeccably.

We’ve been going to the same ophthalmologist for quite a few years now and as we were leaving he commented, “H has matured a lot.” An innocuous enough remark considering that the kids are growing up. But I remembered the nightmare of the first few visits. 

H was a little over three years old when I noticed he had an affinity for watching television sideways. He was also bending too close over his textbooks (which is a habit I’m still struggling to get him out of). The eye-test was simply a precautionary measure. As it turned out he needed glasses.

Then began rounds of eye tests. He refused to sit on that chair, when he did he wouldn’t sit still, he would scrunch his eyes, or blink rapidly or simply keep them shut, despite our repeated entreaties. Worse, he’d break into the ABCD song when asked to read the alphabets on the monitor.

The first time round it was funny. Then on it was just frustrating.

The most unfortunate part was that the doc couldn’t give him a hundred percent accurate pair of glasses. As a result his eyesight deteriorated further. I changed doctors many times over until I finally found this one who could handle him well.

That is why the compliment was such a huge deal. And I came home feeling very optimistic as I thought that maybe things will fall into place as the kids grew up.

Earlier in the day the kids had been exceptionally rowdy. Tired and upset as I was, I wrote a distressed post wondering where I was going wrong. And now I’m glad I didn’t publish it. That eye-test sorted out my day. 

Seriously, doctors are useful people in more ways than one :-).