But why, dear child, would you want to grow up?
We are sugarcoating adulthood and it is effecting our children - they want to be like us!
A familiar conversation was had at the weekend, between my two oldest children and my husband and I. A conversation I felt, as we entered this back and forwards of debate, was very similar to the ones I used to have with my own parents.
“I can’t wait to be able to drive.”
“I can’t wait to be a grown up and make up my own rules and buy toys whenever I want.”
We replied with the harsh truth that although yes, you can indeed buy toys whenever you wanted, reality is that by the time you have paid all your bills, bought food, handed some more money over to school, fixed the car then filled it with fuel and paid for extra curriculum activities (for everyone else but yourself), there is seldom much money left to buy the toys YOU really want.
Can our children not see how dull it is to be a grown up? Do I not complain enough about having to put away piles of washing, cook the tea whilst answering an email and worrying about money?
We must sugarcoat it very well, mustn’t we? Ahh something we have got right after all. They want to be so grown up because we make it look easy and fun. Wow!
The Cat.
As I set about this morning, completing all those household tasks that I need to get done before I can sit down and focus on the work I am actually supposed to be doing, I stopped by my son’s room.
My son will turn ten in just a couple of months. It seems more likely every day that he is indeed reaching that “difficult age” where they are trying to fathom out the world and their place within it. Shrugs of the shoulder and staring at a phone are balanced still by childish giggles at the word poo, and he thankfully still enjoys getting his dinosaurs out every now and again when he thinks no-one is looking.
I walk into his bedroom and assess the unmade bed, a heap of duvet all rolled up and pyjamas scattered, lying inside out after being peeled off in a lazy fashion while he got ready for school. I start to make his bed for him, because despite my constant nagging he still manages to avoid the motion of pulling back covers and resetting pillows. And I am feeling kind today so I shall let him off, just this once.
As I flip his duvet cover, his cuddly friends fall out. Cat, Rabbit, Harry (a sloth) and a snow leopard he purchased from the gift shop at a museum.
I hold each cuddly in turn, before placing them carefully on his (freshly plumped) pillow. Tears of nostalgia threaten behind my eyes as I take a quick sniff, like all mothers do, of the mattered fur of his oldest one: Cat. Instantly I am taken back to when he was around two years old and cat was his loyal companion, tucked under his arm on a camping trip. His bubbly smile filled the tent and the joy of having mummy and daddy sleeping next to him was almost too much to handle. He was sick through the night, clearly from the excitement of it all.
And then I have to move on with the other jobs and the memory hangs around with me for the rest of the morning. I will make sure I give him an extra big hug when he comes in from school, before he shrugs me off and dives into his world of football and WhatsApp messages.
But it makes me think, how we are always wishing time away, looking forward to that next milestone, wanting to be a grown up so we can buy ALL the toys, when in fact those moments of childhood, innocence and wonder, are really something to be held for a little bit longer aren’t they? But, I feel, as my own parents probably did, that it is no good relaying this to my children because they won’t be listening and because they simply won’t believe me.
On the other hand, I don’t want to start paining a horrific picture of what it is really like to be a grown up, otherwise they will carry that along with them also.
So here’s what I will do. Sit down and roll marbles along the floor in a game they have made up. I will jump about on cushions as we survive the larva (did you know this is an actual song/game now? Try asking Alexa about it…) I will breathe when things are challenging but there are little ears present. I will try to have more fun while they are still so young and precious.
Then, I will open the bottle of wine when all is quiet upstairs, because being a grown up does have some perks.
Did you know I wrote a book “The Mother Of All Worries”?