“He loves his new baby sister” enthused my work colleague about his little boy, “he’s not jealous at all, he’s always hugging and kissing her, he’s so good”
Great so, the upcoming birth of my second child was bound to lead to exactly the same kind of loveliness. I wasn’t just basing this assumption on one colleague’s positive experience – many people with two small children had regaled me with similar tales of sibling bonding. And anyway, we’d bought a doll to give Clara after the birth of her new brother or sister, so how could it go wrong?
Oh it went wrong. It was by far the most challenging, difficult parenting experience that I’ve gone through since becoming a mother. I don’t know if everybody was fibbing or if my family was just the unfortunate exception to the rosy-sibling-lovefest rule, but it was grim.
Clara was twenty months old when Emmie was born, so really, still a baby herself. And she didn’t know what to think about this interloper, this cuckoo who arrived into our house one day and didn’t leave. Clara wanted my attention – of course she did – and she was shy and anxious around her new baby sister. We tried to take photos of the two together but Emmie was two months old before Clara plucked up the confidence to sit near her sister for long enough to pose. It sounds ridiculous – it felt ridiculous at the time. And it felt stressful and frustrating and very different to the picture that I had imagined. It stretched my patience and my fledgling parenting skills to the limit. And beyond.
I remember my husband being away for the weekend when Emmie was nine weeks old – Clara cried for an hour non-stop one of the evenings, then Emmie started to cry, then I started to cry. And I wasn’t as patient as I should have been. And Clara was still not two years old. I wish I could have better understood that she was still a baby, that she was lost and confused and needed me. But I saw her as the “big girl” and was sometimes impatient with her when she had tantrums, when she threw food on the floor, when she cried and pulled at me to pick her up while I was feeding the baby. I was impatient; I could have and should have done better.
I don’t think I’m an instinctively good parent. I think some people are, and some less so. I think I’m a try-hard good parent – I know the parent I want to be, I’m aware of my own failings and limitations, I worry about mistakes and work hard to avoid making the same mistakes again. But I lack the ability to just sit back and go with the flow, to avoid raising my voice or losing my patience. I would love to be that parent but I know I never will be. Instead I am doing the next best thing – I’m trying to be better. I’m looking for tools to help me to be better – a little bit of fake it till you make it.
One such tool was a decision I made when Emmie was tiny and Clara was not yet two: I would parent like someone was watching. As though I was under scrutiny and would be taken to task for getting it wrong. I know this sounds odd, and I’m sure many will read and think “not for me”. It sounds contrived, unnatural. But for me it works. I don’t think about it consciously, and I don’t do it all the time – it’s just a subconscious habit that I got into. Perhaps it’s just another name for an internal control button, visualised in my case as a watcher. And if it means that even half of the times that I’m about to lose my cool, I don’t, then it’s working.
It didn’t work tonight when two out of three dinner plates and their contents ended up on the floor – a dinner that I had spent two hours cooking (more fool me). But I did feel bad, I did apologise, I did get everyone back to the table for a replacement dinner of banana and yogurt, and I did resolve to try harder.
Another parenting tool in a similar vein: smiling at my kids. I read somewhere that we should try to smile at our children more often – walk into a room, see your child, and smile at her so that that’s the first thing she sees when she looks up. I was surprised at how often I wasn’t smiling at my kids but I resolved to try harder. My success was hit and miss, until one evening when I walked into the girls’ room to find Clara smiling sheepishly up at me. “What?” I said, in a suspicious tone. “Mum, I’m just smiling at you – you should smile at your kids…” she replied, looking downcast.
Immediately I felt horrible, and put to shame by this wise little person. I pulled her into a hug and promised myself to do better – and this time it worked. I’ve finally reached a point where I remember to do this at least more often than not – I’ve trained myself to smile at my kids (except when the dinner ends up on the floor). Again it sounds contrived, but it’s not – I practiced something, then mastered it so that it became second nature. My kids are happier, I’m happier – it worked. The watchers are happy too I think.
So have hope, any of you who are not yet parents and wondering if you have a natural instinct for it – I think it’s possible to be a good parent without having the innate patience and inbuilt maternal tendencies that we see in others around us. Being aware of your own shortcomings and willing to keep trying count for a lot. At least I hope so, or my kids are screwed.
13 thoughts on “Parent like someone is watching”
You could have written this post just for me!! I too would love to be a more laid back, instinctual parent and would love to not have to work so hard at it but alas we are the way we are and if we are trying our best I hope that’s enough. I am most definitely going to try the ‘smile first’ tip, it seems so obvious but I know I don’t do it often enough. Thank you for sharing this. X
Well it’s busy isn’t it, it’s hard to find time for everything! But I definitely think we can all train ourselves to modify our behaviour here and there. Thanks for the kind words Elizabeth
Oh, that third picture. It must have melted your heart seeing it, finally.
Christine recently posted…The secret life of books
It did! We have it framed in the bedroom that they now (very happily) share – it was on holidays when the baby was about 3 months old and I still remember how it felt…
I can completely relate to this post. My daughter was 22 months when her brother came along and I could not leave her alone with him for years to come! She went from being the centre of my universe to having to share me. It did not go well and I did not handle it well. It is probably my biggest parenting regret to date. I am still trying to be that better parent but think I need a lot more work! Thanks for sharing, for the honesty and for some great tips that I will definitely start trying out TODAY!
Naomi Lavelle recently posted…Blog
I feel relieved reading that even one other person had this experience – so many people seem to find it quite easy!
But of course it depends on so many different factors. I now realise that it doesn’t mean I’m a terrible person and it certainly didn’t result in any long-term relationship problems between the kids – my two girls are best buddies now.
I remember reading this when it was first posted and wanted to reread – baby 2 will “arrive” in 2 weeks. ( they just arrive dont you know!) baby 1 will be 2 in 2 weeks. I have been busy shoring the not quite 2 year old to be the Big brother & the Big boy- thank you for reminding me he’s just a baby too!!
I also love the notion of parenting like someone is watching- I think this makes us true to ourselves as parents and kinder to our precious little ones.
I’m glad the post was helpful – I really wish I’d understood that my 20 month old was still a baby when her little sister came along. You will have two babies in a few weeks – but happily one of them will have a good understanding of what you’re saying to him and will be able to help you in time, and the other one will just want to sleep and feed for at least a while 🙂 Best of luck with the arrival – yes, isn’t it great the way they just arrive! So easy!!
Thanks for this. Really hit home!
thanks for reading and commenting Eva!
I love the idea of parenting like someone is watching and also of smiling more.
As for how good of a parent you need to be… A pal with a degree in psychology told me about studies that were done on that question. Turns our that you don’t have to be perfect, or even good. You just have to be good enough, which was defined as meeting your child’s needs 60-70% of the time.
I like that – I think I can do 60 to 70%! I suppose, with many people having two or three kids, often close in age, it’s already difficult to meet their needs – giving full attention to any one child can be tough sometimes!
Comments are closed.