47. Parenting styles

 

We just came back from a very restful weekend in Bali but the following day saw me crashing back to ‘reality’ with a giant thump!  Ahhh…..that mountain-load of ‘enticing’ laundry, beckoning at the end of each holiday…but it is what it is. So, by noon, I had powered through two loads of washing, taken Buddy to the groomers, done the food shop and gone on my 10-km run.  As I struggled through the door with the groceries, Matt looked up from his Maths session with Tia and said, “Oh, the groomers called and I think Buddy is ready to be picked up.”   Off I trudged again, then made lunch for the hungry mob, drove Matt to work, came home, more laundry and then prepared dinner.  I think you get the picture..

At some point during dinner, Tia turned to me and cheekily asked if I had done my piano practise.  Unfortunately for her, we weren’t on the same ‘comedy channel’ at that moment as I recounted every-single-task I had ‘slaved’ through that day, asked if anyone accomplished anything beyond lounging around reading or watching TV, and then dared her to re-ask the question.  Of course, in hindsight, that was a little harsh.  After all, I only had to ask and the girls would have pitched in.  But no, I wanted them to help out because they thought of it and not because I asked them to.  I know, I know.  I am beginning to sound like a crazy woman. 

I came across an interview a few weeks ago whereby multi-talented Australian actor-singer-dancer-extraordinaire-all-round-decent-and-wonderful-human-being-and-husband Hugh Jackman, aka Wolfman from the X-men franchise, shared his thoughts on parenting.  What?  Did I just sound like I have a celebrity crush?  Awww, you caught me out.  But I am only human!  Anyhow, Hugh (Haha!  First name basis!  If only!) talked about how he “yells at his kids, they drive him to despair, he worries that his deficiencies as a parent mean he is slowly but surely stuffing them up”.  He also talked about and how children can push your buttons and make you feel such extreme emotions, and the anger or fire they can sometimes incite.  I was like, “Oh my goodness!  That is EXACTLY how I feel!”  So its just as well I’m not married to Hugh Jackman because it just wouldn’t work out with both of us stressing about the same things.  Sorry Hugh.

My beautiful husband Matt, on the other hand, has such a wonderful approach to parenthood.  When I read out an excerpt from that same article about how so-and-so’s mom said, “Relax, you worry too much.  You feed them, you love them, that’s it”, it was his turn to have his that-is-EXACTLY-how-I-feel moment. I sometimes feel envious of Matt and those of my friends who have this wonderful parenting style whereby they are so attuned to seeing the big picture and able to block out the ‘other stuff’ that, in actuality, is just ‘noise’ ...

But I cannot because at least every other day (if not everyday), there are ‘boxes’ that need to be ticked, exploits that need undertaking and ‘fires’ that need putting out.  AND, if we were BOTH laissez-faire and make-it-up-as-we-go-along, would our household still work the way it works (on a good day)?  Or would those ‘little things’ fall through the cracks because non-verbal clues were missed?  Would the girls learn to think beyond themselves, realise the importance of dreaming, or master the tools needed to pick themselves up and try again with a little fine-tuning?  Am I beginning to sound a little hysterical again? Sorry.  Okay, deep breath and stop panicking over all the ‘what-would-happens’.

At the end of the day, I don’t purport to be ‘superwoman’ and do not even try to pretend to have all the answers.  Honest with my girls about my shortcomings, I am not afraid ask for help and try to encourage the girls to go on fact-finding missions when appropriate. And with three such different individuals whose needs demand that my parenting style is constantly refined and modified as per child and situation; sometimes my appeals for us to work together as a team so the day is smoother works, and other times, not so well.  But it’s the life I have chosen and I am at peace with it.  All we can do is try our best to prepare them to stand confidently and successfully on their own two feet by giving them love, inspiring courage and fostering integrity.

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12. NOT SWEATING THE SMALL STUFF

For as long as I remember, especially up until my mid-30s, I had always been the type to agonize over every detail about every single thing.  When I was a child, it was a means of survival. This essentially mushroomed into something akin to a dispositional wart by the time I was a young adult.  I would get so worked up about things, it would gnaw at my core and manifest into ulcers; firstly in the mouth, and then, at the ripe old age of 20, in my stomach.  Mind you, I must have also come across as if I had a mental disorder, flip-flopping between being a ‘pleaser’ and then becoming hysterical over the most inconsequential of trivialities.

Growing up, both my parents were specialists in sweating the ‘small stuff’.  Mom would deal with her’s by not talking about it directly but her displeasure would always manifest in the form of little digs and spiteful comments at the perpetrator.   The actual cause would, however, ALWAYS remain a mystery as she NEVER wanted to talk about it.  Dad’s style was much more straight-forward.  He would detonate at the slightest of perceived slights. Let’s just say my childhood memories are institutionalized inside an overloaded Pandora’s memory bank of screaming matches and physical, emotional and psychological warfare.  Going to school and staying there for as long as I physically could was my only refuge (shame it didn't translate to fantastic grades!).

I knew I didn’t want to be like them.  But I also did not know any other way to deal with things.  I would oscillate between sweeping it under the carpet and pretending things didn’t bother me, and getting bent out of shape over other things, hiding behind the guise of ‘standing up for myself’.  It was an exhausting way to exist. 

When my stomach ulcer manifested, I knew I had to start making serious changes about the way I saw and reacted to situations as I had obviously, much to my dismay, become a frightening synthesis of BOTH my parent’s dispositions.  All sorts of self-help and journey books were bought over the years as I felt the only person who could help me was me, myself and I.  Additionally,  I did not really want to talk to anyone about what I was going through.  I felt like a failure, a total misfit. 

Anyhow, the multitudes of books including “The Road Less Travelled”, “The Alchemist”, “The Celestine Prophecy”, and “Feel the Fear and Do it Anyway” were all very helpful albeit a protracted ‘journey’!   But it really wasn’t until nearly a decade later, when Matt had come into my life and one day bought me, “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff”.  My first reaction was hurt.  I was like, “What?!  You think I get flustered over little things?! But what about all the times you told me I was perfect?!”.  Then, I felt vulnerable.  That he saw through my struggle even though I thought I had been doing such a good job in muddling through it.  And then, relief.  Here was a guy who not only saw me, warts and all, but still loved me, empathized, didn’t judge, AND wanted to help.  Plus it was a BIG deal for him to pick up that book for me from the sort of aisle he would normally avoid like the plague.  NOW that HAD to be love!!

Well, fast forward nearly 25 years since I first decided the road my parent’s chose for themselves was not for me, my journey to find my inner ‘zen-ness’ is an ongoing process.   Some days, everything I’ve learnt and practised flies out the window and I have spectacular meltdowns.  And then, on other days, I wonder what the fuss is all about and I actually succeed in not 'sweating the small stuff'! 

My goal:   To remember (as often as possible) not to let things get to me and be mindful that I am in control of how I perceive things and my sum reaction.  Oh, and in the big scheme of things, its ALL small stuff.

 

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