I have been listening to Woman's Hour on Radio 4 again this morning, as I do most mornings. The discussion was about choosing to have children versus choosing to remain childless. I was reminded of a piece which I wrote a while ago. Coincidentally, my thoughts have been on babies and children for the past few days, as our younger child turned twenty yesterday. Finally, the teenage years are over. A new chapter is beginning. Here is the piece.
I Wish them Luck the young married couple next door have decided to have a baby good for them I wish them luck No really, I do But I also wish someone would tell them, and I know that no-one will and even if they did, the poor souls would not listen to a word of it, that they are not just having a baby – they will be having a tiny infant who cries in the night and demands their attention - their attention no-one else is going to attend to its needs they will have to and they alone or together if they choose a teething, gurning one year old who cries in the night and demands to be soothed not just once, but many times a defiant toddler who says No before he learns to say Yes, or please, who lies on his back on the floor and kicks his feet and screams very loudly when he does not get his own way, and produces large amounts of tears, snot and poo, generally into nappies and eventually, after you have worked out some sort of system or read a very clever book, but probably mostly just listened to your own mum, into the toilet. a small child who socialises with other small children and learns things from them, not just from you. Words like bum and fart and other useful terms for bodily functions a small child who has to go to school but may not understand why this is so who may go there the first day, come home and say – so, I’ve been there, where do I go tomorrow? a small child who asks interminable questions, usually in the car at roundabouts or hazardous crossings or while you are trying to remember who you are, where you work and what you should have with you in order to do that work. A functioning brain is often helpful, but scarily difficult to retain. a slightly larger child who likes to have friends round to play which necessitates conversing with other parents, which often leads to comparisons which are nearly always, no in fact are always distinctly unhelpful. Especially if their smart little Alec can read before he enters primary 1 So, the slightly larger child sounds a bit easier – yes and no – they still go to bed largely when you say so you know where they are all the time , as you have a calendar strapped to your person at all times so that you don’t forget to collect them from swimming/judo/karate/piano/French lessons, but they have by now decided what they do and don’t like to eat. So you eat what they eat. Do you like being an eight year old again? No, I didn’t think so. Best to feed then what you have, if you possibly can. Excellent. The even larger child is lurching towards being a teenager. A word that did not exist in recent times. well, when I was one, I wasn’t. It wasn’t. They weren’t. There weren’t any. Well, there were, but they didn’t know that they were. If you see what I mean. Maybe you still are one. And have just had a baby. How scary is that? So, the teenager emerges from the cocoon of puberty, only they don’t hide away much. And they’re quite noisy. Play loud music. Assert their rights. Without taking any responsibility. Treat parents like slaves. Only worse. But then that’s probably our fault. And then, eventually, this tiny infant, baby, small child, bigger child, big child, teenager, becomes a … human being so, not a baby, then? no, a lot, lot more than that. be careful what you wish for.
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