Our time for parenting is not yet over

Someone once said something about raising children that I’ve found to be abundantly true. “You will always worry” she said. “When they sleep you’ll worry they are sleeping and when they wake up you’ll worry they aren’t sleeping.” I probably heralded this piece of advice because I am a natural born worrier.

I had lots to worry about, but because you aren’t my therapist let’s concentrate on just one thing at a time.

When my son was really young I worried he was shy. He was the behind-the-legs-hider kind of child, he was reticent to make himself seen or heard. I worried he’d be trodden on and his sensitive shy nature would mean making friends could be hard. I was scared. What happened if he got bullied?

But then he grew up in age and confidence, there was my rambunctious little angel, scared of nothing and no-one. Loud, confident and self assured. And I began to worry again. What if he became a bully? What if he was so loud and confident that he forgot how to be compassionate and caring and thoughtful. How would I ever handle it if my child was the cause of someone else’s unhappiness?

Turns out, like most worries, that stress has been unfounded. He’s a good kid. He’s outgoing but compassionate. He’s got a big circle of friends but he’s still sensitive to the needs of other. And he’s very aware of being kind, it’s something we drum home a lot in this house.

But I’m aware that as a teenager our strong influence as parents is going to be challenged by the influence of his friends, that’s how growing up works. And, although he is friendly with great kids whose parents I know and trust, this sits heavily with me when I read about groups of hideous teenage boys right on my doorstep.

Mieke Buchan wrote for Rendezvous earlier this week about an incident involving a large and threatening group of teenage boys the same age as my son. In part she writes

“My best friend Alison and I were walking arm in arm after a laughter-filled birthday lunch with some of the best women we know. It had been a stellar Saturday so far, the sun was shining and our spirits were high.

The group of boys was spread across the path, so we found our way through and kept walking. I heard mumbling and rustling behind us and realised we’re being followed.

“Oi girls, you like that, do you … ooh yeah, come on girls.”

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“Yeah girls, you like that, come on girls.”

I turned around to find the 15-year-old who was heckling us mere metres behind, while his posse of teens seemed to be growing. He was several inches shorter than me, but stepped forward and glared right into my face. I realised there were more boys than I first thought and as I surveyed the group I saw no empathy in their eyes. This is a sport, and I can tell this is something they have definitely done before.”

You can (and should) read the full article here.

I read the column, not feeling the fear I might have once felt as a woman, but rather with the fear of a mother whose son might not just come across this group of boys but that one day, he might be involved with them in some way.

I wonder who their parents are. I wonder if they know where their kids are and what they are doing. I wonder how much time they spend with them and although I try desperately hard not to, I mentally judge them as parents. Why aren’t they stopping their kids from behaving like this? Why haven’t they taught them respect?

As hard as I try not to take this judgement away with me or not to rely on it to make me feel better about my own parenting, I can’t but wonder if my helicopter parenting days weren’t in vain.

The notion of over parenting gets a bad rap, we read about the detrimental affects on children of parents who’ve made life too easy for their kids or ironed out all their worldly creases, who’ve not taught their kids independence and resilience . And then, on the other side we read about parents who treat their kids like they are adults before their 12th birthdays, who let them make their way and their own decisions trusting that it will teach them independence and responsibility but they rob them of the carefree days of being a kid.

I know my son needs his space and independence more than any other time in his past. But I also know that he needs our love and guidance even if it’s given in a different way to when he was a child.

The paths our teens have to navigate is not black and white, there is no right way to be an individual. It’s not about learning to use cutlery or how to read and write, this is about the real world and how we add to it. It’s learning to be a good person in a society that is not always perfect, it’s about having a strong sense of humanity so that the concept of respect for others comes as easily. It’s about values and ideals and showing the world what kind of a human being you are.

This needs parenting. Our time for worrying (and showing love and guidance) is not yet up.