When my kids became my teachers
When you meet your baby for the first time, powerful biological instincts kick in and you promise yourself you will devote the rest of your life to protecting this child, keeping it safe, ensuring it will never have a moment of sadness, and teaching it everything it needs to know for a happy, successful and prosperous life.
You make a pact to feed them only healthy food so they never have a taste for junk food. You will teach them manners early on so politeness becomes their default. You will show them that books are better than iPads so they will never become addicted to technology. You will take them for hikes so they will always appreciate the benefits of the outdoors. You will explain the virtues of higher education so they will be motivated to succeed. You will enrol them in toddler soccer so they will have an early appreciation for the benefits of teamwork. And the list goes on…
You believe this to be true through the first few sleep-deprived weeks and the ensuing months of stumbling through developmental milestones but the cracks in your resolve start to appear remarkably early. The breastfeeding doesn’t go as planned, the sleep training doesn’t yield the promised results. The gadget that soothed all of your friends’ babies does nothing for your baby. The foolproof tantrum-taming technique backfires on you. They wail for gummy bears at the checkout despite the hours you spend puree-ing squash and carrots. And, even though you have been reading to them since they were in the womb, the kindergarten teacher tells you they’re slightly behind the other kids.
Five minutes earlier…
“Why would you bring me to a cave if you didn’t want me to climb it?”
You slowly realize that they came into the world with their own wiring, their own personality and ultimately, their own life journey. Turns out they are not blank canvasses where you can sketch all of your teachings or empty vessels for you to pour all your wisdom. Yes, you are in charge of their survival and you can do a lot to set them up to thrive but they are not an extension of you; they are a fully-formed human and with each passing year they will show you that have their own mind. Few things are harder than watching your teenager blunder headlong into a terrible mistake and know that there is nothing you can do except stand by and be ready to help them pick up the pieces when it all goes wrong.
But if you keep an open mind, there is a beautiful silver lining here in that you will reach a point where your kids become your teachers. At first you will reject because it goes against the natural order of things. You are the one who has been kicked around by life already. You know the pitfalls, the people to avoid, the choices that will only cause pain, the career paths that are the most lucrative, etc. But if you keep an open mind, you will find out that your children are special beings who come into your life to teach you things you need to know.
Now that my kids are in their late teens, I learn from them every day. That doesn’t mean I have relinquished my parental duties. I am still their mother, the one who runs the house, the cook, the provider. Despite exhaustion, I drive them to practices at 6 am and I cook them food at 11 pm. I nudge them to get their homework done. I give them advice, I cheer them up when they’re down. I am here for them no matter what. But that doesn’t mean I can’t learn from them.
My teens share some of my personality traits but they also have predilections that are foreign to me. My eldest son goes through life believing that things will work out and he’s usually right. He tells me to relax and put problems into perspective and to “sleep on it”. My youngest teaches me that worrying what others think is a waste of time and that it’s okay to change your mind and reinvent yourself whenever you feel like it.
Did my efforts to keep them away from video games, turn them against sugar and cultivate a lifelong habit of etiquette work? Nope! They’re human after all and there’s now more than a decade of external influence and inborn personality standing between them and my early teachings.
It’s been 17 years since I held my first baby in my arms and my instinct to protect him and his brother has never gone away and it never will. But I no longer believe I know more than them or that I have nothing to learn. They are amazing kids. They are my greatest teachers and there’s not a single day I don’t give thanks that I have them in my life.