by Roger McEwan
‘People under eighteen are not allowed to buy alcohol.’
Some days I would enjoy coolly stepping back through the logic to once again demonstrate that Liv wasn’t buying alcohol, but it didn’t seem fair. What we were doing just didn’t fit in with her normal world order and, after all, the rules are the rules. You can’t chip away at the foundations of society – where would it end? Babies would soon be buying cigarettes. You have to pick your battles and this one, while very winnable and maybe fun, wasn’t worth fighting.
‘Okay. Sorry Liv, I’ll need my card.’
Liv, who was somewhat embarrassed by the exchange, handed back my card and I completed the transaction. Liv was thankfully no longer viewed as a criminal and the supermarket’s citizens returned to their own important business.
‘I’m sorry, but the store has its policies.’ She clearly felt obliged to justify her actions.
‘Absolutely, it’s really no problem,’ I assured her and we wandered off.
It’ll be interesting to see how my relationship with the children develops as they charge towards full adulthood. A number of people have said to me, no actually they’ve told me: ‘It’ll change, you won’t be able to talk to them and they’ll ignore you.’ Really? That sounds defeatist and generally depressing advice. I doubt it’s a hard-and-fast rule of life that a generation gap is mandatory, even in the technology-fuelled age in which we live.
It’s easy enough to allow a gap to develop and it’s hard to bridge when you’re busy, but I often come back to Goethe’s quote that started this chapter: ‘The things that matter most must never be at the mercy of the things that matter least.’ It would be easy to get overly fixated on my own life – work, study, this book, rugby league, cricket, Formula One, romance, fitness, movies, reading, drinking, sleeping on the couch, etc. I may think I’m important and in the thick of things, but Goethe reminds me that I’m more likely to be in the thick of thin things.
Reflections
If you’re interested and tuned in to your children you’ll remain relevant in their lives.
You need to understand and embrace the concept that your children come first, not you.
Your relationship with your children needs to evolve at the same speed as your children. Don’t make the mistake of treating them as children when they are far closer to being adults.
It’s never too late to take a full and real interest in your children, though it’s best if this starts from when they are born.
Ask yourself whether you would be okay with your children knowing the pin number for your credit card. If the answer is no, why?
Don’t let your children buy alcohol for you, society simply isn’t ready.
24. Sons and Daughters
Sugar and spice and all things nice. That’s what little girls are made of. Snips and snails and puppy-dogs’ tails. That’s what little boys are made of.
Nineteenth-century nursery rhyme
If you weren’t aware, snips are the odds and ends typically collected by small boys. Nails, screws, heel plates, pens, pencils, rubbers, wrappers and, in Rog’s words, interestingly shaped rocks. These snips weighed down his pockets for weeks. Liv doesn’t collect snips, or snails for that matter, and I only find forgotten money in Liv’s pockets, which I consider a bonus for doing the washing.
It’s these differences that are the focus of this chapter. The similarities and dissimilarities I’ve noticed between raising boys and girls. The differences aren’t obvious when the children are small but as they move from tot to tweenie and especially through puberty and into their teens, that’s when they started to become more obvious. At least that’s what I thought.
I’ve been mulling over this question ever since I heard Tyler Durden philosophise in Fight Club that ‘we’re a generation of men raised by women’. I’ve come to the conclusion that my generation was, but I don’t think my son’s generation will be. That may be wishful thinking. But at the very least my son isn’t. He’s been raised by both sexes and all that took was for me to be as interested and engaged as Rose and that was easy. I’m sure there’s research that will back up my commonsense opinion that boys grow into more rounded, confident men with good, solid, calm male role models in their life. As a dad you’re a vital piece of the puzzle, irrespective of your marital status, as long as you remain a positive role model. Children don’t need erratic, fragile and frantic role models.
Although we’re all products of our own history and environment, equally I think we have the ability to change and evolve. George Santayana, a twentieth-century philosopher, said those who don’t remember the past are doomed to repeat it. He wasn’t referring just to individuals but to societies, countries and the world. Dads from previous generations have powerful lessons for us, good and bad. My own dad was part wonderful and part absent, and I hope I have embraced the wonderful and learned how not to be absent. It was the thinking of the time that dads got involved in parenting when a good telling-off was required. I say this quite neutrally and I don’t harbour any resentment against my dear old dad, who passed away gently about a decade ago. It was simply the way it was. But I think I’ve learnt that this method was inherently flawed and you end up becoming something akin to the family bouncer.
BOYS WILL BE BOYS
Returning to the current generation, I’d like to say that it’s more an old-fashioned stereotype that sees boys as relatively slovenly with a poor eye for detail. Actually I’d like not to, but Rog confirms this stereotype on a daily if not hourly basis. His clothes are always stored in a piled, jumbled mess. The pockets of his school trousers remain full of rubbish, although when I suggested that this was the case, he denied it saying actually only the front-left pocket was for rubbish. ‘The other pockets are for items of value.’
The clincher for me came at the start of the school year when Rog was fourteen. I bought him a new school bag as the last two had each lasted barely six months. I gave him his new bag with the instructions ‘I’m tossing your old bags out as they’ve had it. Can you go through them and make sure there’s nothing in them?’
‘Yep,’ Rog said without taking his eyes from the hoard of zombies his character was busily cutting a swathe through. About thirty minutes later Rog emerged from his room and dropped the bags in front of me.
‘Checked, emptied and ready for the trash?’ I politely inquired.
‘Yep.’ My teenage boy is not verbose, which I’m sure is common.
I picked up the bags and I was about to head outside to complete the task when I stopped and turned to look closely at Rog.
‘You’ve gone through these thoroughly?’ I asked suspiciously.
‘Yep.’
‘You do know what the word thorough means, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ Rog answered with an exaggerated smile.
‘You don’t mind if I check them?’
‘Be my guest.’ At last something resembling a sentence.
I went through the bags and when I’d finished I sat back and exclaimed, ‘And what do we have here, Ali Baba?’ Rog appeared, all in one teenage look, unimpressed, confused and sheepish. From the two bags, checked and certified devoid of anything useful, I found: $7.50, a pair of clean socks, a ruler, a pop-up umbrella and an unpresented cheque for his school for $22. Unbelievable!
Rog’s lack of attention to detail is worsening as he embraces his teenage status. Very recently we took a short holiday and I instructed Rog and Liv what they needed to take in the way of clothes. I must shoulder some of the blame for not checking his heavy bag, but I was staggered when I found that rather than packing for the trip, he just didn’t unpack his clothes from when he was dropped off. So his bag contained five times the clothes needed, including his full set of cricket gear. The saying ‘Boys will be boys’ doesn’t do Rog justice sometimes.
Liv, on the other hand, does her bit for female stereotypes b
y adoring and collecting teddy bears, as I’ve described. She has hundreds and seems to be able to remember all their names. She still sleeps with a chosen few. Brown teddy was her first-ever teddy bear, Lee was from Leeds castle, there’s Soffy, whose name is a mystery to me, Cute is a tiger from Dream World, Eeyore was a birthday present from Euro-Disney and Doughnut she got as a present when she was ill. Collecting and looking after teddy bears was Liv’s keenest hobby until she hit puberty.
PUBERTY
Puberty, that’s a difficult subject at the best of times. It marks the point when boys and girls charge off in differing, erratic directions and your parenting needs to diversify and evolve to keep up. Before puberty I think you can raise boys and girls pretty much the same and treat them based on their own varied personalities. Sports, rough-and-tumble times, chores, movies, responsibilities, money and bedtime are all much of a muchness. There are variations required due to age but not many, I think, due to gender. Puberty tips that situation on its head.
As a parent I wasn’t looking forward to my children going through puberty let alone them coming out the other side. Right up to that stage children are, well, children. Mostly cute, funny, short, easy going, early to bed, chatty – and they think you know everything. Puberty marks the time when they transition into awkward, tall, difficult, demanding, late-to-bed mini-adults – who think they know everything.
I was more daunted by the impact of puberty on Liv as, like I am sure the vast majority of men, my experience in matters of ‘women’s health’ is extremely limited. It’s not a topic of conversation that men are included in and, as a general rule, I think we’re satisfied with that. So at best I can only claim to have a limited, theoretical knowledge of the topic. Liv is not a theoretical concept and therefore it was with some trepidation that the time drew near when I would be confronted with reality.
For those readers who are keen to hear my insight into how single dads cope with the physical aspects of their daughters going through puberty, my sincere apologies. Rose, far better equipped to deal with the subject, handled everything and the subject has literally never been discussed. This obviously suited Liv as otherwise I’m confident she would have included me where necessary.
In respects to boys going through puberty, physically that’s mercifully straightforward, though it does force dads to block out their own experiences of what life was like at the equivalent time. The effects of puberty on Rog are now obvious for all to see. He is now almost as tall as me and has hairier legs, something he can thank or blame his mother’s genes for. He hasn’t quite started shaving regularly yet, the one curse for all well-groomed men, but that looks months away, not years.
CO-PARENTING
Puberty is a clear example of the benefits of co-parenting after separation versus solo parenting. No matter how hard you try, you simply can’t be both sexes. I pondered at the time what I would’ve done without the aid of Rose. I would’ve needed help and I think I’d have made sure that Liv had females in her life that she could confide in and trust. I’ve been blessed with brilliant, capable nannies and arranging them to discuss the subject with Liv may have worked well. I would’ve also bought books for Liv in advance, which I did anyway, and maybe, just maybe, Liv and I may have had a couple of frank, awkward conversations. In the end I think that what actually happened was the preferred solution for everyone. Especially me, if I’m honest!
Co-parenting, if done effectively, removes many of the potential issues that face solo parents. In many respects co-parenting is a continuation of a nuclear family but performed as a parental tag team. My children have been equally exposed to male and female parental influences, and I would argue strongly that they’ve had far more dad time than the majority of nuclear families in which abdication and delegation are often the norm.
This area raises an interesting question regarding same-sex parents and whether they have similar issues to solo parents. I can offer only my thoughts as I don’t know a same-sex couple who have children where the other parent isn’t somewhere in the mix. My suspicion is, as there are likely to be many people that don’t believe same-sex couples can raise children effectively, that they do a far better job than the majority of parents and make sure their children are exposed to all required role models. That’s just my hunch though.
With Rog and Liv now in the ‘almost-adult’ category my parenting has had to be tailored for each of them. But when I wrote down a list of the differences and similarities that I’d observed, there were far more similarities than differences. They both need more personal space now – barging into their rooms unannounced, for example, is now a no-no. Indeed their doors, which used to be permanently open, are now often closed and I respectfully knock, sometimes I have to kick, and await an invitation. The exception is in the morning when they’re at their most useless and I need to barge in singing.
While both children are now self-sufficient on the surface, neither can prioritise to save themselves despite my constant use of Stephen Covey’s popular habit: put first things first. Time management is a skill clearly developed later in life and I’m sure I was equally useless at their age. They leave important things to the last minute, which leaves muggins to rush around and stick his finger in various dykes to save the day.
Similarly, nor can they tidy up after themselves, get to bed on time, take dishes out to the kitchen and still, despite years and years of nagging, change the toilet roll. They share an appetite for screens and social media and so are policed equally. That’s a real battle that my generation of parents is fighting – trying to wrest young adults out of the cyber world and into the real world.
More alarmingly, they’ve both developed titanic appetites. They can demolish snacks at will and still put away their dinner, the anticipated leftovers and dessert. Liv in particular cuts herself slices of bread that leave me wondering which is the slice and which is the loaf. Thankfully, neither appear to be putting on weight, and so I’m assuming that this is part of what is universally referred to as a growth spurt. I’m hoping it stops some time soon.
The differences I’ve noticed are mainly in the interpersonal areas. Rog doesn’t hug as much now and our physical interactions are more likely to involve sparring, gutsing – which is a variation of sparring we’ve developed where you try and jab your opponent in the guts – and wrestling. Disturbingly, I’ve found of late that my ability to dominate him physically is becoming increasingly problematic. Where I used to subdue him with minimal fuss, now if he doesn’t want to be subdued it takes most of my strength to come out on top. I fear that the time when our physical strengths are equal is just around the corner and I won’t even contemplate a world where Rog can wrestle me to the floor. The other noticeable aspect with Rog is that he’s become more reclusive and so I’ve had to make an extra effort to engage with him.
Liv still enjoys hugs, although this may be because she’s also a little younger. Significantly, Liv has found her voice and realised that she can make her presence felt. Shouting and slamming doors, mainly at Rose’s house I’m pleased to report, are two of her preferred methods for getting her thoughts across. I have started telling her that ‘We aren’t shouty people’ and ‘Your point doesn’t become stronger because you yell it’. At the moment it’s done in good spirits, and we both still find the humour in it, but something tells me that isn’t always going to be the case. No matter what I may encounter I intend to stick to my philosophy of being the calmest person in the room.
The other new areas in Liv’s world are make-up and boys. In a short period of time she has amassed an immense supply of make-up items – primarily from Rose obviously as I wouldn’t have a clue what to buy – and she delights in activities such as painting her nails. I encourage this activity in a very dad-like way by playfully sneering ‘What a girl’. Simultaneously, she’s discovered boys, which is every father’s worst nightmare. It’s still early days and so I don’t have a huge amount of experie
nce to fall back on or relate, but I plan to be an adult and not a dumb stereotypical father whose only response is to try to hold back time. Rose and I allow, and help Liv organise, daytime meetings with boys, ensuring there are adults present at all times. I simply cannot refer to them as dates yet.
The differences between raising boys and girls reminds me of one of my favourite sayings and not a management one this time: ‘The more it changes, the more it’s the same thing’. Yes, there are differences between raising boys and girls, but the basics of parenting don’t change and if you’re an engaged parent then you will likely take it all in your stride. The main danger is being left behind or, worse, not being in the race at all.
Reflections
Break from history and make this a generation of children raised by men and women.
Boys are stereotypically portrayed as messy and not particularly thorough because it seems they are.
Puberty is a difficult time. If you are a single dad with a daughter(s), depending on your circumstances this is a time that may need careful planning.
Co-parenting, if organised well, can be arguably more effective than nuclear families for involving both parents in raising children.
Raising boys and girls is more similar than you may think, even post-puberty.
Epilogue
To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.
Ralph Waldo Emerson (writer, 1803-82)
INTERIOR (INT). SINGLE HOTEL ROOM – NIGHT
The room is crowded with four beds, three singles and a double. The room lights are out and the only light comes from the TV on which a movie is playing. DAD lies on the double bed between LIV and ROG and they’re watching the movie. ROSE lies on a single bed facing away, talking quietly on a mobile phone. The movie finishes.