Parent Guilt

I’ve recently watched a comedy/drama programme called Breeders. It was created by Martin Freeman who also plays the stressed out father in the show. In one episode he says to his 13 year old son “As a parent you make over a hundred decisions a day and you just hope that you get them right.”

Of all the decisions I’ve had to make in my life, those on the behalf of my kids have been easily the most challenging.

Since becoming a father I have changed. I see the world very differently now and, in many ways, I try to see it from their perspective. It is them who have to live in this world now. True I’m not old or ‘passed it’, but I also think that I’ve had my day. If I died tomorrow I’d be happy. I’ve seen enough. I could be greedy and want to see more, but look at what I’ve achieved already.

I survived school. I had loving parents. I went on caravan holidays and ate those mini choc chip cookies in my pajamas with about 8 other family members squished into the van. I felt that funny crush feeling when the ‘girl of my dreams’ walked past me in the school corridor. I also felt that crushed feeling when she never acknowledged me when I said hello.

I fell in love, out of love and all the different emotions in between. I’ve met good people along the way, some not so good. I’ve had some great jobs, eventually finding my vocation. I married my soulmate. Fathered two beautiful boys. I learned a new language. Moved to a different country.

I’ll carry on making memories, but my point is that if it was all to end tomorrow I would doff my cap to the Grim Reaper and bow out gracefully. The Grim Reaper doesn’t scare me, you see, he’s never been too far away. And anyway he’s a pussycat really. He can only take my shell. My energy will be around forever. My energy (or spirit if you’re spiritual) might even turn up to my old crush’s house to write sinister messages on her bathroom mirror!

But now it is my boys turn. They’ll make their own memories and a fair few of them will probably resemble mine, just like yours will. And as a parent I feel that it is my responsibility to prepare them the best I can. That means making decisions and hoping that I can get them right. Most of the time anyway.

I’m currently having to use my eight year old’s aftershave. He enjoys gelling his hair and dressing smart so a couple of years ago we decided to get him a set of aftershaves, a comb and little mirror. Nothing too lavish or expensive. But we recognized that he was very different from his older brother, who much prefers the ‘just got out of bed’ look.

I don’t have any aftershave at the moment. I could buy some quite easily from the supermarket who do a nice selection. But along with socks and undies, I don’t feel like buying my own aftershave is my responsibility. It is that of the gift giver on my birthday and Christmas. I currently have holes in my socks with my undies swiftly catching up and I am creeping into my eight year olds bedroom to nick a bit of old spice. This will be the situation until November when I’m hoping a gift giver will replenish my underwear stock and Eau de Toilette on my birthday.

My point is that, now, I don’t ask for much. I need my kids to be happy and grow up feeling loved. That’s it. Twenty years ago I wouldn’t leave the house without spraying half a bottle of something expensive on me and it would have been a disaster if I had to get dressed in the gym changing rooms wearing holy socks and undies. But priorities change.

My kids will see many wonderful things, but I won’t pretend to them that life is a fairytale either. As they grow older they will see the ugly sides to life too. Maybe that was the purpose of us moving to a different country. Within three months of finishing at their school in England, they were in a school in the Portuguese countryside where nobody spoke English (apart from the English teacher). My wife and I pretty much pushed them into the water and said ‘There you go, swim!’

I want them to have chances in life and to help create opportunities for them, but I don’t want to make it too easy for them.

I’ve always felt parent guilt. You know, that feeling that in some way you are letting your kids down. Was I around enough for them as babies? Did I teach them well enough when we had to home school? Is taking them away from their only home that they know in England the right thing to do?

Taking Jonas out of his football team was one of the most difficult things. He was proud to play for his home town. Bloody good he was too! And the guilt continues in that I haven’t pushed for him to play for his new home town yet. Jonas is the timid one out of my two boys. Only last Monday he sobbed at the school gates on his first day back after the summer holidays because he didn’t want to go in. And there’s been a few occasions where he has not wanted to join in activities during the summer due to his anxieties of leaving us. So I’m not sure a new football team is right for him just yet. I want him to get a year or two of school under his belt first.

But does my decision help me sleep at night? No. Parent guilt taps me on the shoulder as I’m just dozing off and says ‘Oi, you smelly, tatty socked sorry excuse of a dad. Let him play football or he’ll resent you forever!’

But I’ll prove parent guilt wrong in what he says, because from November I’ll have no tatty socks and I’ll smell like Paco Rabane!