Do you ever feel like a walking cliche?

When I was growing up, there were certain statements made by adults that I swore I would never utter. Sadly, however, the passage of time has left me uttering those very statements I used to abhor. It's sometimes amusing when I see the same patient-but-glazed expressions that I used to wear now on the faces of youth-group girls. It appears that congratulations are in order: I've officially entered the age of giving "helpful" advice to the young!

Some examples:

1. My goodness, you've grown!
2. We never used to have [insert technological/sociological innovation here] when I was young.
3. I remember when the original version of [insert song that has recently been covered by young, hip band here] first came out!
4. You'll learn.
5. One day, you'll understand.
   
6. Back when I was young, [insert product here] only cost [insert ridiculously low price here].
7. I used to worry about my waistline before I had kids.
8. I don't understand the fashions these days. Why do people think [insert trend here] is cool?
9. That music is too loud!
10. Once you've had kids, you don't worry about [insert embarrassing issue/anecdote here].

Also amusing are the times when I say, "Do you remember when [insert movie or song here] came out?" only to discover that the person I was speaking to wasn't actually born or fully cognizant then.

I can hear the older generation referring to statement 5 with a knowing "I told you so!".

Quick Update...

Perhaps admitting that you have a problem helps you to overcome it.
Since admitting that I may indeed suffer from SCRADD (Small Child-Related Attention Deficit Disorder), I have put my mind to it, and managed to finish one of the 8 neglected works floating around my home. OK, it wasn't one of the heavy, thoughtful works, just The Devil Wears Prada. But hey, it's a start! If I keep it up, at this rate I may even finish another book by the end of March.

One down, seven to go...

Hats and girlie things...

I've never really considered myself a girlie-girl. For a long time my favourite pastimes really had nothing to do with hair/makeup/dresses/dolls etc. I am proud to say I never owned one of those crying-weeing-feeding baby dolls, either.

But baby girls are cute.

When S was born, I came over all girlie. Suddenly pink re-entered my life after a 20 year absence. I don't know why - some kind of hormone flush, or something.

Now that she's getting older, I have the privilege of seeing her learning to play in her own way. And it's totally different to her brother. J throws things: cars, Lambie, blocks of Lego, crayons - they all take off on some far-off rocket journey across the play room. But S plays differently. Her current favourite thing to do is to try on different hats. Usually she picks up whatever hat is lying around on the floor: her brother's sun hat, mum's green gardening hat, bicycle helmets, or a discarded pink frilly thing. Today, however, she discovered her hat drawer - and it was on for young (S) and old (me).

Who would have thought that watching a baby try on hats would be so much fun?

Developmental Psychology for dummies (i.e. me)

Back in the dark ages (ok, 13 years ago) my psychology studies were bent on determining how much of ourselves are based on nature vs. nurture. Having small children is like a long-term qualitative study of the above issue. Sometimes it's fascinating. Sometimes it makes me think that people should not become psychologists until they have had children themselves. Sometimes it's just baffling.

Case study no. 1: Oldest son. When asked to do something, he will attempt to whine plaintively, until told to cease immediately. Oldest son therefore does so, and performs the previously requested task.

Case study no 2: Younger daughter. When asked not to do something, she will exhibit a defiant facial expression, and then continue to perform said task with absolute gusto. Reprimands result in loud screaming, object throwing, and general tantrum-like behaviour. Encouragement may give desired result, but only if daughter feels like fulfilling the request in the first place.

What did we do differently? We've certainly been less vigilant with our daughter, simply by weight of the fact that there are now two children to supervise. We're also less uptight about parenting - not freaking out at any minor sniffle or apparent deviation in developmental milestones. Our daughter has also had the added benefit of an older sibling to potentially teach her how to be rough/hit/throw things. But I think the ultimate answer is that she is her own little personality, and the disciplinary methods that worked with J will not cut the mustard with S.

Birth order? Perhaps a little. Parenting method? Probably. But it's amazing to me at how we are created with our little personalities too. Psalm 139 was a big one for me before the kids were born, but it comes up again and again as they grow:

"For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well." (v13-14)

We're not born blank slates, ready to be told who to be. Our personalities aren't some fluid construct that don't have any real concrete existence. Even as young as 13 months, you can see a God-given personality emerging. It's not complete - experience and age will mold and temper certain aspects, as well as giving both of them fodder for future therapy (!).

I've come into contact with people who talk of various "parenting methods" with absolute conviction as if there is only one successful way to rear a child. The problem with these convictions is that they tend to leave out a very important variable: the child's own individuality.

As a parent, it is both a blessing and a challenge. God has given my children their own little personalities already. They have choices to make in growing their own way. My job is to work out how to train them both in a way that won't leave them socially inept, scarred, or psychopathic, and give them a deep love for the one who made them who they are...

Books I am currently reading

I just had a quick look around the house this evening, and discovered no less than 8 partly-read books left around the place. It seems that I've developed SCRADD (small child-related attention deficit disorder).

Offered up into evidence, your honour:

Shalimar the Clown Salman Rushdie
Princess Masako Ben Hills
The Radical Reformission Mark Driscoll
The Devil Wears Prada Lauren Weisberger
Hope in the Midst of a Hostile World (Daniel) George Schwab
The Princess Bitchface Syndrome Michael Carr-Gregg
How Did it Begin? Dr R & L Brasch
This Way to Youth Ministry Robbins

Interesting mix of semi-cerebral and trashy escapism, there. I feel the pressure to maintain the reading of hefty tomes from my study days, to no avail it seems!

Life, the universe, and mashed banana

Looking after small children brings you back to the primal things of life. Things you previously never really bothered to think about, you just did.

Like eating.

Eating is something I have no problem in doing. I like it, particularly if it involves one of the four 'C' food groups: Chocolate, Coke, Confectionery or Coffee. (I am trying hard to be a good nutritional role model for my children, obviously). I usually have no issue in getting the food from the fridge to the mouth with very little conscious effort on my part. In fact, there are often times when I take a biscuit into our study, only to wonder where it disappeared in the short journey to my office chair.

Watching children learn how to eat, however, is another thing entirely.

Our son is slowly learning how to scoop up peas and corn for himself. It's not a new lesson; we've been teaching him for about a year now. Usually he gives up on his fork and picks them up individually, or lets them "disappear" under the table where the dogs lie in wait. Adding sauce to the dinner mix is a dangerous combination. Our early photos of him covered in vegemite sandwich have been replaced by photos of him covered in barbeque sauce. He seems to like that rather a lot.

Our daughter is at a slightly more problematic stage. She's frustrated with having us spoon feed her, but hasn't got the motor skills required to put the spoon in her own mouth. Being the spirited child she is, dinner times now require earplugs or the ability to shovel food like the wind.

And we now have photos of her covered in vegemite sandwiches.