Restraint

One of the places I don't take my conversation in this space on a very regular basis is on the subject of parenting.  More specifically: the how and why. 

The reason, for me, is a bit of a catch-22.  Next to sex, parenting is the subject upon which I dwell more than any other.  The rearing of our boys is more important than any other task (it deserves a bigger word than that) my wife and I are engaged in.  So, I frequently find myself pondering both the forest and the trees of the issue.  What ineluctably follows is a semi-analytical comparison of my current thoughts on the matter versus 'case study' examples from my own upbringing.  And that of my wife's, too.

We talk regularly about our respective childhoods - the good, the bad and the indifferent - and compare philosophies on just how the hell we're gonna help these boys of ours turn themselves into men.  We know what we liked when we were kids, so more of our conversations tend to focus on what we didn't like (or what, in hindsight, didn't work) and how we will do things differently.  It's important, I think, not to follow blindly in the path set down by our parents, but also not to spurn it entirely in order to blaze a new trail through an array of old, avoidable mistakes.

The natural progression of these talks has yielded one enviable conclusion in that there are very few major (or even minor) issues where Amy and I take opposing stands.  I chalk some of this up to the fact that we entered the parenting playground in our late twenties and were already pretty well established as individuals.  One of the most frequent comments we make to each other is how much younger our parents (and *most* parents of previous generations) were when they started a family.  My mother was 23 when I was born; at that same age I was still getting used to having sex on a regular basis, never mind caring for the by-blow of such coupling.

So, whereas discussion about parenting inevitably raises my past, I'm certainly not going to make it a topic of conversation in a space my parents make a habit of reading.  My brother and I turned out to be quite fine young men, as did my wife and her sister grow into the fabulous broads they are today.  We are who we are both because of and in spite of our upbringing, so it would be naive and callous of me to criticise actions taken on my behalf (or observed) when I was a kid, since they helped shape me today, even though I may not now agree with some of the underlying philosophy.

I'm driven to make these notes from the gist of the last few posts made over at Kirala.  (If insightful, earthy, pragmatic and entertaining prose on the vagaries of raising an erstwhile difficult boy and why you shouldn't move to Norway for the sake of naive puppy love (among other topics) are your cup of tea, then please read.) 

I've demonstrated here before a noted lack of restraint for certain visceral revelations.  But so much of what I think about parenting is tied to the juxtaposition of my current experience as a parent to that of my previous experience of being parented.  I can't write about one without bringing up the other.  I'll eviscerate myself here, at times, but a degree of propriety, however much I prefer to ignore it, is due.

Perhaps this is just a first step in talking around it, then.  Sharing the daily joys and trials of life with our boys is well and good, and will continue ad nauseum, but it's the stuff that drives me I want to explore more.  Some of it I'll just have to talk around.

Comments

[rick]

Good. We'll be looking forward to the talk arounds.

Something in here makes me think of Sir Boyle Roche, an Irish MP who was apparently the Yogi Berra of the 18th Century, famous for his malapropisms. The one that comes to mind reflecting on the parental experience is "Happy are the parents with no children.," but I'm fond too of "little children who could neither walk nor talk were running around cursing their maker."

Parenting: it's the ultimate extreme sport.

[Tasha]

I, obviously, think about the same things as you do, almost every minute, somewhere in the back of my brain. I was lent this book, "Making the Terrible Twos Terrific". The authors essential philosophy is that parenting went to the dogs after WWII, when families relocated father from each other, and the extended families weren't there to give advice to newbies on how to raise kids. At that point, there was an influx of professionals, who may or may not have had kids, available to give advice. It turned from something instinctual and multi-generational, to something very theoretical.

I don't want to take away from the usefulness of professionals, but I do want to say that using one's parents' parenting techniques has been done, SUCCESSFULLY, for many, many years.

It was an eye opening read. I look forward to your musings and insight.

[Mark]

Ah yes, and one reason I don't say much about parenting out here, either.

But, that said, I also find myself almost weekly realizing the value of some of my parents' methods.

[marian]

Thanks for the link. I find it difficult enough to talk around a teenaged son and the fact that just about everyone we know reads my blog but refrains from ever commenting or saying anything about it except to each other. Goddam lurkers. Once in a while I feel like screaming. But otherwise I try to look at the self-imposed restraint as being good for me.

Here's your payment for that linky:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=4wGR4-SeuJ0