Parenting – Winning The War Or At Least Losing Gracefully

A parenting lesson, which a conversation today brought back to me and which I thought I’d share.

Back in 1998 when we visited friends in Bahrain, the Lawyer, aged 8, was heavily into Pokémon – the soft toys, the cards and the Game Boy games (blue and red, if you recall). I guess it is only the preteens and their parents of those times who will remember the fascination and  sheer overwhelming bloody horror of the marketing that swamped us following the release of the games and all the clutter and hoopla that accompanied the launch – given this was just after those ghastly Tamagotchis had ruined our lives – you had to ‘keep them alive’ – oh how I wanted to drown the little bastards – all this seemed to be, back then, the stuff of parental nightmares. I wonder what the equivalent is today?

Anyway, there was something about that trip – a longish break from work, two long haul fights and a lot of down-time – that gave me the opportunity to do something I would never have seen myself doing in several millennia and still don’t really believe I did – I took over a Game Boy hand set, plugged in a Pokémon Blue cassette and played the game from start to finish, going up the levels until I had completed it. My chosen Pokémon was Charmander who evolved as they do, though I cannot recall into what. Some memories are happily blocked out. I became obsessed with, and obsessive about, it – when one of the hosts’ children found the handset and was on the verge of resetting it to play the game himself I nearly killed him. It took me something like 25 hours 47 minutes and 12 seconds (I don’t remember exactly) to finish it and, well yes, I was just a  little chuffed with myself. I was 42 years old and should have joined Pokémon Anonymous (‘My name is Geoff and I’ve not evolved for three months’ – cue cheers).

My comeuppance came in 2000. Pokémon, The Movie – a quite ghastly piece of cinematic anime – was followed swiftly by Pokémon 2000. By now we were in San Francisco (we travelled – what can I say?). On one wet day we were with a group of  friends and fractious under twelves who were so hyper that the only way to stop the National Guard being called out to stop the riot was to offer them their choice of film. Yep, unanimity to see Pokémon 2000. Each parent looked at the other briefly and then looked away. Into the howling silence the Textiliste offered ‘Geoff likes Pokémon. He played the game from start to finish’. Oh how they cheered, how they whooped and hollered. Such was the outpouring of goodwill that the reinforced Special Relationship and the Blair/Bush lovefest were the inevitable consequences.

I sat through 114 minutes of torture – who needs extraordinary rendition when Hollywood can do this to you? The San Francisco Chronicle wrote: ‘If you have to go see this film, take your tax return and a torch – it’ll be more fun’.

I survived with the love and support of my family, a lot of counselling and copious slices of cake. I blocked out Pokémon from my life. Well until that godawful Pokemon Go phase but let’s not go there…

Or at least I thought I had. Wind the clock forward to 2014 and I found myself helping fund a piece of fan fiction anime for my Nephew…. another post probably… during which I embedded in YouTube. Research, you know? When clicking through it I came across a post by IntrovertJapan on the subject of high quality fan based films of Japanese anime and computer games.  It included a fan based film trailer for a live action Pokémon Movie. With a degree of trepidation I clicked on it. Brilliant. It’s dark, moody and grim and uses Pokémon for the equivalent of cock fighting within the backdrop of illegal gaming. I would happily see this movie. I feel cured, vindicated (no, that’s tosh) but certainly a tiny weeny bit better about my lost day and a bit while hunched over that Gameboy console and then in that dark picture house.

And the lesson?  Redemption comes via a Youtube clip on the internet? Don’t play with computer games because you don’t know where that addiction might lead?

No. It’s because thinking back to 1998 reminded me of something. In part it’s about letting children have their own childhood and not involving yourself in it too much. By playing that game I wanted to know what my children were doing, partly to help them but partly to be a cool dad. My father never ever tried to be the equivalent of cool. We, the Archaeologist and I, were allowed our own space to be us – doing stuff our parents wanted nothing to do with. Today we want to be our children’s friends and to monitor and regulate in the name of safety and being great loving parents. And that’s kind of ok (even if we risk bringing up overstimulated children who are incapable of dealing with boredom – the subject of another post maybe). But it seems to me that the closer we get in those early years, the more important it is that we prepare ourselves for the inevitable time when we are pushed away. My parents were never pushed away – they didn’t see the need to be so close in the first place.

There are a lot of dictates around today about how to bring up your children and one of them is that once your children start senior school (in the UK at 11) it is essential that you retain the ability to influence them. You can control them, for sure. Limit their hours on the computer, filter social media etc, keep them indoors via groundings or whatever. But physical control isn’t what we’re talking about. Laying down the law isn’t the same as having influence.

At primary school you drop them off and meet them at the school gates, having had a good debrief on the who’s and what’s with other parents. You organise their playdate and often accompany them, getting to know the parents. If you want it that way, they know little to nothing but your (and their teachers) views on the world.

From 11 it all changes. They want you nowhere near; they want to travel to and from school without you (or if it is with you, without you talking). They want to go on new playdates ( now sleepovers) with people you don’t know and whose parents you don’t meet. Now if you collect them, you wait outside in the car until they emerge, or, better, round the corner and out of sight, all the time wondering if you’ll be arrested for kerb crawling or casing the joint.  You’re given a list of topics to be avoided at parent’s evening and what you can and cannot say in front of their friends. You can proffer advice with little hope of being listened to.

And it’s critical you are listened to. Always has been the case but it feels like, today, it’s more critical. There have always been weirdoes, it’s just we know more about them and feel we have less control over how they can inveigle their ways into our children’s lives.

We want to have that dwindling influence. And you know what? There’s an answer, a simple way that avoids massive fights and sulks and yet allows you to nudge and direct albeit in a  sneaky, underhand and, yet often wholly effective, way. You make those friends of theirs, those sulky miserable teens of other parents, as welcome as you can. You become as cool to them as you can. You welcome them into your house, opening your fridge to them (it worked with us, both boys and girls). You undermine (but just a little) their parents’ rules on drinking Pepsi after nine, or watching GoTs or whatever it is. Because those friends have the influence you lack. They are listened to. And because you aren’t their parents, with all the accompanying baggage, you are given a fair hearing. And messages that your own children will simply not hear from you they will hear from their ‘bezzies’.

Sure it isn’t fool proof; there are friends you really don’t want them to have and it gets pretty tricky with boy/girl friends and your food bills do mount alarmingly but it’s a tactic and as with all wars you need a strategy to fight a long, bloody but effective rear-guard (and be under no illusion – you are on the back foot throughout all this time).

It’s hopeless isn’t it? Bah, bloody teenagers. It does end because one day they will have the same revelation that Mark Twain had so many years ago:

“When I was a boy of 14, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years.” 

And then they ask to borrow money….

And you know what’s keeping you sane? It’s the thought that the point will come when they will discover a universal truth that is hidden from us as children (and even if we are told it, we wouldn’t believe it). One day, assuming they live long enough those awkward, loveable, irritating, reliable, opinionated, stubborn founts of wisdom –  aka your parents – will overnight become your children. From telling you how to drive they become incapable to buying a car without your say so; from expressing their exasperation at your wasting money on an indulgent holiday, they need you to approve their holiday plans; from proffering all sorts of gratuitous and intrusive advise about you home-making choices, they want you to decide if they should sell the house and how to invest the proceeds.

And if there’s one sure fire truth it’s that, if we think it’s difficult to influence our children when they’re 13 to 18, it’s near impossible when they’re north of 70.

About TanGental

My name is Geoff Le Pard. Once I was a lawyer; now I am a writer. I've published several books: a four book series following Harry Spittle as he grows from hapless student to hapless partner in a London law firm; four others in different genres; a book of poetry; four anthologies of short fiction; and a memoir of my mother. I have several more in the pipeline. I have been blogging regularly since 2014, on topic as diverse as: poetry based on famous poems; memories from my life; my garden; my dog; a whole variety of short fiction; my attempts at baking and food; travel and the consequent disasters; theatre, film and book reviews; and the occasional thought piece. Mostly it is whatever takes my fancy. I avoid politics, mostly, and religion, always. I don't mean to upset anyone but if I do, well, sorry and I suggest you go elsewhere. These are my thoughts and no one else is to blame. If you want to nab anything I post, please acknowledge where it came from.
This entry was posted in families, humour, miscellany, thought piece and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

46 Responses to Parenting – Winning The War Or At Least Losing Gracefully

  1. Fascinating philosophy, but what is that Pokey thingy?

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Lucy Brazier says:

    A wonderful read, this. At 37 now, I was too old to be swept up in the Pokemon mania the first time around, but I remember it from my friends’ younger brothers and sisters. A few years ago I was invited by a friend’s teenagers to join them in some Xbox game or other, but the controllers had evolved into such complex devices I didn’t stand a chance at even beginning to learn how to play the blasted thing. Your advice on parenting is probably the most sensible thing I have ever read on the subject. And it involves food, so a very wise philosophy in my book.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I loved this! I am not even a parent but I was sucked in to the storytelling.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. We tried so hard to make sure our kids didn’t watch video nasties, but they’d just go to friends’ houses and watch them instead. I drove my eldest son to school every day to make sure he got there. When I drove away he’d slip off to his friend’s house. You can’t keep them prisoners – you have to let them go. Fill them with advice and love and one day they phone you up and thank you for all you’ve done for them. My son did and I still glow with the memory of it!

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Ritu says:

    Oh this made me nod and shake my head several times in agreement!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. So well put and with such humor! You took me back to my parenting days when my sons were teenagers. Strange the way they behave the same even across different cultures. Oh, how I remember well the day I was no longer cool to be anywhere near them!

    And when it came to wanting “to go on new playdates ( now sleepovers) with people you don’t know and whose parents you don’t meet,” my ten-year-old suffered a terrible hangover one Christmas morning from drinking too much wine with his new friend’s family the night before. He’s never touched the stuff since 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • TanGental says:

      Ah yes, there are pluses if they survive them. I must dig out the post I did about my daughters friends, who I didn’t know, hotboxing our downstairs toilet during her 16th birthday party. We all survived that experience though the dog never really recovered his poise afterwards. The canine pothead is not recommended.

      Liked by 1 person

  7. josypheen says:

    I love this too Geoff! I’m not a parent, but I still nodded along. 🙂

    You know, I totally sympathize with your horror at the pokemon movie. I worked for Pokemon for a few years, and at one point I had to introduce Pikachu and Darkrai to a theater full of excited kids. I was paid to sit through that film and I would still prefer to have skipped it!

    I did *quite* like playing the game (I was meant to give it a go for work) but I found the more recent Pokemon Go far more addictive!

    Liked by 1 person

  8. JT Twissel says:

    I remember having to accompany my children to many movies that were worst than doing taxes….. I’m not sure my children will ever think I have any intelligence at all!

    Liked by 1 person

    • TanGental says:

      It is a punishment inflicted for living a dissolute life in a former incarnation. Just enjoy the fact that, as a mushroom and then a sentient piece of polished grit you had a fabulous time.


  9. Great stuff in here Geoff! Luckily for me, mine grew up just as Pacman (?) came on the scene – they tried to teach me to play it………….

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Elizabeth says:

    I loved reading this. I remember especially driving my daughter and her friends everywhere while they chatted in the back seat.(No electronics yet.) I learned a great deal doing that. I think they really believed I was deaf.

    Liked by 2 people

  11. Perfect! I’m certainly more of a friend parent, but also very involved. I patted myself on the back when my oldest said, “You know, most parents don’t even know what (computer) games their kids play, but YOU play them too!”
    We’re just easing into the pre-teen years, though, and the battles are starting…

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Your last two paras had me nodding slightly tearfully. I can’t put my finger on when the changeover happened but I do now seem to be chief decision maker (even though John gets credited with a lot of it. Being the man you see … aargh!)

    Liked by 1 person

  13. I have read through this nodding my head in agreement all the way through. Our kids must be of similar age & most likely very different, but oh yes I went through the same Pokemon torture 😱 I thought those memories had been buried, but alas you have now resurrected them in me again. Oh the hell!! The same memories of the school days, the ‘little chats’ they gave me regarding, what I was allowed to say, wear, drive…I think I rebelled when I bought a lime green Beetle. They were horrified & made me drop them off at school down a side street so their mates wouldn’t see 😂. Loved this Geoff, has brought back… Ahhh memories

    Liked by 1 person

  14. Charli Mills says:

    A good reflection on an important parenting lesson. I recall the shock of moving to the suburbs where parents competed for Helicopter of the Year. I was not into hovering. But I did enjoy (and still do) when my kids invited me to experience something they developed or liked. I never got into my son’s Pokemon or Magic cards, but I always loved it when he explained them to me!

    Liked by 1 person

  15. Oh so true… 🙂 Mark Twain knew what he was talking about and we do too (now)!

    Liked by 1 person

Comments are closed.