Can we still be friends if our parenting styles are polar opposites?
British expat Melanie Rae wonders if having a totally different parenting style means being friends is no longer an option
It’s a difficult one. Of course, we’re all going to have different ideas about the best way to bring up our children. We’re all going to believe we’re right, because – let’s face it – we wouldn’t be doing it that way if we didn’t. But is it really possible to live and let live, and carry on socialising together, if our approaches really are that different? How do we explain it to our children? Especially in close quarters, for example, when it’s close friends with whom I spend an awful lot of time over here. Or when we visit the UK and stay with Clare and her family for a week.
I don’t want my girls to see another child speak to an adult in a disrespectful way and think it’s acceptable. She probably doesn’t want to see me take toys away from my girls when they’ve just trashed their toyroom and refused to tidy it up. I’m worried she’s looking at me and thinking I could do with growing a small moustache and combing my hair over; she could well be thinking I’m looking at her and wondering why she’s such a pushover (although, to be honest, I think she’s so convinced she’s doing the right thing, she might not even care).
It’s a tough one. I value our friendship and I like that we’ve known each other so long – half the time we don’t even have to say anything to know what the other person is thinking. But I really don’t like that there’s the possibility I’m being judged as a parent, and I don’t like myself for judging someone else as a parent. I can’t see any other conclusion than us going our separate ways; me to my military academy to knock some proper manners into my offspring, Clare to her ivory tower to spend her life as a doormat to her entitled little darlings. I’d be really sad not to have her in my life, and I’d be even more sad that we’re clearly not as good friends as I once thought, but don’t my children come first?
Is too much of a good thing, too much of a good thing?
British freelance writer Elisabeth Maynard questions her sister’s enthusiastic approach to parenting and the domino effect it has on her own children
My sister is an amazing mother. During the day, there is never a dull moment as her kids get whirled from dressing up as pirates to making dens behind the sofa, baking fresh cookies and finishing off a 3-D Peppa Pig puzzle. All before lunchtime.
Watching her as she plays and chases them around the garden is the sort of Enid Blyton existence I wish I had the energy to give my kids, but most Friday mornings my lot are getting a trip to Spinneys as their weekend highlight.
Now while this might be seen as an excuse to appease my mummy guilt, there is a little voice inside that sees all the painting, reading, dancing and cooking as a way of delaying the inevitable… that eventually the games will end and she will need to realise she’s created offspring whose expectations of a regular Monday morning are so wildly unachievable, they will only be disappointed when the fun stops. And it has to stop at some point.
That point is normally about 5pm in my sister’s house, which is when the den is dismantled so the grown-ups can take back ownership of the sitting room.
My nephew then becomes a whining nightmare, and pretty soon my kids will also assume this incessant drone of demands, which makes a sleepover an ongoing challenge.
The droning will then escalate when it becomes clear there aren’t going to be any more puppet shows or Cath Kidston-style crafting sessions as it’s bath time. My nephew is inconsolable and there’s usually some screaming.
You would normally use the naughty step now, but that’s still got the Peppa Pig puzzle on it…
Bedtime would offer blissful relief, if he was going to bed. But considering he’s now so overtired from the scheduled activities and terrified that the Gruffalo they made out of papier mâché earlier in the day is now under his bed, the hysterics are well under way. Which means my kids won’t sleep either.
Any advice given is met with negative comments on my own parenting skills and a reach for the bottle by Mary Poppins, who is now so understandably exhausted that she has turned into Cruella De Vil.
Of course we want our children’s lives to be magical and full of adventures, but we can’t do it at the expense of our own sanity (and bank account).
My sister shouldn’t feel like she needs to prove she’s an amazing mother by making homemade biscuits. And while I understand why she does it, I just hope the kids don’t end up thinking that this is reality. Because most of the time, reality is a packet of chocolate Hobnobs…
An expert view
Psychologist at Lifeworks Dubai Mona Moussa says…
The topic of parenting styles is a hot issue because the choices we make as a parent lie at the core of our own values, character, goals, attitudes, and upbringing. There are several things you can do to manage potential challenges:
• Try to remain mutually respectful of each other’s parenting choices, rather than trying to change the other, and manage your expectations so as not to build up resentment.
• Pick your battles by identifying your priorities. Are these differences touching on a value that’s crucial to you, or just a secondary one?
• Decrease potential tension between parents by encouraging outdoor play for the kids when possible, as this can help children and parents feel calmer.
• Similarly, channel children’s energy by offering them arts and crafts, building blocks, puzzles, or reading them a story to decrease the likelihood of misbehaviour.
• Whenever there is a challenge, invite the children to draft a solution with you as an attempt to empower them and decrease adult interference.
• In the case of differences in parenting styles between family members or friends who live together or in close proximity, plan some alone time for you and the kids, or some time alone just by yourself, so that you can replenish your energy and come back fresh.
• In a case where the differences are creating tension between long-term friends, plan some outings together without the children to reconnect with each other.