Most of us in our 20s have this urge to rebel against
the system, to challenge the societal norms and to change the world. Somewhere
down the road we realize that getting a college admission is difficult enough;
changing jobs is difficult enough; finding love is difficult enough; and
staying in love is even more so. The rebellious 20s and its steady demise is a
well-documented phenomenon. What is not that well-documented is its resurgence
after parenthood.
Parenting has been in existence since the birth of
mankind. Still every generation believes that it can better this art; that it
can learn from the mistakes that it sees around it (as well as the ones it must
have endured) and ensure that the same are not repeated. We all want to be
better parents – and we all believe that the only way to be better, is to be
different. So, after the euphoria of childbirth wanes, we arm ourselves with a
mental checklist of what we ought to do… and more importantly, what we ought
not to do. So, suddenly, swaddling becomes old school, diapers become chic,
mother-toddler classes become as important as college, and every (and I mean,
e.v.e.r.y.) vaccination mentioned in the pediatrician's file becomes
inevitable and crucial. We all cringe a little when we see our parents
parenting our children – forgetting that they did a pretty good job (well, most
of the time) with us in the first place.
In our quest to not repeat certain mistakes, we make
some new ones. We reinvent certain wheels and rediscover certain fires (always
the hard way, mind you). And through it all, we unduly stress ourselves by setting
non-SMART goals for ourselves as parents – goals that are neither Specific, nor
Measurable, Achievable, Result-oriented, or Time-bound. We will try and
breast-feed for as long as humanly possible. We will vie (and save) to send our
children to that snobbish uptown school that we loathed as a child. And on a
personal note, we will try and keep the child away from screens for as long as
possible.
The last one kind of fell through for us a few weeks
back. One fine day, our Precious decided that she’s not going to have any food
without entertainment. I remember of a time, not too long ago, when singing a
song or reading a book with a funny accent did the trick; but the queen decided
that she’ll not be so easily entertained. We tried and tried while the Cerelac
went cold… and then, finally, out of sheer frustration, we did something that
we never thought that we’d fall for – ChuChu TV. And while Precious now
passively finishes her bowl, our conscience constantly gnaws at our innards.
Now I don’t know about my better half, but I have made peace with this fact
that screens are going to be an integral part of Precious’ life – one can only
delay the inevitable, not prevent it altogether. Onto the next item on the list
then. After all, the world needs changing.
