If there’s one thing guaranteed to make a parent feel stressed, it’s when their offspring accidentally hits another child on the head. This is exactly what happened at the swimming pool the other day when Izzy, my youngest daughter lost control of a ride-on toy boat she was using and, bump, collided with a small boy in the pool. As the responsible adult overseeing my child’s behaviour, I felt the need to apologise and give the boat to someone else, all the while my stress levels were going through the roof.
Every now and again, my children come home from school and mention something about their day that knocks me sideways. One such occasion happened earlier this week when Helen, my nine-year-old, came home talking about Katy Perry.
It was a dark night and we were driving home. It’s at such moments that I find my children can be at their most chatty and Helen was in a talkative mood, testing me, to see if I was a cool parent or not.
I can’t pretend otherwise, it took me a long time to come around to the idea of both International Women’s Day and International Men’s Day. I found them to be slightly vague concepts and at times the debates they have created have been off-putting.
I had no interest in gymnastics until two years ago. Sure, I took my kids to a gymnastics club, but parents were not allowed to watch the sessions, so I had no idea what my kids were up to. It looked nice, but it was simply another sport I was vaguely aware of.