germination

THe combination of my urban professional self (financial complexities, lots of paperwork) and my private commitment to reduced domestic footprint (labour intensive, low on escapism like entertainment, TV and retail therapy) make for perhaps the worst of both worlds. I'm far from unique in this, and suspect many working parents (in particular) find themselves in similar binds - working a 10 -12 hour day at the office + commute + coming home and wanting to feed their kids organic homemade food and not plonk them in front of the TV while preparing it.

It's self-imposed and I know many many people do it far tougher, and with less choice. But cracks are showing. I got a bollocking from a friend with triplets the other day for not being \a good friend lately (not calling, inviting etc) and it was absolutely deserved, but I can't fix it. THe reality of my three days at home (three including Saturday and Sunday that is) is all the washing, the shopping, the gardening, the cleaning, the client meetings (J's) the cooking proper meals so we can freeze some for later, the spontaneous crises (my family) the washing up by hand, the household admin (enrol in closer kindys, take E to the doctor, register car) and the pre-planned social commitments, (everyone's, including, increasingly, the kids').

Every time I think it's the last straw and I'm going to lie down and cry, another thing somewhere goes wrong. I thought it couldn't get worse when the power went out and then, R came out in mouth ulcers and spots. We rode bikes up to the pharmacy to get him checked out, and somehow I lost my (work-owned) mobile phone.

So my experiences of hanging at home (especially on my own with the kids) aren't all that relaxing, and I wasn't looking forward to this ten day period when the extended family is away and I took leave to do just that. Tuesday was a novelty. Wednesday was exhausting (as usual ) but today we had a breakthrough that has reinvigorated my sense of my role as a parent.

During dinner after E joked that the food was "disgusterous" (they're having a BFG phase) I told him we don't talk like that about food, and it prompted the hackneyed (but engaging) conversation about children starving in Africa. For the first time, E made the connection that a child we sponsor lived in Africa, and understood that there isn't enough food to go around. He spontaneously decided that he had lots of t-shirts that were too big for him, just right for H and we should send them there. Later, reading "Flat Stanley in Space" aloud to them the same theme came up, with the tiny Tyrrans having run out of food because of an industrial accident, and the Lambchop family discussing the fact that there was enough food for millions of people on earth. R chimed in saying that wasn't true, because H (our sponsored child) lived somewhere there wasn't enough food. They're intelligent kids, but it really awed me to be able to discuss some of these very adult concerns (and things that preoccupy me) with them. And they actually got it, and integrated it, and made sense of what it meant for how they should behave.

I have always known (perhaps because my fmaily was from India) that the root environmental problem is overpopulation. Accidentally conceived twins meant I never fully engaged with the idea that having children is a moral issue until the question (conveniently) became academic (and I became unqualified to take a position). But my post-hoc justification is a hope that raising my children right will mean they contribute to solutions rather than problems. Reducing their footprint as well as my own is a critical start, but not enough. While I think of my kids mostly as a random gift (and know the limitations of parental influence) I hope to lay foundations for the people we'll need tomorrow. So what does this mean in practice? What do I do with my overburdened three-year-olds?

We have rules:
- We don't waste food (a colleague recently pointed out it was just as wasted in your tummy - I can't bring myself to see it that way) and we eat all the skins and crusts and everything and the rest goes to the worms.
- We don't waste stuff - we take care of things so that they'll last longer and / or be able to be passed on to another family.
- We don't buy things just because we want them. To brag a little here, our kids are so good at this one, that we took can take them on a surprise shopping trip to get bikes at Toys R Us and they never, ever even ask for anything during the entire 45 minute visit to the store. At checkout, R's lip trembled a bit as he handed over his green dragon money box to the cashier, but he did it.
Note to parents - don't buy Toys R Us bikes. In our case they weigh more than the kids do. Which makes it hard to ride. Go to a bike shop instead. (Ironic, I know, to give purchase advice in the context of a not-buying rule, but we avoided a car trip because we had bikes today, which is the point)

We have habits of thinking and talking:
- We remind ourselves how lucky we are and recognise that brings a bigger responsibility to others (like giving away extra toys and clothes.)
- We try to yield to the underdog. Smaller kids, sicker brother, someone who hasn't got a bike at home and wants to play on yours at the park.
- We recognise the self-interest in doing "good things" as I think it prompts bigger-picture thinking (though it can be a bit Machiavellian). If you always share your toys, other people will be more likely to share with you. If you get dressed as soon as I ask you to, we might find we have enough time for an extra story at the end of the day.

And we have priorities in terms of what matters to their development:
- Lots of space, room for physical play and exploring.
- Taking responsibility early (though I do feel bad about the moneybox-for-bike-thing, above)
- Exposure to people with similar values (because I know the power of the peer group even at age 3)

All of this of course is in the context of cuddles and tickles and fairy dancing and silly singing and play dough pounding and all kinds of babyhood things. Sometimes though, I really do think I'm way too hard on them. I can fully envisage the adult therapy they'll undergo for utter deprivation by the standards of our time, place and means. But I hope that I'm
giving them a sounder, more authentic, more useful foundation than more Fisher Price and Wiggles ever could.

And let's put this in context. Between them, they have forty-four t-shirts (albeit some, as E pointed out, that are a little too big).