Half Life - 26 - acorns
April 23rd, 2021
Older Son’s habit, a few years ago, of planting seeds and conkers in the garden, with a view to seeing if they’d grow, unexpectedly resulted in two healthy apple saplings and a rapidly growing horse-chestnut tree. Failing to think it through, not expecting such green fingers or any of them to survive, the three are clustered on one side of the garden and, should they continue at the current pace, will end up lovingly intertwined due to being far too close to each other. A daily reminder, and a piece of evidence mentioned more than once by both children, of the unreliability of some parental decisions. Chats over dinner have started to pick up on some of the decisions we, as parents, made for them over the years. Each one is something they have become interested in, they know it’s part of their lives forever and we took the decisions for them with no way of knowing if they will work out the way we wished or desired.
Names were the first. As we put the small child down on the floor in the kitchen, still in his car-seat, home for the first time from the hospital, we had no idea if we had it right. His eyes peacefully shut, rocked to sleep by the driving, we simply looked at him. He had his names by then, and our first big decision on his behalf would shape his life in ways we would only learn years later as he navigated a school with others with the same name. When the second one turned up it was harder to choose, as we knew a little more about the consequences the simple act of giving names would have.
Introducing them to the wonderful world of words followed as we chatted merrily away, never bothering with baby-talk we spoke to them the same way we talked to each other. Accidental seeds were sown. In particular, we discovered swear words are picked up just as quickly as any other word and the source easily identified. The Wife, who rarely swears, tends to favour a dramatic ‘bollocks’ when pushed to it. Their fully fledged potty-mouthed father, however, favours ‘bugger’, ‘bastard’ and the occasional ‘bitch’ when the subject in hand warrants it. As well as thinking all swear words started with ‘b’, it took only one hearing to embed these words deep into the infant minds. It was with satisfaction that it was The Wife’s ‘bollocks’ that made the first and most dramatic swearing appearance, jumping from the mouth of Older Boy years before primary school would start to expose him to other words we worked hard to prevent ourselves using around him and his brother. We’d learned un-planting certain seeds is impossible.
Of all the ideas deliberately implanted, the requirement for The Boys to disagree with their parents when they don’t see eye to eye was the riskiest. To date, they have risen to the challenge by providing annoyingly well-articulated reasons to not go to school, be bought phones, be allowed to use their phones, later bedtimes, not to eat spinach or potatoes, the rights of children not to be shouted at, for and against the death penalty and abortion, and the essential need for a dog. Since we now have a dog, they have and get to use phones, and we try not shout too much, their success rate is pretty good. Bedtimes and spinach remain on-going areas of disagreement and negotiation.
Moving to a village in the country, away from the edges of London where both Boys were born, changed the direction of their lives far more than imagined. In addition to depriving them of life essentials such as Deliveroo and Just Eat it drove school choices and that, in turn, determined who their first friends were. The local primary school, a few hundred yards away, turned out to be a great place in addition to being convenient. Luck fell our way twice; the local secondary is so good we chose it over other options. So far, so good and, quietly, both parents have yet to regret the village move which changed every part of all of our lives and forever defined where they think of as home.
Disappointingly, we came second in the bossiest parent league, losing out to the parents of one of Older Boy’s great friends. On investigation I think an appeal might be worth it as our intolerance of food fads or dinnertime complaints may not have been fully appreciated. The food tyranny even extends to their friends when they join us for dinner. Previous victories include one friend eating salmon for the first time and another having his first iceberg lettuce experience. Admittedly, we called the salmon pink chicken and the lettuce flat cucumber, but it worked, and any short-term confusion will, surely, be compensated by the nutritional uplift. The ethics of planting mental seeds in children other than your own might have to be a topic for a future meal-time debate.
Admiral Collingwood, Nelson’s second in command, carried acorns with him whenever he walked the hills of Northumberland where he lived, planting them as he went to ensure there were oaks for the future Navy. Every parent wants to know if the acorns we plant in those early years will grow into magnificent trees or turn out to be bindweed, forever holding them back. Knowing my chances of ever finding out is close to non-existent, it has made them more important and more frightening. Correcting them, like swear words, is impossible so I hope they were, and are, the right ones, and will be strong enough to support The Boys when they need them.
Very thought provoking - keep strong!
All your writing is beautiful and thought-provoking, Charles. For some posts, ‘like ‘ does not seem an appropriate response. I’m sure your boys are a credit to you. Take care