It was vacation time for the kids, and the house was a total mess, with toys and books strewn everywhere. The noise was at a different level, with children always watching television, listening to music, or buzzing like bees near my ears. Me time was a luxury I desperately craved and dreamed of. Today was my lucky day. I managed to finally steal a few minutes with my Kindle and dived into the world of mystery, romance and words. That blissful moment, however, was short-lived. My younger child interrupted me, proudly showing off her new cupcake creation with her favourite toy, the Magnetiles. As she hugged me, she accidentally pressed her hand on my pinky finger, and I winced with pain. Yesterday while peeling an apple and mediating a quarrel between the two siblings, I had inadvertently snapped a bit of my nail, and the pain was torturous. I explained to my three-year-old that my nail was hurting because it was broken, and her answer left me shocked and speechless.
I mumbled a response to her and watched her happily return to her play, still dazed. Guilt threatened to overwhelm me, and I questioned my parenting; what was I teaching my three-year-old that she had formed such a response to the situation? She looked at my nail and said, “Amma, let us buy a new one.” I know most of you find it funny. Yes, I would have laughed it aside any other day. But today, my mind couldn’t help but wonder what attitudes I am instilling in my child. Where did she get this notion that buying a new one is the solution?
Mind being mind, a beguiler, took me back to my childhood. It replayed so many memories and made me relive so many experiences. A new book, a new pen, a new pencil, a new dress, a new clip, a new ink bottle, a new nib, I could go on and on. Anything new was special and reserved for the most special or desperate occasions. There was no way I could make a passing reference with that word like the one my child made and get away without a lesson on sustainability and care. My mind, a traitor, was taunting me, questioning the value system I was fostering in my children. I was lost and did not understand. Did I go wrong? Was I doing something wrong? What should I change? What should I correct? What is the way forward?
When confused, I simply let the questions be; with time, realizations come, and I find my answers. One such realization hit me a few days later when my maid took out an old Nokia mobile with a small screen without touch to answer a call. It felt like a veil had lifted, and I saw my mind for the trickster it was! How can we compare an apple with a dragon fruit, a landline to a mobile phone, and a telegram to an email? The world around me has changed, technology and people have changed, and I have changed and evolved. While I seem happy and accepting of all these changes, why am I still feeling guilty benchmarking my parenting to how I was parented?
Understanding this simple fact was so liberating. My mind shifted from guilt and self-judgement to the problem at hand. We live in a fast-paced world that is changing every second. I was parented by a generation that would hardly ever replace anything; from the smallest toy to the biggest appliance, it was always repair, rework and reuse. There was no OS incompatibility, obsolete technology or social media influencers giving recommendations every other month. Books, clothes or toys were always handed down and exchanged and buying something new was a rarity reserved for festivals and special occasions. But today we are a generation that always believes in buying new, be it a toy, a book, a pen, a phone, a gadget or anything. We generally choose to buy new, simply for convenience or for the latest technology that it offers. Given this, what should be the way forward?
Looking around my house, I realized many things are new, but several items have been repaired, reworked and reused. We still mend torn clothes and bags, fix buttons if they fall and call a mechanic or electrician. I understood that the best place to start was to consciously bring my child’s attention to things that are repaired and reused. Explicitly show her every time I mend a torn book, change a refill in the pen and fix a broken toy. All this is education, the one that opens their mind and shapes their attitude. Constant and mindful observation and communication on my part was the key. With a gentle smile playing on my lips, I went to find my younger one to talk to her about the mechanic, who was coming to fix the Air conditioner.
Ah, an entire write-up on a three-year-old’s response seems a tad excessive. Maybe, don’t we as parents judge ourselves more harshly than necessary?
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