Parenting is like learning to juggle; it's not about being a circus pro but about not dropping all the balls.
I remember attending a relative's child's birthday party. One of the entertainers was a clown performing juggling tricks. The clown was incredibly skilled, managing five balls without dropping any. Cheers erupted, and I was amazed.
Amazed? Yes. I suddenly thought about the extraordinary balance the clown possessed. The rhythm of the falling balls seemed predictable, and yet, he managed it all with a smile. Behind that balance lies hard work, practice, and countless simulations with hundreds of dropped balls.
If those balls represent various aspects of life, can we be quick, precise, agile, and, in short, balanced? And of course, with a smile? I believe, like the clown, we can achieve balance through consistent practice.
Since becoming a parent, everything feels new to me. Some fellow parents I know agree. Whether it's the first, second, or third child, it's always like experiencing something new.
Our son, aged four, is growing with a high curiosity. His age invites endless questions that furrow brows. Not long ago, he asked, "Why do we have to die? Can we avoid it?" After delving into it, it turned out he didn't want to be buried. It took more than three days to explain the concept of death to a young child who was already unsatisfied with the answer, "When we die, we go to Heaven and meet God." Similar questions will surely arise tomorrow.
Returning to the juggler's act in life, I want to view it from a parental perspective. There are many new things since the birth of our child. Watching the little human grow and develop is truly an experience full of gratitude and questions like, "Can I do this?" and hopes like, "I hope I can."
Not far from the clown, practicing and learning are key. Just like the clown learns the rhythm of each ball, we also learn from every development. Like the clown who may set records for not dropping balls, we slowly begin to learn: Oh, he likes to sleep while swaying, the next day he'll sleep if rocked, the next day he'll sleep if his bottom is tapped... tap.. tap.. tap. For one sleep issue, there are various solutions, and we're starting to get used to it. We've caught one ball successfully.
Besides sleep, mealtime poses a challenge, especially when our child comes with the "mouth shut movement" agenda. It seems like no enticing menu can penetrate the defense of a closed mouth. Once closed, it stays closed. Ignoring the desperate mother. But it doesn't last long because as a mother, we're always 1000 steps ahead. From all kinds of coaxing to (a little?) threatening, we manage to get the child to eat again. Now, handling two balls at once is possible.
In this era, screen time is also a topic of debate. If his mother's phone is forbidden, he'll ask for his father's phone... or start asking to watch TV. Recently, I've been able to implement how to say no without actually saying no. I started with an agreement: when it's time to sleep and the child still wants to watch, there will be two five-minute sessions. For me, this is more effective than the escalating countdown therapy. One... Two... Two and a half... Using the alarm method for a full five minutes without cheating proved effective for me. Don't forget, twice. Like this, handling three balls doesn't seem difficult.
The most unsettling thing is when a child is sick. Every mother might have thought, "Let me be the one who's sick, dear... just not you." When a child is sick, the mother feels even sicker because often we, mothers, are faced with worries similar to guilt. Sometimes, for the first fever or the umpteenth fever, it's resolved with paracetamol and vitamins. However, the worry in the first fever or the umpteenth fever cannot be measured; I cannot describe it in words. This is a challenging ball, caught with care. The fourth ball, hopefully, can be managed.
If those balls are the same, the same size, the same weight, everything is predictable. Being a parent is confronted with the unexpected every day. Something we nurture is something alive. Growing and developing. Like a juggler who learns through practice and perhaps drops a few balls along the way, we, as parents, learn and grow through experience, accepting that mistakes will happen but striving to keep everything running as smoothly as possible. These four balls are just a fraction of the other balls that will arrive in due time.
It's not about being a perfect parent, capable of handling everything. It's about us learning and growing, also from our mistakes, to become better, to be balanced, and to handle it with a smile and gratitude.
Happy learning from your experiences.
We can do it.
Romana, from Arahope.