I find myself talking sometimes and halfway through a conversation, I think, ‘OMG, I feel and sound like an old person’ I say the sort of things my parents used to say to me, way back in the mists of time. I have caught myself looking at a young girl in a short skirt and thinking ‘I hope my grand daughters don’t dress like that!’ I most certainly can freely admit that I definitely wore some short skirts in my day when I was in my teens. I hope I don’t catch myself telling the girls they shouldn’t be wearing short skirts, low necked tops, makeup – basically everything a teenager or young woman may want to do. Their body, their right to be and do what they want with it, to a certain degree. That’s the parent’s call after all…
Then there’s the words that come out of my mouth. I am sometimes the ‘Fuddy’ to my husband’s ‘Duddy’. Yep, we can be a right pair of old Fuddy Duddy’s! Him, more than me of course! In a cafe with my husband recently and I got out my waterbottle. Now, it was a bottle from a well-known company and at some stage I guess either myself or my husband must have purchased an actual bottle of water. Cue a couple of old fuddies talking about ‘in my day…’ we couldn’t have imagined such a thing and how if such a thing as bottled water existed, that most people would be OK with paying for a bottle of a resource we can get straight from the tap! But, we have been guilty ourselves of buying bottled H20.
Each generation has words and sayings that were popular in the day. Words that we used as teenagers, today’s teenagers would probably have no clue as to what we were saying. Then add in to the mix my English Father and a bit of ‘cockney rhyming slang’ for good measure and the combination can prove too much for the grandies.
Now, this is what I was building up to. I had a word used in an email not so long ago that I had never heard of before. The word? Parentalising or parentification!
What are the signs that someone may have experienced parentification? One thing I found was a sign that they had experienced parentification was that ‘They often received compliments for being “so good” and “so responsible.” Also, I read that being expected to do things that should be in the realm of adults to do, such as housework was making victims of children in expecting them to do so.
Now, I get that there are extremes at any end of a spectrum in which adults interact with children, but I think back to when I was studying to be a Social Worker, who was bringing up three children, my children did more housework than I did. Doing the washing and folding towels and cooking meals. I just didn’t have the time. Was I causing them harm? Was I guilty of providing an environment where my children suffered parentification? I hope not. In fact, one of my golden parenting moments was when one of my sons went to Uni and was living in a student flat with other boys. He said, he could never find a clean plate or cutlery, had to always fish out another boy’s smelly washing out of the machine before he could do his own laundry and struggled to find a clean pot to cook his food in. He than said, ‘Y’know mum, I hated having to cook meals, fold washing and do other chores, but I think these boys had Mums that ran after them, I am so grateful now that I can look after myself because of what I had to do growing up!’ Golden Mama moment that!
The term was used to me because I produced a book that was for children whose father had had a stroke. I had suggested in the pages of that book that the child might be able to help their father learn to do his shoes up, help him to choose his clothes for the day and various other things they could do to feel part of their parent’s recovery. That – I was told – was parentalising! For me, that was a suggestion in the book of ways the child could feel like they had a place in their parent’s recovery. No way were they being asked or had I suggested that the child was to dress their parent every day. Far from it.
So, different times. Different points of view from different people at different ages and stages – the person making the comment being 20-30 years younger than me. I think often the thing to remember is the word ‘intent’. It was never my intent that the child becomes the one to take on their father’s care. However, it was my intent to show a child that one way that they could help their father was to walk alongside of him and maybe help him with a few things. Surely, asking if Daddy wants a red or a blue shirt is not that bad?
Different strokes for different folks.
Intent is an important word to remember.
My intent was to raise children who knew that to make a family we all need to contribute. That was raising children who knew about responsibility and teamwork. Who contribute so that we all benefit and it is not all on one person’s shoulders. Just because I was the only adult didn’t mean I could – or should – have to try to do it all.
What’s your thoughts?
My journey with Parkinsons 