Going slow

A new catchphrase has hit the world of parenting....it's called Slow Parenting, an offshoot of the Slow Food movement, where everything to do with our fast-paced, super-hectic, I've-got-no-time-for-anything-anymore lifestyles is given the shove in favour of life in the slower lane...with time to smell the roses...

Funnily enough, the new Slow Parenting movement has been blamed on the world-wide recession...parents suddenly have tighter budgets, so the costly after-school and weekend activities have been given the chop; food prices are going up, so the backyard vegie garden is back in vogue. The downturn in the economic climate has seemingly forced some parents to stop outsourcing their children's entertainment and activities and *shock horror* actually spend time with their kids themselves!

Sometimes I think that my own life couldn't actually get any slower, but just recently, I have realised that if not slow down, I could at least simplify and free up some of my time. Basically I suppose I'm talking about rejigging my priorities.

I think it started when we were away on holidays just recently...spending time with family and friends and a lot more time with my hubby, invariably meant that I was tied to my laptop a lot less often. The forum that I used to visit a hundred times a day has hardly had a visit; neither have the myriad other websites that used to make up my daily trawl. I was also given a new book on bread making that suddenly reignited my passion for baking and so I leapt into the world of sourdough...and you REALLY can't get much slower than baking with sourdough!

Anyway, one warm and sunny afternoon, I found myself sitting down with thoughts streaming out of my head and onto paper...madly scribbling down all the things that I needed to do to bring me to a better place as a wife, as a mother, and, as, well, just me. Some of the things are about getting back to basics - like my newfound sourdough obssession...there is something deeply and immensely satisfying about handcrafting your own loaf from just three ingredients - flour, water and salt. Some things are about trying to save money by doing things for myself - like taking on my own vegetable and herb garden...the only problem with that one is that I hate getting my hands dirty...yep, that's right...an instant FAIL for Parenting 101!

Some things are about saving time, or rather, making time - like cutting down my TV and internet time so that I can spend more time on other things like reading and devising simple art and craft activities to do with my 18 month old daughter. Some things are about taking time to nurture my spirit. For me, this means setting aside some time each day for prayer and meditation - something I have often struggled to be consistent with. And some things are just about making life beautiful - planting a flower garden as well as having a vase of flowers inside the house too.

Some friends of mine, even before they had children, introduced us to the idea of 'Magic Moments'. Every day, before dinner, as they sat around the table, they each reflected about one magical moment that they had experienced that day, something that made them stop and smile and savour the beauty that is life itself in all its simple, everyday ordinary-ness. It didn't have to be something mind-blowingly amazing, in fact, more often it was simply something small and beautiful that they would otherwise have forgotten in a busy, hectic day. Perhaps a beautiful sunrise, a smile from a stranger, the laughter of children playing or the aroma of a freshly baked loaf of bread. Actually up until now, I'd forgotten how nice it was to celebrate the magic moments of daily life in this way...perhaps it's something else to go on my slow schedule.

My hope is that the new wave of slowness that is seemingly washing over the world of parenting, may eventually trickle down right to the baby days as well. I think that the tendency to fast-track kids through childhood affects babies the most - they are forced to wean prematurely from the breast (the WHO recommends that babies are breastfed for at least two years); they are forced to prematurely soothe themselves to sleep and they are forced into premature separation from their parents. How much more satisfying and nourishing would childhood be if it was left to occur unhurried, undisturbed...

So if the recession is forcing people to slow down, to simplify, to spend more time with their kids, then bring it on I say! For my part, as I sit here, in front of a computer screen, although life here is already slow, I realise that it can also be more nourishing and more fulfilling and that the choice is mine to make. My sourdough is gently warming near the dwindling fire, ready to bake a fresh loaf of bread tomorrow; the lime tart that I baked earlier today is cooling on the kitchen bench and the playful afternoon that I spent with my daughter at the park has helped to ease her into a sound and peaceful slumber. Sounds pretty good to me already...

To spend is to live

OK, I have to admit it, I must be a bit of a freak. I hate spending money unnecessarily on my daughter. I don’t believe that the only way she can have fun, enjoy herself and be occupied is dependent on me spending money towards this end. Part of this boils down to the fact that we don’t have an enormously high disposable income but it is also, I feel, a bit of a rail against the highly consumerist, materialistic, disposable society that I am now bringing my daughter up in. It is also a great deal to do with how we were brought up as children…there’s no easy way to say this – my dad was, and still is, a miser. He refused to spend money on either himself or his family unless it was absolutely necessary – and his definition of ‘necessary’ sometimes bordered on the absurd! I still have visions of him wandering around in threadbare pyjamas that seemed held together by a miraculous web of cotton threads. To be fair to my father, though, he did have a plan. The plan was to save up as much money as he could so that he could give all of his children a debt-free start to life. But, I digress…

Influenced both by my father’s strict fiscal policies, my own Bahá’í ideals of striving to live a less materialistic lifestyle and our own lack of ready money, has led me to rail against the almost invisible pressures that seem to command us that to spend is to live. The point was driven home rather painfully a few days ago when we were with Boo’s grandparents at a busy marketplace in the city. We had all stopped to have a bite to eat. Nearby, there was one of those mechanical rides for kids that you pay for. It was a simple chair-lift that went round and round a picture of the globe with flashing lights. Now both Boo and her cousin were more than happy to sit in the motionless seat and just pretend – you know, that thing children of yesteryear seemed enormously capable of doing without resort to their parents’ wallet… I was happy that they were finding a way to entertain themselves and each other safely and happily without much call for parental intervention. They weren’t complaining, they weren’t demanding, they weren’t grumbling. They were just happy playing. But it seems that was not enough…soon enough, along came a grandparent with a gleaming coin, ready to insert into the slot. I rather surreptitiously whisked Boo away and her cousin got the ride, which lasted all of about sixty seconds. He grinned away as the chair lurched in fits and starts around the globe, but soon the entertainment was over and he moved on to the next source of occupation – food.

And here it happened again. Boo had just eaten breakfast and wasn’t particularly hungry – of course she loves picking things from what everyone else is eating, but she didn’t require anything specifically for her, and I certainly wasn’t about to buy anything. But, no, the ever-perceptive grandparents, decided that seeing as everyone else was eating something (apart from me), she must require something too. So off they went and bought her a blueberry muffin. Of course, I felt that it was my duty to ensure that she ate some as it was bought specifically for her (regardless of the fact that it wasn’t something I would have bought for her in the first place...but that’s another story!). She picked at a few blueberries but she would have been just as happy without it.

A short while later, she wandered over to the ride again, whilst everyone was finishing their meals. As she was happily climbing on the ride, the golden coin was slipped into the machine and she was given her due turn. A well-intentioned grandparent explained that her cousin had been given a go so it was only fair that she had a turn as well. The eyes turned on me as I protested that they could ‘save their money until she actually knows that she’s missing out on something’. Not to be discouraged, the proud grandparents strapped her in for her sixty seconds of jerky entertainment. She was mildly entertained; they, it seems had the majority of the fun. Later I said that it was unnecessary and that she would have been equally as happy without the ride. At this, my mother-in-law looked at me and said “Well, do you object when her father throws her up in the air?”. A bit baffled by the logic behind this argument, I merely replied “Of course not, because he can do that for free”. She shook her head at me and said “One day when you’re a grandparent, you’ll understand”.

Actually I think I’ll probably feel the same way as I do now, though I suppose only time will tell. I just want to avoid creating a situation where my daughter feels that she always has to have a ride whenever we walk past one; that if someone else is having a go then she has to have a go too; that I have to pay money for her to be entertained; and that her grandparents are good for getting things out of. That’s not what I want for her, for myself or for them. I know it’s a big leap from one isolated incident to the scenario above, but I am ever conscious of the dreaded slippery-slope downwards. I’d rather not succumb right from the start. It makes everything easier in the long run.

I suppose I’m really also railing against the commodification of childhood. I want to teach my daughter that she CAN’T have everything that she wants; that there is a clear and discernible difference between needs and wants; and that it is not morally right for people in one part of the world to live in abject poverty with their most basic of needs being unmet while at the same time it being possible for us to have anything and everything that we want, when we want it. I’m not suggesting that we all live on rice and water in empathy for those who are in desperate circumstances, but I am advocating that it is up to the adults of today to show the younger generation that regardless of our wealth and material circumstances, we all need to be a lot more conscious and economical about the way we live and about how we spend our time and our money. Yes, we should use the money we have rightfully earned to make our lives comfortable and enjoyable, but surely there must be a limit to our wants and desires? We need to rise up to the nobility of our station rather than sink into the ever more gloomy depths of hedonistic desire.

We need far less than we think we need and we want far more than we need to want.