Parenting
In the beginning, he picked up the essentials: the art of smiling, followed closely by laughter. He mastered sleeping, sitting, and wielding a spoon. He discovered his toes, learned to shove his fist into his mouth, and found solace in clutching a blanket. He crawled, walked, and then ran and jumped, stretching tall like a tree and crouching low like a lion. He figured out how to create music with a ladle and pot, build towers only to topple them, roll a ball, and then throw it.
How naive I was to think this journey had a finish line. The learning never ceases; it unfolds every day, eternally.
He has become acquainted with buttons and Velcro, the importance of brushing teeth and flushing toilets, and the correct method for pulling on socks and brushing hair. He’s learned how to close a door without pinching his fingers.
He has experienced kisses and tears, yawns and burps, learned how to blow his nose, and felt the sting of a bruise or a scraped knee. He’s already discovered the healing power of time.
He can write his name, sketch houses with curling smoke escaping from chimneys, play games like dominoes and Monopoly, and even snap his fingers. He has learned to spell simple words like “mum,” “fun,” “sun,” and “van,” ensuring he leaves a finger space in between.
He understands that fishing is an exercise in patience, that washing the car is an ongoing chore, and that cookies taste best when baked at home. He has learned the hard way that sunburn is more painful than applying sunscreen, that face paints are a blast, and that dogs can be gentle companions while birds are delightful to watch. He knows that squirrels are unlikely to swipe his toys.
He has discovered that few things in life can rival the joy of stickers, that every bath can accommodate two, and that any party worth attending will have sausage rolls and jelly. He has learned which herbs to snip from the garden, the proper placement of fork and knife, and that sometimes it’s okay not to worry about everything.
He has learned that Googling pictures of poo is a regrettable choice, that good manners paired with a warm smile are always appreciated, that it’s perfectly fine to say no, and that distance doesn’t diminish love. He has found that dinosaurs are fascinating rather than frightening and that picking lemons from his own tree is endlessly enjoyable.
He has discovered the joy of dancing, the wonders of ladybirds and dragonflies, the delicate patterns of spider webs and snowflakes, and the tastes of harmonicas and tangerines. He knows that on tough days, fresh air is essential, that no sea is too cold for splashing, and no rainy day is too gloomy for ice cream. He understands that a closed door offers privacy and that a notebook beside the bed is never too much.
He can locate Tasmania on a map, knows that haircuts go smoother if you stay still, and believes that tomato soup is the best remedy for a cold. He has learned that sometimes the best gifts come from the beach, that postcards are for more than just vacations, and that you can never have too many books.
He’s learned that peas grow in pods while babies develop in bellies, about the magic of fireflies, the fury of thunderstorms, and the lore of Santa, heaven, rainbows, and hiccups. He understands that feeling sad or angry is normal but that friends can help chase those feelings away.
He has learned that the best days always begin and end with a hug in bed, that making others laugh is fulfilling, that fizzy drinks are overrated, and that writing poems takes real effort. He has also found, to his dismay, that most people don’t marry their kindergarten teachers.
He has learned that wood floats while stones sink, that delivering a good joke is trickier than it appears, and that coloring within the lines is just one approach to creativity. He understands that some challenges—like losing a tooth, sleepless nights, or long car rides—must be faced alone.
In just six years, he has absorbed an impressive amount of knowledge.
He is still mastering zippers and scissors, swimming and skipping, learning how to use erasers, tie shoelaces, and enjoy kiwi fruit. He’s working on understanding hard cheese and celery while also figuring out where capital letters belong. He is learning to share attention and affection with others, ride a bike without training wheels, and navigate the ethics of standing on ants.
Sometimes, when exhaustion sets in, he might miss his mouth with a spoonful of yogurt or toss his reading book in frustration. He might stomp up the stairs, muttering under his breath.
He is a continual work in progress, with much still to learn. But so am I. So are you. So are we all.
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Summary
In just six years, a child learns invaluable life skills, from the basic to the complex, paving the way for endless growth and discovery. The journey of learning is ongoing, not just for children but for everyone involved in their lives.
Keyphrase: insights gained in parenting
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