My husband? Or my work colleague?

My husband?  Or my work colleague?
9 January 2013

On the great journey through parenthood, I occasionally find that my Grantie turns into more of a work colleague than a husband.

We are both in this together and work for the same boss – our kids or should I rather say, by default our immediate bosses (or superiors in their opinion at least).  All whilst trying to maintain keeping our eye on the ball and the bigger picture (our immediate bosses’ big  boss) – which is raising them well and turning out happy, well adjusted, pleasant, polite, self-confident and independent individuals into the world.  Not the easiest of tasks for sure.  And sadly we’ll only know if we’ve achieved the desired results years and years from now, when it is too late to do anything about it.  Or change our parenting style.

We join forces and plod on regardless.  Conversations often revolve around our children.  What to do and when to do it.  If we’ve made a right decision.  If we’ve made a wrong decision and how to fix it.  We consult each other and make joint decisions.  On certain areas Grant defers to me, and on others, I defer to him again.  We each have our strengths and weakness.  I err on the side of being too soft.  My Grantie, not so much.  And though I like to believe that I am strict, he is definitely more of a disciplinarian.  And I play good cop to his bad cop.  Hey, it’s nice being the “nice” parent.  Horrible for him, I know.

When the kids were little, we were a two man team when it came to dispensing medicine.  One holding a wriggling child and trying to pry a mouth open.  The other forcing the medicine in and mopping up the mess.  The same strategy goes for the removal of thorns and the like.  One tries to control the wriggler and the other gets down to the nitty gritty.

This parenting malarkey thing changes a marriage.  Our focus is different now, as compared to when “us” comprised just two like-minded people.  Now “us” is five people.  However Grant and I have a common goal and unprepared though we are, we are the responsible ones.  The ones steering the ship.  Such a frightening concept, especially given the fact that we’re hardly experts on the topic.  We have no experience to fall back on and our children are our guinea pigs.  We only get one take and have to hope for the best.  We simply have to get it right, the first time round.

Much of what we’re dealing with is unchartered territory.  But yet, I feel that we complement each other.  That we make a very good team.  Grant more than makes up for my shortcomings and areas in which I’m a novice.  And hopefully I do the same for him.

At the end of the day, all we can do is our best.  Follow our heart.  Go with our gut.

And with just a teensy bit of luck, we’ll pull it off.  Holding thumbs we get it right!

Grant and I with all three of our guinea pigs

Celebrating the arrival or our third guinea pig - perhaps we'll get it right third time round?

Overjoyed to have yet another child to experiment on

Bad Cop, Good Cop, Exhibit A, B and C