‘Are they your children’ she asked me?
‘Yes’, I said slowly handing over the bank deposit looking behind me.
She sat behind the counter behind the glass looking at my children sitting in the chairs provided by the phone banking section. They sat or stood waiting while chatting amongst themselves while I filled in a deposit slip waited in line and where I was currently being served.
I had spoken to them just the once which was on entering and told them where to wait.
I looked at her and said ‘why is there a problem’.
‘No’, she said ‘there just behaving’.
I was a little surprised given that we had never visited this branch before.
‘What’s your secret’ she asked.
I looked down at my deposit slip. I hesitated and said you want to know the truth I said.
‘Yeah, what’s your secret?’ she said rearranging her blonde fringe.
Honestly, I said my children are a little scared of me, and they are it’s the honest truth.
Do they fight amongst themselves? She asked.
‘They do’ I replied ‘but not in public it’s mainly the two younger ones who bicker’ I said quickly counting as I went.
‘I would never do an errand with my two’ she said leaning back in her chair so we could see each other.
I didn’t know what else to say but ‘my husband works offshore, so we have to work together we have to be a team.’
‘Ahh.. Good for you’ she said.
I replied with ‘thank you’ and left.
I always hesitate when I tell people my kids are somewhat scared of me because despite it being true it’s not interpreted right these days. My kids aren’t scared of me that they fear for the lives or safety rather something else. They are well and truly aware of what will come should they do something we as a family may consider wrong they simply go without. The motto in the car goes like this you are good for me I am good for you.
Respect is the correct word but saying my kids respect me sounds like I have something shoved up my rear end and as I have found implies to those asking the secret that they are doing something wrong. And they aren’t they just parent differently.
My kids do respect me their father and each other. They understand the concept of family and teamwork. They know the boundaries, they know the consequence, and they know it will happen should they go ahead and make the decision to cross it. I take pride in knowing that I have raised three boys who I can take anywhere. That I can leave alone for short periods of time and I can trust them at their friends house where said, ‘friend’ is less than what we considered behaved we have achieved all this while FIFO.
When we made the decision to have children and were FIFO, I was told on several occasions that I wasn’t mother material and that they feared our decision. FIFO never affected our decision when having children. Yet when the time came despite their concern their fear they never appeared to help. Typically however their concern and instruction was always offered via the phone or in the briefest of visits. Complete strangers or those that barely knew me felt imperative that they tell me that our decision to do FIFO and raise young children this way would be detrimental to society and my boys.
That as FIFO families we would be raising a bunch of scared and naughty children and unleashing them as a burden to future society. Children that were confused about who they were {meaning boys being raised by women} and yet wartime children, children of truckies and defence personnel, all have seemed to have turned out just fine. We are no different to any other industry who has someone working outside the home. So it was with that thought that made me silently say bugger you and your opinion. I will never ask you for a hand, and so I never did. Instead it drove me to be the best parent possible and perhaps sometimes too hard and I missed out, but hindsight is an awesome thing.
The pressure I felt as a young mother was unbelievable. The pressure we felt as a family worse still but still we went on our way. Routine, love, talking, boundaries, discipline, and consequences. And yes we believed in smacking when every other avenue exhausted. Husband and I were on the same page the goals for what we wanted for our children the same kind respectful and loving. I was always bound to be a little harder and expectations higher on them because of my, parental fear factor but it seems to be paying off.
So as tired as I was as hard as it was I think I have parented well, and this is the result, respect. They do as I ask most times {they are children after all}, they understand the importance of teamwork, time, working and reward, how their behaviour affects others and consequence. Parenting and managing FIFO and life in a positive way have contributed to that. FIFO has contributed to that.
However to say it has been all Huggies commercials would be a lie and nor am I an expert on anything. I learnt early how hard the fall is from that high riding horse called my way is the only way, and it’s been no smooth ride. I have made a shitload of mistakes, I own them and yet I have well-behaved mannered boys who care about what I think and what their father thinks. My boys, they pick me flowers tell me they love me. They beam when they see me and I them hardly the result of fearing for their lives.
Am I gloating? Yes. Will it last? I like to think it will and given that I will not stop parenting ever I’m hoping with the enormous roller coaster ahead it might. I know what could be because I’m not naive and yet I can’t wait to see what sort of men I can help them become.
And to those in society {society isn’t evryone} who doubted us FIFO and all I thank you for your continued non-support. So far it has made me, my kids, my family who we are now and who we are becoming. For that, you can thank me us we later when our good sons walk your princesses be it boy or girl down the aisle.
xxDeb
