To return, for a moment, to the care I received during my early years, my mother wanted to be a Hugger but ended up being a not very responsive and quite aggressive Flexi. She felt lots of love but was rarely in a state to express it. I believe there were good, as well as bad, consequences.
One bad one was that her mothering set my electrochemical thermostat in ‘angry’, ‘risk-taking’ and ‘sad’ modes, fluctuating between them. In later life, if nothing was particularly going on, those were my basic default positions. It is interesting that I did not become a drunk or a drug addict or a criminal, for those are common consequences of that kind of thermostatic setting. Why not is another story (I am, however, terminally addicted to nicotine, nowadays ingested via lozenges).
Another problem was that I did not take well to the inescapable truth that external reality often did not correspond to what I wanted. When I arrived at school, I found it extremely hard to accept that there were rules which had to be obeyed. There were people and social processes that existed independent of my wishes, and because I had not been responded to early on, or loved for much of the time, I tended to deny their power and have a rumbling anger that led me to behave in ways which provoked them to attack or restrain me.
But the consequences of my early care were not all bad. Along with their faults, my parents could be tremendously lively, optimistic and encouraging. From as soon as I was able to play, they rarely failed to show that this was something they approved. I was always allowed to challenge the status quo.
Whether we are talking about me or you, little that was done to us is completely irreversible. Where parenthood is so refreshing is that it provides an opportunity to avoid the mistakes of the past.
To this end, I hope to have persuaded you of two things by writing this book.
The first is that babies and toddlers need to be in the presence of a responsive, loving adult at all times in order to thrive. They do not need a teacher, they do not need friends, stimulation or education. Nor does that person have to be its mother.
The second is to help you understand how your past has affected your reaction to motherhood and how best to make the transition from being Bridget Jones to a mother who is comfortable in her skin. Two nuggets of wisdom from the stories of the mothers I met particularly stood out.
Jess, the full-time working Flexi in Chapter 13, said, ‘You have got to get your head around the fact that, if you have children, some people who are less talented or deserving will get promoted over you … something’s got to give. You can’t do everything and you must not get wound up by that. It’s either your home or work life that has to be sacrificed. You must decide which and be honest about it rather than pretend you can have it all.’ We live in a society of ‘It Could be You’, ‘Shop Till You Drop’, credit-fuelled consumer junkies. Whether at school, at work or on the way to the ballot box, the authorities constantly exhort us to want more and better, and above all, to believe that this is both possible (without limits) and our entitlement. But the idea that anyone can Have It All is completely bonkers: infantile, in fact. While I have no objection at all to my four-year-old son telling me that he is a better goal scorer than Wayne Rooney or that he can fly, it is disgraceful that the leaders in English-speaking nations encourage adults to think magically too, not to grow up. That is what I take away from Jess’s comment: that to become good parents we really do need to grow up. As I shall explain in a moment, this applies every bit as much to fathers as to the mothers I interviewed, who were without exception strikingly concerned to do the best by their children.
The other nugget of wisdom that sticks with me is the story of Carrie, the at-home Flexi in Chapter 15 who seemed so comfortable in her skin. She had managed to learn from her experience. By doing so, she was able to see that just because she desired something (like lovable rogues) did not mean she should pursue it. So she had been able to see beyond the many lures of our hedonistic, imprudent, short-term, ‘be yourself’ culture to identify what would actually be good for her. Having established this, based on real experience rather than envy of what others have, she was able to place the limits on what she wanted that are required if we are to put into practice Jess’s advice not to want to have it all. Unlike most of us, Carrie doesn’t just want to be herself, she actually is herself. That means she has a strong basis for turning things down, for deciding what direction to take, and it results in the ultimate hope of being not just a good mother, but of being a good person, of self-concordance. If you can get to a state where what you do and who you are for most of the time corresponds to what you want to do and be, you have cracked it, in my book.
That is why, ultimately, as described in the last chapter, I contend that what matters most is not what mothering approach you have. It is what kind of person you are. If you sort that out, you will be able to be responsive and attuned to your children, or arrange for others to do so.
Putting it like this places all the burden on you. My final conclusion concerns me and mine – men.
I believe that in the future (whether that be 20 or 100 years’ time), men will be as likely as women to be wrestling with the issues addressed in this book. When a baby comes along, men will feel as torn as women between the desire to work and their responsibility to ensure that the needs of their under-threes get met. This will be a hugely significant improvement in humankind’s prospects. When the father appreciates that it is his pigeon as much as his partner’s that these needs get met, society will adapt to maximise the chances of this happening. I predict that about one quarter of men will be caring for their children at home from soon after the birth. Maybe half of couples will share the care, with the woman as likely to be working as the man. And maybe one quarter of women will do the care full-time. Rather than nationwide networks of day care nurseries, the money will be spent on parent–infant therapy and practical support at home for those finding it difficult. If substitute care is best, it will be provided by nannies or minders, one-to-one. Huge efforts will be made to help disharmonious couples to resolve their problems, with a strong focus on the way that each individual’s childhood is disrupting the relationship. Before even getting pregnant, it will be routine for partners to have discussed in detail what approach they are going to take to the nurture.
But that is for the future. In the meantime, let me end with this thought. What kind of person do you want your under-three to be aged 45? Will they have gone to university, what will they have studied, what career will they have followed? What sort of partner do you hope they have chosen? When will they have started having children? As to the sort of person they will be, it is not enough for you to say that you want them to be happy. Just as it behoves all of us to work at defining what we mean by this for ourselves, so with our children. Do not be scared to admit that how you care for your child is going to hugely influence how it turns out. Then work out how you can become comfortable in your skin because that is likely to ensure that you meet its early needs … which is what will ultimately decide whether your child has a fruitful, sane life.