Boomerang Parenting

My son’s report card often comes back with the advice to practice listening. I think what the teacher probably means is that he should go beyond selective listening. Because in my own experience, my son actually listens too well to whatever serves him well. You just don’t know it until a few weeks later, when he uses the lesson you taught him to point out your own shortcomings. Here is how that works.

I am shopping online for a new silicone bib for my daughter after we left hers in a vacation home. My son leans over my shoulders. “Why are you shopping” he asks. “Because we need a new bib for your sister”, I respond. He emphatically stares at the assortment of bibs hanging on hooks in our kitchen. They are not as nice as the one I have in my online shopping cart, but they do the trick. “Do you really need a bib, or do you want a bib? These are two different things.” I hear myself say this exact phrase. I see us in the supermarket, where he saw a stuffed animal that he really wanted. I honestly had no idea I sounded that annoying.

Fast forward to spring break. My son and I have a full week in the snow, skiing every day. Except for the one day that is supposed to be a rest day. We first go on an hour hike with poppa and his dog. Then we play soccer for an hour. Both before lunch. When we finish lunch, he asks me to play soccer again. “I am a bit tired now, but maybe later” I respond, looking up from my book. An evil smile appears on his face. “Come on, it will be fun!” He bursts into a loud laugh now. “That is what you always tell me when you want to me do something I don’t want to do”. “Really, I do?” I ask. I honestly had no idea. But I now vaguely recall me uttering these words when I try to pry him away from his Nintendo to go for a walk with his sister. Again, that sounded pretty annoying.

The next day is a ski day again. We go early because there is 10 cm of fresh snow. We ski a few powder runs, and we both feel great. In the chairlift up, he points out a ‘run’ he has done with my husband. It is an off the map double black diamond that basically twists and twirls around rocks and cliffs, all under the chair, for a full audience. “Shall we do fraggle rock?” He sees me hesitating. “Come on mama, if you don’t try you will never know what it’s like.” I literally hit my head on the chairlift bar at this point. But he wins. We go. And he coaches me patiently through it, pointing out where cliffs are, and waiting for me every turn. At least that part of my parenting style is not annoying. “This is so much fun!” I shout to him once we are back at a groomed run. He is beaming.

My son is nine-and-a-half now, and pretty switched on to other people’s feelings and thoughts. The fact that he internalizes my ‘lessons’ and boomerangs them back at me, shouldn’t surprise me. It does make me pause for a second though. If he is copying my parenting lessons, what else is he copying? Everything most likely. From how I deal with frustrations, to how I comfort his sister, to how I talk to my mom on the phone. While I am making a mental note to myself to stop licking my knife after dinner (a skill I learnt from my dad), I overhear my son talking to his dad on the phone. It is about Mech Arena, a game that my son deleted after I showed him how it constantly lured him into spending money.

“Which one of the four robots should I get?” his dad asks.

“Are you spending or saving?” is my kid’s answer.

“Ehh...” his dad pauses.

“It sounds like you already spent some money”, my son continues. “How much did you spend? Fifty bucks?”

“More or less” his dad’s voice gets soft at this point.

“More or less? Or up of fifty?”

I can’t hold my laugh anymore. At least I am not the only parent suffering from the boomerang effect.