At what age were your children most fun?
Children are at their best around the age of five, according to a survey, and most difficult to be around between 10 and 12, apparently. Our panellists discuss their favourite times with their kids
Little boy with toy rabbit
‘Two-year-olds are a living testament to how much fun it is to audibly express your every waking thought.’ Photograph: Voisin/Phanie/Rex
Justine Roberts, Joanna Moorhead, Ally Fogg and Viv Groskop
Wednesday 9 September 2015 15.53 BST Last modified on Thursday 10 September 2015 11.54 BST
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Justine Roberts: A two-year-old is the wildest, most affectionate ride of your life
Justine Roberts
Two-year-olds get a pretty bad press; they are what PR professionals might describe as a “challenging brand”. Pint-sized tyrants in unstructured shoes, permanently smelling of something you can’t quite (or don’t want to) put your finger on, they are utterly degenerate. From the moment they wake up (5am) until the moment they go to sleep (much later than you would like), they indulge in epic levels of egoism, selfishness and inappropriate touching.
But these traits – along with their loudly expressed preference for their favourite person, which is you – are what makes them so uncontrollably lovable.
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Who among us can honestly say she doesn’t feel the urge to hurl herself at a colleague who’s using the best office mug and rugby tackle her to the ground, perhaps taking the opportunity to bite her shins? Who has not wanted to cry hot tears because their socks are just so wrong? Who does not, occasionally, want to throw their plate at the wall because their food has been inexcusably badly prepared?
Two-year-olds are a hilarious reminder of all the things we struggle to suppress, an incendiary mobile display of emotional and physical catharsis, and a living testament to how much fun – and how wildly ill-advised – it is to audibly express your every waking thought. They also have perfect skin, brilliant bed-hair, the best laughs, utterly squidgeable thighs and a furiously aggressive attitude towards other people’s damned opinions.
Adults cannot get away with this stuff, with the noble exceptions of Napoleon and Joan Rivers, but for the short period a toddler is yours, they will give you the wildest, funniest and most affectionate ride of your life.
Joanna Moorhead: Having a newborn is the privilege of a lifetime
Joanna Moorhead
One of the best moments of my life was on the postnatal ward the day after my second daughter Elinor was born. She had spent the night in my bed, after an unwelcome attempt by the midwives to move her to a cot, and now she was lying between my breasts, in that hollow designed for newborns between feeds. The consultant dropped by with a bunch of students. “Aha,” he said. “This, ladies and gentlemen, is how it ought to be.” And I felt ridiculously, hopelessly, delightfully proud, of Elinor and of myself, and bursting with excitement for the milky, muddled mayhem that lay ahead.
They say young babies don’t know where they stop and their mother starts – and that’s exactly how it felt for me too. I loved every moment of my babies’ babyhoods; I loved the paradox, every time I looked into their tiny faces, that I knew absolutely everything about them, and yet nothing at all. I loved how they were bursting with personality – I’m truly shocked that anyone could possibly think all babies are the same – and I loved how I was the first person to see that personality being unravelled.
Newborn baby boy (0-3 months) sleeping on mother’s shoulder, close-up Facebook Twitter Pinterest
‘They say young babies don’t know where they stop and their mother starts.’ Photograph: Vivid Images/Getty Images
I’ve heard parents say newborns are too all-consuming, but I adored how absorbing they are. Those early weeks were a retreat from normal life, a time to stop the clocks and focus on a job no one else in the world could do, and that would be gold in the bank for my baby’s future. I was experiencing my children from a unique viewpoint. They were unfolding before me, changing exponentially from day to day and sometimes from hour to hour. It was more than my favourite time, it was the privilege of a lifetime, and it was the time on which everything else in my relationship with my daughters was going to be built.
Ally Fogg: From 10 to 12 opens a tiny bubble of paradise
Ally Fogg
If Britain’s parents think that 10- to 12-year-old kids are the least fun to play with, then they are doing it wrong. Those years open a tiny of bubble of paradise in which you can really play without shame. You don’t always have to conspire to lose at draughts or Ludo. Out in the park, you can nutmeg your kid, dump them on their arse on the grass, smash home a hat-trick, pull your shirt over your head and run around screaming without being considered an abject monster. You can leave them in the digital dust of a Mario Kart circuit and there’s a decent chance it will result in laughter, not tears.
Treasure those moments, because within months those little doting faces will be sneering down from a great height, wearily amused by your incompetence and decrepitude and treating your puny efforts to manage modernity, technology and mortality with the contempt and derision they so surely deserve.
As for the best years to be a parent, that is easy, there are two. The first is precisely the age of seven, when the thirst for experiences and knowledge is a constant joy. At seven, the world remains rich with myth and magic, and almost anything can become hilarious. The other perfect age is 13, when the flowering of adulthood brings a new kind of relationship, like the best friendship you ever had. It just so happens my kids are seven and 13, and if you had asked me this question last year, I’d have said six and 12; ask me next, I’ll say eight and 14. Every year of parenthood is a new challenge and a new terror and some whole new kind of fun. If I’m not enjoying it, I’m doing it wrong.
Viv Groskop: It’s the best of times and the worst of times – at all ages
Viv Groskop
Wouldn’t we love to think that there’s some golden age of childhood where everything is wonderful and “easy” (whatever that means)? Partly because that’s a romantic and beautiful idea. Who doesn’t love romantic and beautiful ideas? But also because it would help us to get through the difficult moments, to know that it’s not all difficult moments. There are high points. And natural lows. Right?
Wrong. The idea that there is a “best” or “worst” age for children is a nonsense. And actually a bit offensive to individual children. There is no such thing as best and worst times. It’s another myth peddled to feed the narcissism around parenting. After all, who is defining this halcyon/horrific time? The adult, of course. And why should childhood be about the experience of the parent and what bits of it they love and hate the most? It’s a selfish way to look at childhood.
Why should childhood be about the experience of the parent? It's a selfish way to look at childhood
It’s also arbitrary. Do we really think that the phases of life randomly demarcated by age are more significant than external circumstances? Surely from the child’s point of view, the “best” times in their life are when things around them feel balanced, routine and safe. This can be true at any age and untrue at any age. It’s also so much about personality – of the child and the parent. I know parents who are naturals around teenagers and others (myself included) who are so gooey around babies that they may as well retrain as midwives. These feelings and experiences are subjective and intensely personal. They’re not truisms.
There’s also something sad about thinking: “If we can just get through this bit …” Why not just live through it and accept it for what it is rather than having to put yourself at the heart of some glamorous drama where you the parent are the hero-protector or tortured victim (of the “terrible twos”, of the “nightmare teen years”). It’s their life, not ours. Also, the really best, best time in any family? When you have loads of spare time and money. Good luck with that.
รบกวนผู้รู้ภาษาอังกฤษ ช่วยแปลบทความให้หน่อ
Children are at their best around the age of five, according to a survey, and most difficult to be around between 10 and 12, apparently. Our panellists discuss their favourite times with their kids
Little boy with toy rabbit
‘Two-year-olds are a living testament to how much fun it is to audibly express your every waking thought.’ Photograph: Voisin/Phanie/Rex
Justine Roberts, Joanna Moorhead, Ally Fogg and Viv Groskop
Wednesday 9 September 2015 15.53 BST Last modified on Thursday 10 September 2015 11.54 BST
Share on Facebook Share on Twitter Share via Email Share on Pinterest Share on LinkedIn Share on Google+
Shares
1,512
Comments
360
Save for later
Justine Roberts: A two-year-old is the wildest, most affectionate ride of your life
Justine Roberts
Two-year-olds get a pretty bad press; they are what PR professionals might describe as a “challenging brand”. Pint-sized tyrants in unstructured shoes, permanently smelling of something you can’t quite (or don’t want to) put your finger on, they are utterly degenerate. From the moment they wake up (5am) until the moment they go to sleep (much later than you would like), they indulge in epic levels of egoism, selfishness and inappropriate touching.
But these traits – along with their loudly expressed preference for their favourite person, which is you – are what makes them so uncontrollably lovable.
Advertisement
Who among us can honestly say she doesn’t feel the urge to hurl herself at a colleague who’s using the best office mug and rugby tackle her to the ground, perhaps taking the opportunity to bite her shins? Who has not wanted to cry hot tears because their socks are just so wrong? Who does not, occasionally, want to throw their plate at the wall because their food has been inexcusably badly prepared?
Two-year-olds are a hilarious reminder of all the things we struggle to suppress, an incendiary mobile display of emotional and physical catharsis, and a living testament to how much fun – and how wildly ill-advised – it is to audibly express your every waking thought. They also have perfect skin, brilliant bed-hair, the best laughs, utterly squidgeable thighs and a furiously aggressive attitude towards other people’s damned opinions.
Adults cannot get away with this stuff, with the noble exceptions of Napoleon and Joan Rivers, but for the short period a toddler is yours, they will give you the wildest, funniest and most affectionate ride of your life.
Joanna Moorhead: Having a newborn is the privilege of a lifetime
Joanna Moorhead
One of the best moments of my life was on the postnatal ward the day after my second daughter Elinor was born. She had spent the night in my bed, after an unwelcome attempt by the midwives to move her to a cot, and now she was lying between my breasts, in that hollow designed for newborns between feeds. The consultant dropped by with a bunch of students. “Aha,” he said. “This, ladies and gentlemen, is how it ought to be.” And I felt ridiculously, hopelessly, delightfully proud, of Elinor and of myself, and bursting with excitement for the milky, muddled mayhem that lay ahead.
They say young babies don’t know where they stop and their mother starts – and that’s exactly how it felt for me too. I loved every moment of my babies’ babyhoods; I loved the paradox, every time I looked into their tiny faces, that I knew absolutely everything about them, and yet nothing at all. I loved how they were bursting with personality – I’m truly shocked that anyone could possibly think all babies are the same – and I loved how I was the first person to see that personality being unravelled.
Newborn baby boy (0-3 months) sleeping on mother’s shoulder, close-up Facebook Twitter Pinterest
‘They say young babies don’t know where they stop and their mother starts.’ Photograph: Vivid Images/Getty Images
I’ve heard parents say newborns are too all-consuming, but I adored how absorbing they are. Those early weeks were a retreat from normal life, a time to stop the clocks and focus on a job no one else in the world could do, and that would be gold in the bank for my baby’s future. I was experiencing my children from a unique viewpoint. They were unfolding before me, changing exponentially from day to day and sometimes from hour to hour. It was more than my favourite time, it was the privilege of a lifetime, and it was the time on which everything else in my relationship with my daughters was going to be built.
Ally Fogg: From 10 to 12 opens a tiny bubble of paradise
Ally Fogg
If Britain’s parents think that 10- to 12-year-old kids are the least fun to play with, then they are doing it wrong. Those years open a tiny of bubble of paradise in which you can really play without shame. You don’t always have to conspire to lose at draughts or Ludo. Out in the park, you can nutmeg your kid, dump them on their arse on the grass, smash home a hat-trick, pull your shirt over your head and run around screaming without being considered an abject monster. You can leave them in the digital dust of a Mario Kart circuit and there’s a decent chance it will result in laughter, not tears.
Treasure those moments, because within months those little doting faces will be sneering down from a great height, wearily amused by your incompetence and decrepitude and treating your puny efforts to manage modernity, technology and mortality with the contempt and derision they so surely deserve.
As for the best years to be a parent, that is easy, there are two. The first is precisely the age of seven, when the thirst for experiences and knowledge is a constant joy. At seven, the world remains rich with myth and magic, and almost anything can become hilarious. The other perfect age is 13, when the flowering of adulthood brings a new kind of relationship, like the best friendship you ever had. It just so happens my kids are seven and 13, and if you had asked me this question last year, I’d have said six and 12; ask me next, I’ll say eight and 14. Every year of parenthood is a new challenge and a new terror and some whole new kind of fun. If I’m not enjoying it, I’m doing it wrong.
Viv Groskop: It’s the best of times and the worst of times – at all ages
Viv Groskop
Wouldn’t we love to think that there’s some golden age of childhood where everything is wonderful and “easy” (whatever that means)? Partly because that’s a romantic and beautiful idea. Who doesn’t love romantic and beautiful ideas? But also because it would help us to get through the difficult moments, to know that it’s not all difficult moments. There are high points. And natural lows. Right?
Wrong. The idea that there is a “best” or “worst” age for children is a nonsense. And actually a bit offensive to individual children. There is no such thing as best and worst times. It’s another myth peddled to feed the narcissism around parenting. After all, who is defining this halcyon/horrific time? The adult, of course. And why should childhood be about the experience of the parent and what bits of it they love and hate the most? It’s a selfish way to look at childhood.
Why should childhood be about the experience of the parent? It's a selfish way to look at childhood
It’s also arbitrary. Do we really think that the phases of life randomly demarcated by age are more significant than external circumstances? Surely from the child’s point of view, the “best” times in their life are when things around them feel balanced, routine and safe. This can be true at any age and untrue at any age. It’s also so much about personality – of the child and the parent. I know parents who are naturals around teenagers and others (myself included) who are so gooey around babies that they may as well retrain as midwives. These feelings and experiences are subjective and intensely personal. They’re not truisms.
There’s also something sad about thinking: “If we can just get through this bit …” Why not just live through it and accept it for what it is rather than having to put yourself at the heart of some glamorous drama where you the parent are the hero-protector or tortured victim (of the “terrible twos”, of the “nightmare teen years”). It’s their life, not ours. Also, the really best, best time in any family? When you have loads of spare time and money. Good luck with that.