Happy in the parent trap

Parent of two Amie Slavin thinks she might get feisty when people draw the wrong conclusions about who’s looking after whom

Being possessed of what might be politely described as a distinctive sense of humour, I quite often find myself cheerfully declaring that I only had kids in order to get the household staff I can’t afford, remembering too late that this is, regrettably, precisely the assumption many people make about disabled parents. Children cast (or forced) into the role of carer, given too much responsibility, and denied childish life far too early.

I have been wondering, since before my first daughter was born, what I might say or do to the first well-meaning person to syrup at her: “And do you take good care of Mummy then?”

She is three-and-a-half now, and whilst I remain alert for well-meaning strangers casually pressuring her into a caring role, I must admit that the question of where the transition from child to helper takes place is a more complex one than I expected.

I am adamant that it is entirely inappropriate to suggest, even in the mildest terms, that my elder daughter Sophia should be in any way responsible for helping me. It is true, however, that as she demonstrates joy in feeling useful, I do engage her in minor assisting tasks, thus prompting further exploration of the issue.

For example, this morning, when my younger daughter Jihana was experimenting with eating – and thoroughly destroying a slice of bread and butter, I asked her sister to help me gather up the stray morsels, as they rained onto the kitchen floor. Was this taking advantage of her excellent eyesight, or was it simply allowing her to join in?

Likewise, when Sophia and I run the gauntlet of her nursery school’s main foyer, thronged with miniature people, I try to avoid using my white cane more than is necessary, for fear of taking out tiny knees. As we proceed, hand in hand, I do pay attention to her body language, to assist in piloting us safely to her classroom.

This amounts to nothing more than noticing her grip tightening as we approach obstacles, but it wouldn’t happen if I wasn’t blind.

My own view is that it helps kids to build self-esteem and confidence if they are allowed to take responsibility for small tasks. I don’t, however, expect my daughter’s help for my own sake and, most importantly, I never allow her to feel I am relying on her.

When she’s big enough for real responsibility, I’ll get her a pet. Until then, she can care devotedly for her teddies. I’m holding out for that far-off day when she passes her driving test.