Competitive Parenting

Casting my mind back a couple of years, I was a lone-parent. I rarely found life a struggle, in fact I relished it. I did an exceptional job bringing up my daughter on my own and she did not want for anything. I have never liked to consider myself as a competitive parent. Of course I want the best for my daughter and feel triumphant when she excels at something but I like to think of myself as quietly confident in her abilities, content with the wonderful human being that she is.

That was until the merit awards came along. The school, gives out much sought after certificates after a certain number of stickers have been collected. The stickers being of the "Great Reading!" "Super Work!" "Fantastic Help!" variety. Collect twelve stickers and get your merit award signed off by none other than The Head then take home to proudly stick on wall of your choice.

"So Darling"

"Yes Mummy"

"These merit awards"

"Yes Mummy, what about them?"

"Who's got the most merit awards? I mean not that it matters, I'm simply curious, just out of interest"

"Johnathon"

"Johnathon? Who's he?

"You know, Johnathon. It's not fair, the teacher's ALWAYS giving him stickers all the time"

Johnathon? Haven't heard much about him before. Hmmm. Well I expect goody-two-shoes Johnathon doesn't have single mum for a parent who works four jobs to pay the bills. I can just imagine him in his beautiful pristine house with his Mummy and Daddy standing over him smiling sweetly while he does extra Maths and English to stay ahead of the game. In fact she's probably a stay at home mum and he's the director of a large firm with a company car, pension and a dental plan.

"Well done son, great job" A sparkle of light pings from his shiny white teeth.

Johnathon, hair combed neatly looks up fondly at Dad and smiles.

"Gee thanks Dad"


A few months later.....

I am disturbed to see one of Missy's friends at the end of the school day coming out of school with tears, real ones streaming down her face. Her eyes are sad and she is inhaling in short bursts the way you do when you can't stop crying. Then another child, this time one of the tough boys also upset. Oh God what's happened? All the kids sobbing. Before I even know what's up I am filled with terror and sorrow. What is it? I scan the sea of red faces for my little angel.

"Baby what is it? What the matter?"

"Johnathon's leaving"

"Oh no really? How come?"

Me thinks he's probably about to attend an international school of excellence out in the far east.

"He's been given a new Mummy and Daddy"

"What do you mean a new Mummy and Daddy?"

I am very confused.

"He's been waiting for a new Mummy and Daddy and they've found him some so he's moving away to be with them"

More uncontrollable sobs.

"Well where are his real Mummy and Daddy?"

"He doesn't have them"

"Why not?"

"They were bad so he lived in a home while he waited for a new set"

Out of school slowly walked Johnathon, cradled either side by his friends, a tiny dot of a boy at least six inches shorter than his peers. His face was red and swollen from his sobs.

I went home that evening and told my man about Johnathon and cried. Things are not always what they seem.

Johnathon has visited school a few time since he left to get a new Mummy and Daddy and is doing very well.