The luxury of one-on-one time with your child

Last week of Summer (Part 2): Back-to-School, manicures, Catholic trauma, Juniors, Thanks Penneys, podcast, Seamus Heaney

Sep 04, 2024

I can remember as a teenager seeing the TV show “Supernanny” and one thing that stuck with me, even then, was Nanny Jojo emphasising the importance of one-on-one time between a parent and a child. I don't know why it struck me in particular. Maybe because our house was full and fairly chaotic. The only time I remember having one-on-one time with my mother, was one Sunday morning as we peeled the potatoes while everyone else was at Mass. Sorry no, that is a Seamus Heaney poem. It didn’t happen to me. I’m always mixing that up.

Having my mother to myself is something I still crave, even now, but it rarely happens because our lives are busy and the family has only gotten bigger.

My own home now resembles one of the before scenes of a Supernanny episode: where the parents sob into the camera about how they have lost all control and their children, in the background, hurl physical and verbal abuse at them. (I should look back at those episodes come to think of it and get some proper parenting tips but for now, I’ll stick to the one thing I remember which is the one on one time).

One on one time: it sounds so achievable but it is so difficult in reality to fit in. I’ve had plenty of one-on-one time with the youngest: whenever the oldest is in school, or at swimming or at dance camp but I can count on one hand all the times I’ve had alone time with my eldest daughter in the past two years, if you don't count doctor’s appointments. Though if Seamus Heaney is counting peeling the spuds, feck it, maybe I will count doctor’s appointments. Especially since I’ve invented a completely self-serving “tradition” whereby we get a Magnolia cupcake after a visit to the doctor. If you've ever seen me post a pic of a Levain cookie on Instagram, I've almost certainly just had a bikini wax. Now there’s an Insta versus reality image you didn’t think you were getting today!

Unfortunately for my firstborn you see, before she was even two years old, her younger sister came along and with that, she received an immediate promotion to the role of “big girl”. I’ve largely been leaving her to fend for herself ever since. If I have both kids in a park or playground and they run in opposite directions, I go after the youngest and hope the eldest will figure out how to stay safe, even if she was only 3. I have actually lost her in public places more times than I can count. I've attempted to pass off these incidents as funny anecdotes to friends and family but nobody ever laughs, or (what I really want them to do), chime in with all the times they lost a 3 year old in New York city. So I won't tell them here. I've already said too much.

The specific one-on-one times I’ve had with my eldest in the past two years number five. In our first month in New York, I took a notion of bringing her (then 3) to a kid’s play in Central Park. On the walk there, she kept saying how she wanted to go swimming with her dad and during the performance, in a fairly small indoor theatre, she stood up and announced that she wanted to watch something else. Each Christmas, I've brought her to the Christmas Spectacular at Radio City Hall (AMAZING. I can’t wait to go again this year.). Both times, she asked where her sister was and told me how she thought her sister would really like it (sweet but also…appreciate this unique and special time with your mother!!!). We went to a family concert in Carnegie Hall. For her 4th birthday, we went to the pop-up Barbie cafe on Fulton Street. It was Summer 2023. We dressed in pink, had pink lemonade, swung on pink swings and took our picture in the pink Barbie box. It was fun but she seemed freaked out by why it was just the two of us and again, kept asking where her sister was.

Maybe it’s because she is 5 now or because she’s had a very long summer spent in the company of me and her sister, but we had a mammy-daughter date to celebrate her birthday and her first day in big school and it was perfect.

There really was nothing to do to get ready for school. There’s no uniform, no booklist, not even a lunch. The school emphasised over and over that there is nothing they need to bring and our newly minted 5 year old was adamant that she didn't want a new schoolbag. So what do you get the 5 year old who has everything? A manicure. A back to school manicure. Sparkly pink nails for your first day in Junior Infants/Kindergarten - how times have changed!

The school website didn't say anything about nail polish in the dress code and I asked a friend who is a teacher in NYC what she thought and she said it’s only the Catholic schools that don’t allow it. We lolled. Of course it is.

I live near a public high school and passing it one day as class broke for the day, I saw a student wearing a t-shirt that had printed across the front ‘ABORTION’. I thought back to my own school days when there were designated uniform inspectors among the teachers and they conducted themselves like undercover cops. Sudden sting operations. A surprise uniform check in the study hall, where they would check the length of all skirts, the position of our collars, the suitability of our footwear. If anything was out of place or was missing, you’d be sent down (after a very public bollocking) to the sorry stash of spare pieces of uniform that was kept under the stage. *Shudder*. The idea of wearing a t-shirt to school that said ABORTION…was just so….laughable. Like actually hilarious. Imagine someone had done that. I'd say a psychiatrist would have been called. The first time anyone in the 90s actually believed in mental health. “Hello yes, it’s her mental health - she has none”.

Saturday

We went for our mother/daughter manicure in Milk & Cookies Kids Spa on 33rd street and it was so unbelievably special. The staff was so kind and took lots of photos as we sat side by side getting our nails painted. When they put hand lotion on her hands, they squeezed it out in the shape of a heart and told her to smell it because it smelled of marshmallows.

I watched two sisters getting their hair cut and another girl, sitting comfortably, reading Diary of a Wimpy Kid while the stylist set to work on her back-to-school braids.

When we were done, there were cookies and chocolate milk waiting for us at the bar (some of the nicest cookies I’ve had in New York and I didn’t even have to go through a bikini wax first).

After our manicure, we took the 6 train to Brooklyn for some back-to-school shopping. I was just thinking I’d need to keep an eye out for somewhere to get lunch when the elevator doors of the DeKalb Avenue station opened and before us, like a beacon, stood Junior’s. I had a Brooklyn egg cream and a pastrami sandwich while the lady had chicken nuggets and chips. We opted against the cheesecake it’s famous for because we have eyes and it looks disgusting.

After finishing up our food and our colouring, we went round to Primark to stock up. On hoodies, on leggings, on socks, tights and pants. On lipgloss and sleepmasks and slippers and plants. (No not plants, it just rhymed there and I couldn't fit ‘Lilo and Stitch’ in. Why so much Lilo & Stitch, Penneys? WHY?)

Especially bonded

This date was only 3 days ago but I feel especially bonded with her ever since. She enjoyed the luxury of my undivided attention and being made a fuss of. I got to see her be herself out in the world. I didn’t need to referee or discipline and she didn’t need to jockey for position with her sister.

I marvelled out how grown up she is. Marvelled at how I grew her inside me. I remembered the moment she was born. Ten to four on a Wednesday morning. I remembered the face of the baby that was handed to me; I can still see that face in her now.

She is so ready for school. I am so excited for her! And proud of her. What a privilege it is to spend time with her and get to see her grow up. How lucky am I?

PODCAST

I had the distinct pleasure of being a guest along with Gemma Allen on Sophie Colgan’s podcast, Navigating New York. In it, we discuss the highs and lows of bringing up children in New York. You can listen to it here on Spotify or Apple or wherever you get your podcasts!

Seamus Heaney

I threw in that reference because I remembered that poem from school but I’ve looked it up again and how beautiful is this:

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

When All The Others Were Away at Mass by Seamus Heaney
When all the others were away at Mass
I was all hers as we peeled potatoes.
They broke the silence, let fall one by one
Like solder weeping off the soldering iron:
Cold comforts set between us, things to share
Gleaming in a bucket of clean water.
And again let fall. Little pleasant splashes
From each other's work would bring us to our senses.

So while the parish priest at her bedside
Went hammer and tongs at the prayers for the dying
And some were responding and some crying
I remembered her head bent towards my head,
Her breath in mine, our fluent dipping knives-
Never closer the whole rest of our lives.