Writings by me

This is one of those things where before kids, I knew exactly where I stood. Of course we should not let our kids win! They will not win in life all the time and the sooner we can teach them this, the better.

Yeah, yeah, yeah that’s all well and good but imagine the scene; things in the house are shaky, perhaps you’re stuck inside because it’s raining (or because of a global pandemic…), everyone’s grumpy and you really want and need to turn things around. 

So you play a game together and the mood starts to change. Everyone’s starting to enjoy themselves, your heart feels a little lighter and you start to feel like the day has been salvaged. 

And then it starts to become clear that your child might lose the game. The storm clouds start to gather. It comes down to one move that means sudden death and then the decision becomes clear: either you claim (hard-won) victory and all hell breaks loose or you break a golden parenting rule and you (whispers) let them win. 

I used to be much more hard-arse about this but 9 years of parenting has worn me down. I’m now much more likely to slip a £500 note to my eldest during Monopoly (I am always the banker for a reason) than risk a disturbance to this new-found peace after he lands on Daddy’s Park Lane hotel for the third time. 

The problem is once you start letting them win it’s even harder to imagine being able to teach them how to lose gracefully. 

I know I know, that old rod for my own back is back. But what can I say? Easy in the short-term is winning at the moment. Hopefully I’ll get a grip very soon.