From the moment my daughter was born, I started to change myself. I changed my attitude to things, and I even had what they call “sympathetic pregnancy symptoms” (my stomach started to expand as my pregnant partner’s tummy started growing).

I started to become more and more like my own dad. And with these changes, it became more apparent that my partner and I have very different cultural backgrounds.

Becoming my dad is not a good thing! The echoing images I have of my childhood are of two people arguing and my dad leaving, only to come back an hour later and carry on arguing. But I always knew where I stood with my dad. I have fond memories of sitting with my brother in the back of the car. We were fed our favourite chocolates while he put a bet in the betting shop on a “three legged donkey”. At least, that is what he used to call it when he tore up his betting receipt afterwards. I loved and respected him.

My parents were 1960s’ strict. It’s almost impossible to compare parents of 60s’ with today’s parents. The change in approach has been nothing short of astounding. My grandparents said 'never “speak” to children'. It seems outrageous to think about what was acceptable then, but as many of my generation say, it never did me any harm. A smack on the bum was totally acceptable then, and I knew many friends who suffered worse fates for minor errors in their foolish young judgements. Unruly children suffered the same fate at school. I can recall being bent over the headmaster’s desk and thwacked repeatedly with a cane. This happened more than once, and I must say, I did deserve it on all occasions. I was not a bad child, just stupid.

Either way, I knew I was never going to have children and bring them up under a strict regime. The last person anybody wants to be like is his or her own parent.

My Swedish partner’s upbringing is very different to mine. Hers is the stuff of fairytales, running barefoot in the grass whilst blowing dandelions in slow motion.  The winters were harsh but that was about all. But I want my kids to learn and toughen up so that they are equipped with the skills needed to face the harsh realities of life. For my partner and I, this has led to a real conflict of child rearing styles, and varying approaches in bringing up our children.

I love my children so very much that I find it hard to get REALLY angry with them, regardless of what they do. They’re only children, so I don’t expect them to act like an adult. But sometimes, tactful diplomacy only gets you so far. “Oh, please darling be quiet” doesn’t always work. It’s so strange that I now found myself saying things my dad would say.



My dad would say;

“Listen!” and he’d give you an icy stare that made you stand completely still.

‘Listen’ actually meant, “You'll see what happens when you DON’T listen!”

“Top your noise!” (His Caribbean accent means the 's' in stop is not pronounced).

This was said while he was trying to read the newspaper, or watch the news, which felt like everyday. Basically, it was repeated anytime screaming kids were interrupting.



Its feels so funny to say these things, and each time I do, I feel like laughing. I hear myself in my dads’ voice. Even my slippers are similar. But the similarity hasn’t ended there.

The other day I found myself buying a Marabou for my daughter who sat in the car while I marked out my Tipslördag betting slip. Is there such a thing as a “three legged team”?

As far as my daughter is concerned, there is, now.

Are you turning into one of your parents?

Is this a good or bad thing?

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