Things I Said I’d Never Do as a Parent…but I do!

Hayley Doyle
3 days ago
4 min read

Family of four lying on a beige rug, smiling and laughing, surrounded by cushions. Casual clothing in blues and grays creates a joyful mood.

It’s easy to judge something when you haven’t experienced it first hand. You can look on and think, well, I would never do that. Before I became a parent, I made all sorts of comments, perhaps out loud to another friend without kids, or silently to myself, which is often worse. I cringed at the “PTA” types because, yes, I branded them as a type. Clipboard. Ponytail. Aggressively organised.

And oh, how I remember saying things like, ‘If I have kids, they’ll all be on skis by the time they’re three years old.’ Wild.

Because kids, I did have. They are currently nine and six, and have they been on skis since they were three? Have they heck. Just thinking about the cost of a skiing holiday makes me need to lie down in a dark room and rock. At least I have my fellow PTA friends to cry with in solidarity, dreaming of slopes and snow and goggle-faced family selfies as we stand in the playground holding a half eaten rice cake, congratulating ourselves for simply remembering it was non-uniform day.

I sometimes can’t believe all the things I said I would NEVER do - the capital letters were super important at the time - and yet, hello, here we are. Doing them. Recommending them. Defending them with surprising passion, like this was the plan all along.

I once said…I will never have “mum” friends, I’ve already got friends.

Actually…I realised how essential it was to talk to people who understood the cracked nipples, the nap sagas, and boiling sweet potatoes for weaning. We shared moments of failure, convinced we’d scarred our children for life. I’ve found soulmates in other mums. They get it. They get me.

Whatever baffling phase my child is in, they’re in it too - in their own way - and we stick together.

And kids aside, these women are brilliant. I’m lucky I opened my mind and let them in.

I once said…I’ll never shout.

Actually…My kids only respond to the shout; the one that comes after calling their names in 50 calm variations. I have bled myself dry of gentle parenting tactics. So I shout. And voilà. Teeth get cleaned. Shoes go on feet. They stop winding each other up… for a moment, at least.

I once said…I’d never join the PTA

Actually…I did. And I made genuine friends. I felt part of a community more than at any other stage of my life so far. I love my kids seeing their mum and dad enthusiastic about school fundraisers, laughing with other parents, showing up. I organise an annual live music event, pulling me back into my musical roots, all to raise money for the school. And the biggest surprise? I care. I care about what the school needs and how we can pull together to make that happen.

I once said…I’d never rely on screens.

Actually…We do. We have. We have made mistakes. It’s been a journey. We handed over the phone in certain moments when we just needed a minute - or more - to finish a thought, a coffee, or remember who we were before the question started. At the time it felt necessary.

In hindsight, it didn’t always feel good and I am left with some regret. Undoing that took work. Now, screens are used strategically. We have rules. We’re not extreme. But we stick to what we’ve agreed, and we keep screen time family-friendly and intentional.

I once said…My kids will never eat McDonald’s.

Actually…Not only do they love a Happy Meal. I love a Happy Meal. They’re cheap! They keep

my kitchen clean! We don’t have them often at all, but when we do, it’s an easy treat they’re

grateful for. Honestly, after picking up enough home-cooked, healthy food off the floor to open a small café, the odd Happy Meal feels like a minor mercy. I can always hand them a slice of cucumber when we get home; problem solved.

I once said…I’d never rush bedtime (oh, and I’d do ALL the voices in the story)

Actually…My kids beg me not to. As a trained actor, this hurts. But they don’t care about a

performance. What they really want is to stay up a bit longer, and they procrastinate so brilliantly that by the time they do get into bed, I am too knackered, too jaded and frankly too traumatised by the day to attempt anything resembling an accent.

I once said…My kids will never share my bed.

Actually…My bed IS their bed. And their bed, yup, is often my bed. I genuinely love it when they stumble in half asleep and clamber between us, no thought involved, just a need to be close. I adore how warm their skin feels, how they flop into the most satisfying cuddles. And when they sleep like a starfish or shove a tiny foot into my head, I’ll retreat to their cosy bed for some sanity. Because I know this won’t last forever. And when they’re suddenly too big - and far too cool - to sleep with us, I know I’ll miss it dreadfully.

I once said…I’ll never crave alone-time.

Actually…I cherish being on the loo when they’re at school. When they’re home, even with the door locked, there’s a constant, hopeful “Mama…?” When I finally emerge, it’s usually to inspect a broken pencil or answer urgent questions about a birthday still ten months away. I also love being alone in the car, pulling into the driveway and sitting in silence for as long as possible. And browsing a shop, ANY shop, solo? What a treat.

I once said…I’ll never put my kids before my career.

Actually…I built a new career that put my kids first. I said no to jobs that meant constant travel. I didn’t want to be working through bedtime. It shocked me to realise this was what I wanted. I needed to do what worked for me. After always being somebody who believed my career defined me, this was a big wakeup to never say, never.