Joys of Parenting

As I put my little one down for a nap, I stretched and let out a huge sigh of relief. I announced to myself that we had two hours of peace and quiet. I reminded myself that parenting is far harder than we imagine. As I drifted into my thoughts, I found myself wondering—how did my parents raise us? It never seemed this hard when they did it. Were we this troublesome as children? Sure, they were tired and exhausted from work, but they always seemed to have unlimited energy and time for us—or did they?

During my regular call, I brought this up and asked my mum: how did they manage? Was it tough? Was it easy? Did they just make it look easier, or is it just me? The truth is—parenting is hard for everyone. Yes, even for our parents. But we only realize this once we become parents ourselves. So much sacrifice, patience, nurturing, and love went into raising us into who we are today—something we often took for granted.

My parents still worry when I’m sick. They still pray for my sister’s safety when she travels abroad. They still love us even when we say we’re too busy to talk. They still listen when we need them to be our therapists. After all these years of being a child to my parents and now a parent to my kids, I’ve realized that parenthood is a never-ending responsibility. No matter how old you are, you still need your parents. Your eyes still light up when you share your achievements, hoping to hear them say how proud they are of you.

Looking back now, I realize my parents weren’t superheroes—but they were something even more special. They, like many other parents, did their best, gave their all, and tried hard every single day to raise two children with love and care. Were they perfect at parenting? No. No parent is. We all make mistakes, and I’m sure they had their share too. They weren’t perfect—but they were unique. Their love was unique—meant just for us. They gave us an experience no one else could have. They poured their hearts into raising us, and that love, in all its imperfections, was ours alone.

With their superpowers, they gave us a beautiful childhood—one filled with laughter, sorrow, tears, joy, excitement, hope, love, and countless unforgettable memories. Could we have asked for anything better? I would argue—what could be better than our childhood?

Who knew that the rules we rolled our eyes at were actually life lessons in disguise? That the “you’re grounded!” moments were sneak previews of adult responsibility? That their dramatic sighs and raised eyebrows were just their way of saying, “We love you, but you need to chill”? Turns out, all the teenage drama—the curfews, the lectures, the “because I said so”—was actually them being our personal life coaches, prepping us for the wild ride called adulthood. Everything we groaned about back then was really them steering our slightly chaotic teenage selves toward a better, wiser path.

If you had asked my teenage self what I wanted to be, I would have told you a profession or career. Ask me now, and I’ll tell you—I strive to work as hard and sincerely as my father. I aspire to have the patience and perseverance of my mother. I’m inspired to be as content in life as they are.

I wish I could travel back 35 years and find that young couple—nervously stepping into marriage, unsure of what the future holds. I’d tell them it’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. Because one day, they’ll raise good human beings. I wish I could give those young parents a big bear hug and whisper, “You’re going to do just fine. It won’t always be easy, but it will be worth it—every single moment.” The same assurance and confidence they gave me when I stepped into my motherhood journey.

As kids, every time we got a perfect score or won a race, we ran to them just to hear how proud they were of us. For a change, I want to tell them—I am proud of my parents. I am proud of their accomplishments, their hard work, their values, their commitment, their honesty, their never-ending love for us, and their parenting.

Here’s to parenthood—
The wildest, messiest, most sleep-deprived adventure of all time.
Thank you for surviving the tantrums, the teenage drama, the questionable fashion choices, and our Olympic-level stubbornness when we insisted we were always right.
But most of all, thank you for giving us the best life we could have ever asked for—complete with love, laughter, and just the right amount of “because I said so.”

Lovingly,
Your twins