Mosh Pit Parenting

Making great socks is one of the many hats I wear. Being (or trying to be) a good parent is another. Preparing my teenager for what life is going to throw her way, the good the bad and the ugly of life, pretty much tops the list at the moment. The parenting roll constantly changes, when your kid’s little it’s pretty straight forward, but gosh, it gets murky with a teenager. It seems every other parent in the world is far more cool, liberal and easy going than me (or so I’m told by my little darling!).
With small children, as parents, we look forward to our offspring achieving expected milestones, first- tooth, word, day of school etc. In the teenage years we hold our breath and hope the “firsts” are a long time coming, every parent knows what exactly what I’m talking about!
Well, we have just had a first!
A few weeks ago my youngster met the mosh pit! I have to say I was ‘freaking out’ at the thought of my child disappearing in to the pulsating crowd at a huge day/night rock concert. The little petal had to listen to me run thru every scenario and solution known to man. Parents, you all know the drill. Blah, blah, blah. In one ear out the other. Lucky for us (and my nerves) my husband and I we’re both going to the same concert-not for the entirety but for the headline acts (vip passes, no less.) My teenager was horrified to learn that we would be there too. That is ‘so not cool’. Tough! Teenagers have got to learn that their parents have a life. Well, her plan was to ditch us asap and hook up again for a ride home. As we headed out the door I’m looking over my darling. “You can’t wear thongs to a concert; put real shoes and socks on! Get some more clothes on, it’ll get cold later!” I managed to get her in some runners and our woolly socks but NO WAY to taking something warm to put on later. Argh! She didn’t want to have to carry anything; I suppose that was fair enough. I didn’t want to carry anything superfluous either. I took with me, a couple of pairs of arm/leg warmers we make and wool head warmer in my bag, just in case I got cold later. So off we went, we were duly ditched when she’d found some friends, and not to be seen ‘til the concert finished. We had a great time in the vip area, by the time I’d had my allowable 2 drinks for the evening (I was going to driving home) it was just getting dark and the night was still young, so I pulled an executive decision-leave the car, taxi home and have a couple more drinks (not to excess but perhaps more than allowed). My husband and I had a ball, caught up with friends, and enjoyed some great music. Most of the bands we had never heard of, it didn’t matter (I’ve heard of then now), by late in the evening we were rocking with 6000 others in the midst of the mosh pit. Of course it was hot and sweaty in the seething sea of bodies, but it was a freezing cold night, pretty typical of Tasmania in the autumn. Thank god for my arm/leg warmers, they were on and off all night. And Yay! I wasn’t the only one wearing our arm/leg warmers, time and time again I saw people wearing them. They’re pretty easy to spot. It’s a great feeling to see other people enjoying some thing you take pride in making. At the end of the night when we met up with the little petal, the look on her face was priceless; when she found out we’d had a wonderful time and were grabbing a taxi home. Mortified! She took the high ground. Why did I have to have a few extra drinks? What about the car? What if any of her friends saw us, you’re too old to be in the mosh pit! How embarrassing! She was stunned that we’d had a ball. I think she had expected us to be bored and outraged at some the crowd/and performers antics. NOT! I did explain how responsible I was being, making the decision to enjoy the night and not just waiting it out until she was ready to go. I think it’s great to shock your kids. Keep them guessing, I say. Be unpredictable!
On the way home chatting about the night, she was moaning because her feet (the shoes now filthy), were stood on a million times in the pit. She didn’t actually say thanks for making me wear shoes and socks, but I know she appreciated having them on. Sometimes mum does know best. That’s one “first” down, I’m happy to patiently wait for the next.