Every parent is leading a double life—including me.
Parenting my 2-year-old daughter, I’m the one who has to keep it together or it all gets a little tricky. That’s why I make it look like I’m calm, collected, and in control. But beneath the surface, there’s a lot more going on.
I’m juggling complex mental operations, high-stakes negotiations, and well-timed distraction tactics—all before breakfast.
By day, I’m a nurturing caregiver; by night (or at least naptime), I’m an undercover operative, making sure the whole operation doesn’t implode.
The bedtime routine
The clock is ticking. The mission is simple: hit the perfect bedtime window, without her feeling rushed. It’s a pressure-sensitive situation. Any sign of urgency could trigger resistance.
This is where the parent’s trusty Bond-watch comes in: the bedtime routine. It’s a precisely timed operation designed to feel effortless, using the predictable rhythm of routine as covert conditioning. On the outside, I’m warm and relaxed, but on the inside, I’m tracking the perfect sleep window like a seasoned spy slipping past a maze of lasers.
Precision parenting
Parenting requires me to constantly play multiple roles at once—being present and patient while also staying sharp and strategic. Balancing empathy with precision and making it all look effortless, while my daughter has no idea how much goes on under the radar.
She is currently discovering the power of the word ‘no,’ and although I love seeing her explore her autonomy, experiment, and grow, it does provide me with some ‘healthy’ challenges, but luckily only every few minutes.
Instead of asking, ‘Are you ready for bed?’—a tactical error and rookie mistake—a well-trained parent like me employs a signature move from the secret agent’s handbook: strategic misdirection. Asking, ‘Would you like to bring ‘Big Bunny’ or ‘Monkey’ to bed tonight?’ has her focusing on picking between them, conveniently forgetting that not going to bed isn’t actually an option.
She feels in control; I stay on track. Mission accomplished.
Secret identities
Parenting isn’t one-dimensional.
Of course I strive to be the ever-present, loving, and nurturing parent, don’t all parents? I absolutely aim to be like that every minute of every day with my daughter.
But it’s too easy to forget (or even dislike) my just as valuable, calculating, strategic, and covert counterparts that keep everything running behind the scenes.
While the ideal of being a constantly warm and all-giving parent is something to aspire to, in reality, parenting is a covert operation blending emotional intelligence, strategic misdirection, and a little bit of deception (yes, ‘accidentally’ misplacing that overly noisy toy is allowed).
Handle with care
In those moments when my daughter faces natural emotional responses—like refusing to wear her coat or hat when it’s freezing outside—staying with her emotionally, validating her experience, while also gently nudging her toward reality is a delicate operation.
Without calling on every part of myself, the day can quickly descend into chaos. Bedtime becomes a battleground, routines fall apart, and ‘just one more time’ turns into 20 minutes of negotiating. Mission compromised.
Parenting demands a full range of skills—the empathy to connect, the strategy to navigate, and the stealth to know when to step in or step back.
When I embrace the many roles it requires, things (mostly) fall into place. Bedtime negotiations feel less like standoffs, and—like any good agent—I stay adaptable in the face of ever-changing conditions.
I can be warm and present, all while staying three steps ahead.
With bedtime secured, I step out of the room and exhale—target neutralized. For now. A brief moment to catch my breath before the next briefing begins. ‘Do I hear something?’ Because in parenting, there's always another mission.
Parenting takes all of me. No part left behind. Tuxedo optional.
Tuxedo well deserved if you ask me. You'll be needing it to accept your Oscar! Rik, this was relatable, relevant and hilarious from beginning to end. Sending you all support from the outside. Q