OPEN MIC: with Claire Hooper

It’s where our best, brightest and funniest have their say.

In 2019 my kid started school, but I learned more lessons than she did.

I’d heard prep was a big adjustment – that she would be tired and overwhelmed, learning new skills and making new friends – so we needed to cancel all extracurricular activities and take things gently. The advice was for her but it could’ve been for me too.

So I cancelled the kid’s ballet classes, and in a wildly out-of-character move, I declined a big work project that would have stretched over most of Term One. The idea of turning down work has always terrified me. If I’m honest, it’s probably less about the lost pay cheque and more the fear that I might enjoy the time off too much. I mean, how do I know who I am if I’m not constantly working?

Turns out my kid didn’t miss ballet one bit. Not once did she ask about it. And every day of Term One I felt a sense of delighted relief that I got to walk home from school with her and not race straight off to perform every night.

The warnings about fatigue were spot on. In the first few weeks my daughter would fall asleep during dinner. Her little five-year-old brain was working so hard. As I tucked her into bed I explained it was good to rest – her brain got to recharge and her body got to fix all its scratches and bumps while she was switched off overnight. It was such a reasonable point to make – that rest when she was tired would make her feel better – that after a few weeks it occurred to me that it might make me feel better too. There was probably a connection between a busy work schedule and the headaches and backaches I’d been arguing with for years. So I began resting too, and I started feeling better.

It was lucky I had time and sleep on my side, because prep students are expected to begin learning how to read and it’s hard work. Hard for the child because, what on earth do those letters mean? And hard for the parents and carers because, when they don’t know what the letters mean, kids take a lot of convincing to keep trying. Of course they do – doing things you’re bad at is no fun at all.

We struggled through the frustration of learning to read together. Eventually we moved onto harder books, and over and over we saw the rewards of sitting in that uncomfortable spot until you broke through. We don’t do that much, as adults, but it’s good for us. I started doing yoga again, after a long break, and let myself enjoy the feeling of being the worst in the class. As I got better,

I enjoyed the knowledge I’d probably never be the best.

The one thing I was certain of at the start of 2019 was I didn’t need any new friends. I would be friendly to other parents at drop-off but just because we have kids the same age doesn’t mean we’re kindred spirits, right? I desperately wanted buddies for my daughter, though. How terrifying it must be to be thrown into a room full of strangers. Hopefully, I thought, in a week or so she’d start making friends and then maybe in a month she’d have a tight friend or two ...

Well, my kid made a best friend on day one. And I made one on day two, when that kid’s mother said, “My kid likes your kid,” and I loved her immediately. So I also learned that you can never have ‘enough friends’.

I learned a lot in a year – definitely more than my kid.

It’s typical of a comedian to make it all about themselves but here I go: I learned that it’s okay to work less, rest more, do things I’m not good at yet and open my life to new people. And I learned my job isn’t as important as I thought it was. In term three, my daughter’s class had a Careers Week. Dutifully I went along to explain what it was that kept me up at night and on and off flights and busy – so very, very important and busy.

“Why do you do your job?” one child asked and I said, “That’s a good question!” Mostly as a joke but also because, in the moment, I didn’t have an answer – especially for the little one in the middle of the class who looked just like me.

I distracted them by showing them a monkey costume I wore in a circus show, and teaching them some knockknock jokes. But why do I do my job? I do it because I still love comedy. A joke feels like a magic trick and I get paid to do them. I’m so lucky to have a job that I find fun.

I’m also lucky to have a new perspective on how much more fun it all is when you get the balance right. And I’m lucky to have a five year old, who looks just like me, to teach me how to look after us both.