Kids and happiness

Parenting, happiness, political and social structures put in place (or not) to better address the parents' (work-life, or even just self-realization) needs: man, these articles really hit close to home.

Here's the original New York Magazine feature: All Joy and no Fun. Why parents hate parenting. And here's a very interesting response: Yes, kids make us happier.

It's no secret that about every study on the topic concludes that having children does not make parents happier, and often makes them less so. I've read about it time and time again, and even tend to agree. What? I'm not defending having children more strongly??? Well, being a mom is the most important role I'll ever have. It's fantastic, and rewarding, and when considered as a whole, definitely has brought me more joy and yes, happiness than I ever thought possible. But yeah, I'm not sure it's made my life easier day-to-day (OK, I'm sure it hasn't). It's just a worthless observation, but my husband has a 96 year-old great-aunt who still lived on her own with minimal assistance up until a few months ago. And you know what I always thought? The fact that she never had children probably played a role in her making it that far. I don't know. She led a simple, quiet life, pretty much on her own. Never had to worry or to stress about much. Never had to give up much. Perhaps it's a bit of a dull life, perhaps there was a longing for a family that was never met (maybe not, what do I know), but she was also probably quite serene, in a way that happiness studies can tangibly measure.

I don't want to paint a grim picture of parenthood: I think it's worth it a thousand times and would do it again in a heartbeat! I don't want to be really whiny about how eff hard I think it is -my philosophy has always been more to just get with the program. You're tired? Have more caffeine. Not much time for yourself? Get up earlier. Stumbling across a problem? Get informed, get help, perhaps vent a little, but then tackle it, whatever it is. I always try to remind myself that a lot of people have it much harder than I do, and it usually works wonders.

But. There's definitely a repetitive, unrewarding, tough side to parenting. In my case, there's the day-to-day domestic grind that's always weighing me down, there's the constant and elusive strive for balance, there are the others aspects I don't want to neglect (marriage, work, friendship, creativity, downtime...) that sometimes feel like I'm pulled in a hundred different directions.

Case-in-point: coming back home after the day at our house, these days (maybe a little dramatized, but sometimes fairly realistic):

Talk with LP about his day while starting on dinner. The spinach I wanted to use is spoiled what to make what to make mhh frozen peas I guess. Call M, who's mowing the lawn, to start the BBQ. Call 4 times before he hears. Try to prevent LP from going outside. Call M to make sure he's watching LP, since of course he escaped outside. Run to prepare his and my outfit for the next day. Plug the iron, then remember the water must be boiling now. Run back to kitchen then suddenly remember I need to prepare LP a new towel and bathing suit for daycare the next day. Remember the towels aren't washed. Run downstairs to start a load. Come back to kitchen, handle a mini-tantrum when I tell a hungry LP that no, he can't have ice cream before dinner. Doorbell rings. Little neighbors are coming to fetch him, and off he goes. Run back to iron my shirt for the next day. Open mail, potentially bad news from government about company taxes, I'm too frazzled to understand right now, put it aside for later. Call M, who's now taking care of the pool, to handle the grilling. Start to assemble lunches. Frantically search for extra water bottle LP needs for the next day, but cannot locate it. Ponder what to thaw for tomorrow, mhh, chicken breasts sounds good. Realize we're out of milk. And bread. Remember I have a presentation at work the next morning, have to think about that. LP comes back crying. He was having so much fun he didn't want to come back to use the bathroom, and now he's had an accident. Peas and noodles are probably overcooked at this point. Undress him, put him in the bath (at least that will be done), call M to come and take all of his clothes, including his shoes, to the laundry room where he can't put them directly into the washer so he asks me where he should put them and I shout back I don't know, the sink? But the sink is already full with my underwear. So I tell him to come back up and dump them in a plastic bag or something. Give a still crying, still hungry LP a quick bath, then put him into his PJs. M tells me we have to take care of some bills tonight, the city and school district taxes I think. Phone rings. Come back to kitchen, salvage dinner. Try to be gentle with LP who really wants something to eat now, but won't have fruit and I won't give him anything else because this is ridiculous, we're just about to have dinner now. Remember I also have some emails to send about various things. Eat. Have lovely family moment with LP who's now being adorable and quite funny. Take care of laundry. Pick up toys and clutter. Water plants. Tell LP that no, he can't throw golf balls down the stairs, where did he get that idea? Negotiate 15 minutes of TV with him, who chooses to watch Top Gear with his dad, both lovingly nestled on the couch. Find water bottle and put it by the door so we won't forget it the next morning, then come back up and get a post-it to stick on it, saying: BATHING SUIT AND TOWEL! Finish lunches, then dump them in the downstairs fridge. Play dominos with kiddo a little. Phone rings again, can't pick up on time. Brush teeth, handle mini-tantrum because LP wanted to open the toothpaste tube himself and I didn't let him. Cuddle, laugh, story, bed. Go through ten or so minutes of him calling us, getting up, then he's finally asleep. Take care of everything else while M does the dishes and cleans the kitchen. Blog a little. Go to bed with a magazine, smile when I feel the baby start kicking -all of this time I had not thought about the fact that I was pregnant for a second. Drift into a coma almost immediately.

Coming back home after the day, pre-kids (maybe a little idealized at this point, but still fairly realistic):

Read the paper. Watch the news. Decide on what we'll eat at 7, then leisurely make it. Eat. Work out. Maybe go out to run a quick errand. If it's still nice out, perhaps have a quick dip in the pool.
Watch TV or read in bed.


I guess the main thing are the up and downs. As it is beautifully articulated in the second article, I don't think that parenting deprives you of joy and happiness, quite the contrary. It's more that I think it can make you quickly, and strongly, and dizzyingly navigate from wholehearted love and bliss to extreme unpleasantness, embarrassment, disappointment, frustration, and the like. But you know what? If one has to come with the other, I'll still take it any day.