“It is exceptionally hard but people still do it. Other than hormones, there must be a reason people make the choice to become parents multiple times”
I had a very interesting, eye-opening conversation today with someone close to me – I’ll call her Claire because I know she’d like to have a blog name. I had posted an article on my Facebook page, by a writer who was addressing her friends who had children before her – apologising for not realising how tough it was for them at the time. My friend Claire was wondering why so many parenting articles focus on the negative aspects of child-rearing, and pointed out that for people like her who don’t have children, it makes the whole thing sound very unappealing. She said “I am really curious about the driver that motivates people to plough into a situation frequently described as the hardest thing you’ll ever do”
This really made me stop and think. Part of the reason I started blogging was because I couldn’t find any realistic articles written by normal people with normal jobs, about trying to balance work and home. I felt that there was a lot of sugar-coating; a lot of beautiful magazine and social media photos of families having a wonderful time, and not enough honesty about the fact that it can also be tough. And more to the point, that we are not all perfect parents – tiredness after a sleepless night is one thing (that even the most patient, dedicated parents can experience) but admitting to shouting at kids or finding it all overwhelming is a further step down the honesty path, and these articles can be harder to find.
Claire and I discussed some more, and I said that I didn’t think people wanted to read about how wonderful it is to have children – that it might be nauseating, smug, condescending or just plain boring. And that parents need a sense of knowing they’re not alone in finding it difficult. But on the other side, from her perspective, if all the articles she reads are negative, there’s a lack of balance there too.
So for Claire, and for anyone else who needs a break from the stories of sleepless nights and uneaten dinners and playtime squabbles, here’s something on the good stuff – a little bit on the happiness side:
I’ll start with the bold statement. Having children is far and away the most amazing, most fulfilling thing I’ve ever had the privilege to experience.
Sure, the early days were overwhelming. But for every moment of confused panic, because I needed a shower upstairs and the baby was asleep downstairs, there were a hundred moments of pure, indescribable, overwhelming love. Melty, shivery, hard-to-believe love. Staring. Just staring at her in my arms. Tracing her features while she slept. Marvelling at the way she crumpled into me, like a little beanbag, melting into every crevice. The trust. The vulnerability. The smell. The softness. The tiny, tiny toes. In awe of her little body every time I gave her a bath. Perfection. Miraculous, surreal, incomprehensible perfection.
And then there were two. And although I’ve written here about how challenging I found adapting to two, and although the first weeks and months were stressful, they were also wonderful. I remember all the worries I had built up, about how I could equally love a second child, being washed away as soon as I met her. I remember folding away the tiny baby clothes that she grew out of so quickly; putting them safely aside, knowing already that I wanted a third child – understanding finally that it is possible to love every child that comes, no matter how complete the family unit feels before-hand. I remember sunshine and sitting in the garden and going to the park, and coffee and cake and chats. I remember long, bright evenings. I remember sitting down to watch The Wire with a glass of white wine on Sunday nights, and feeling so very happy that Monday would bring more hanging-out-with-baby-time instead of work-time. I remember getting to know this new little person as she grew – so utterly different to her big sister but every bit as charming. Unputdownable.
Then came the boy. And we all became obsessed with him overnight. And two-and-a-half years later, we’re still obsessed. I want to pick him up and eat him. I can’t be near him without touching him. I’m addicted. He’s my fuel. He drains my energy but he’s also its source. Nothing that happens in my everyday life, no matter how good, has power equal to a hug from this boy.
And these three little people, completely dependent on me, are the reason for my early mornings, my empty bank account, my crayoned floors, my cluttered house, my working-mother-wistfulness and my questionable social life.
But they’re also the cue for most of my smiles and the cause of most of my laughs and the prompt for most of my hugs. They’re the reason for exchanged glances with my husband and barely restrained laughter. They’re why we end every night by kissing them as they sleep, agreeing as we close the bedroom doors “They’re not so bad those guys, are they.”
And yes it’s busy, and whether I’m watching TV while they’re in bed, or I’m at work, or I’m out at night, they are always my responsibility; switching off – fully off – is not an option. But there are upsides too – somehow, the small everyday frustrations that annoyed me so much before I had kids, just wash over me now – they’re not as important as they once were – particularly the work stuff.
And conversely, the small enjoyments – a glass of wine and the next episode of Orange Is The New Black, taste better than they ever did. Possibly because the window for switching off is now smaller than before. And that’s fine, because the daily toil is far out-weighed by the good stuff. And just like anything that’s fulfilling – whether it’s having a dream job, or running a race, or hosting a dinner party or writing a novel; having children is hard-work, but it’s also worth every squabble, every spill, every second.
32 thoughts on “Kids and happiness do mix”
Reading this on my train commute to work and these beautiful words are bringing a lump to my throat.
Aww, in a good way I hope Johanne! Thank you for reading and for commenting – much appreciated 🙂
Wonderful post. I agree with every bit of it xxx
Sadhbh @ Where Wishes come From recently posted…The Best Money I Never Spent
This is a wonderful,uplifting post, just what I needed today! Thank you 🙂
Glad you liked it Aisling and that the timing was good!
Nice tribute to parenting.
MO’D recently posted…Suggestion Box
Thank you MO’D
PS I enjoyed discovering your blog
Aww that’s beautiful: I want to print it off for my daughter to show her every time she looks at me and says she doesn’t want to have kids!
looking for Blue Sky recently posted…How to choose a mobile phone
Thanks a million ! Go on – pin it on the fridge, I’d love to have something pinned on a fridge 🙂
Couldn’t agree more and could never have expressed it so well….tears tripping down my face as I read. Thank you for writing this xx
Ah thanks Elizabeth – glad you liked it
Lovely post. As I am looking at the “I’m a parent of young children” train rapidly moving away I am so very conscious of all the many many happy, glorious days I spent with my gang and the little extras who I minded.
It is with a heavy heart I will say goodbye to it.
It is definitely a mix though of amazing and dreadful. As in most things in life we tend to speak regularly about the dreadful.
tric recently posted…Judgement Day.
It’s true – we do speak more about the tough parts. It’s human nature isn’t it – true of everything else in life too, not just kids.
Lovely, lovely post. And yes, we jut hurl ourselves back into the fray even after we find out exactly how damn hard it is because we just don’t care then. We’re in it for the long haul. I couldn’t be told either what it is like. I don’t think any of us can until we’re “there.”
Wonderful Wagon recently posted…Rhubarb Ted
Thanks Gwen – you’re right, once you’re in, you’re in. Whether it’s one kid or five, there’s no going back!
Beautifully written. Just lovely. And now, having read this before knitting, I’ve no wine to hand but I do have tea and cakes and my smallest man asleep here beside me! X
Helen recently posted…Once Upon a Time: Tales of parenting moments gone by (Linky)
Thanks Helen, and tea and cakes are ALMOST as good as wine!
Such a lovely post. It has made me reflect in today, a really shit day,where I had to leave a screaming 1 year old in the living room and walk away for a minute, to gather myself. The good days most certainly outway the bad, I think we become so overwhelmed by the bad days,we forget how really great the good days are x
I think the fact that you knew to walk away and gather yourself is really positive – I have often stayed and shouted when I should have walked away. So it was a good day really 🙂
Beautiful post. Yes, it is refreshing to read the good side of parenting and nod and agree to everything you’ve said.
laura | dairyfreekids recently posted…An Interview with Alyssa, mother of a boy with multiple allergies
thank you Laura 🙂
Wonderful ,warm ,uplifting post. Puts it all in perspective. Love it.
thank you Ciara
Biological imperative. That’s all I’ve got. And the constant triumph of optimism over realism: people assume that *their* kids will be different. Or that their next kid will.
But this was a really lovely list. 🙂
Maud recently posted…Era’s end
But wait….my kids are different…I’m sure of it – aren’t they?? 🙂
Love this article! So so true!
I think you managed to beautifully put into words what all parents are feeling, yes it can be hard but we wouldn’t trade it for the world. Fantastic post thanks!
Naomi Lavelle recently posted…We have finally named the new chicks….
thanks a million Naomi!
Fabulous article! Love love love it!!
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