"Why Parents Hate Parenting"

I read an article tonight entitled "All Joy and No Fun. Why Parents Hate Parenting." I was intrigued by the title (as a parent, how can you not want to know what's written inside) and also slightly relieved by its insinuation. There are really other people out there that hate parenting?

Don't squint your eyes just yet and contemplate flogging me. I'll get to my point eventually in this post.

Here's the thing. Do I love my children more than my own life/my own existence? Absolutely. Do I think my life would be incomplete without these little people running around me all day? No doubt about it. Do I look at them when they are sleeping and feel my heart breaking because I'm terrified of this big, bad world harming them? Every. Single. Day.

Do I love the job of parenting...the feeding, the wiping, the disciplining, the cleaning, the screaming, the calming, the dressing, the bathing, the night waking, the TEETHING, and the list goes on...well, I'd have to say nope, I don't love it so much. (GASP! Get your jaw off the floor!)

I love the way the article begins. A father is telling a story of how excited he was to see his son when he came home from work. His son was sitting on the doorstep waiting for him and when he saw his father, a moment of pure elation is shared between both of them. And then not even 5 seconds later, when Dad walks through the door, son is throwing a tantrum about a broken toy that Dad is not fixing fast enough and the whole ordeal ends in a timeout in the son's room. So much for that 5 second blissful welcome home.

I think every parent can relate to this. This story especially hit home with me because I've experienced it so many times that I literally have to say to myself multiple times a day, "What the heck just happened here? I was just filled with this moment of intense happiness and excitement when I saw you and your adorable smiling face, but now the walls are tumbling down around us and I want to scream and pull my hair out."

"As a rule, most studies show that mothers are less happy than fathers, that single parents are less happy still, that babies and toddlers are the hardest, and that each successive child produces diminishing returns." (Jaemie especially liked this quote too and wanted me to specifically point out the picture of the hairy guy on page 2. Enjoy.)

This is an astounding sentence. Why, in the world then, do most people choose to have children? Well, I would venture to say that most people don't know what the heck they are getting themselves into. That makes sense until you try and rationalize the decision that many people make to have ANOTHER child. Then one would have to think that most people are just plain crazy. Or delusional.

"Healthy relationships definitely make people happier. But children adversely affect relationships. As Thomas Bradbury, a father of two and professor of psychology at UCLA, likes to say: “Being in a good relationship is a risk factor for becoming a parent.”

So, you're telling me that parents are less happy than nonparents and kids negatively affect relationships. Fantastic.

"Most studies show that marriages improve once children enter latency, or the ages between 6 and 12, though they take another sharp dive during the war zone of adolescence."

Ahhh, so out of the first 18 years, we only get 6 good ones? That's a negative ROI folks.

The article takes a turn on page 5 and attempts to define "happiness." When happiness was defined as a matter of "mood" (feelings of stress, fatigue, worry, etc.) of course all parents seemed less happy. But when happiness was defined by feelings of "reward", the tides turned.

"Technically, if parenting makes you unhappy, you should feel better if you’re spared the task of doing it. But if happiness is measured by our own sense of agency and meaning, then noncustodial parents lose. They’re robbed of something that gives purpose and reward."

As I reflect on my own daily grind of the feeding, the wiping, the disciplining, the cleaning, the screaming, the calming, the dressing, the bathing, the night waking, the TEETHING (and the list goes on), I can only come to this conclusion: My happiness isn't defined by parenting. It is defined by being a parent.

"Loving one’s children and loving the act of parenting are not the same thing."

The fact that these 2 tiny people exist in this world because of the love that Mark and I share for them and for one another cannot be measured by the monotony of those daily tasks. It can only be measured by the way our hearts explode when Jacob says, unprompted, "Mommy/Daddy, I love you", or when Maddie squeals in laughter when you blow raspberries on her neck and reaches for you to hold her and comfort her when she bonks her head. You can quantify the dissatisfaction of changing a diaper. You can't quantify the feeling of purpose and reward of raising a strong, loving human being.

One of the reasons I enjoy writing this blog is to remind myself on a regular basis of why I'm here everyday, enduring this daily grind. It's a chance for me to reflect on events passed and, good or bad, jot them down as memories that I can cherish forever. And would I create cheesy, sentimental videos timed to corny, family songs if I weren't a happy parent?? I don't think so. I think instead, I'd be spending those hours catching up on bad TV and drinking alcohol. Oh wait, I still drink alcohol. But please don't judge. That's just a little extra incentive at the end of a long day of feeding, wiping, disciplining, cleaning, screaming, calming, dressing, bathing, night waking, and TEETHING.

And, as another reminder of why I'm even here blogging in the first place, I have neglected to post the pictures of my "mommy and me" session with my friend Kelly over at Inspired by You Photography. I can't think of a more timely moment to post them than now.