First of all, I just want to thank everyone who’s commented on my post about my Dad’s sudden death last week. I’ll have more, I’m sure much more, to say about it sometime later, but for now, I’m just trying to muddle along.
Several people have alerted me to a NY Magazine article this week entitled “Why Parents Hate Parenting”, which is about whether or not parents are happy (and why). I really don’t have the brain power to analyze the article at length this week, but since it’s so on topic with what we talk about here, I at least wanted to mention it. So I’m going to pull a few of the quotes I found most intriguing:
“A few generations ago, people weren’t stopping to contemplate whether having a child would make them happy. Having children was simply what you did. And we are lucky, today, to have choices about these matters. But the abundance of choices—whether to have kids, when, how many—may be one of the reasons parents are less happy.”
Interesting, and something I’ve thought about quite a lot myself. While I personally value having choices (It’s the American way, right?) I also think that at some point choices make us more frustrated than happy. If we have what seem to be unlimited options, can we ever be really sure we’ve chosen the right ones?
“Even more surprisingly, they found that parents’ dissatisfaction only grew the more money they had, even though they had the purchasing power to buy more child care. “And my hypothesis about why this is, in both cases, is the same,” says Twenge. “They become parents later in life. There’s a loss of freedom, a loss of autonomy. It’s totally different from going from your parents’ house to immediately having a baby. Now you know what you’re giving up.”
Yup. Those of you who’ve read my essay in defense of young motherhood know this is pretty much exactly my hypothesis.
“Of course, this should not be a surprise. If you are no longer fretting about spending too little time with your children after they’re born (because you have a year of paid maternity leave), if you’re no longer anxious about finding affordable child care once you go back to work (because the state subsidizes it), if you’re no longer wondering how to pay for your children’s education and health care (because they’re free)—well, it stands to reason that your own mental health would improve.”
Yes, yes, yes, and this has become one of those things that seems so obvious by now that you really wonder why anyone would argue that paid maternity leave is not a major mental health issue. It’s not about removing women from the workforce (I’m not sure I’d want to take an entire year off from my work, myself) but removing the economic pressures that go along with making a reasonable transition back to work during a time that your hormones are all out of whack and your baby is at her neediest.
“Children may provide unrivaled moments of joy. But they also provide unrivaled moments of frustration, tedium, anxiety, heartbreak….Loving one’s children and loving the act of parenting are not the same thing.”
Very true. It’s like writing. I love being a writer. I love having written. And sometimes, in moments of flow and creativity, I love writing, too. But just as much of the time, the act of writing is frustrating, tedious…and occasionally heartbreaking. Does that mean I’d be happier if I weren’t a writer? Of course not. Like anything worth doing, writing has its way, way ups, and its way, way downs. You know…like motherhood.
“Seven years ago, the sociologists Kei Nomaguchi and Melissa A. Milkie…found that, yes, those couples who became parents did more housework and felt less in control and quarreled more (actually, only the women thought they quarreled more, but anyway). On the other hand, the married women were less depressed after they’d had kids than their childless peers. And perhaps this is because the study sought to understand not just the moment-to-moment moods of its participants, but more existential matters, like how connected they felt, and how motivated, and how much despair they were in (as opposed to how much stress they were under)” (emphasis mine).
Studies of happiness are inexact, to say the least. I’ve said before that I don’t think you can measure overall happiness by judging your satisfaction levels while doing the dishes or changing a diaper. Those may be the tasks related to parenthood, but they aren’t parenthood itself.
What do you think of the article? Are parents who say they’re happy just kidding themselves? Or is there a deeper, less-quantifiable kind of happiness that comes from having kids…even in spite of all the work, drudgery, and tedium? (You know what I think, right?)
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{ 12 comments… read them below or add one }
Meaghan, I hadn’t heard about your dad. Let me extend my heartfelt sympathy to you. I am so sorry for your loss.
I rarely think of the word “happy” in relationship to parenting – not because I’m not happy being a mom, but because I didn’t become a mom to be happy. It just wasn’t something that occurred to me.
I was a difficult child to raise, and my parents made it clear that they loved me with all their hearts but I don’t think I made them “happy” until I was older and had become a normal human being. They did talk about the moments of joy they experienced as parents but that was in the context of momentary emotion, not something that they felt all the time.
It’s possible that their grandchildren make them happier than we ever did – which is fine
Lori, you’ve hit the nail on the head as far as I’m concerned. We don’t become parents in order to MAKE us happy (that’s way too big a burden to put on our children, I believe), but that doesn’t mean we can’t be happy AS parents.
That’s a good way to put it. I don’t rely too much on my feelings – as a homeschooling mom with an online business, I have a lot to do no matter how I “feel” about it.
But if I had to choose a default emotional state, it would be contentment. And my children definitely contribute to that.
I think that there is a happiness and satisfaction that comes from having children that can’t be quantified. It’s why I want more even when I’m pulling my hair out. And why, I suspect, I always will.
As a Canadian who’s taken 2 year-long paid leaves, I can also say that I think they made a huge difference. Before I took the leaves, they sounded impossibly long. Once I took them, they felt not long enough. I surprised myself with how much I enjoyed them, and how passionately I feel about the importance of paid maternity leave. And long-term paid leave, at that.
As far as my husband is concerned, we only became parents so that we could one day experience the joy of being grandparents.
I jest!
Sort of).
Also, I’m outrageously happy to see you note “But just as much of the time, the act of writing is frustrating, tedious…and occasionally heartbreaking.” Because I imagine you as someone who simply sits at her computer and types out thoughtful essays, blog posts, even blog comments that are mini-essays. Thanks for the reality check.
meagan, i am so sorry to hear about your dad. our deepest condolences.
re: the article, i thought they missed the boat by saying you only *think* about the over-arching “my children give me joy” every once in awhile whereas you are mired in the less fun chore part every day (daniel gilbert’s msg).
it was my experience – and i imagine this is universal – that as soon as my first son was born, i realized i would never again (as long as he was healthy) have a bad day. and of course i did have bad days – but they weren’t *as* bad. because my children inject purpose, meaning, contentment, and joy into every single day. no day that starts with a sleepy kid face and ends with a sleepy kid face can be that bad. as long as they *existed*, the rest of my life just didn’t bother me as much when it wasn’t going my way. my vision of my life (and myself) changed and things slid into their correct perspective.
now that they are older (and the oldest has hit his teens!), they still inject my entire life with meaning and purpose and joy. i would liken it to a boat in a lock, raised up by 300,000 gallons of water. same boat, just raised way up. i don’t just *think about* how they’ve improved my life “once in awhile” .. i think about it every day, when i look at their pictures on my desk, when i hear my younger son practicing piano, when i read my teen’s latest political rant online. the mundane chores of child-raising are there every day, but i would argue the joy is also there – and felt – every day.
A thoughtful response and analysis and very thoughtful comments, which, I think are in complete contrast with the snarkiness of the article. I think the story did make some interesting points (we all become those zombies with our significant others in front of the TV when the kids go to bed), but to put such generalizations and to try to “quantify” or “data-fy” parenting always annoys me. How are we ever going to have a significant study of such a subjective thing as being happy? Thanks for taking the time to comment on it with all that your going through. xxx
This is the bit that jumped out at me:
“Children may provide unrivaled moments of joy. But they also provide unrivaled moments of frustration, tedium, anxiety, heartbreak….Loving one’s children and loving the act of parenting are not the same thing.”
I love my children but I hate being a parent! I cannot wait until they turn into human beings. But then again – I’ve had PMS for the last 2 weeks and I’m a complete wreck. That’s the problem with happiness surveys and trying to work out what does or doesn’t make us happy – it depends what else is going on in your life. I’m sure that eventually everything will work out but whilst we’re stuck in the middle of it the daily act of parenting can often make life seem very difficult.
I’m so sorry for your loss Megan. Take care of yourself.
I just finally sat down to read the New York Magazine article and immediately wondered what you had to say about it. I love your analogy to writing and I’ve often thought the same thing myself. Writing is often a horrible and difficult, gut-wrenching chore exactly because I value it so much and care about doing a good job. Much like parenting.
I also feel like I don’t have much choice in the matter; it’s what I can do and what I’m driven to do. In the same way, motherhood doesn’t feel like it was a choice for me as much as an innate biological and psychological imperative.
Still, your blog helps to inspire me to feel more happiness every day and in the small things. Thank you for that. And my deepest condolences for the sudden loss of your father. My heart aches at the very thought.
Since I’ve been doing a lot more of it lately, I relate this to hiking/mountain climbing.
We are excited about it. It’s thrilling. It’s scary. We start, and we’re thinking, “I can do this.” But it gets hard fast. We are tired fast. But those views! And then OUCH, muscle cramp! Oooh, look at that beautiful aspen grove! GAH, it’s so freaking hot out…my skin is sizzling off my body. Ooooh, that’s the most beautiful stream bed I’ve ever seen. Gorgeous river rock, let me pick and keep one to remember. We take pictures. Halfway up and we get a glimpse of the hardest part to come, and we’re not sure we can go on. We want nothing more than to stop and rest or find a way back down. But oh how sweet that peak looks, and what incredible things we can see from up there. So we stand and push through. And the little, sweet things we take joy in give way to pride for the hills we have climbed and deep gorges we have traversed, all successfully, all without breaking us. Though there are scars and rough spots on us now. And when we finally get to the top, we forget, almost immediately, everything we have just been through and instead take in the accomplishment of it. The hard parts fade into vagueness and the fun parts pop out in high relief. We are victorious!
AND THEN WE CLIMB DOWN AND GO HAVE A BEER AND PUT ASPERCREME ALL OVER OUR BODIES.
I was a young mother; I had my son at 20 and my daughter at 23, and feel lucky to have been able to do it that way. I had the energy and freedom, if not the financial prowess, to flex under all those stressful and frustrating moments, and didn’t have to miss the joyous ones because I was trying to partner at a firm or run for office or otherwise meet the host of other demanding career obligations that find us in our 30s and 40s.
Now, at 40, I’ve got just one left at home (15), and while there’s always the bittersweetness of your kids growing up and out on their own, I admit I’m very much looking forward to (at a young, hoppy 45!) enjoying the traveling/trouble-making/freedom/pursuit of odd and selfish interests that many women my age will be waiting another 10, 15, even 20 years for
Megan,
So sorry to hear of your loss. I hope you’re feeling better.
xoxo
My condolences to you, Meagan, on losing your Dad.
I always find articles about parenting (or any other job/relationship for that matter) that make sweeping generalizations off the mark on some level. I know many people who love being mothers (myself included), as well as the domestic aspect, the nurturing, the constant care, the needs that only they can fill in their children. But to call these moms happy, and the rest unhappy, is unfair. I love my children, I love being a mother, but I despise drudgery. I am not a domestic, a planner or even a “kid” person. While I love spending time with my children, I miss time to myself and alone with my husband. Who of us doesn’t? The problem is that unlike other jobs, motherhood is all or nothing. Some enter into parenthood not knowing what they’re getting themselves into, and that can lead to a lot of frustration, but there’s no turning back. Someone once said, “having a baby is like getting a tattoo on your face: you’d better be darned sure it’s what you really want before you do it.” I would think it is the women who know themselves best–and what makes them happy–before having children who are the happiest moms.
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