“Human life is everywhere a state in which much is to be endured, and little to be enjoyed” suggested Samuel Johnson, father of three 18th century children. And indeed parenting can be viewed as a slog from 2:00 am diaper changes through 9:00 pm, “can we go to the store to get a piece of poster board, for my science project due tomorrow that I haven’t actually started yet” pronouncements.
It could be argued that it is easier to change your attitude about your children’s needs than it is to change your children’s needs. But this week, I just want to offer the following interaction between a wonderful parent, and his seven-year-old even more wonderful daughter.
My friend’s Seven-Year-Old Daughter: excuse me sir, I don’t take orders from you.
Dad: that’s literally my job.
My friend’s Seven-Year-Old Daughter: well you don’t seem very qualified.
Having frequently written these past 14 years about the pitfalls, anxieties, and dangers of parenting, the column this week is about one of the joys.
And why wait around for the occasional articulate gem? Why not accept the majority of utterances from your beloved children as the gifts that they truly are?
So that’s your homework for this week. Instead of writing to me with questions, concerns, and problems–all of which I appreciate and take seriously–let me instead collect the vignettes. Give me your children’s most outrageous quotes, quirkiest stories, snarkiest replies. I’ll collect them and publish the results.
I know this idea isn’t new, but we seem to inhabit a generation in which the unmitigated joy of parenting has been subsumed by ubiquitous anxiety, concern about the future, worry over whether the children will be able to afford to buy a house.
While I have only good things to say about living indoors, it might be time to worry less about interest rates and focus instead on the delight of having kids.
No, your kids might not be admitted to Stanford, Duke, or Dartmouth. But yes, they will make you smile with just how intrinsically delightful they are.
If you let them.
Let’s focus less on enduring, more on enjoying. I look forward to hearing your stories–current or remembered–about your wonderful kids.
