Parenting Children vs. Parenting Adults (A.K.A., the Grind vs. the Rewards)
There are a few things in life I don’t enjoy doing, but do anyways. Running. Waking up early for work. Working. Wearing pants with a defined waistband. Eating salads. Cleaning litterboxes. Cleaning the human litterbox known as the toilet. Writing. There are things I’d rather be doing instead. Eating a pan of brownies with a fork for breakfast. Calling in sick and watching re-runs of The Richard Simmons Show on hulu. Hitting every TJ Maxx in a twenty-mile radius instead of the treadmill. But I suffer through the first group of things and (usually) deny myself the latter because I like the final product of who I am and what my life consists of. My jeans fit (sometimes). My bank account is healthy-ish. I feel, at the end of the day, like a semi-productive member of society. And the list of things I don’t like doing to get there doesn’t seem all that unreasonable.
But if I became a Mom, that list of things I don’t like doing would expand exponentially. Talking baby talk or listening to other people do it. Doing farm animal noises while reading night-night stories. Listening to the Fisher-Price popcorn vacuum run across my floor (Oh, the irony of it not actually cleaning anything!). Watching failed adult actors dressed as forest creatures singing songs about numbers. Attending anything even remotely resembling a sporting event without being allowed to read a book. Chatting with other parents about how their child was a totally believable cornucopia in the Thanksgiving play. Hearing a blood-curdling scream in the grocery store over a package of Twizzlers and then realizing it was my own child. Helping with math homework and being forced to admit that I don’t remember how to do long division.
This list could truly go on forever, and one of these days I promise I’ll devote an entire post to it. But if I’m honest with myself, the list of things I WOULD enjoy about being a Mom to young kids can probably be counted on one hand. When I read other bloggers’ lists of reasons that having a baby is awesome, there’s typically not one item I would be able to cull and claim as my own. They cite things like “baby kicks” or “teeny, tiny baby toes!” – things that make me shake my head and say, I could never hang out with this person. My paltry catalogue would consist of things like buying tiny leather bomber jackets at Baby Gap, having a reasonable excuse to watch The Lion King for the fortieth time, and never having to attend a clubby New Year’s Eve party again.
But here’s the kicker: these two lists almost entirely invert if I look at what life would be like once the kids turn 18. I would love strong-arming them into going to my alma mater and then embarrassing them by being the drunk mom at the tailgate. Visiting campus and becoming the beloved dorm parent by taking all their friends out to dinner, à la the Olive Garden commercials. Sticking my nose into their love life. Helping them pick a career path that ideally wouldn’t consist of acting in the aforementioned children’s shows. Sending them care packages of all the baked goods Drew and I can’t eat anymore because our metabolisms will have expired. Helping them pick an apartment after college and start a life. Spending an ungodly sum of money on their wedding and thinking that entitled me to choose their first dance song (Meatloaf, Paradise by the Dashboard Light). Having them home for the holidays and forcing them to stay up till all hours until I win at least one game of rummy. Giving them dog-eared versions of my favorite old novels. Eventually becoming a grandparent and purchasing the little ones’ love with contraband bowls of Fruity Pebbles.
In contrast, being a Childfree person in my fifties would probably look an awful lot like my life right now. Which I happen to like! But by then I’ll likely have eaten at every posh restaurant in town and crossed off a majority of my bucket list. I might even be sick of rattling around in the same old big house I purchased with all that extra cash. The bloom of the Childfree life might be off the rose, so to speak.
So here’s the question: Is spending a couple of decades grinding it doing parenting activities I won’t love worth it if it gives me the life I want in the post-55 years? Assuming I could suck it up and do a good job of parenting, does it make me a terrible person to admit that there’s not a whole lot I’m looking forward to in their pre-18 years?
28 Responses to Parenting Children vs. Parenting Adults (A.K.A., the Grind vs. the Rewards)
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Thanks for this post!! I tell people all the time I’d love to have adult children, I just have no desire to raise them. Unfortunately, my desire for adult children doesn’t come close to overruling my aversion to raising kids. So childfree I remain. I wouldn’t mind adopting a 13 year old (crazy? probably!), but sadly, the state of the foster care system means that adopting a child at 13 would probably not be the experience I’d want it to be. I really do okay with kids past 12. It’s the 0-12 that I can’t handle.
I’ve had the exact same thoughts and even went so far as talking to a friend of mine who’s a foster care director about it. But I think it would be a little like finding a needle in a haystack to find a kid in the system at that age that would be able to successfully integrate into a family. Maybe things’ll be different in 10 years though!
Can’t say it wouldn’t be like a needle in a hay-stack…but have you ever seen the Blind Side? If it can work in the movies, it can work in real life, right? (Also, just remembered that movie is based on real life. Cool.)
Although we’re pretty serious about fostering (maybe to adopt) younger kids in the foster system, we’ve also been thinking about the older teens, perhaps for later in our lives. When they’re so much older, you can have a much better idea of who they are as a person, whether they’ve got addictions or disorders. Obviously it could still be a struggle to find a match…but most good things are hard to find, right?
Very true, very true! I hope you find that needle.
I’m with you on this too. I have a very strong desire to mentor, but am well aware of the fact that having children doesn’t always provide this opportunity. (Disabled/unhealthy child, child not interested in your interests, majority of time spent on needs, lack of energy from handling those daily needs…) I’ve also thought of fostering, but I really feel like my desires would be met much better through mentoring programs because they are specific. I.e. teaching knitting or rock climbing or running to kids who signed up to do it because it interested them.
I also show interest in my friends’ kids’ lives and niece and nephew. There’s opportunity there for mentoring as well. Lots of my friends’ kids are pre-teen and they’re great, but absolutely exhausting. Honestly, they’re almost worse than babies for 24/7 care!
Another great way is by working at a school. I’m now working with students at a university and it’s pretty damn rewarding – and it’s the age group I like!
Doesn’t sound terrible to me. I like kids from birth to age sixish, then I don’t really want to deal with them until college. I know exactly what you mean.
And that bucket list? I doubt you’ll cross most of it off. I seem to add 1-2 more things for everything I cross off!
It’s funny that everyone has their age group that they can tolerate – I like babies, but can’t deal with them when the start talking and my husband is the exact opposite!
Thank you so much for your blog. I have been reading it for a while now and this is my first time commenting. I share 99% of your views and its so nice to know there are others out there like me! I go back and forth on this subject daily so reading about your ups and downs brings comfort. For now I am content waiting a little longer before we make the final decision…all I know right now is that our life alone is good and we are happy. Besides, could I really love a baby more then I love my cats? : )
The answer is no! Just kidding. I think. Thanks for commenting Jooles, I’m glad my mental instability has brought you comfort.
This post 100% reflects my feelings. Can we just adopt nearly adult children and enjoy them then??
There truly has got to be an agency that specializes in matching up displaced adult children with older Childfree couples. If there’s not, I’m starting one!
Have you read this: http://therumpus.net/2011/04/dear-sugar-the-rumpus-advice-column-71-the-ghost-ship-that-didnt-carry-us/ ?
If not, dig in!
Wow, that was an AMAZING article. Lots of things resonated in there for me, but particularly, “Have the most meaningful things in your life come to you as a result of ease or struggle?” Thanks for sharing, that’ll be rattling around in my head for a while.
don’t over-glamorize post-18
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/11/28/booming/when-theyre-grown-the-real-pain-begins.html?_r=1&
Haha – I love the quote from the old woman in there, “When they’re little they sit on your lap; when they’re big they sit on your heart.” Priceless.
I feel the exact same way. That’s why the hubs and I are fence sitters too.
Welcome to the fence, friend! It’s uncomfortable sitting here, isn’t it?
Some of those things you wouldnt like, you dont ACTUALLY have to do.
I, too, hate baby talk. Gah! I hope to never catch myself talking to my baby using “gaagaa” noises – I much prefer talking to them in real english, although perhaps in a funny tone: “Are you laughing at me and my ugly face?” in a joking tone is far more entertaining when they then poke their tongue out at you.
Noisy toys? I suspect I will ban them. Thankfully, we have a VERY small house, so “dont have space” to keep such things. Oh dear.
As for reading a book at the kids sporting event? Its only the first couple of years that you have to do that I reckon. Once they are a bit older, you can often even get away with dropping them off, parking somewhere else, reading a book and waiting for them to come find you at the end of the game.
As for baby kicks? Yeah, kind of exciting. But really, really freakin wierd at the same time.
My big dread is nursery rhymes. In the car. For hours on end. Because I know we did that to my parents sometimes. I’m really hoping this little one decides they prefer Queen, or even Coldplay. Anything would be better than nursery rhyme CDs!
Well, you’ll just have to rock a little Bohemian Rhapsody in utero with the belly headphones! Seems totally controllable.
Well being pregnant means you get to wear pants without a defined waistband and are excused from kitty litterbox cleaning so that sounds like a win for you!
I was just talking with a friend of mine recently about these sorts of things – what do we like/not like about what we must do to parent our children, and how do these “chores” and preferences evolve as our kids get older? I know some parents who find great joy in preparing their kids lunches, helping them brush their teeth, and grocery shopping for more than just cereal, milk, and wine. And I know other parents who would place trips to the movies, a museum, or the park higher up on their list of enjoyable aspects of parenting. Everyone is different and there is no right way to feel about this.
I think what is important though, is recognizing that all these things that we do for our kids are ways that we get to know them, to connect, to establish a relationship with them. Watching Sesame Street, singing ABC’s, scrunching up your face to make your baby grin, sitting through your 100th AYSO game in the rain – these are all the ways that learn what makes your kid tick and establish yourself as their parent, the person who will be there for them no matter what.
It was really hard for me when my first kiddo was born to realize that all these hopes and dreams I had for her were pretty much irrelevant unless she wanted them for herself (maybe unless I am Tiger Mom, she’s pretty intense with the piano practice). I think this is absolutely the hardest part of parenting, for me at least. From the day your kid is born they are slowly moving farther and farther away from you. You have some control over how close or far they end up, emotionally and physically, but not much. Their personality and interests play a larger role. If you’re lucky their goals will overlap yours.
And I think this is why many older folks, and to some extent people whose children have left home, are so drawn to small children. It brings them back to a simpler time, when the hardest thing they had to do every day was sit with their kid in their lap singing annoying ABC songs along with Big Bird.
I was thinking about the whole what I would want for them vs. what they would want thing the other day with regards to college. Since I work for a university, my (hypothetical) kids could attend for free. But what if they didn’t want to attend that college, or my alma mater? The idea of working somewhere for 20 years in anticipation of them going there, and then finding out they have specific interests that don’t align with the school, would be a pretty big blow. And that’s actually just a small example of how little control you have over how they’ll turn out or the shape their life will take. Just something else to add to the list of things to consider!
oh that would be such a bummer. Certainly grounds for showing your kid’s significant other their naked baby bath pictures. Your co-workers must have stories to relate? How about these hypotheticals… what if your kid wanted to do good by your life’s work and went to your college even though it was a poor fit and didn’t do so well? What if he was a fabulous artist and you knew art school was the place for him. Could you swear under your breath and be happy for him? What if your daughter used her free tuition to pursue a career that you disagree with? Would everything be a waste?
Intertwined with these questions is the idea that parents can derive their happiness or reward either directly from their kids – i.e. I really want my kid to enjoy baseball games with me so I make him go to baseball games and if he doesn’t like baseball then wtf?; or indirectly from their kids – i.e. I am happy when my kid is happy and fulfilled, so if it’s baseball, fishing, ballet, whatever, then you figure out a way to make it work. The college thing is just a super-more expensive version of this.
I started out as the first type of parent, but now put myself solidly in the second category. It was a great relief honestly, took a lot of pressure off me to be a “perfect” parent.
Maybe another way to think about this, and the last question you pose in your post, is to consider this from a child’s perspective. Knowing that you aren’t super jazzed about much related to children, and that you have particular expectations for what your kids will enjoy with you once they are grown, would you want you for a mom?
An excellent question…and probably a great topic for a future post!
I think about this one a lot.
For me I am quite firmly on the “Meh” side of the fence…a big reason is probably that THE LAST THING ON EARTH MY BROTHER AND I WANT TO DO IS HANG WITH MY MOM.
Cruel, right? Sigh, I know. But…hubs isn’t falling over himself to rock out with his parents (even though, unlike me, he had a gorgeous, idyllic childhood raised in the countryside in England, and his parents are awesome.)
My Mother despairs over the fact that we would rather do almost anything else then spend the day with her. (Even though we DO step up to the plate and do it…we are not complete monsters.) She IS a serous piece of work, to be fair, and this is not everyone’s experience…some people have super cool parents…but when I think about it, REALLY put some numbers together, my husband and I probably spend less than a day or two every month with his family, (we live about 45 minutes away in London ) and less than three days a year or so with mine in the US.
It is the same for all for almost everyone know…once you get married, and often move away from where you were raised, well, almost no one I can think of spends all that much time with their parents. My Mom had us to ensure she had company for life…loneliness is her biggest fear. The irony is that she probably feels even lonelier having kids who avoid her rather than just having not had us at all. (Our childhood was a horror show…I DO know that this kind of relationship isn’t…”normal.” )
But even my friends who had great experiences are not “best friends” with their family, and kind of sorta dread this time of year when everyone is forced together. You can LOVE your family…but not really LIKE them. That’s firmly the camp I stand in anyways.
So when I think about having a kid (because I could give a sh*t about “chubby baby toes” too…) I think about having an adult kid. AND THEN…I think about having an adult kid like me. One who really would rather just not have to deal with her crazy family. And I would be that crazy family. And in ever decreasing circles….I just look forward to getting another dog.
My friend told me this:
“Having a child is like your first serious crush. You love this person with utter madness, you are obsessed with them and follow them around and can think of nothing else every second…and they are kind of like…”who is this crazy bitch and why won’t she leave me alone?”
Hahaha! Your friend’s comment is probably the best thing I’ve ever read. It’s so true.
I think about this subject a lot, I’m definitely more jazzed about adult children (people over 18) because my relationship with my parents isn’t really fantastic. I love them, but I don’t really like them, and I’m not very conventional in terms of life beliefs/choices (childfree!) so we don’t get along that well. However, our dealings with each other have gotten much better as I’ve gotten older. I’m also friends with my friends’ mothers and who doesn’t like fun older folks taking you out for dinner! So when I think about these qualities, I realize I really am looking for people who share similar interests and can hang out and travel with me, like……friends. So, I should bypass children all together and expand my circle of friends!
Always a good option! And I think soon social media is going to make it way easier for people to find other Childfree people who live near them and have similar interests – so when all your friends start having kids, you have someone else who’s in the same place as you are.