Is it me or does parenting suck?

Parenting is rewarding. Parenting is worthwhile. It’s the greatest thing you’ll ever do. Some people would give anything to be able to conceive so count yourself lucky if you can have children.

I’m sure these were things I heard in relation to being a parent, possibly long before I actually became one. Well, for weeks now I’ve been wanting to sit down and pen a letter to whoever will listen about why parenting definitely does suck. It’s been a draining few months. On the back of a draining year involving a new baby and a house move. Every day is a good day for sure, but perhaps not for everyone…

Generally, the news is full of horror stories, so surely one should feel fortunate to be able to hug one’s children and live in peace? There’s truth in that, certainly. Although experiential relativism does nothing to quell my three-year-old’s rage when we can’t find the latest plastic dinosaur that’s gone missing. The plight of Ukrainian refugees or the current appalling conditions in Afghanistan should give me perspective. Yet those extreme examples of woeful human conditions actually aren’t remedies for the tedium of my current situation.

Needing down time

One night a few weeks back, I was in conversation with my wife and I had to admit I felt depleted, beaten, at the end of my rope. I was ready to throw in the towel. She felt similar. My partner and I sat there, slumped on our Ikea kitchen chairs, searching the range of our conversational ability for new ways to express our exhaustion.

But what can be said really? Where’s the rousing half time speech to lift the mood when both members of a two-person team are almost ready to quit? The problem for both of us now is that there’s no way out. This is one lifelong confrontation with a destiny we chose for ourselves. Can this be it? I recall a parent of an older child claiming he was ‘waiting for the easy part of parenting’. So what, is it bleak from here on out?

That’s just not satisfactory. If there’s nobody to be my Al Pacino in Any Given Sunday, then I’ll have to give my own team a pep talk. We’ve been going through hell for a while but we can pull ourselves out… inch by inch. What follows is a few sections taking the opposite view from my title. I am going to write something about the joy of parenting and I’ll refrain from using the words ‘rewarding’ or ‘worthwhile’.

Watching them grow

I took my three-year-old to an adventure playground this past weekend and he enjoyed it tremendously. There was an older girl from his nursery who happened to be there at the same time. They played jumping and chasing, sliding and climbing. It was encouraging to watch them engage with each other. There was close adult supervision of course but the girl taking the lead to help my son tackle rickety rope bridges and navigate the tunnels was something special.

My son knew how to interact with the older child, to call her and play tag. She taught him how to jump off a small ledge next to the steps, a skill which he in turn showed another child how to do. This made me smile as the third learner of this particular trick wasn’t well suited to the task and kept doing commando roles after each jump. The thud and dispersed woodchips each time he rolled made a little scene. It was a case of monkey see, monkey do yet the third monkey couldn’t quite do it. I know that children often learn through mimicry and was quick to encourage them in this play. Luckily, the third kids mum spotted the flaw in his technique and corrected him.

The thing that made me the most proud on this outing was that my son offered to share his strawberry Cornetto ice cream. A little thing, but it was a behaviour I had not witnessed before, especially when he has had ample opportunities to share in the home environment. Little step by little step, my son is making progress into becoming a socially integrated person. I can’t take all the credit but I’m claiming a good portion of it.

Saying goodnight is a good reminder of positive parenting

I stood at the doorway, casting the room in the dim half-light from the corridor. “I’m sad you’re leaving”, the softly spoken words, emphasised by his moist eyes and slight frown moved something in me. How could I possibly leave that little face? I had to go back and keep away the ‘shadows’ so that my son could fall asleep. His head resting on my tummy as I lay somewhat awkwardly on his especially low bed. This was the night-time ritual.

I think he’s finally asleep and I can escape to do the rest of the chores and then possibly my own thing. Suddenly he whispers “I’m always here for you”. Said in his tone of voice at an unexpected moment makes me wonder if he knows what the words actually mean. Almost every day, he’ll say “I love you Daddy” or “I love you Mummy” and each time its worth cherishing, but this is a new one. I’m more than a little surprised. I reply likewise and he drifts off to the land of slumber.

It occurred to me recently that in those moments as he relaxes from story time to sleep I’m protecting him from what the ‘shadows’ represent; the scary and unknown. By contrast, my presence represents the known, the familiar, the notion of security and safety. I am his guardian and his guide. That’s a role which parenting has ushered me into and one that despite the pressure, I have come to savour.

The inherent value of life

It’s easy to forget that life is precious. That it is not guaranteed. In fact the survival rate of everything drops to zero on a long enough timeline. We’re all dust in the end. I recently finished Des Latham’s excellent Podcast series on the Battle of Stalingrad. The thirty four episodes reminded me that there have been times in the world’s history when men and women were just slaughtered for political reasons. Killed for being different ethnicities or nationalities. Both sides were as cruel as each other over the course of that unforgiving conflict. Countless parents lost children and children lost parents due to the madness.

Whatever your family situation you yourself came from parents. We are all bound together by family ties. We are each others guardians and guides. The parental role is crucially important. Raising children well is the key to creating loving family bonds. Maybe with more love in the world we could avoid repeating the worst mistakes of human history. What’s happening in Eastern Europe is more than concerning on that front but who knows? Maybe we can still avoid the descent into total chaos.

Parenting is possibly even more important than I can appreciate in my low energy malaise of recent weeks. If you take anything from this blog post it’s that you get out what you put in with children. As for my household, ‘team parents’ here are definitely drained, but the little ones are thriving. My aim of years back was to raise children so that they know they mattered, that they knew they were loved. So far so good it seems. It’s something we all need.