Our kids are young, 3.5y and 13m. Now things are finally starting to become easier in some ways, and in other ways there are new challenges to deal with. These challenges, like all challenges, wear on you, and recently, my SO and I have lost most of our tolerance for the platitudes we hear so regularly from people asking "How are you, how are the kids?"
My SO, more so than myself, is very direct and honest with these questions. Often, their response is met with the usual platitudes:
- Oh well, you know, you'll look back and miss this time when they're older!
- If you think it's bad now, wait until they are teenagers!
- Well, that's called being a parent, right!?
- You can sleep when they're 18! Har Har har.
- and on and on and on...
I think this is an extension of this American social tendency, where our greetings are empty, but to an outsider signal a desire to "check in". The classic "Hey, how are you?" and the only acceptable answer is "Good, and you?"
The general vibe I'm left with is that, the experience of parenting was always better before whatever age the kids are now, the current experience of parenting is no good, and the future experience of parenting will be worse. Since this is a kind of universal platitude, however, the sentiments ring hollow.
Personally, despite the challenges we're having, I really enjoy parenting at the moment. I don't know how I'll feel when they're older, but I can't imagine I'd feel any different. I've had close friends who are parents tell me they look back on the youngest years of parenting and are happy their kids are older. They tell me they are in a much better place now that their kids are independent, and that they can more easily enjoy shared interests like reading or gaming. I appreciate their honesty because it's so refreshing.
I guess, in summary, this is mostly just a rant. My SO and I are regularly keeping it real with people regarding how we're doing and how the kids are. When people can't seem to show us the same realness, it's frustrating. These sentiments effectively terminate the conversation. Conversations that could otherwise be reassuring, validating, or cathartic. Instead, they're just a series of robotic exchanges.
This is my most hated one. My partner and I have always wanted to celebrate who our children are right now. I do miss some things about our kids being infants. But I would never want them to be infants again. Not because I hated that time. I loved it. But they’re different now. And it’s so fucking cool!
Also (TW: childhood trauma, hospitalization),
Tap for spoiler
we almost lost our first child when they were four months old. We spent three months wondering if our child would live or die. They are fine now by the way. Well, as fine as they can be. Everyday that elapses further and further away from the day I had to watch my baby get loaded into an ambulance is a celebration. My children are not becoming corroded or impure by growing. They’re becoming stronger and closer and closer to the people they were always meant to be. And I think that’s awesome.