To Be, or not to be…happy

Here we go again. Did you see the piece in New York Magazine? The one about how parenthood makes people less happy?

Here are a some real gems:

“…all parents spend more time today with their children than they did in 1975, including mothers, in spite of the great rush of women into the American workforce. Today’s married mothers also have less leisure time (5.4 fewer hours per week); 71 percent say they crave more time for themselves (as do 57 percent of married fathers). Yet 85 percent of all parents still—still!—think they don’t spend enough time with their children.”

“(Children are) a huge source of joy, but they turn every other source of joy to s***.”

“And couples probably pay the dearest price of all. Healthy relationships definitely make people happier. But children adversely affect relationships. As Thomas Bradbury, a father of two and professor of psychology at UCLA, likes to say: ‘Being in a good relationship is a risk factor for becoming a parent.’

Studies and articles like this always irritate me. How do you measure “happy,” anyway? “Happy” is a mood. “Happy” depends on the day of the week, the hour, sometimes the minute. It depends on whether you’re fighting with your sister, or coming off a fun day at the beach. Reducing the lifelong experience of parenthood to this tiny sliver is worse than ridiculous.

Plus, these sorts of stories are based on people’s perceptions, which are then turned into reality. This is another thing I hate about political “news.” During an election cycle, we don’t hear facts about issues or stances; that would be too complicated, too prone to bias. No, we hear the results of polls, because obviously what people THINK is the truth actually IS the truth. (Puh-leeze.)

So I was somewhat mollified to see that (buried halfway down the article), they shared this:

“Seven years ago, the sociologists Kei Nomaguchi and Melissa A. Milkie did a study in which they followed couples for five to seven years, some of whom had children and some of whom did not. And what they found was 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): Do you not feel like eating? Do you feel like you can’t shake the blues? Do you feel lonely? Like you can’t get going? Parents, who live in a clamorous, perpetual-forward-motion machine almost all of the time, seemed to have different answers than their childless cohorts.

Somewhat, because you still have to draw the obvious conclusion for yourself: that fleeting “happiness” is not the whole story. Parenthood is stressful, for sure, and sometimes it seems like the rewards are ephemeral. But if you can step back and look at the big picture, it makes all the difference. Sure, this morning as I type I have a 16-month-old whining and whimpering, trying to sit on my lap and take over the keyboard.  And a 5-year-old sulking because I told him he couldn’t wear his Superman pajamas all day (he’s been wearing them for 76 hours already). Is that annoying? Uh, yes. Do I like stubbing my toe on chairs and stools, tripping over stainless bowls while I’m trying to cook? Not in the slightest. In fact, I throw temper tantrums about it all the time.

But in twenty-five years, when my kids are grown, I’m not going to be stuck on this day’s annoyances–this day’s, or any day’s, for that matter. I’m going to be thinking how rich my life is because of them.

This is why I get so irritated when the girl at Kidz Court looks at my chaotic family of three little ones and says, “You’re crazy.” When did we lose the ability to think and plan long term? When did the passing pleasure of the moment become the only standard by which we judge life?

“I think this boils down to a philosophical question, rather than a psychological one,” says (Tom) Gilovich (of Cornell U). “Should you value moment-to-moment happiness more than retrospective evaluations of your life?”

Most importantly, I have a choice in how we choose to approach the individual moments. With or without children, there will always be irritations in life, but there will also be moments of heart-stopping beauty and incredible grace. And often, they are the same moments. The baby who’s trying to type my blog post in Baby-de-gook is also holding his hands up and padding toward me with a grin that makes my insides go gooey. The kid sulking about Superman jammies is also taking time outs to giggle at being tickled. In these moments that swing so wildly, I get to choose which part defines my mood.

I won’t always choose well. But I will always have the choice.

Published in: on July 29, 2010 at 8:12 am  Comments (3)  
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An Interview with Kimberly Hahn

This spring, I had the opportunity to interview Kimberly Hahn for an article in the Couple to Couple League’s Family Foundations magazine. Catholic audiences need no introduction to Mrs. Hahn and her husband. But for those who aren’t familiar with their work, Scott and Kimberly Hahn were a Protestant minister’s family who converted to Catholicism via a long and sometimes painful process of rediscovering Scripture. Dr. Hahn unwraps Catholic faith and teachings in the light of Scripture, and Mrs. Hahn focuses on issues relating to family and parenthood.

The day we talked, I got to pick her brain on the subject of overparenting, and the way that the choice not to use contraception affects our outlook on parenting. Although we were talking Catholicism, I think her reflections will resonate with Protestant and Catholic alike.

KB: Is there something about the choice not to contracept that causes a shift in the way couples choose to parent?

KH: I do think it makes a big difference. Just looking up a couple of articles on the one-child policy in China brought it into focus. In China they’re talking about the “little emperor syndrome.” Since this is the only child they’re going to have, parents focus all their time and attention on that child. You have two parents and four grandparents catering to one child. Six adults, all trying to figure out how they will help that ONE child afford a house. Now they’re referring to these little boys as the Brat Pack, because instead of learning the normal things that a child needs to learn, they’re being catered to.

Sometimes in the States you’ll hear people having only one or two children talk about “premium” children. They’ll use negative images about larger families, like “we’re not having a litter of kids, or a crop of kids, were having premium children.” To NFP parents, they are priceless children. They’re a gift from God, so we have a responsibility to raise them well, but not to have them be the focus of our lives.

The secular view is: I only want to have one or two children because I can then give them everything. My husband overheard this couple on a plane, with a six-month old baby. Scott got into conversation with them. He said, “Is this your first child?”

“This is our only child,” the husband said. “We’re gonna give her everything.”

And my husband said, “Except siblings.” The secular world thinks of the THINGS, the room to themselves, the toys…but they’re very lonely children. Some of them don’t have very many cousins, aunts and uncles, so the family structure that would help them be well-rounded Christian people isn’t there. There are those who substitute things, and they think they’re doing what’s best for their kids.

KB: Does the fact that we practice surrendering to God’s will and trusting in God’s timing predispose us to resist the urge to overparent?

KH: As Christians, the center of our lives needs to be Christ. Do we need to be responsible for their safety? Sure, but ultimately I’m not the one in control—God is. And our perspective on contraception is that God is the one in control. And we’re acknowledging that.

For example, germs. If you have one or two children, you can go out of your way to protect them…but they may grow up to be sickly adults because they weren’t exposed when they were young. When you have lots of kids, you can’t do that, but they may be healthier later.

It’s important to be responsible for their care, but God is asking us to be faithful in parenting. One of the challenges every parent faces, whether Christian or not, is different shading between our children and ourselves. We can feel that their success is our success and their failure is our shame. I think the Catholic perspective on parenting is more balanced. Yes, we have an influence on their success or failure, but if we begin to equate their success or failure with ours, then were not putting the correct emphasis on God.

Does that mean I can’t reinforce my child’s obedience? Of course I can–but I can only do so much. Beyond that, I have to trust in God. God is going to teach them and challenge them through other people, not just me. I think of those parents who map out what Ivy League school their kids are going to attend based on what preschool they send them to. They’re confusing their identity.

I think that a Catholic view on parenting is much more balanced. Of course, we all bring our own weaknesses and strengths to parenthood. One of the differences between the Catholic view of family and the secular world is the marriage relationship. The primary relationship is our marriage; and from that, our children are our next priority. It’s very important that we care for children and serve them in the ways that we need to, but we can’t make them the center of our life, because that’s where God needs to be. And ultimately if we put the priorities in order, we’re serving them better.

KB: Does the Church offer us any guidance? What about Scripture, saints, etc.?

KH: In I Corinthians 8:1, Paul says that knowledge puffs up; love builds up.
The Church teaches us that responsible parenting is being open to life. The world will pit having children vs. being responsible. So many of these beautiful Church and papal writings don’t pit one versus the other. I don’t know any parent who would say they DON’T want to do the best thing for their kids. If that’s our primary motivation, then we need to trust the wisdom of the Church that what is best for our children includes our openness to life.

There’s a psychiatrist up in Canada who treats kids with lots of dark thoughts. There’s the sense in these kids that it was a good thing they were conceived when they were, because otherwise they might not be here at all.
If we will yield to the Lord and the Church, we will discover how good it is for our children to have other children. I think of older couples who say they wish they had had more children, but now it’s too late. The time to be open is when it’s possible.

My mom had her last baby when I was sixteen, and she said it this way: “I know I will be an older parent when he’s young. But you are all so close, I know you will all care for him.”

KB: As you might imagine, considering my interest, we also talked about Down syndrome. Its pretty common, though of course not universal, that once you have a child with Down’s, you’re done—as if parents throw their hands up in defense against the fear of being overwhelmed by more children, because that one child requires so much more to accomplish the basic necessities of life. Mrs. Hahn took a different approach. She told me about a friend of hers, who has a child with Down’s. That friend responded by saying, “It makes me want to have more children. I know I’m probably going not to outlive my child, and this way his siblings can care for him.”

I know that conventional wisdom would react badly to that—as if the only value for a younger sibling of a child with special needs is as eventual caretaker, a person in service to a more fragile older sibling, a la My Sisters Keeper. But I think that misses a couple of important points.

First, this perspective only exists in combination with a deep love of and openness to life. And secondly, this is what family is about: taking care of each other. I don’t see anything wrong with parents who take into account the lifelong welfare of all family members while they’re making decisions about family planning.

Mrs. Hahn goes on to say,

KH: That’s part of the irony of the Gospel being lived out in normal life: it may sound more logical to stop everything and focus all the resources on one. But I can think of a family where the next child challenges and encourages the older sibling with developmental growth.

Parenthood gives us a chance to really trust the Lord: whether we’re able to conceive, whether we’re able to bring them to term, whether there are disabilities to deal with…we’re really not in control.

On the other hand, we do know a lot of parents feel the impulse to overprotect. It is responsible to pause and consider: Is there something good and holy in that impulse?

When we try to live the Church’s teaching we can sometimes fall into the trap of Catholic guilt and think we have to offer everything up, that we can’t ever say, “This is too hard!” Sometimes its really overwhelming, and we have to find the friends who will encourage us and pray for us.

Note to CCL members: look for more with Kimberly Hahn in the September/October issue of Family Foundations.

Beadwork (or: the origin of motherhood)

Motherhood Moments

It hangs in the the closet, tucked in the back with all the other clothes I don’t wear anymore, flowing concert black and high school prom red…

Like another of my blog friends, I, too, like to pull it out and put it on once in a while, as my mother did when we were little. And Alex, who after attending a wedding recently is newly intrigued by this weird grownup ritual of wearing impossible-to-keep-clean, really big dresses, insisted upon being photographer instead of one of the subjects.

So, for a few brief, glorious minutes, I got to be my bride-self again…the juxtaposition of who I once was with who I have become: flowing satin amid piles of laundry, and jammie-clad little ones on my lap.

And when it was done, we resumed our routine as if nothing had happened. Resumed the world of books, prayers, tucking in, and procrastinating by protesting that the radio is hissing, by screeching for water…

…to the ordinary tasks of cutting hair…hair that once was all black, but now begins to turn white at the temples.

Beadwork and tuxedos. That is where motherhood begins: in a union of two who become one, whose union becomes enfleshed again and again. Praise God.

***

(Note: yes, I am very proud of the fact that eleven years and three children later, I can still wear my wedding dress.)

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Published in: on July 22, 2010 at 5:31 am  Comments (7)  

Young Love: A School Bus Motherhood Moment

Motherhood Moments

It’s taken two weeks to gather the photographic evidence and the permission to share, but I hope you’ll agree it’s worth the wait. Quite possibly my favorite Motherhood Moment Ever.

They’re buddies at school, two adorably sweet children who speak the same language, a language without words. This summer, they’ve ridden the school bus to and from school every day side by side. And one day…this.

Every morning, they giggle on the way to school.

Every afternoon, she sleeps, he keeps watch.

Oh, sweetness. Sweetness indeed.

Mamarazzi Mondayyoucapture 4-1

Published in: on July 15, 2010 at 4:03 am  Comments (17)  
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Death by Chocolate (and Peanut Butter)

Ann Voskamp has us thinking about rest this week. But in my reflections on the subject, I realized…I haven’t been. And as I lie awake at night, wound up and wishing it was morning so I could write…as I wake up 3 and 4 times through the night and have trouble getting back to sleep (only half of them related to kids who need me)…as the house gets in unacceptable messiness…I realize:
 
I’m out of balance again. And so for me, rest today means NOT blogging long and eloquent on the subject, but accepting something simpler and making time for stillness. I can’t do it in nature today, not with preschool transport and two rambunctious boys…but I can rest by rediscovering balance. By taking a day to be mom first, and writer distant second. And so today I simply share a story of Death By Chocolate (and peanut butter):
 
The BEGINNING…

Chocolate cake (w/buttermilk); PB icing (w/2 sticks of butter & a cup of cream). As one of our student's parents cried last night, "That must be like a thousand calories! WHY did you do it????"

 …and THE AFTERMATH…

 

 

Published in: on July 14, 2010 at 5:20 am  Comments (21)  
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15 (months) going on 5

I swear, he thinks he’s five years old.

If anybody else has a fork and a spoon, he has to, too. He has to eat corn on the cob, in defiance of his mouthful of 7 teeth (two of which are no more than nubs).

He thinks he has to have whatever everybody else has, from toys to food; he often flatly refuses to drink milk from his sippy cup, or the plastic cup, because he wants WATER out of a GLASS GLASS like EVERYBODY ELSE.

He begs to have his teeth brushed. Yes, I said “begs.” He will actually go up the stairs on his own, and climb up on the stool and wait, howling for help. And lately he’s been trying to do it himself.

He’s learning to express his preferences through signs and by way of Julianna’s system of grunts. A sign takes him about three seconds to figure out; you can practically see the synaptic connections closing behind his eyes.

He thinks he’s five years old—except when it’s not to his advantage. Then, he’s all baby.

When an older sibling torments him (Alex through a surfeit of love, Julianna through pure cussedness…let’s be honest), the screams fill the entire three levels. He comes running to Mommy for a snuggle…but mostly because he thinks I’m too stupid to know that what he really wants is to bang on the computer keyboard. When you tell him he has to eat his vegetables and his meat before he gets a cracker/fruit/cheese/dessert—woe betide the world! Wailing commences! Unfortunately for Nicholas, he’s the third child. Mommy and Daddy are on to the manipulation game now. Temper tantrums get him nowhere. We’ve developed a tolerance for them, and if he outlasts our tolerance, he lands in his crib with the door closed.

It’s really fun to see him blossom like this. As Julianna continues her incremental quarter-steps forward, he leaps the chasm between them like Mario on a bonus. There is no getting used to the difference in the speed of their learning. Even though I know he’s tuned in to a cosmic radio wave she can’t hear and I have lost tuning for, I still can’t help shivering in wonder as I watch him learn.

Growth charts, begone! My baby’s growing just fine.

Mamarazzi Monday

Published in: on July 8, 2010 at 6:49 am  Comments (8)  
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Aargh, mateys!

Motherhood Moments

I have a terrific Motherhood Moment in the making, but I have to get a picture of it first. It’s just too cute to share without the visual. And so this week, I’m doing something a bit different. I’m sharing someone else’s.

Marian blogs as Miss A La Mode  (who can resist that title?), and her post yesterday began with an irresistible picture:

Go read the story over at “A La Mode“….and then come back and share YOUR motherhood moment for the week! C’mon, I know you’ve got one!

Oh yes, and here’s a bonus post for the day…because I took the pictures, and I couldn’t not share a picture of my youngling aspen.

Published in: on July 1, 2010 at 5:19 am  Leave a Comment  
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Kids in Church, round two: Alex 2, Parents 0

Originally uploaded by markhillary

He’s at it again.

After Vacation Bible School, Alex’s interest in and behavior at church took a definite turn for the better. For two weeks. But apparently he was just saving up all his bad behavior for use the last two weeks.

On Father’s Day in Southern Illinois, we went to church with my in-laws, and sat in the front. Christian and I had to take turns holding Nicholas at the back…and Alex?

Alex chased me down the center aisle, and when I gave him the look, he ran back to the front. He folded his arms and scowled, he hunched in his seat, he sat when he was supposed to stand and slumped when he was supposed to kneel. No amount of explaining what was going on…no amount of threats…made any difference. It was the best music we’ve ever experienced at that parish, but he cared not.

After Mass, at least five people came up to us to smile and pat our shoulders and tell us what a good job we were doing amid such chaos. Em-barrassing.

But maybe it was the excitement of visiting Grandma and Grandpa. Maybe the next week would be better.

As it turned out, this week we sat with Great-Grandma, which seemed, at the breakfast table, like it was going to help. But the happy child eating Danish for a treat at home turned into holy 5-year-old terror when we reached the pew. Yes, it was crowded. Yes, it was hot. But I swear he was possessed. The only thing he participated in was the Lord’s Prayer. He spent the rest of the time…you guessed it. Folding his arms and scowling, hunched in his seat, sitting when he was supposed to stand and slumping when he was supposed to kneel, and refusing to make any attempt to pay attention.

It doesn’t sound that bad, but it was. Trust me. It. Was. Bad.

And after Mass, three people came up to tell us they remembered what it was like to have poorly-behaved children at church (they didn’t use those words, but it was definitely what they meant) and what a good job we were doing. (Actually, one woman was super sweet. “Kate, I don’t know how you manage to handle all this chaos and still look so beautiful!” she said, which definitely fed my vanity!)

We are at our wits’ end, people, and so I am begging for ideas. And I mean begging. This is a kid who has a beautiful voice, loves to sing, and sings freely at all times, except at church. (And story time. Weird, huh?) He’s eminently capable of learning the responses, and we’ve tried whispering in his ear, telling him what’s going on, but nothing works. He’s horrible at church. I rack my brains trying to remember myself being bad at church, clinging to the hope that he might just grow out of it…but I can’t remember ever acting this way at church. It’s embarrassing, and it’s painful for me, because I love the liturgy.

Help? Ideas? Please?

Published in: on June 30, 2010 at 4:50 am  Comments (12)  
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Two Peas in a Pod

(or, What Happened Because of a Tire, Part Two. )

Motherhood Moments

Post-tire adventure, we piled back in the car and started down the highway again. Now Alex was the crabby one (he wanted the McDonald’s Playplace, not Pizza Hut), and this time he was the one who conked out immediately. Meanwhile, in the captain’s chairs, Julianna and Nicholas struck up an antiphonal chorus. Julianna clapped, Nicholas giggled. Nicholas clapped, Julianna giggled. Julianna squealed, Nicholas giggled. (He has such an adorable laugh.) Nicholas made raspberry noises, Julianna giggled. They stretched their arms across the divide between their chairs and shook hands, and both of them would collapse into hysterics simultaneously.

(Sorry for the poor exposure...it was the best I could get)

It was ten miles of entertainment for Mommy and Daddy, until Nicholas conked out mid-squeal and Julianna waved her empty hand at Nicholas, wailing, “Euh, euh!”

My little ones are two peas in a pod these days. As Nicholas barrels down on his big sister’s developmental age—not to mention her weight and height—they become more and more aware of their compatibility.

But of course, compatibility at this age also involves conflict. As the ranking child, Julianna must keep some measure of control. She likes to teach him…

"More"

…and lead him in chorus…

…and there’s a healthy dose of torment in their relationship, too. If he gets out of line (which means, uh…I don’t know, he looked at her funny?), she “hugs” him.

Yeah, like that. Involving lots of screaming and wailing from him, and a sly smile from her.

Hold onto control as long as you can, little girl. I estimate you’ve got six months, max, before he barrels past you, and starts dragging you along the path of developmental milestones.

Water Wonder

Motherhood Moments

Yesterday, I realized that two weeks in, we were wasting the summer.

Of course, the weather hasn’t been terrific…the last time we tried to go outside, we got this:

The kids made the best of it…

…and their moms (my sister and I) got a laugh out of our own drenched Sunday clothes.

Nonetheless, it was time for some real summer. Yesterday, we sacrificed naps (and all of Alex’s energy, leaving him sulky at evening baseball) and met up with some good friends we never get to see except in the summertime, and we all took a trip to the spray park.

At first, I was worried about the napless little ones. But Nicholas enjoyed himself–as long as Mommy held him and played with him.

And Julianna, though she began by being scared of the spouts (eerily parallel to her love/hate relationship with plants), soon took off walking, and felt no need whatsoever to stay close to Mommy. In fact, she made several new friends.

Then we hopped over to the adjacent beach. Lakes are totally awesome swimming places. I mean, they’re like ginormous wading pools–tons of space to for little ones to play in their own depth.

And ah…Missouri “sand.” Yum.

A lovely day in the water. Welcome, summer (at last!).

youcapture 4-1

Published in: on June 17, 2010 at 5:45 am  Comments (11)  
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