I love my kids, but I sometimes regret having them.
Pardon the clickbait-y title and opening sentence. But are we parents allowed to say that? Are we allowed to feel both of those things at once?
We’ve got a 6-year-old, a 4-year-old, and an almost-2-year-old. And, no, I don’t actually begrudge them their existence! I want what’s best for their lives and futures. And don’t get me wrong; there are moments of laughter, poignancy, joy, etc.
But they’re also driving me crazy.
The noise, chaos, and overstimulation have me frequently annoyed at my kids before they’ve even finished breakfast. I usually just stare into the middle distance during mealtimes. By the time they’ve all gone (back) to bed (for the final time), I just want to crawl into a dark, quiet hole.
If my wife weren’t such a rockstar, our family’s daily life would probably have fallen apart by now. But it’s wearing her down, too.
We’ve tried gentle parenting and not-so-gentle parenting. We read all the parenting books. We try to learn, good and bad, from our own parents. We try to learn from other parents our age.
We’ve prayed for patience and wisdom, for ourselves and for our children. Like this prayer “For the Care of Children” from the 1979 Book of Common Prayer:
Almighty God, heavenly Father, you have blessed us with the joy and care of children: Give us calm strength and patient wisdom as we bring them up, that we may teach them to love whatever is just and true and good, following the example of our Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
We’ve tried to teach our kids how to deal with their big feelings in a healthy way. We’ve reminded them that, while they’re free to feel their feelings, they still need to make good choices about what they do with those feelings, because choices have consequences.
I know I’m not alone in this. I also know that all of this says more about me than it does about my kids. (“It’s me. Hi! I’m the problem. It’s me.”)
Other parents out there have more children, with worse behavior and fewer resources. Others out there desperately wish they had children, and are probably pretty upset with me right now, if they read this.
And yet, here we are. Are other parents as stressed-out as I am?
When I read the Surgeon General’s “Parents Under Pressure” Advisory, that “parents are at their wits’ end” and there’s an “urgent need to better support parents, caregivers, and families,” I nod in exhausted agreement.
And I say a weary “amen” when I read this insightful opinion piece on how “Parents Should Ignore Their Children More Often.” In it, Darby Saxbe suggests that “one of the best things parents can do — for ourselves as well as for our children — is to go about our own lives and tote our children along. You might call it mindful underparenting.” Saxbe isn’t suggesting parental neglect, though:
“To be sure, when kids are upset, in danger or require guidance, parents can and should swoop in to help. But that is precisely the point: It is only by ignoring our children much of the time that we conserve the energy necessary to give them our full attention when they actually need it.”
Brilliant. Right? But it’s not like we’re actively trying to be helicopter parents.
I’m not sure where I’m going with this, but it’s left me wondering what kind of societal, structural, and personal changes are required to help us parents endure and raise wise humans. You know, without collapsing into abandonment, abuse, alcoholism, or any of the other unhealthy ways of coping with parenting stress.
I’ll close with another quote from Saxbe’s opinion piece:
“In other words, underparenting requires structural change, and not just the obvious changes that we think of as parental stress-relievers, such as family leave and paid child care. It also requires that as a society, we build back our tolerance for children in public spaces, as annoying and distracting as they can be, and create safe environments where lightly supervised kids can roam freely. In a society that treated children as a public good, we would keep a collective eye on all our kids — which would free us of the need to hover over our own.”
Indeed. So let’s give all our kids, and the stressed-out parents we know and love, a big hug today. And think about how we can help raise the next generations — with minimal regrets.
(P.S. It’s not all doom-and-gloom at the Steele-haus. Here are 10 things I love about my kids.)