All joy and no fun? Only for a little while

Jennifer Senior’s New York Magazine article has been ubiquitous this month, appearing in some form or other (link, reference, interview with the author) on talk shows, parenting blogs and news websites. Its title, “Why Parents Hate Parenting: All Joy and No Fun,” is fairly self-explanatory, as Senior explores why a wealth of data supports the idea that raising children is not generally a significant source of happiness for people, despite the biological and societal mandate that the majority of us choose to follow so that the species endures.

On the one hand, it raises points that are indisputable: child-rearing is exhausting work given today’s standards. Senior cites the term “concerted cultivation” to describe “the aggressive nurturing of economically advantaged children,” and includes this quote from sociologist Annette Lareau: “Middle-class parents spend much more time talking to children, answering questions with questions, and treating each child’s thought as a special contribution.” I believe it was Judith Warner in her parenting book Perfect Madness who pointed out that many of us parents, in our ceaseless commitment to keeping our young children away from TV and other forms of canned entertainment, sometimes turn ourselves into human television sets, with our steady stream of word games, stories, Q&A, and frenetic verbal engagement.

So I definitely agree that parenting takes a lot of effort, and in general the voluntarily childless people I know appear just as happy and fulfilled, and a lot less frazzled, than the parents. However, there seems to be something insufficient about the data or at least the anecdotal evidence used in the New York Magazine piece: it all appears to refer to parents of very young children. The oldest child cited in an anecdote in the story is eight.

Well, as someone whose oldest is now almost twelve, I can say with confidence that things tend to get a lot better and a lot easier right around that time. Basing information about people’s level of happiness with parenting only on parents with children from infancy through the earliest grade school years seems to me – to choose a wildly random simile – like evaluating a vacation destination based on the van shuttle ride from the airport to the hotel. Sure, you see a little of the topography, and maybe you get that instant feeling that you’re going to love this place or not, but believe me, this van ride isn’t the whole trip; it’s the necessary passage to where the fun begins.

There are of course some parents who really love babies and toddlers. My sister and two of my cousins (one a mother and one a father, from different sides of the family) fall into this category. But I think there are a lot more parents who are like I once was, loving their young children but at the same time gazing at them with sleep-deprived fondness while thinking “Someday I can imagine you being a lot more fun.”

My kids were great babies and toddlers, but oh boy did they grow to be a lot more fun. And that’s not so much about them than it is about me. Even before they were born, I suspected I’d get more enjoyment from the grade school years than the early years, and this is not just because they’re off at school during the day. I simply find the activities and interests of school-aged children a lot more engaging than those of preschoolers. I like watching my son play baseball, helping my daughter with school research projects, going on bike rides with the kids, overseeing their baking projects, hosting their sleepover dates. We all have our individual preferences; these are just much more my kind of thing than the “Music Together” sing-alongs or playground visits of their earlier years.

Moreover, it’s not clear that any of the studies cited in the article included responses from parents of adult children or their elderly childless peers. My suspicion is that the data would have reflected a significant trend of parents being happier than non-parents among the senior set. With all modestly, I feel certain that the existence of my sisters and me, along with the existence of our own children, brings unmitigated pleasure to my 70-plus-year-old parents. I imagine it’s very challenging to grow old without offspring as part of your life. My parents have plenty of interests beyond their children and grandchildren, but I feel sure that we significantly enhance their quality of life, and on a purely subjective level, I imagine it must be lonely to grow old without children around to offer care and support.

So for new (or newish) parents who read this study and think “Yes, that’s us! Joy but no fun!”, I would urge them to hang in there. It gets way more fun. It really does. If sandboxes aren’t really your thing, Little League just might be. If you find it hard to sit through the hokey-pokey at the library music hour without wishing you had a recent copy of the New Yorker to read, you might find your satisfaction level lifting when your children start writing stories and poems of their own.

And if you’re one of those lucky parents who loves the baby and toddler years and can’t imagine what the rest of us are complaining about, consider yourself lucky. Your satisfaction level probably won’t decrease at all. You were born to be a parent, and the world needs more of you.