A paean to parenthood

[radegund]

A friend recently spent some time with me and Oisín, having not seen us for a while. Oisín was sick and was being, frankly, a monumental pain in the arse. He was out of sorts for most of the time my friend was with us, and he became heartbroken if I so much as put him down while I buttered bread. During a lull in the whinging, I somewhat wickedly asked my friend for her on-the-spot assessment of parenthood, and she confessed that she was finding it a bit hard to see the point.

So I've been mulling this over. What is the point? Why am I so unshakeably willing to put up with the relentless physical and emotional demands, the repetitiveness of it all, the broken sleep, the oozing of shit and the smearing of spoo? And I've come to the not very original conclusion that it's a long-term endeavour like any other - a novel, a sporting goal, a doctorate. The framework within which we undertake these things sustains us through the difficulty.

At the time, I'm afraid I trotted out the old chestnut, "it's different when it's your own child". But the thing is, that's true. Not because of some Mystical Bond of Blood, but because when it's your own child it's your endeavour, willingly undertaken. Just as I might have difficulty understanding why a committed runner, say, goes out even on wet, freezing mornings, people without children must sometimes wonder about - or even doubt - my claim that all the hardship is worth it.

There's also the "you have a brain, therefore you couldn't possibly enjoy the company of a baby/toddler" school of thought, which is significantly more prevalent than I'm comfortable with. I've grown up with the unspoken assumption that intellectual work is superior to any other kind, and that interaction at the level of language is the most worthwhile, but recently I've been questioning that.

Someone who pays occasional visits to our house may see me engaged in an endless succession of small tasks, complete with commentary - reroll overlong trouser legs, wipe dribbly chin, roll ball, receive ball, bounce ball, throw ball, read first page of Dear Zoo, move cup of tea out of reach, hand over mobile phone, receive mobile phone, conduct imaginary conversation with someone who isn't there for the benefit of someone who doesn't understand, hand over mobile phone, receive half-chewed bread crust, read first three pages of Dear Zoo, wipe nose, receive ball, throw ball, receive ball, roll ball, receive mobile phone, conduct different imaginary conversation, hand over mobile phone, receive mobile phone, hand over mobile phone, receive mobile phone, hand over mobile phone, receive mobile phone, hand over mobile phone, stack stacking cups, unstack stacking cups, stack stacking cups, unstack stacking cups, group stacking cups by colour, surreptitiously retrieve mobile phone from floor, receive ball, bounce ball, throw ball, reroll overlong trouser legs, wipe dribbly chin, read first page of Dear Zoo...

It must seem utterly mindless.

What the visitor doesn't see is that the business of this week is subtly different from the business of last week. Catching a thrown ball is a new skill, and so is lifting the flaps to reveal the animals on the pages of Dear Zoo. Also, the sound he makes as he hands me the book seems to be consistent (although it's nothing like "book"). The dribbling may mean that a new tooth is on the way, so we should be on the lookout for other symptoms, and I don't think he could have reached that tea the week before last.

Progress, you see. Constant tiny changes, happening before my eyes. It's wonderful to watch.

The difference with a child, of course, is that there is no end product I'm aiming for. In fact, the product is already there - he's as much of a person as I am, or you are; I helped to make him, but he is not mine. Parenthood is a collaborative effort. And in a way, there is no "point". But there's a shape - an intricate, unique, unpredictable shape, and one that I hope to be exploring for the rest of my life.

Comments

[socmot.livejournal.com]

The difference with a child, of course, is that there is no end product I'm aiming for.

Is this really so true? From my observations of all parents, I think it's somewhere in the middle. Certainly, you are not aiming for some sort of end product, but I bet you have ideas - even the vaguest general ones - about what you'd like Oisin to be in 30 years time. Likewise, I bet you have ideas as to what you don't want him to be in 30 years time.

Disclaimer - I am not a parent, and my perspective is probably all over the place.

(By the way, will dedicate time tonight to reply to your comment, so stay tuned!)

[cangetmad.livejournal.com]

I see what radegund means, I think - development in a person isn't a product, because the person is entire and respect-able as they are as soon as they're born. Product sort of implies you go from nothing, or component parts, to something. But a child is already somebody, as much of a somebody at eight months as they will be at eight years, or eighty.

[radegund.livejournal.com]

What brandnewgun said.

But also, I meant that there isn't (barring disastrous circumstances) a point at which I can go "OK, done that, finished product; now, what's next?"

I've been pondering the bit about my hopes for Oisín. Obviously, I'd rather he didn't do drugs or murder anyone or join the PDs (*grin*), but I'm having a harder time coming up with things that I'd be disappointed if he didn't do or become. The one thing I definitely want him to be is happy. But he could become unhappy at any time in his life, so I can't ever say "right, I've produced a happy person". I'm always going to be there as a person he may consider turning to for input.

Make sense?

[jeejeen.livejournal.com]

I will confess that I am something like your friend, with the not seeing of the point, and things like that. But the fact is, we don't HAVE to see the point, YOU do! And it's lucky, because you DO see the point, and that's why you're doing the parenthood thing, and loving it, and hating it, and embracing it, and being it. I don't think that there's really any treatise that could make me understand the point of parenthood in general, but it's fun to hear what the point of parenthood is to a particular person at a particular time.

I'm not sure why I'm commenting, really, but I read the whole thing, and felt it deserved some kind of response!

[radegund.livejournal.com]

Thanks, dear. It's funny, isn't it? I wish it were as simple as "some people want to do doctorates; some people want to have babies", but I just don't feel that it is, really, what with the societal pressures and the constructions of gender roles and whatnot. I find it hard to avoid getting defensive when people say "I don't see the point of having children", but I'm working on it.

Diversity. Respect. Good things.

[hfnuala.livejournal.com]

A friend of mine once said yeah the baby years are tough but in return you get this boundless unconditional love like nothing you can get from anyone else. And afterwards, there's a kid who you're likely to find interesting to talk to because they will have at least some of your interests.

[radegund.livejournal.com]

Yes, I suppose that's part of it. But the thing is, the baby years are fun too! The toughness is only part of the picture, and it all merges (for me) into one enormous, awesome experience, which is basically so fantastically positive that the hard bits sort of recede into the background. (Um. Except where I really need to make my lunch (say), and SOMEBODY won't stop whining...)

What's the point?

[ailbhe]

Um. There isn't a point. It's a desire one fulfills - it's just a desire that comes with rather more responsibility than most. If one wants to raise a child, one has to accept all the bits of raising.

Of course, why one would want to raise a child is a whole 'nother issue. I want to raise 'em - and I'll adopt them if I can't have any more the "easy" way. Some people want to be doctors or golfers or loafers. I want to be a childraiser.

I don't understand the question, in fact. But I love your answer :)

Re: What's the point?

[radegund.livejournal.com]

Thank you :-)

I think I struggle with "there isn't a point", because I've usually felt that there was a point to the things I spend my time and energy on. I was raised in a family that officially Doesn't Do aimlessness, so the aimless parts of childcare have actually taken me slightly by surprise (don't laugh!). I've learnt so much in the last year. It's wonderful.

Re: What's the point?

[ailbhe]

Practically all of what I've learned in the past year is to trust myself.

If I'd insisted that I was in labour when I was in labour, for example. When I think we need to buy a [safety equipment] because Linnea is about to [suicidal thing]. That the funny breathing thing is a bit odd. The dairy thing. The potty thing. All of it - it's down to trusting that what I think is right is adequate to act on, and not referring to other, less-qualified persons for instruction.

And a big part of how I got *there* was changing from "this whole baby thing is my personal life, at which I am incompetent" to "this whole baby thing is my job, at which I am fabulously competent."

OK, *after* having a baby is a bit late to learn this, maybe, but she seems to be surviving so far.

And banana muffins in tiny mini-muffin cases are great; I have a big muffin, she has a mini one, and we're both happy.

[kasku.livejournal.com]

What an amazing, amazing entry.

[radegund.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

[ainetl.livejournal.com]

lovely entry. and i have to agree that raising a child isn't a mindless task at all. i've never really understood people implying so.

[radegund.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

No, I don't understand it either. Particularly not after a year of parenthood. But I do (apparently) feel the need to explain myself, which is interesting in itself, maybe.

[leedy.livejournal.com]

That was a lovely, thoughtful post - thanks!

[radegund.livejournal.com]

Thank you!