I so seldom hear parents explaining why they like having kids. I mean rationally explain, the way they can explain why finding a good mate has a lot of advantages.
When parents talk about being, well, parents, the drawbacks and complaints all seem very real. While the advantages parents rave about all seem so…*untangible. *
“The wife wanted to and I grew into it.”
“I always wanted kids” .
“We felt it was time.”
“You haven’t lived untill you’ve seen your four-year old <doing something that isn’t particularly cute if you aren’t in love with the kid>” .
So, Doper Parents, can you don the pink glasses, shut off the feromones for a minute, and tell me why you like having kids?
I’m with you, though, in that many parents do not think about what it really means to have a child. A child is just the “next” thing you do…grow up, move out, go to college, get a job, get married, have children. Deviation from the norm is very difficult for many people.
True, there are parents out there who sincerely want to have children but too many just do it because of expectations. This saddens me, as it’s the often kids who suffer and are neglected.
I’m a parent, and having kids is one of the greatest joys in my life. It is hard to describe exactly why. I never particularly wanted kids, and still don’t particularly like children per se.
But, nothing changed my life as much as having a child. It was as if I had been color blind my entire life and when I held that baby in my arms - voila - I could see colors. I gained something - a depth, a purpose, a capacity to give complete, unrequited and unearned love - which before my child was born I never knew was out there and thus didn’t miss.
They drive me stark raving mad, I want to tear my hair out sometimes, and sometimes I want to curl up and cry my eyes out when they don’t live up to their potential.
But they’re mine. I love them and I would throw myself on a live grenade for them. My son is smart as a whip and adults enjoy talking to him because he can carry on an intelligent conversation without a bunch of “likes” and “you knows” and “dudes.”
My daughter is sprightly, a reader, a social butterfly. She has to try everything once, then has to be pushed into staying the course because it’s harder than she thought. I taught her the meaning of a promise over the weekend. I had taken her, her brother, and her friend to Sea World. Ivygirl had promised to go on Kraken, a floorless roller coaster, but then she tried to back out. Nope, sez I, you promised, you go on Kraken at least once. If you didn’t want to go, you shouldn’t have promised.
So she goes, dragging her feet, and ends up going two more times after that because it was fun.
Kids are work. They’re a strain. They’re a worry. But they’re my babies. And I don’t think I can explain any better to someone without kids. Once you have them, then you know.
Count me as one who just assumed that kids were the next step–that is, I never thought all that hard about having them. Luckily, we had no problems conceiving etc.
I think I can say (kids are 16, almost 14 and 7) that having kids made me a better person. Certainly they assisted in my growing up and losing alot of my self-centeredness. (Not saying that all childless people are that way, but I was).
When they were quite small–they taught me to live in the moment. And believe me, some of those days were endless. In the toddler stage–such a love and enthusiasm for life! I marvelled at it then, and I still do.
But one of the neat things is that I get to redo alot of stuff that I loved as a kid (when was the last time you sat down and colored, for example), but I also got to do stuff that I didn’t get to do as a kid–like take them horseback riding (my mother was deathly allergic to horses). So, there was/is that. Yes, I could have just gone and done that without kids, but I doubt I would have.
Finally, it’s like having another you around–only different. Never would I expect my kids to follow my interests purely because they were mine, but when they find joy in some of the same stuff that I do–nothing beats that. It’s a gift, and I hope I fully appreciate it.
I just like playing with kids and showing them the joys of the world. My daughter is smart and hilarious by all accounts and I can always have a good time with her even though she is only 3. Plus, she looks just like me and I believe in the sociobiology thing.
I’m one who always wanted kids. I like my kids, they’re fun and smart and surprising and very funny! I agree with Long time first time–it’s like getting a whole new dimension in your life, like seeing new colors.
Even when they’re driving me crazy and I want to scream at them, I’d never say that I don’t want them around. I want a break, sure, but I miss them when they’re not with me.
It is a lot of fun to see them doing kid stuff. It’s not quite like reliving my childhood or anything, but I do get a lot of enjoyment out of watching and helping them do fun kid stuff, or things I enjoy, or things I never got to do. Like, my daughter is in martial arts and that is just such a blast! And she likes to read as much as I did as a kid (still do, but you see what I mean), so it’s fun to give her books I loved or to find new ones we both enjoy.
A lot of it is instinct or pheromones or something. You fall in love with your kid and are besotted with him. (This is clearly Mother Nature at work, because if it didn’t happen they’d all be strangled by age 4.) It sounds dumb, but I can easily just watch my kid’s face for a long time, enjoying the curve of her cheek or the way she smiles, or for that matter her cute little tummy curve, or the way her legs are shaped. Toddler legs are to be cherished! And then there’s that adorable toddler run…see? some of it is completely instinct, nature having its way with us. Luckily it’s very enjoyable.
I honestly didn’t know what to expect, and I never especially liked kids before I had one. I don’t know how to explain it either. I think it’s a primal instinct that awakens in you when you hold your baby. It could be hormones, or a chemical brain function but man, it is the strongest feeling you can imagine. Sometimes you just stop and marvel at the idea of that little being that you made and are responsible for.
I have a lot more fun with my son than I thought I would. It is fun to see a person experience things for the very first time, and in such a pure way. Adults are so jaded sometimes that when you watch a toddler struggle to, say, eat with a spoon and finally get it right, and the result of pure joy and pride that he experiences…it gives you a whole new perspective.
Children, especially when they are very young, love you so unashamedly and outwardly that you can’t help but feel good. When your child toddles over to you, grinning, to fall into your arms and lays his head on your shoulder and gives you a big hug…bliss, I tell you.
I am sure it changes as they grow older, I only speak of what I know so far.
Because we are programmed by evolution to like it.
Not everything we like can be rationally explained.
Ask a guy why he likes female breasts. There is no rational reason. He is programmed to like them.
Of course there are some practical benefits to having kids (though they vary from culture to culture):
when you are old and your spouse dies, you have someone; you are not alone in the world.
when you are old your child might help take care of you.
your genes and famiy name live on after you’re gone (which matters to some)
etc
But, having a kid gives such an immense satisfaction and pleasure in the present, so I think this is not due to long-term benefit consderations. It’s because we are just programmed to feel this way. (Of course evolution programs us this way due to the practical benefits)
Well, there’s nothing quite like walking in the door after a long day at work and have your 3 year old yell “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” while jumping up and down and dancing with happiness.
I’ve never in my life had anyone react with such obvious pleasure to be in my presence. Hard to believe, but most people manage to conceal their excitement when I enter the room. Being a father is kind of like being a rock star to one special little person.
I’m curious to see if anyone replies who wishes they never had kids . . . I’m sure it happens, and it would be hard to figure out how often. The statement: “having my kids was such a mistake, I wish they were never born” is not normally well-received.
I don’t deny for a second how strong the love for a child can be, I imagine our instincts are overwhelming in that area. But <playing devil’s advocate> I also feel that if I found myself in the position where I had no choice but to raise this child, and was responsible for another life, I would have to put a positive spin on the experience, out of sheer necessity. Since you’re raising the child whether you like it or not, you might as well make the experience as positive as possible. That is how parents’ endorsements of child-rearing often sound . . . like rationalizations of something really difficult and unpleasant. Sometimes it sounds like they’re trying to convince themselves as much as they are me about how great it is to raise children.
I like the idea of having kids . . . having a little boy to teach and raise and stuff, and having some people to keep me young once I’m old. But I think the reality is too much for me!
Why do parents like having kids? I think it must be like falling in love. I’ve known first time moms who initially become so enamoured of their infant that they ignore their spouse for a couple of months. People generally don’t question why humans want to be in love or be loved - it’s just something that makes us feel good, it’s a basic need. For many people children fulfill this need. Of course, there are people who are not able to fall in love with the children they have. Those children are at quite a disavantage.
There’s a smell too…babies have a fresh odor (when they’re diaper is clean, of course) that’s impossible to describe. It’s the best scent in the world.
Well, I had fairly sucky parents (not to us when we were quite young, but illness and divorce came quickly), and I was scared shitless re being a Mom.
I know I have made mistakes and will make more as they go into adulthood–but UNlike my parents, I have been willing to examine my behavior and change, if needed, but also to share the good with the kids, as well.
Example: my parents have never told me that they loved me. Or that I am pretty or talented or smart or athletic. They are very self-centered people. On my wedding day, the most my mother could come up with was, “you look very nice.” whoopee. When my daughter was born (first grandchild and only grandaughter) she said, after inquiring about my health and baby’s was, “I don’t babysit.” Gee, Mom-seeing as how you live 600 miles away, that point is somewhat moot.
I make a point of telling my kids that I love them and that they are smart etc. Not to extremes, like Indigo kids or whathaveyou, but enough for them to feel good about themselves, I hope.
Anyhoo, all I’m saying is that someone can come from less than ideal circs and still do well at parenting and enjoy it. Sometimes the little kid that is still inside me resents all that my kids have gotten, that I never did. But it is great to break that cycle, and I get alot back from them that they’re not even aware of.
I think there’s something very cool (and to be fair, very, very frightening) about watching a life unfold before your very eyes. I have two, and although they are in some ways alike, I’m sure that all children are as different, in some ways, as snowflakes. They are beautiful. They are full of unquestioning love. To your five or six year old child you will be the most beautiful, smart, handsome, strongest, gentlest person in the world. They are a way to see the world through fresh eyes. They are a reason to take hope in and fear for the future. They are dirty. They are fun. They are work. They are a real life blend and reflection of you and your mate.
It’s not something you can explain in words (though the terribly unromantic side of me thinks Polerius’ description works pretty well. ).
[sappy]It’s just something about the way my daughter came running down into the basement where I was exercising to make sure I saw the goal that the red wings just scored because the reception on the tv in the basement is lousy, or the way she sat there listening as I explained how the Nashville Predators offensive scheme works.
It’s something about the way I feel when my daughter asks me to make her a cherry pie for a christmas present because I make such good pies or when she asks me to make ribs because they are her favorite.
It’s in the way she dressed up with a baseball cap, underwear outside of her pants, and a towel for a cape like she saw on an episode of Phil of the Future.
Parenting is a major pain in the butt sometimes, but you hit those moments sometimes that make you realize exactly why it’s such a great thing.[/sappy]
My youngest is now in college, so I’ve come out the other side of parenting,so I don’t need to convince myself of anything - and I’d do it again in a second (assuming I was younger, of course!)
I third or fourth the experience of pure love when you hold your baby the first time. Yes it is programmed in us, and no, I was not fooling myself. It happened for the second one also.
One great thing about kids is that they take you places you never would have gone without them, since they have interests possibly far from yours. I know way too much about horses thanks to my younger kid (and am much poorer) but I have had the pleasure of seeing her and her horse soar through the air over jumps. And I was brave enough to look. I never would have seen Adam West kit by a stream of creamed corn if it wasn’t for my older daughter. Seeing your kids doing things beyond your abilities is the best feeling in the world. There is also the sense that I’m not the final link in the chain of creatures that started with the first life, that I’ve passed on some of what makes me special just as my parents and grandparents and great grandparents did.
I can’t say that it felt all that great to be a parent until I had warped the little Beetles into fit companions for me. Now they’re my favorite relatives.
Little kids believe anything. Think of the power, Maastricht! keep it up, you guys…I think we’ve nearly convinced her. Soon, she too, will be saddled with burdens like our own…mwahahahaha!
Here’s another instinctual thing about having kids: baby lust. Not everyone gets it by any means, and it’s mostly a woman thing, but I certainly get it very strongly. When I got married, it was like a little switch went on in my brain stem or something–
Brain stem: Okay, that’s it! Let’s have a baby now! Me: What?! I’ve been married a week! And I want to go to grad school! We were going to wait a few years. Brain stem: Nope, baby now!
I managed to beat my brain stem into submission for a few years, but once we decided to start trying, the baby lust went into high gear. It was just this huge longing to be pregnant and have a baby. It’s an overwhelming feeling. Every baby I saw (lots of them, too) made me want to have one of my own. Descriptions of pregnancy could put me in tears just from the strength of it. And once I actually had a baby, and my daughter got to be about a year old, it started again! I had to beat it down again for a year before we were actually ready to try again.
Seriously, you can lose yourself in looking at your baby, smelling her, touching her, all that, for as long as she’ll put up with it. Nursing your own child is this amazing experience, like “My body produced this person almost by itself, and now I can nourish it all on my own too, this is so cool.” Men bond like that too, only a bit differently. It’s very strong. It has to be!
I mean, I’m not trying to downplay the difficult side of parenting. It’s terrifying and a lot of hard work. But it is so worth it, to me. And some of that–though not all by any means–is plain old Nature making me feel that way.
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