"Enjoy Your Kids While They're Young" - bah!

[gurujulp]

@kushiel

Random observation: I’m finding most of the people responding that their kids’ childhoods were the best are fathers, while the mothers are a little more restrained in their responses.

Thinking about that on a larger scale, in society mothers are still expected to be the primary caregivers. I’m wondering if a little bit of this is dads getting to do more fun parts than crappy parts…

I don’t think it is the dads having all the fun…

As primary caregiver for our first daughter until she was about eight, I have to say that it is the outlook that we approach the kiddos with. I see my wife as exactly as was described above- *I *just want to have a decent day, and get through and be alive, having been chill with the bebes and interacted with them, and had a decent time in general, simply sharing space- and/or playing with them if I get the chance. As long as the house isn’t on fire, and we got to eat enough to survive, no big deal.

My wife wants to be able to accomplish things, get the beds changed, the laundry washed, folded, and put away, dinner done and lunch packed for me and daughter 1 for the next day, the dishes done, the groceries put away just so, the changing table stocked right and each thing back in its place, pictures taken, emailed to the right people, and neat enough and clean, hair brushed, ready to look good to skype, and also find time to sleep with the child, as well as be able to make it to the park and/or starbucks.

Even her meals take fifth or sixth place to other things, and I will often come home at 6pm to find her making breakfast for herself, ten hours after she woke up and got out of bed. After getting up twice a night to feed…

I do love the babies, but personally I like the kiddos best at about 4 or five to about seven and eight years old, personally. They have words, meaning a functional vocabulary, and they are literate, and become greatly literate near the end of this period.

I think it is most interesting to be able to talk to them and explore the interesting things that they think and feel. The things are totally odd and each kid seems to invent their own way of looking at the world. They tend to develop an ego and want to lie somewhere around 7.5 or eight, and that gets really old really fast.
They will experiment with boundaries and such earlier, but the lies are laughable.

Then, later, the lies get painful, and horrible, with the kiddos lying about stupid things, and swearing that they did NOT laugh at that grown up joke (they were just coughing!) and even though they were sitting on the couch next to you when they laughed and laughed and laughed, they will go to bed without dinner rather than admit to doing something you watched, heard, and in some cases, videorecorded them doing… Sad.
Sad Sad Sad.

And they know how to hurt you with words, beginning at about the same time. The more you have been involved with the care, the less this tends to hurt, as they have been trying it from an early age- but they begin to be able to pinpoint weaknesses at this time.

Ouch.

But I love the little buggers anyway.

[fessie]

@TokyoPlayer

I see a world of difference between the advice to enjoy your kids, which can be overlooked at times, and the asininity of enjoy every second which isn’t possible in any aspect of life that doesn’t involved unlimited hookers and blow, or so they say.

People have a habit of offering their well-intended advice at the exact moment when hookers and blow are most needed.

When I see a mom who’s clearly HAD IT, I don’t needle her to be grateful for her offspring (who’s busy climbing the shelves at the grocery store or sticking grapes in his ears). I assume that she knows to be grateful, or the little twerp wouldn’t have survived thus far. Instead I give her a sympathetic smile and agree with her “Yep, it’s hard!” Or “Hon, my kids did the exact same thing!” And her shoulders will loosen, she’ll take a deep breath and offer a wobbly smile in return.

[MsWhatsit]

@Happy_Lendervedder

This may be shocking for you to hear, MsWhatsit, but ** Labrador Deceiver** is saying the exact thing you’re saying. He was basically responding to **WhyNot **who said:

Yes, I agree that he was responding to WhyNot. WhyNot said that in her opinion, 3-year-olds are assholes. Labrador Deceiver said that he thinks WhyNot is smoking crack because in his experience, 3-year-olds are little bundles of adorable joy. (OK, technically he said that “he has no idea in holy hell what she is talking about,” which would seem to indicate that he cannot even begin to fathom how someone could have a different experience than he did.)

My point is that some people might think 3-year-olds are assholes and some people might think they’re adorable bundles of joy, and both are right. This is not the exact same thing that Labrador Deceiver was saying.

[Labrador_Deceiver]

@MsWhatsit

This may be shocking for you to hear, but different people have different experiences as parents.

This may be even more shocking for you to hear, but I wasn’t the one who said all 3 and 4-year-olds are a certain way. The poster I responded to did.

Thanks, though.

I said I had no idea what she’s talking about, primarily because anyone who has been around any kids know that no 2 are alike.

Does that help you understand better? I sure hope so.

[Happy_Lendervedder]

Oh I get it, you’re just seeing what you want to see. Labrador was actually less offensive in *his *defense of *his * 3/4 year-old kids than WhyNot was in her statement that all 3/4 year olds are “assholes.”

Love how you have to put words in Labrador’s mouth to try and make a point, but at least you pulled back and re-stated what he “technically” actually said.

[Happy_Lendervedder]

@MsWhatsit

My point is that some people might think 3-year-olds are assholes and some people might think they’re adorable bundles of joy, and both are right. This is not the exact same thing that Labrador Deceiver was saying.

He’s talking about his kids, she’s talking about all kids. Go back and read it.

[raspberry_hunter]

@WhyNot

I think different people enjoy different stages of development, and that’s okay. It makes the other stages more challenging, but we all have our favorite stage, and when the kid isn’t in it anymore, we miss it.

WhyNot, I love this. It is so true.

I got that “Enjoy your baby” thing a lot with my newborn. She had her moments of adorable cuteness, but I didn’t enjoy her very much and I don’t miss it at all. Most of my friends are all “Whaaaaat do you mean? Babies are so cute!!” Not to me. It was such a relief when she started actually figuring things out and becoming a sentient human being.

Now, I think I’m going to miss my two-year-old – I think language acquisition is just about the greatest thing ever, and I enjoy her pretty much all the time right now because she says the cutest things. But I’m sure there are plenty of people who hate it because of the tantrums and “No!” and so on and wish they could have their darling little baby back.

[MsWhatsit]

@Labrador_Deceiver

I said I had no idea what she’s talking about, primarily because anyone who has been around any kids know that no 2 are alike.

Thanks. I misunderstood.

[DoctorJ]

@fessie

People have a habit of offering their well-intended advice at the exact moment when hookers and blow are most needed.

Exactly. In patient encounters this is what I call an empathy block.

In comedy improv, a “block” happens when one person creates a premise (makes an “offer”) and the other person rejects it. The point is that regardless of how good or bad the premise might be, you don’t reject it or modify it substantially; you just go with it and build on it or it brings the scene to a screeching halt.

Similarly, when a doctor sees a patient with a cold, that patient probably feels miserable or he wouldn’t be at the doctor. The worst thing you can say at that moment is something like “oh, it’s just a cold. You’ll be fine in a few days.” It may be true, and it may ultimately be what you want to communicate, but it makes the patient feel worse because he clearly shouldn’t feel as bad as he does. (Or it makes him question the assessment.) “Yeah, I know you feel horrible, but it’s just a cold and you’ll be fine” doesn’t work either–you might be acknowledging how the patient feels, but you’re not really accepting it.

First you have to uncritically and unreservedly accept the premise that the patient has something that makes him feel horrible. “There’s a lot of this going around. It really is making people feel lousy. I had some of it last week myself, and it was rough.” Once you’ve established that this sucks and it’s OK to feel like this sucks, THEN you can go on to explain that it’s a virus (not “just a virus”) and it will have to run its course.

Most frazzled parents I know relish every bit of adult conversation they can muster, and appreciate the chance to vent to people who might understand how tough it is. Even if you feel like that’s a good time to remind her that she should be enjoying every magical moment of this magical age, you really should accept the way she feels first.

[fessie]

@DoctorJ

Exactly. In patient encounters this is what I call an empathy block.

In comedy improv, a “block” happens when one person creates a premise (makes an “offer”) and the other person rejects it. The point is that regardless of how good or bad the premise might be, you don’t reject it or modify it substantially; you just go with it and build on it or it brings the scene to a screeching halt.

Yep, it’s all about “Yes…And”

(I just happen to have strong ties to Improv ;))

I’m glad to hear you’re a doctor.

[fessie]

Today was much, MUCH better BTW

[TokyoBayer]

@kushiel

I think mothers have more pressure on them because they are expected to be the one closest to the children. A woman who decides to have a child and then have the father be the primary caregiver while she climbs the corporate ladder with long nights and business trips is considered cold and a bad mother while a man that does the same thing is considered to be the usual. So there’s more guilt for working mothers.

I asked my wife about this this morning, because of the thread and the coincidence of her talking yesterday about feeling guilty because our 17-month-old-son “Didi” is going through a phase where he wants me and only me. But no one would think twice when a child is that vocal about her preference for the mother, and I think that fathers tend to feel more disappointed than guilty.

It’s crystal clear how different society views us and the expectations on us. On the bus, if on of the kids are crying and Mommy has them, she gets dirty looks, where as I get looks of sympathy. A vast majority of mothers of young kids in Japan are stay at home, and fathers tend to not be as involved as in the States, so anytime I do anything with or for the kids, people’s reactions are like wow, whereas if my wife does exactly the same thing, it’s just her being a mother.

My wife says that if something wrong were to happen to the children, she feels that society would judge her harder.

I consider my brother to be more involved than most working fathers but I still see a dividing line set by society. He’s the one who will do a late night run for diapers and rash cream, but my sis-in-law tells him what brands and she shows him how to apply the cream because it’s assumed as mommy she knows best (and learned first).

A book I read by a child counselor who had been a stay-at-home-daddy makes this point, that even among involved fathers, there often is a tendency to default to the mother. It takes conscious effort to overcome that tendency.

@Dangerosa

His expectation was spend the day with kids, keep the house from getting condemned. Hers was raise kids who are bilingual while having a wholesome dinner on the table each night when my husband walks in, and keeping a house that would make Martha Stewart proud. And in my spare time I’ll garden, quilt and cure cancer.

I think so. Other people have mentioned this as well. On nights my wife cooks dinner, I play with the kids during that time and on nights I’m cooking, she tends to want to try to get housework done.

@Labrador_Deceiver

I said I had no idea what she’s talking about, primarily because anyone who has been around any kids know that no 2 are alike.

The follow-up leaves me confused, because she really isn’t talking about just her kids, but as a professional babysitter and she specifically is generalizing it.

I would have to think that a good percentage of the kids a babysitter tends are in the three to four range, and with that view of the kids, it would have to be a very trying situation for everyone involved.

[WhyNot]

I apologize that my use of hyperbole while sharing what was intended to be lighthearted, vulgar, observational “oh-no-she-di’int say that” humor to validate and empathize with a fellow mother’s experiences was confusing.

[Dangerosa]

@DoctorJ

Exactly. In patient encounters this is what I call an empathy block.

In comedy improv, a “block” happens when one person creates a premise (makes an “offer”) and the other person rejects it. The point is that regardless of how good or bad the premise might be, you don’t reject it or modify it substantially; you just go with it and build on it or it brings the scene to a screeching halt.

Similarly, when a doctor sees a patient with a cold, that patient probably feels miserable or he wouldn’t be at the doctor. The worst thing you can say at that moment is something like “oh, it’s just a cold. You’ll be fine in a few days.” It may be true, and it may ultimately be what you want to communicate, but it makes the patient feel worse because he clearly shouldn’t feel as bad as he does. (Or it makes him question the assessment.) “Yeah, I know you feel horrible, but it’s just a cold and you’ll be fine” doesn’t work either–you might be acknowledging how the patient feels, but you’re not really accepting it.

First you have to uncritically and unreservedly accept the premise that the patient has something that makes him feel horrible. “There’s a lot of this going around. It really is making people feel lousy. I had some of it last week myself, and it was rough.” Once you’ve established that this sucks and it’s OK to feel like this sucks, THEN you can go on to explain that it’s a virus (not “just a virus”) and it will have to run its course.

Most frazzled parents I know relish every bit of adult conversation they can muster, and appreciate the chance to vent to people who might understand how tough it is. Even if you feel like that’s a good time to remind her that she should be enjoying every magical moment of this magical age, you really should accept the way she feels first.

One big difference is that when, as a doctor, you pass the empathy block, your patient still wants advice. “lots of liquids, spend a day or two in bed, and get the good stuff from the pharmacist for that runny nose, not the stuff on the shelf.”

When you are a parent, past the empathy block you really don’t want advice from strangers, just the empathy. The “I remember and mine turned out ok and I lived - some weeks there were days between showers, but I lived.” Not the “oh, I remember, and what you should do is just leave the store if she throws a tantrum” Or, “Its so hard…and you should treasure this because it goes so fast.”

[Labrador_Deceiver]

@WhyNot

I apologize that my use of hyperbole while sharing what was intended to be lighthearted, vulgar, observational “oh-no-she-di’int say that” humor to validate and empathize with a fellow mother’s experiences was confusing.

I appreciated that you were using hyperbole, but wanted to demonstrate that there are those of us who have had dramatically different experiences with that age group. I was more than a little surprised, though, when I was the one accused of painting with a broad brush.

Anyway, it’s all been cleared up, and with a minimum of shots fired. I’d say that’s pretty good for a parenting thread.

[WhyNot]

@Labrador_Deceiver

Anyway, it’s all been cleared up, and with a minimum of shots fired. I’d say that’s pretty good for a parenting thread.

Amen!

[aerodave]

I always took the “enjoy 'em while they’re young” saying to be not a reflection of their superior likability as babies and toddlers…but as a statement about the fleeting nature of their development. We change slower and slower as we age, that’s no secret. Your adult child will be substantially the same person next week, next month, next year. There’s not a huge amount of urgency to stop and savor those moments of everyday magic. But young kids really do change in the blink of an eye. If you miss the chance to appreciate them for what they are right now, you don’t get it back; that person will be gone before you know it. That’s not to say that every moment is pure awesome, or that the bulk of the experience is necessarily better than it will be when they’re older. It just means that whatever is good about the early stages lasts only for a very short time.

I’m seeing that now with my 8-month-old. Of course infants change faster than anyone, so none of this is surprising. But it’s astounding how his 7-month-old self is already becoming unrecognizeable, and his 9-month-old self is hard to imagine.

I can take a mental snapshot of what he’s like today: top teeth just starting starting to peek out in the top of his smile; getting so close to figuring out how to crawl, but doesn’t really know what to do if he accidentally gets his butt in the air; loves to chomp on everything he can get his hands on except those dissolving ceral puffs, the dry solidity of which freaks him out.

But that snapshot is good for a week, tops. By the end of the month, he’ll be toothier, he might be scooting or crawling, and he might finally realize how tasty those cereal puffs are. The little boy I know at this moment and dropped off at daycare this morning will be a faint memory in less time than it takes to go through a jumbo box of Huggies. So if I don’t stop and smell the roses, as it were, I’m gonna miss a lot of those little stages.

[astorian]

@aerodave

I always took the “enjoy 'em while they’re young” saying to be not a reflection of their superior likability as babies and toddlers…but as a statement about the fleeting nature of their development. We change slower and slower as we age, that’s no secret. Your adult child will be substantially the same person next week, next month, next year. There’s not a huge amount of urgency to stop and savor those moments of everyday magic. But young kids really do change in the blink of an eye. If you miss the chance to appreciate them for what they are right now, you don’t get it back; that person will be gone before you know it. That’s not to say that every moment is pure awesome, or that the bulk of the experience is necessarily better than it will be when they’re older. It just means that whatever is good about the early stages lasts only for a very short time.

I’m seeing that now with my 8-month-old. Of course infants change faster than anyone, so none of this is surprising. But it’s astounding how his 7-month-old self is already becoming unrecognizeable, and his 9-month-old self is hard to imagine.

I can take a mental snapshot of what he’s like today: top teeth just starting starting to peek out in the top of his smile; getting so close to figuring out how to crawl, but doesn’t really know what to do if he accidentally gets his butt in the air; loves to chomp on everything he can get his hands on except those dissolving ceral puffs, the dry solidity of which freaks him out.

But that snapshot is good for a week, tops. By the end of the month, he’ll be toothier, he might be scooting or crawling, and he might finally realize how tasty those cereal puffs are. The little boy I know at this moment and dropped off at daycare this morning will be a faint memory in less time than it takes to go through a jumbo box of Huggies. So if I don’t stop and smell the roses, as it were, I’m gonna miss a lot of those little stages.

That’s always been how I interpreted the truism… but I guess it all depends on who’s saying it and when.

MOST proverbs, adages and truisms endure for a reason: there’s common sense and truth to them.

But if you repeat one of those truisms at the wrong time, you’re liable to get a blank stare, a resentful “What the hell is THAT supposed to mean,” or a sarcastic, “Oh, thanks for the words of wisdom, Socrates.”

If a toddler is throwing a tantrum, and his poor, teary-eyed young mother is at the end of her rope (I’ve been there!), it’s not helpful to tell her “You have to enjoy every moment at this age.” That’s meaningless at best, probably annoying, and may even inspire a guilt trip (“What’s wrong with me, that I’m NOT loving every moment with this kid?”). THAT’S a time to ask if she needs a hand or some practical assistance- not to offer what will seem like silly cliches.

On the other hand, when that mother is experiencing a happy, tender moment with her toddler, THAT may be a good time to tell her, “Moments like these are wonderful and precious. Enjoy them, because it’s only a matter of time before the kid is on to a new phase, with brand NEW joys and challenges.”

Kids grow up on their own schedule, not on ours. So IF, for instance, you’ve been telling yourself for ages, “One of these days, I’m going to take them to Disney World,” well, just remember that, if you wait too long, they’ll grow up to the point where Disney World sounds way too baby-ish… or like a place that would be much more fun to go to with friends than with you.

[fessie]

@astorian

On the other hand, when that mother is experiencing a happy, tender moment with her toddler, THAT may be a good time to tell her, “Moments like these are wonderful and precious. Enjoy them, because it’s only a matter of time before the kid is on to a new phase, with brand NEW joys and challenges.”

Yes, and — mommies are already full of guilt. FULL of it. We know we’re inadequate, it’s a given. Babies are infinite, we are not.

I just wonder at the advisability of giving people advice when the advice is meeting the giver’s needs, and not the recipient’s.

Mommies are already overwhelmed with emotions. Nothing more needs to be heaped on.

[CrazyCatLady]

@aerodave

Your adult child will be substantially the same person next week, next month, next year. There’s not a huge amount of urgency to stop and savor those moments of everyday magic.

Well, that’s assuming you’ll get to see your kid next week, next month, next year. If you live far enough apart, or you’ve lost enough people prematurely, or if one of you is in poor enough health, you don’t make those kinds of assumptions and those little moments become very precious and savor-worthy indeed. If you don’t feel an urgency to savor little moments with your adult family, count your blessings.