There’s an entire Freudian premise about this issue that posits that parents are jealous of their children. Their youth and apparent comparatively greater free will options, specifically.
For you, all day. 
(I really could go on all day but I promise not to. Besides, the borstplaat doesn’t make itself).
I am painting with a broad brush here, of course and there are lots of exceptions and so on. Nevertheless I think it is fair to say that if we look at the family as a dynamic social entity, children are in this place at this time often not really considered to be family members. Where children were once an asset, they are now clearly a liability. Their existence seems to me to be vital to how we define a family, but if you look at how families actually function, well, what role do they have? What could they possibly give back that their parents might need?
I think this phenomenon increases as we increasingly embrace individualistic notions of power and the self and reject community notions. And my own sense is that overwhelmingly parents think of their role as far more all encompassing than was ever previously the case. I also think that conversely, kids think of their role (and consequently their power) as more limited than before – in terms of their family that is.
Obviously, I have a position: I am for rearing of children in an extended family (blood or recruitment, doesn’t matter to me). I think it’s healthier for everybody and I don’t see how our current model is sustainable, much less healthy.
That seems like a valid theory, Marienee. People often say that kids were better behaved back in the days of corporal punishment. Now, first of all, they weren’t angels, but at any rate, in those days (and assuming we’re talking about pre-1950), children were called upon to contribute more to the household, let alone the community. Knowing that your contribution mattered not only made them more of a team player, it gave them pride in themselves. Nowadays, it’s what you said, and I can’t entirely blame kids who think, consciously or unconsciously, that what they do doesn’t matter either way.
BTW, are you Dutch too?
I was intensely afraid of having children. I put it off for a very very long time, despite my wife really wanting to start having kids. I came up with a hundred reasons why we shouldn’t. (We could use the money on other things, we could spend more time together doing fun stuff… so on and so forth). Mostly it all came to the desire to have my own time all my own, and not consumed by this leech. Secondary concerns about screwing up this life for good and so on were also issues.
I am now the father of a 13 month old. I care not one wit about what I have given up. I couldn’t imagine loving the little guy any more. We even have a second on the way (due in March.)
I know that there are tough times ahead. I’m currently in the fun stage of babydom. I have yet to encounter the terrible twos, or teenage years. But I am really looking forward to all of it.
13 months in, I can’t possibly see anything that could happen to where I would ever secretly or overtly despite my child.
What you’re saying is that it takes a village, right?
I agree that in our urban societies of today, with families split by hundreds or tens of thousands of kilometers (our case, we’re basically alone here, and sometimes I am alone with my daughter), it’s hard to raise kids. There is no relief, nobody else. Kids think that the way it’s done at home it’s the only way. Which might lead to kids that are less inclined to tolerance, even of their own parents.
Hmm… did that make any sense? It did in my head.
No, I am all american. My husband is Dutch and my kids are, too, to varying degrees, as we live in the south of holland now. Lately I have been wondering how this theory of mine fits in Holland, but I have only been here three years so I cannot say that my observations are accurate enough to work it out. It appears to me that something very powerful has happened in the last little while in Holland (culturally speaking) which has radically change cultural notions about family and community but I haven’t fleshed it out yet.
I mean there is one obvious candidate, to wit, a certain war and accompanying occupation and famine of course. But I have a feeling it was what happened after that, and the development of what they call the poldermodel which is at the heart of the change. But the greatest stabilizing factor, it seems to me, is that all of Dutch culture is (on so many levels, too, it’s great fun to think about) informed by awareness of the Looming Sea. The fundamental fact of Dutch life is this: if the dykes go, all able bodied dutch guys must run as fast as they can towards the dykes, and not away from them as any sane person would do. Or there will be no Holland.
in any event, I haven’t worked out the application of my Universal Theory to Holland yet.
Well, I am saying that it’s a lot easier with a village – both for the kids and for the parents. The problem is, this requires a certain degree of power sharing and that is precisely what people become less and less willing to do – from both sides. People are less willing to allow others to have power over/influence on their kids; and people are less willing to take that on, to really commit to kids as people.
There is indeed no relief for parents: there is also no one to whom it really matters what the kids do other than their parents and (later) their peers.
YES!
For me, this is amplified 'cause I chose to start breeding at 17. While I intellectually understood that this meant I was choosing to give up things like backpacking across Europe, going to parties on a moment’s notice, living in a dorm and sleeping in on weekends, it’s not something I really understood emotionally. Nor did I understand that I’d lose more than opportunities - I’d lose friends and relationships as well, and future relationships (especially with interesting yet childless people) would always be more difficult to maintain. There’s only so many times you can decline people’s invitations - because you don’t have a babysitter, or because you’re tired from chasing toddlers all day, or because you actually like spending time with your kids - before they decide you don’t like them or you’re not worth the effort. So they stop calling, and that’s more isolation.*
Does this mean I despise my kids? No, not as people. My son is the sweetest most compassionate person I’ve ever met, and my daughter is a riot. I adore them, and wish every one of you could experience the joy of meeting them. I don’t despise them, nor am I jealous of them, nor do I resent them, but I do, sometimes, resent the limitations that being responsible for them brings into my life.
Touche. Yeah, I was in a hurry writing that, trying to paint a picture and it was a little more on the nose than I intended. He’s human, and he’s frustrated when dinner isn’t ready when I said it would be. He *is *a great guy, but he can also be an asshat. Since the same is true of myself, I wouldn’t expect anything different of anyone else.
Marienee, I absolutely agree with all of your points. As my children become more able to contribute in meaningful ways (that is, are an actual help, instead of “toddler help” which takes even more energy to arrange and clean up after), they feel more and more like full fledged family members, rather than my lords and masters. And as I develop reciprocal relationships with other families, I can both receive and provide relief, whether it be outright babysitting, moral support, or having difficult conversations with my teenaged goddaughters that they’re unwilling to have with their parents.
*There’s a reason I love this message board and I’m on here so often, folks. Y’all are my lifeline to other adults who I can relate to on my terms and in my spare moments. You won’t get insulted if I stop posting for a few days, if I have to sign off in the middle of a conversation or if my kid is pulling on my shirt and talking to me while you and I are “talking.”
I take it from this that you don’t have kids yourself? Not a criticism, just a clarification.
“Raising” children is the process of making them individuals, of shaping and nurturing the process. If one “hates” raising one’s own children I doubt one would like the end product any better, unless by extreme luck they hang out a lot at a friend’s house whose parents are people you get along with a lot.
When my first child was born I can remember feeling like my life’s purpose had been made much, much clearer. If I could see to it that this little girl grew up healthy, happy and smart, a net plus to mankind, and could feel proud that she looked at me with the same love in her eyes as I felt in my heart, nothing else would matter. At the same time, if I failed at that due to my own negligence, whatever else I achieved in life would not matter.
What I AM truly sick and tired of is this:
The immolation of women (and men) at the altar of motherhood (and fatherhood). Parents are people too–we should not have to subsume our lives in order to rear children. Too often this is done nowadays, IMO.
Marienne–has it half right (and she is very right about her half–I agree with her). The other half of that “no village” being there is this cult of the child, and I’m not just talking about Indigo children here. Kids are catered to, cocooned, coddled far too much today than what is healthy, IMO. Don’t want the little one to cry at the end of the story? Change the ending so the the wolf doesn’t die. Or better yet, don’t read those “violent” fairy tales to kids at all. The goldfish doesn’t die, it goes to sleep; put a pillowcase over the heating vent to prevent the monsters (thereby validating that monsters exist) from getting in. I am feeling old and crotchey today, but my God–kids today are in an endless stream of feel-good-always-never-suffer-hurts-have-this-toy/food/experience-to-keep-you-perpetually-smiling. And then we wonder why and how they grow into selfish, self-absorbed Barbie or Ken dolls. It makes me see red.
And let’s make them all into lil smartasses, who seem to know more than the adults! While it’s true that often kids DO know more about the undercurrents of a family’s emotional life than anyone will ever give them credit for, this approach to kids is not good for anyone. Back talk may seem cute from your 15 month old, but it’s not cute when she’s 7 or 12 or 15.
Kids want to contribute to the family, to their community, to their life. They will only learn to take risks when they have achieved enough confidence within themselves to learn that risk-taking can be good and productive etc. Kids I see today (and I include my kids in here somewhat) are so passive–they wait for others to do for them. I had a nine year old ask me to open the door the other day. I looked at this healthy, able child and said, you can open the door! Good god. I live in Yuppyworld and I swear that often, these kids are seen as fashion accessories for their parents, not as real people at all.
I’m not about to say I fear for the future of the world or anything like that and I certainly DON’T want to go back to “seen and not heard” days. Kids were treated very badly throughout most of history, but we need to get them off the pedestals (where WE put them) and make them an integral part of the family again. That means treating adult with respect (NOT the same as respecting all adults), manners, chores, consequences, and yes, material “deprivation”–poverty is not not having a high def TV for godsake!
Ok, rant over.
I have three sons, all of whom I love deeply and would kill or die for.
That said, I do have a lot more moments of frustration with my youngest, who is 9. He has severe ADHD, and some days it seems like everything he does, he messes up. I envision myself as his personal maid, coming behind him every step with my little broom and dustpan- literally and figuratively. He has a hard time at school, he has a hard time with friends, he has impulse and anger problems… he’s kind of a mess. Sometimes I feel myself resenting him, wishing that he were different, more like his older brothers, but I would never say that I despise him. No- his wonderful sense of humor, the way he’s so affectionate and loving… those are his saving graces. If he didn’t have these and other excellent character traits to make up for his deficits, I still couldn’t see myself despising any child I’ve raised. When I do feel the resentment towards him creeping up, I make sure to grit my teeth and hug him and tell him how much I love him, and I remind both of us that he’s a wonderful person. That helps me and it helps him.
Wow, this is really insightful. It’s the kind of response I was hoping for when I posted this thread. As someone who is studying to be a teacher, I also think there’s something to this as well:
I was raised by my mother alone, in a conservative Amish community, though obviously I’m not Amish. I was astonished to discover, when I reached high school, that most of my peers never washed/folded their own clothes, nor ever cooked their own food. By that point in time I was doing all that plus sewing rips in my own clothes and replacing buttons! It wasn’t that my mother was so tough, it was just a matter of necessity; she couldn’t be there to do everything, so I had to make do. I still tend to see encouraging that level of self-sufficiency in kids as normal, but when I describe it to other people they either think I’m outright nuts, or just act like it’s “unrealistic.”
Regarding your second quote/point, I think this is also affecting education too. When I go into schools I see teachers or future teachers who don’t want to engage with kids as individuals, which you note. I think the reasons are really complex, but the first part–apart parents unwilling to let go and trust anyone else–is in the mix somewhere. It’s also tied in with the lack of respect teachers get compared to the past, and with how much faster kids grow up now. But more importantly, it might be something inherent with with the requirement to risk one’s own emotions to get close to a child enough to help him. I wonder if anyone is as willing to do that today.
I think kids need much more of a defined role in society than they’ve been given. I’ve never realized it before, but you’re right to say they really don’t have something to do, and as a result, have become a liability. They can’t work the farm, they can’t (usually) get a job–they just consume. (Not that they deserve to be blamed for that) What is the ultimate outcome of this?
No, I don’t have children, but I do feel my biological clock ticking. I’m also VERY scared of actually having kids of my own. This is a paradox, as I am undertaking a career switch to education, where I will be working with kids all day long, and I know I enjoy doing that. I recognize the feeling you describe, about your purpose becoming clearer, because that is how I feel when I’m tutoring a kid or just helping him out. Their problems are so easily handled, from my perspective, but I can tell the advice or help I’m giving them is something they may just not ever get from anyone else if not from me. Why don’t I feel that way about having kids of my own, is a question I’m wrestling with.
Secretly?
Another here who is raising a child, nominally on my own.
Nominally because I moved closer to my family for support. The mutual admiration society between my kid and the rest of my family gives me the objectivity to like them all a little better, no matter how much they drive me crazy (and I’m certain that goes both ways).
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, because it’s true.
I didn’t want kids - this wasn’t planned.
Best damned surprise I ever had.
With all the frustrations and and hard work, she gives my life meaning and structure and most of all fun. And I say this after several days of cleaning up vomit!
I agree with you; I think it’s all part of the same thing. But here’s the thing: If the purpose of parenting is that one individual (or maybe two, max) is entirely responsible for:
then the cult of the child is going to spring up for a large number of people. and in a lot of families a very peculiar dynamic is going to spring up.
I am not picking on robardin, or at least I am not trying to. Believing that after all does not mean that any individual would join up in the cult of the child, as you put it. I think she is normal and I am not, because I think this is a very good statement of what a number of people think (to the extent they think of it at all) parenting is.
I do not think any of that is my role at all, as my children’s mother.
But setting both of us aside, it seems to me that this definition of parenting, on a large scale, leads to unreasonable demands on both parents and children. Which leads to a certain amount of both resentment and denial.
I think the Plain People generally (damn, I have my whole arsenal of broad brushes out tonight) have any number of things wrong. But historically their notion of what parenting is, is certainly throughly thought out and has its points going for it. It is interesting that the very basis of that parenting which results in very self sufficient people from a very young age is not helping children to be individuals. It is helping the individuals they inevitably are to function within the group.
Now, in fairness, there is also danger in taking up the notion of self sufficiency and contributing to the family/community too eagerly. There is a very special kind of twistedness which results from having had too much responsibility too soon. You can come out hard on the other side of strong.
Ah, see, that’s part of the problem. Children have radar for two things: when you’re trying to talk on the phone, and when you’re trying to have sex. These activities generate imperceptible energy signatures which will wake kids from sleep, draw them from play, and compel them to find you and pester you incessantly. So whenever you call, it will by definition be a bad time, and you’ll hear the most frustration and fatigue.
I kid, but only kind of. Nothing pushes my buttons like my four year old, who I’ve told 199 times not to interrupt me on the phone, shoves her face into mine, demanding, “Who is it? Who is it? WHO IS IT?!”
Parenting is very tough emotionally because it is so incessant and relentless. Marienee makes some excellent points - if we tended to raise kids in an extended family or small village environment, where they had lots of playmates and lots of potential guardians, it would make things a lot easier. A gorgeous suburban home that is a wonderful bastion of privacy for a married couple can quickly become a solitary confinement prison for a parent.
My daughter is fantastic, and I love her to pieces; we definitely made the right choice to have her. That doesn’t prevent me from being VERY ready for full-day, five-day-a-week kindergarten to start in July. This is largely because we have come to a temperament mismatch - she needs a lot of stimulation and companionship, and cannot play by herself, while I find preschool level play unbearably wearing, and start to feel like I’m living with a psychic vampire. We will both be happier when we have time apart each day, and coming back together can be occasion for happiness and reconnection.
For what it’s worth, I did secretly despise her at first. My emotions toward my daughter from her birth were roughly:
- Disconnected amazement
- Tremendous responsibility and protectiveness; but soon coupled with
- Hatred (I had PPD and was trying to nurse with bleeding nipples)
- Back to just feeling responsible
- Over the first few months, a growing relationship, sense of love, and bonding.
and I thought I was the worst person in the world, because you’re *supposed *to have that magical bonding experience in the delivery room, and feel beatific adoration for your new baby right away. Except later I discovered that some people have that experience, and some don’t, and it’s perfectly OK and natural to grow into loving your kid.
Anyway, to end on a light note, I’d like to quote Music for Aardvarks:
Well, if you’d like to be a grump,
that’s OK
But could you be a-grumpy
kind of further away?
It’s not that I don’t love you
Cuz you know I do
Sometimes I’m grumpy too.
I think you’re right that we don’t really have a good template for parenting these days; raising kids is a job for at least 3 people, really, and our entire society shoves us to raise children in an atomized, separated way. We move away from our extended families, our neighborhoods are full of strangers we have never gotten to know well, and in any case American culture emphasizes values and ideals that are terrible for children.
As we get wealthier, these problems of separation become worse; upper-middle class culture places huge importance on having everything together and not needing help in any way. The houses are farther apart, no one feels comfortable asking a neighbor for a cup of sugar (let alone confessing that they need a friend or that their child is unhappy), and everyone feels that they have to look good all the time in every way. All of this is extremely bad for families.
Then of course there are the aspects of modern poverty that work to destroy families, but I’ll save that for another day.
In any case, one huge problem I see is that of our current mass culture. Once upon a time, a given society worked to raise children by providing a general atmosphere of culture; there were commonly held values that most adults espoused and demonstrated. A child whose parents didn’t function well usually had some other adults to step in and fill part of the job. Now, parents spend large amounts of time trying to keep chunks of our culture out of their homes and to work counter to it, and to the extent that they succeed their children are better off. When parents can’t trust the rest of society to help out, their job becomes much more difficult and lonely.
It is certainly possible to create a cultural atmosphere like that for an individual family, but it doesn’t just happen. Parents have to figure out some way to get it, and then work for it. And it takes a big investment of time and emotional energy that many folks just don’t feel they have (though it also has big payoffs in those areas). It requires that you invest in other children and families–for years at a time, even after your kids are grown–and take some responsibility for them too.
I suppose it comes down to the fact that we’re primitive human beings trying to figure out how to live in modern society, which we aren’t really meant for. It’s a whole new way of living that has grown up in just a few generations, and we aren’t prepared at all, we have no idea how to go about it.
I think you’re doing a lot of “ah, those were the good old days” thinking here. When were these times when children whose parents didn’t function had other adults stepping in? And how much of the “general atmosphere of culture” was simply a matter of incredible pressure to conform coupled with a limited number of cultural backgrounds?