So many of us look at parenthood like this, in the before and after sense; we long for the freedom we once had, and we brag about the new things we see every day. Those who listen to or read us think there is some kind of trade-off, that we give something up and get something else in return. This is true, of course, but it is also misleading in that it implies a kind of equality exists between that which is given and that which is received. While I am acutely aware of my own ability to be incorrect – I am reminded of this daily – I have to say that I find no balance between what I have lost (certain freedoms, social opportunities, even career goals, to name a few) and what I have gained. In fact, looking back at the life I left behind to become a daddy of two, I can only say that the man in that picture seems somehow incomplete. He is, pardon the cliché, less of a man.
And, like any event or series of events that lead to what we call true wisdom, only the actual experience of a phenomenon can lead to an understanding of it, and that experience, and therefore our understanding, is almost never complete. It grows and changes until we no longer exist to perceive it, and there is no observation from the other side of the glass that can give the observer anything that even approaches knowledge. Dive in, or don’t. There are no dry experts.
Which leads me to my point. I have friends of all kinds; single, married, somewhere in between, with kids, without. One of them said to me the other day “I don’t want kids. Too much work.” Then she went on to talk about how her social life would be hampered by a child. Her social life is very important to her. I grinned, considered her statement for a moment, and then dismissed it. I know I’m not supposed to do this, that her opinion should hold a certain kind of value, that I was being rude in my belief that she knew absolutely nothing about the subject, but that didn’t stop me. I smiled and gave the obligatory “Well, that’s your choice to make,” but I was thinking something else entirely, and I will share it with you and all my childless friends and acquaintances right now:
Have children. Don’t have children. It is completely up to you. However, please understand that the choice between the meager freedoms allowed to those without do not compare in any meaningful way to the pure joy I feel several hundred times a day. You may fear the responsibility, and well you should. You may fear the change, as it is in our natures to do so. You may even fear the work, trivial as that fear may be. Just don’t tell me that club-hopping and career advancement, or any of the other petty freedoms, belong anywhere near this discussion. Doing this is nothing short pure narcissism, and only in a time and place as off-kilter as this time and place could anyone make such a lame comparison. I am, right now and until the day I die, engaging in the most important expression of my humanity that I will ever have the opportunity to experience. You can go to a bar whenever you want.I’m afraid I just don’t see the comparison. Speak of fear and I will listen. Speak of convenience and I will not.






