Awesome stuff. As a parent, staying present is one of the hardest things to do. We all seem to want our kids to grow up so fast, to do this and that, we miss what is right in front of us.
Even in conversations when my wife and I first found out we were expecting, I kept hearing about how hard it was going to be, how aggravating the kid would be, how this next season of life was sure to be awful.
Here’s how it usually goes down, and I share this from experience.
Your wife is expecting. “This is going to be pretty exciting,” you say.
They say, “You just wait.” You just wait, because you won’t be getting any sleep once that baby’s born. It’s all over. It gets harder. It gets worse.
Your baby is fun. You think it’s hilarious how he’s amused by one particular stuffed dog above all other toys.
They say, “You just wait.” Just wait, because when that kid is toddling around, pulling down the curtains and getting into stuff, you can’t look away for a second. It gets harder. It gets worse.
Your toddler is a blast. Everything is new and wonderful to her, from puppies to repeatedly crashing towers of blocks. She laughs all the time and wants you to “Do again!”
They say, “You just wait.” Just wait, because when your kid starts really talking, you’ll get tired of that sassy mouth. You’ll wish she was still a year old. It gets harder. It gets worse.
Your elementary-age kid is an absolute joy. You can take him swimming, play catch with him, and teach him hilarious end-zone dances to amuse your friends.
They say, “You just wait.” Just wait until he’s a teenager, because he’ll learn how much he doesn’t like you and won’t want to have anything to do with you no matter what. He’ll eat everything, and you’ll get tired of him and want him out of the house as soon as possible. It gets harder. It gets worse.
Your teenager is fascinating. You can’t get enough of him. He makes you laugh because, well, you saddled him with your exact sense of humor. You get to play video games with him. He beats you at chess, sometimes twenty times in a row. He fills your home with music, first with a screeching sound that, months later, becomes recognizably melodic, and then with the sweetness of Bach on violin. He mows the lawn—not always happily, but he does it. You catch him listening to your favorite bands in his room. He says things that you never thought about before. He grows taller than you.
They say, “You just wait.” Just wait until he moves away, because your heart will break in two. And for once, for the very first time ever . . . They’re right.
What a great commentary, thank you for sharing. This hits home.
As someone who transitioned into being a full-time parent, I've never understood the stigma, the lack of respect or even understanding for those who rear children. There is this understanding that we take on this work begrudgingly, that children are destroyers of time and sleep and adulthood liberties, that we have no lives and no productive value compared to those who toil from 9-5.
But what could be more important, more fulfilling than raising the future generation, the next iteration of human beings set to inherit the world we leave them?
Awesome stuff. As a parent, staying present is one of the hardest things to do. We all seem to want our kids to grow up so fast, to do this and that, we miss what is right in front of us.
100%
Just came across this and it nails it:
Parenting gets a bad rap in pop culture.
Even in conversations when my wife and I first found out we were expecting, I kept hearing about how hard it was going to be, how aggravating the kid would be, how this next season of life was sure to be awful.
Here’s how it usually goes down, and I share this from experience.
Your wife is expecting. “This is going to be pretty exciting,” you say.
They say, “You just wait.” You just wait, because you won’t be getting any sleep once that baby’s born. It’s all over. It gets harder. It gets worse.
Your baby is fun. You think it’s hilarious how he’s amused by one particular stuffed dog above all other toys.
They say, “You just wait.” Just wait, because when that kid is toddling around, pulling down the curtains and getting into stuff, you can’t look away for a second. It gets harder. It gets worse.
Your toddler is a blast. Everything is new and wonderful to her, from puppies to repeatedly crashing towers of blocks. She laughs all the time and wants you to “Do again!”
They say, “You just wait.” Just wait, because when your kid starts really talking, you’ll get tired of that sassy mouth. You’ll wish she was still a year old. It gets harder. It gets worse.
Your elementary-age kid is an absolute joy. You can take him swimming, play catch with him, and teach him hilarious end-zone dances to amuse your friends.
They say, “You just wait.” Just wait until he’s a teenager, because he’ll learn how much he doesn’t like you and won’t want to have anything to do with you no matter what. He’ll eat everything, and you’ll get tired of him and want him out of the house as soon as possible. It gets harder. It gets worse.
Your teenager is fascinating. You can’t get enough of him. He makes you laugh because, well, you saddled him with your exact sense of humor. You get to play video games with him. He beats you at chess, sometimes twenty times in a row. He fills your home with music, first with a screeching sound that, months later, becomes recognizably melodic, and then with the sweetness of Bach on violin. He mows the lawn—not always happily, but he does it. You catch him listening to your favorite bands in his room. He says things that you never thought about before. He grows taller than you.
They say, “You just wait.” Just wait until he moves away, because your heart will break in two. And for once, for the very first time ever . . . They’re right.
Brent Hansen
What a great commentary, thank you for sharing. This hits home.
As someone who transitioned into being a full-time parent, I've never understood the stigma, the lack of respect or even understanding for those who rear children. There is this understanding that we take on this work begrudgingly, that children are destroyers of time and sleep and adulthood liberties, that we have no lives and no productive value compared to those who toil from 9-5.
But what could be more important, more fulfilling than raising the future generation, the next iteration of human beings set to inherit the world we leave them?