Over the weekend, film director Duncan Jones had a little something to say about parenting which resonated, for better and for worse, with a lot of social media. As of this writing, the initial tweet has garnered more than 18,000 likes, but it also garnered its fair share of users responding in disagreement.
This is where people feel compelled to say “i wouldn’t change it for the world!”
But you know… Of course I’d reconsider!
It’s exhausting! Its banal! It’s like looking after a dog you can’t housetrain.
What it is, is that it is.
& they are mine.
Hopefully they turn out ok.— Duncan Jones (@ManMadeMoon) January 12, 2019
I have to say, while I too fundamentally disagree with what Jones said — having babies is anything but “not a good choice in life” — I also empathized with what sounds like a really exhausted, if not selfish, parent.
Many commented that Jones appeared narcissistic and pointed out he was missing the joy of being a father. Both of these things are true. He said kids “are exhausting, frustrating & life-destabilizing. They are rarely fun.” At the age his children are right now, a baby and a toddler, this also seems true from his very limited perspective.
Parenting young children, especially multiple, is hard. At one point I had four children under the age of six. Before about age three, maybe even four, children and babies demand a parent’s near-full-time attention. They can do nothing for themselves, which includes all the basic necessities and then some. This requires that a parent must, for a period of time, put themselves second and attend to a young child’s every need. For an adult who is used to doing what he wants, caring for himself and maybe a spouse can be a rude awakening. It can feel like a sledgehammer to our body’s natural sense of self-preservation; it can feel tiring rather than invigorating and boring rather than fun.
However, in time, parents usually grasp a sense of balance. With effort and trial and error, parents teach their children to sleep through the night, clean up after themselves, and adopt manners. With even more time, these same children who once wet their pants will clean the toilet on chore day. These same children who wouldn’t sleep through the night will offer to bring you coffee in bed on Saturday (really!) or attempt to make you toast when you’re sick (it will arrive cold but the thought is truly what counts). This is a kind of joy and satisfaction. Not Disney World joy, mind you — but more like, “I spent the day outside working and now fall into a satisfied sleep” kind of fullness of heart.
What I hope this father realizes is, first of all, that parenting isn’t actually all about him and how he feels: Parenting puts on the chopping block the needs and desires of a childless adult as an endless litmus test of maturity, selflessness, and character and replaces it with joy, gratitude, and legacy.
What this father lacks in perspective he will eventually gain in purpose. Right now, his children might feel like they are “all joy and no fun,” to quote one of my favorite headlines from a parenting piece, but eventually they will actually be both. If he has put in the hard work of selfless care, late nights, cleaning up vomit, potty training, long division, device-monitoring, sex talks, discipline, sleep training and more, he will likely reap the reward of a kind of pure joy that children exude, if only in doses. There is something ethereal about unexpected snuggles, notes scrawled in crayon, and even cries for help in the middle of the night.
To a father like this, they seem like an annoying, relentless time suck. But to his children, he has yet to realize, he is their whole world.
For the parent struggling to get through a year of potty training or sleeplessness, remember that your child could have been born with a debilitating disease. Give thanks for their health and devise solutions to survive and thrive. For the parents struggling with balancing work, homework, sports practices, and more, remember some parents mourn the loss of their children and would give anything to do these “mundane” things again. Give thanks for the tween years, the teen years, and even the years your college-aged son doesn’t text you that much, because more often than not, if you’ve loved and sacrificed, prayed and cried over your children, eventually they will love you back, in their own tender, sweet ways — and that will be enough.
Nicole Russell (@russell_nm) is a contributor to the Washington Examiner‘s Beltway Confidential blog. She is a journalist who previously worked in Republican politics in Minnesota.
