I changed my screen saver to a slideshow of all the photos in iPhoto. On one hand, this has been a GREAT idea and TONS of fun: it’s common for me to end up surrounded by children and Paul, all of us watching the computer screen and saying “Ohhhhhhh, that’s WILLIAM! He’s HENRY’S age there!” and “Ohhhhh, Elizabeth, look at you in your little DRESS! Awwww, your hair was still so short then!”
On the other hand, it’s been a TERRIBLE idea and has led to TONS of morose brooding and even LEAKING TEARS. What has been the POINT of all this child-rearing work, when they all just grow up into unrecognizable, smelly, messy-lived ADULTS like all the rest of us? Rob already bears almost zero resemblance to his childhood self; the two don’t even seem CONNECTED in my mind. One was my baby/toddler/child Rob, and then that ended—and now a new person is here, coincidentally named Rob.
What has been the point of all the money and time and stress, when what we’re getting out of it is people who grow up and feel superior and critical (“I’LL never do X like MY parents did!”) and wish they didn’t have to visit us? YES, it’s true that when I think of any mistake that my parents made (NOT THAT THEY EVER MADE ANY, or that they read this blog), my mind immediately adds that every human parent by absolute unavoidable definition will make their own batch of mistakes based on their own temperament, and that it is not only unreasonable/ridiculous but also very unpleasant and whiny and immature to require one’s own parents to have been the first unflawed human beings. (It will not surprise you that this mature viewpoint came to me more firmly when I was myself a parent, with my own behavior up for future review and criticism.)
And YES, it’s true that not only do I not feel obligated/stressed about visits to my parents, I in fact deliberately moved to a house three-tenths of a mile away from theirs because I WANTED TO, even though I hate the weather here and loved it where we lived before. So it’s not like I think every child grows into an unappreciative and distant adult. BUT. It’s not like they grow into a darling cheek-squeezable cutie-pie whose attempt at saying Mommy comes out like “Bah-boo,” either. I’ve been leafing through my journals and seeing how there are TONS of cute things to record about the early years, and then it drops off pretty sharply. The only things I write about Rob now are things like “Rob got his braces on today” and “Rob is now the same height as me.” There’s no impulse to photograph his widdle toes. (Also gone: the incredible exhaustion/frustration/”Please let no one touch me for TEN SECONDS” of those widdle-toes years. But that’s been replaced, with no accompanying toesies.) (And it’s not like I want the toesies years back, or to live them again/instead. I don’t know what I want.)
I’ve been upset, as you know, about the end of the child-bearing years, and I’d been soothing myself by thinking about how there are still lots of things to look forward to, among them grandchildren. But now I think “Sure. And then the grandchildren also grow up into adults.”
Everything is feeling very BIOLOGICAL IMPERATIVE to me right now, like all the good parts have just been a set-up.
Well here’s one good thing to look forward to: aren’t you really good friends with your mom? Because I bet you’ll be really good friends with your adult children, too! You know, once they all get into and then past the difficult teenage years.
One of my biggest fears is that my kids will grow up and leave and not want anything to do with me. Like that is at the top of my list of The Things I Think About.
One was my baby/toddler/child Rob, and then that ended—and now a new person is here, coincidentally named Rob.
LOL, that is really funny and so true. But hopefully one day you’ll find that you really like the new Rob and genuinely enjoy his company. I’m thrilled that my 19 year old and I are close and really like each other.
It DOES seem like a set up.
But looking at friends and colleagues, MANY of them have perfectly wonderful adult relationships with their parents. So I am hoping that this is just a stretch of turbulence in Rob’s flight pattern and that he’ll smooth out eventually.
This line of thought leads inevitably to the logical conclusion of “what’s the point of living.”
There is no answer – the point, if there is one, is in the process, and is self-generating/fulfilling.
The way I’ve dealt with what you describe is to always remind myself that the physical shell -including speech, personality, body, mind – has never been the person. The person is the “I Am” within, that experiences all the rest. That is true for all life. And that “I Am” is always the same person, in this case one who’s outer shell your outer shell has labeled “Rob.”
Whatever you want to call that, -energy, presence, spirit, soul, whatever- I try to always direct my love at that, and seek so shine forth and connect from that ultimate aspect of myself as well.
So then it doesn’t matter what my kids look like or sound like, or how cute or uncute their toesies become – or how old and wrinkly we’ll all eventually get (not there yet…) because we’re connected on the level of who and what we really are, which is beyond all those ephemeral aspects.
This is what love is really about, and the only way to get beyond the cruel, crumbling, entropic, futility of life.
In my experience, the best way to stay connected on that level is daily mediation.
I hope this helps.
I mean meditation :-)
OK I used to have the slideshow screen saver at my office and had to disable it because I found every time it came on, I stopped doing my work and instead started looking at the pictures and reminiscing. Dangerous!
I also think about my kids growing up and moving far away because (1) I have a good relationship with my parents now, but it’s likely only because I moved 3,000 miles away from them for about 10 years and finally got some space and (2) where I live the economy is crap and it seems unlikely my kids will ever be able to find decent jobs here and so will have to move away. ACK!
Still, because my kids are far apart in age I am in a place where I fully appreciate the (very different) aspects of where they are. My son is 9 and no longer a cute baby/toddler, but he sleeps in, dresses and feeds himself, has a good sense of humor, and can play difficult and interesting games with me now. My daughter is 2.5 and is so very cute and loving, but she wakes at 6:00 am or earlier, has tantrums, and still wears diapers, so at this point it’s 6 of one, 1/2 a dozen of the other.
You are scaring me.
I alternately despair the repetition and boredom of the toesies stage and clench my teeth at how freakin’ cute my children are and have stop myself from snuggling their faces off. I adore my mother and we have an amazing relationship, but I often wonder if I have disappointed her with my life path somehow.
Uhh, this is going nowhere. I’ll stop talking now.
It’s so true. When they’re babies, they just have to fart and we think they’re amazing. When they’re older, we have to find different ways to connect and marvel at them, and it’s just not as easy, honestly. It’s like the difference between a crush and a marriage, almost – the first you’re just in a swoon of delicious feelings, the second is learning to love the whole person, faults and frictions and all.
This may just be my own special brand of crazy, but I was despairing last night about the fact that once you have kids, you will NEVER AGAIN have a worry-free moment. No matter how old your kids get, you still worry about them every day. Whether they’re 21 or 41 or 61. And yes, I know people who will say that worry is useless and unproductive, and sure, they’re absolutely right, but who can help it?
It makes me exhausted just to think of all the worry I still have ahead of me.
because i have an only, this feeling that everything is so fleeting comes often. she’s the first and last, so once we’ve passed milestones…they’re gone. i think many of us enjoy the baby/toddler/child stage, but the idea of PARENTING (capital P) a grown child/young adult….yikes. however, it feels nice to look ahead to having more couple time, more money, more sleep, more freedom to travel, etc. for me, that’s the upswing of this parenting gig: the opportunity to enjoy/experience it, AND the enjoyment of being an unfettered “adult” (as opposed to primarily a “parent” once more.)
I don’t know what to say about this. Right now I don’t fear so much for my own relationship with my children (despite how crabby I can be with them) as for their relationship with each other. Will they ever get along?
I hear ya.
Whenever I feel this way, I remember a former client of mine, who so missed her babies that she volunteered at a hospital in Oakland to hold premature infants. I think I could get into that. All the widdle toesies my heart desires.
What Saly said.
Ahhhh…don’t tell me that! Who knows if we’ll manage to find other babies, and Pie is growing up faster than I can deal with. And there’s the baby fever…
My peeps were BEAUTIFUL, but there is NO AMOUNT OF MONEY IN THE WORLD that I would take to swap their teen-selves for their todder/preschool/elementary school-aged selves. Those years in our household were AWFUL. So dang awful that I had a hard time reading Greg Olear’s “Fathermucker” (which you might enjoy, BTW) because most of the book was an uncomfortable reminder of those HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE years. I am convinced they were so pretty so I wouldn’t sell them to the gypsies. Thank heavens they were such good sleepers.
I thought I was the only one whose offspring seemed completely un- connected to their younger selves. Case in point- my 23 year old (next month) who, when I look at pictures actually had 3 selves- the baby/toddler one, the school age one, and now this big guy that doesn’t even live here anymore who coincidentally is named “Thomas”. My younger one is only nearing 9. But man, no one tells you this happens.
“One was my baby/toddler/child Rob, and then that ended—and now a new person is here, coincidentally named Rob.” That made me laugh out loud.
My husband is forever thinking, “Once they get older (and aren’t so needy/waking up during the night/screeching), things will be so much better,” but I disagree. Even though this time is effin’ exhausting, I like the cuteness and wonder and funny sayings.
I guess sometime down the road, there will come tremendous joy and pride (god-willing) of seeing my children as decent, capable, hard-working human beings. Or I will be like the protagonist in “We Need to Talk About Kevin,” a novel which is a surefire birth control method. Heavens!
My three children are grown and it has been nice to develop friendships with each of them. I’m still Mom but since I’m no longer responsible for them, it has allowed us to develop a friendship. But, oh, grandchildren are the best. Mine is almost 4 and I know that we will always have a special relationship no matter her age.
What I love about you is your ability to put this post right after your “opportunity think” post. Both are perfectly true.
I know my grandparents often feel the same way. Their grandchildren are all grown up now and generally (but not always!) see visiting as a burdensome obligation. They have great-grandchildren, but if the grandchildren never want to visit (and bring their children), what good are they? I don’t really know what to do about this. I *don’t* want to drag my small children (who are, by definition, awful travelers) around the country to hang out with grandparents I love, but have a hard time carrying a conversation with. And I ESPECIALLY don’t want to visit my husband’s grandparents, because I REALLY have nothing to talk about or in common with them. (Not because they’re unpleasant, just because I don’t know them.)
I get like this too, although I don’t yet have the surly Older Child and must imagine him instead (usually a version of my own Surly Child days). I am hopeful my kids will want to know me when they’re all grown up and hopeful that I’ll HAVE grandkids and then I think of my own slowly-going-batty grandmother doting on MY children and I think that will be nice, you know? To be a dotty old lady holding babies at the Home?
Oh wow, most depressing comment ever.
HumanLiberty – that is a beautiful sentiment. Thanks for that comment.