If people decide having kids isn’t for them, I say more power to ‘em. Because I don’t think anyone ought to have children just because that what societal or cultural expectations tell them they should do and should want to do. People should become parents if they want to, because they want to.

Being a parent is incredibly rewarding and filled with wonderful moments, but only if it’s what you want to do, because at times it’s also exhausting, exasperating, etc., and a lot of work — internally and externally, because if you’re truly engaged it forces you to learn and change and grow, and occasionally forces you to face things in yourself that you’d sometimes rather avoid.

All that pales in comparison to those moments you’re so tired you literally don’t know what to do, so exasperated that you want to scream (but don’t), or so frustrated that you have to close your eyes and count to ten — but only if raising a child is what you want to do in the first place.

Otherwise the other stuff will outweigh the rewards, etc., and turn into resentment. And believe me, a kid will know it even if he doesn’t have words for it. Yet.

I learned, or knew instinctively, never to talk about some thing to people who aren’t parents, because I’d get responses like the ones Schartzberg got.

Oh, that hurts. I’m so fed up with being told I just don’t understand because I’m not a parent. The way I see it, I can understand, and that’s why I’m not a parent.
Being responsible for so much, for so long, isn’t for everybody.

I wanted to finish by adding that in the end you found your way to fatherhood and your “inner parent,” even if your marriage didn’t survive, and that you and your children are better for it. That’s something many people seem to have missed in their comments.

That you didn’t let the end of your marriage keep you from being involved and engaged as a father, is another thing that was. I know many men for whom that hasn’t been the case, and their children suffer for it.

Thanks for your column, and for your response!

What worries me is the idea that parents are *expected* to be happy, patient, wise, fulfilled, strong, inexhaustible, and satisfied; and the idea that there is something “wrong” with parents if they fall short. In my first ten or so years of parenting, I know that *I* felt this kind of pressure all the time. I felt like friends, family, and the world at large were all looking at me, sizing me up, and judging me deficient if I wasn’t “feeling” like a great parent.

I realized that I published this post before I actually finished writing it.

Your comment reminded me of something. Around the time that Alec Baldwin’s, um, “unfortunate” voicemail message to his daughter was made public, I made a statement while speaking to a group of prospective adoptive parents:

Every parent or anyone who is raising or has raised children has had a least one moment as a parent/caregiver that they would not want broadcast to the entire world. Certainly not as the moment that defines them as a parent.

We’re imperfect people doing our best to raise imperfect people to go out into an imperfect world and remain happy and healthy — and, hopefully, to leave it a little less imperfect than they found it.

It’s a process, one we take on happily. But it’s not always pretty and, thus, not for the faint of heart…

To be honest, I expected women who experienced PPD to be among the harshest critics; in reality, they were among the most sympathetic. It was eye-opening. Two things I would make abundantly clear: 1) I do not regret having my children; they are among the most wonderful people I know 2) I divorced not because of my parenting difficulty, but because of issues in the marriage. I hold my children blameless, and I’m actually a better father for the experience. They would tell you as much.

This essay will appear in a larger form in a book being released this Father’s Day called “The 40-Year-Old Version”. You can learn more about that at http://www.divorceddadbook.com

Best to you, Terrance.

Joel

And who wouldn’t be exasperated by the challenges of parenting? It’s tougher than anything else I’ve ever done by several orders of magnitude. It’s more difficult than I could have imagined anything could be. The day-in, day-out demands are exhausting – physically, mentally, and emotionally.

It’s not a storybook scenario, in which the kids are so delightful that I’m constantly thrilled by how wonderful they are. My kids are MORE than old enough to know where dirty laundry goes, yet I’m still picking up a trail of stale laundry almost every day.

Don’t get me wrong – my kids *are* delightful and wonderful. It’s just that they have to be nudged to do their homework more often than they thrill me with how much they’ve matured. I have to lead them, push them, and teach them more often than they just “get it right” all on their own. In the day-to-day sense, there is more work than reward. Not that it isn’t worth it. The rewards are amazing, beyond anything I could have imagined in my pre-parent days…. even at times when those same rewards seem few and far between.

What worries me is the idea that parents are *expected* to be happy, patient, wise, fulfilled, strong, inexhaustible, and satisfied; and the idea that there is something “wrong” with parents if they fall short. In my first ten or so years of parenting, I know that *I* felt this kind of pressure all the time. I felt like friends, family, and the world at large were all looking at me, sizing me up, and judging me deficient if I wasn’t “feeling” like a great parent.

Here’s the message I would want to pass along to new and prospective parents: don’t expect yourself to be perfect. Don’t expect yourself to be happy with your kids 100% of the time. Good parents make indescribable sacrifices for their children; you’d be crazy not to feel the loss of what you’re giving up. When your kids (‘cuz they’re kids) are tired, cranky, and mean, you’ll try be wise, patient, and loving enough for both of you. If that leaves you emotionally drained once in a while, that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you; it means you’re reacting normally.

One of the most dangerous things a parent can do is to try and hold themselves up to the ideals that they *think* other people have for them. Don’t fall in to that trap. Love your kids, do your best by them, and if anyone expects you to be little miss sunshine 24/7, smile sweetly and tell ‘em to bugger off.