The Kids God Wanted for Us

 

This recent article in Time Magazine raises delicate yet important issues about the difficulty of parenthood. It is of course anyone's right to decide not to bring children into the world, for whatever reason they have to arrive at that conclusion. But is it ok to express regret over becoming a parent, to effectively say that if given a chance to go back in time you'd move forward without your child(ren)?

The article seems to want to give space for people to be honest. As an adoptive parent, I think this even more fraught. Kids did not ask to be born; kids who were adopted have already received one loss of some sort before they even get to us. I cannot fathom compounding those complicated feelings with anything but unconditional acceptance and love.

Obviously, there are days in every parent's life that raising kids is no day at the beach, when thoughts easily go to a parallel universe in which you can literally just have a day at the beach instead of whatever parenting burden you are carrying in the actual universe. But is that the same thing as having or expressing regret?

In my cultural upbringing and in the faith I have chosen for myself (or at least my best understanding of both), it is important that life is not all days at the beach. We are not necessarily masochists. But we do understand that life is a rich texture of good and bad, ease and suffering. Indeed, the highest of all ideals and the greatest of all pleasures, love: what is that without heartache and pain and difficulty and loss?

I have said often that I want my kids to know they are the most important thing in my life, but that they are not the only thing in my life. So yes, I'm in it with them for the long haul, even if I literally need to take a day at the beach (or a trip to the golf course in my case) every once in a while. Me deriving great pleasure from the latter does not negate the primacy of the former.

On a deeper level, I believe deeply and gratefully that God gave Amy and me the kids He wanted for us. Separate or apart, thriving or struggling, making us soar with pride or causing us to want to wring their necks...in any and all circumstance, we will catch ourselves glancing at each other with some version of: God is working on us right now, God is laughing at us right now, and most of all God is blessing us right now. 

I cannot speak to the central question of the Time article. I can say that, through hardship I could not have possibly fathomed in my pre-dad days, I have no regrets for how life has played out, and am deeply thankful to have Asher, Aaron, and Jada in my life. 

This is 9

 

Today this guy turns 9. Love you, Asher!

24

 

It feels right to be celebrated 24 years of marriage with Amy today. After all, our days feel like episodes of "24," what with the constant stress, high stakes, and ticking clocks. That's what 2 jobs and 3 kids will do to you. 

Wedding anniversaries, though, are helpful reminders of vows long since expressed before God and family, that two would become one, and that journeys would be continued together in good times and bad.

In our 24 years and counting, Amy and I have certainly had richer and poorer, sickness and health. It has often not been glamourous. But I would not wish for a different journey, as I'm living in the best one, with the best partner. Happy anniversary!

Love

 

Invariably, any conversation I have with a fellow parent leads to the expression of the following sentiment: "This is not for the weak of heart." It's because parenting represents absorbing the combination of all that can go wrong, in the sphere of our lives that we feel most deeply about.

I feel like society is noticeably moving towards an all-encompassing pressure to distract or numb oneself from the sharp pains of the real-world problems of real people. Entertainment options have never been more plentiful or higher quality. Social media platforms offer an endless menu of content in all shapes and sizes, especially bite-sized nuggets to make us laugh or think or rage. Even much of our interaction with the important political, social, and human issues of the day feels more like sport or entertainment than education or advocacy, what with all the biting memes and partisan one-upmanship.

Parenting has a way of bringing us back to reality. Sure, there are many times we want to escape with a kid-free getaway, a weekend afternoon on the golf course, or even a brief daydream over a morning coffee. But the escapes are the exception, whereas the actual engagements are the norm. And those engagements mean carrying the weight of heavy things, like academic struggles or illnesses that won't go away or special behavioral needs. 

I have not yet used the word "love" in this post, but that is the sentiment that makes everything so complicated and yet worth it. I suppose that we can love the things we distract ourselves with. I can love a TV show I'm watching; I can love the game of golf; I can love the feeling of leisure travel. 

But it feels like a different love when we talk about parenting our kids. Sure, it's the family connection that literally bonds us. But I think it's also all the hardship and heartache. We don't love deeply in spite of those challenges. We love deeply because those challenges grew that deep love in us. 

If you are not a parent and have chosen that life, I salute you for constructing a life direction that will satisfy and enrich you. And I'm sure there is much in that life you have made that you can truly say you love deeply. If you are not yet a parent and are contemplating it or about to become one, I can say this: it will be the hardest thing you will ever do, and it will hurt, deeply at times. And all of that is a part of a love that you will never regret giving yourself to.

World Traveler

 

Our aspirational world traveler is starting to put dreams into action. Jada applied for, got accepted into, planned up, and then successfully executed a spring break study abroad trip to Greece, which she returned from last weekend. 

Beforehand, I had ribbed her that, given her description of what she was going to be doing there, it felt less educational and more vacationy. But, travel is inherently educational, so I wholeheartedly support her doing more of this. 

And, as a dad, I breathe a sigh of relief she stayed safe and feel a measure of pride that she pulled off the whole trip without a trip. I'm sure she'll have many more stamps in her passport in no time.

Closing Time

 

Twenty-four years ago today a young couple closed on their first home and then celebrated over fajitas at New Deck Tavern while worrying immediately about whether that large asset (by far the most they'd ever spent on anything in the world) would catch fire or fall apart or do 101 things that were out of their depth or financial capability. 

It feels like forever ago. Thankful for the things that fell into place to allow us to be homeowners, which we know is not a privilege available to all. I still worry about things beyond my pay grade. Probably more so, as the anxiety of not knowing what I don't know has now been replaced with the anxiety of knowing more about all the moving parts that can flare up at any time. 

But I'm pretty sure my strongest emotion is gratitude that this old structure, 100+ years old and full of character, has become the setting of the family Amy and I have built. It's been a lot of hugs and kisses, a lot of diapers and barf clean-up, a lot of heartache and tears, a lot of laughter and celebration. This old house is our home, a blessing that young couple probably wished for but couldn't have possibly conceived of at the time. So we mark the occasion with happiness and reverence.

The Balance in Work-Life Balance

 

I run a small professional services firm. So I think about that mystical "work-life balance" a lot. Somewhere in between "9-5" and "80-hour work weeks" is what we aim for, which I think is the right place to be, but it is trickier to stick that landing than either extreme. What does it mean to honor the boundaries that allow people to have meaningful lives outside of work, and yet at the same to be the sort of customer-facing firm that understands that the real world has real deadlines and real expectations? 

So I grapple with this, for myself as a husband and father. And I know that I set the tone, in policy and example, for my co-workers, who also have spouses and kids and elderly parents, as well as civic passions and hobbies and life events. 

"Balance" implies that there are two (or more) things pulling on you, and that it is an ongoing task to manage each of them, because they are simultaneously important and yet not the only thing in your life. So I guess you can start there, is to acknowledge this somewhat perilous existence, be thankful that you have multiple important things in your life, accept that you cannot possibly "do it all," and do your best to honor every part while being kind to yourself that you won't always get it right.

It may helpful for me to get more specific. Not that I assume I have this right, and even if I do things will change and I will need to adapt in response. But a few things come to mind when I try to hold my life together in balance:

* The very first hours of the day are for me: spirituality, exercise, getting myself ready for the day. Due to my responsibilities, that means I have to get up at 4am. And since I'm trying to prioritize sleep, that means I have to wind down around 9pm. 

* I'd rather work longer hours during the week than have to do anything substantive on the weekend. Whether it's because I have a lot of parenting or social things or because I want to bum around, I think it's good to take an extended break from the work grind.

* My official work day is usually constrained by kid drop-off and pick-up. When there's more work in a day than that allows, I catch up in the evening. The rare times there's less work in a day than that, I'm still in the office the same amount of time.

* A lot of times I miss the swim meet or the choir concert. When I do make it, I usually have to work after bedtime to catch up.

* While I do have to work at home sometimes, I try not to. On the flip side, I try not to handle personal or family things while I'm at work. I'm glad I have the flexibility to toggle, and I use that flexibility, just sparingly.

* When I'm golfing, I don't take calls or emails, and I don't think about anything but grinding it out on the course. Conversely, I'm usually grabbing the earliest tee time possible and I play pretty fast, so that I can get back to work or family as soon as possible. (Although this is an area that I'd like to rebalance a bit, in terms of allowing myself a more leisurely pace and not always feeling so rushed.)

* When I'm on vacation, I like to be largely but not totally off the grid, and at the same time I don't like having to catch up when I'm back, nor do I consider that fair to my co-workers and clients. So I try to work extra before to get to a good stopping point where balls are in other people's courts while I'm away, which minimizes (although doesn't totally eliminate) having to do long-form work like generate content or edit reports. I try to limit my email check-ins to four times a week (at the end of Monday through Thursday). Rarely will I take a synchronous meeting.

* Three or four times a year, I will take a personal day. No calls or emails, just golf or bike-riding or sight-seeing.

I wish less and less that I had an 8th day of the week to get more done. I'm more comfortable with my limitations, able to accept where I fall short, able to celebrate where I did a good job. You may look at my list above with horror or admiration. It works for me, for now, and I'm grateful for all that makes up my life.