Oh, Honestly

I recently read an article about why parents hate parenting. It said something about how people love their children, but hate the job of raising them. I've also been reading Mama-blogs and books that are hailed as being "honest about motherhood," and it appears that being honest equates to saying that they don't enjoy it. It equates to admitting that it's difficult work, that the hours are long, the pay is non-existent, there are no vacation days, no sick days, and you're constantly covered in someone else's slime.

All of this is, of course, true. The slime, in particular, is less than enjoyable. But after reading that article, I had to ask myself why my experience seems to be so, so different from the people surveyed. Because yes, I love my kid, but also? I really, really love the work of parenting. Even when I experience a moment of frustration, right below the frustration is the abiding knowledge that I am, possibly, the luckiest person on the planet for being able to do what I love AND spend most of my waking moments with a very small, very clownish person. A person who came up to me yesterday, hugged me, and said "Aww!" And then licked me and ran away.

I'll admit that the first 10 weeks or so of Luke's life were ridiculously difficult and that there were many moments when I felt like it would never end. But we made it out of that period and for the past year or so, it's been good. Great, even. All those things that I was worried about--loss of Self, loss of Sleep, increase in Stress? Those things haven't really panned out yet. I mean, the loss of sleep has, but even at my worst moments, I was nowhere near as tired as I was when I was working at the daycare full-time, going to school full-time, volunteering at the Psych lab, and then going out with my friends at night. Not. Even. Close.

So here I am with some honesty of my own: I love this job. When my kid is throwing a tantrum in CVS, I still love this job. When it's 4 in the morning and he wakes up screeching, I still love this job. (Although not during the actual screeching, you understand. I'm not a masochist. I do not enjoy being woken up from a sound sleep by loud, high-pitched noises. In fact, I have been known to yell at my kid to "Stop yelling!" when this occurs. But then, I wake up enough to realize that hey, all I have to do is nurse the kid and he'll shut up and then, we're all on the Happy Train again.) And you know, I'm even getting used to the slime.