The Joys of Parenting
By Joe Barker
Alice tries to look innocent—not that hard for a ten-month-old baby—but I'm not easily fooled. The look of intense concentration, the explosive noise, and the sudden smell tell a clear enough story: another dirty diaper has been made. “But I've just changed you, you irksome child,” I growl in exasperation at the adorable poop-fiend in baby form that stands before me. She giggles as I grumpily carry her to the bathroom and begin to clean her. Then, as she struggles mightily to reach the soap, making cute cooing noises while I curse her poop-smearing wriggling, my irritation starts to melt, and by the time she's sitting in the sink splashing water everywhere, her giggling has turned to delighted laughter, and I'm soaked but full of joy at getting to spend so much time with my occasionally loveable children.
Every day of childcare is filled with these moments of joy, but I realize that this year the days have felt so long, and the childcare so intense and overwhelming that I haven't been seeing those moments. I've been so focused on reaching the end of each day—a chance to sit down and rest, a moment for myself—while dreaming of September and the spare time I'll have once Marty starts school, that I've stopped fully enjoying spending time with Alice and Marty and have started wishing away these magical moments. So in this month’s article, I've decided to focus on those daily moments of love and joy. Those moments that, when they're disagreeable teenagers or unreachable students, will make my heart ache and yearn for them to be babies again. In the process, I hope I'll remind myself of how lucky I am to get to spend so much time with my occasionally foul but oh-so-adorable offspring. Obviously, I'll still feel overwhelmed, exhausted, and fed up, but hopefully I'll also be a bit more present in the giggling games and amazing adventures rather than ruining this time imagining a rosier future.
Feeding frenzy
Watching Alice eat is to watch someone doing what they truly love. She hammers her table in excitement as the food approaches, then dives head first into her plate and smears food all over her face. Yet hers is not a selfish love: she delights in sharing her joy with others. The tastiest morsels are hurled around the room, tossed to favored family members, or simply lost among the riotous excitement of eating. All of this is done with the widest of smiles, little jumps, and cries of delight. Now, I could watch this and focus on the mess; the need to clean the highchair, walls, and floor; and the upcoming struggle to change and wash Alice without covering myself in part-chewed food. I could (and do) curse the fool who gave her a mango stone to chew and paint herself with, or, I could relish the joy. A joy that naturally continues as we move to the bathroom where she once again strives to eat the soap while wriggling and splashing to her heart's content. If I let it, there is joy to be found in even the messiest moments.
Marty mincing time
While at times all I want is a chance to lie down and digest my lunch, and maybe catch up on a few minutes sleep, Marty has very different ideas. He loves to be chased around the kitchen table by a variety of monsters, ranging from the usually friendly tickle monster to the terrifying mincing machine which wants to make a shrieking Marty into meat pies. Sleepily, grouchily, I drag my aching legs up from the couch and start to hobble after Marty. “Surely I’m too old for this,” I mutter to myself. But soon the thrill of the chase starts to work its magic. How can I regret spending my time running in this nauseatingly small circle when it makes Marty scream with such delight, a huge grin plastered on his face?
If that wasn't enough to loosen my limbs, there is the reaction of our number-one fan who sits bouncing up and down with excitement, squawking and clapping in amazement as we speed past on our dizzying little circuit. Alice loves watching us run, and as soon as she could crawl, she wanted to join in, setting off in determined, smiling pursuit each time we passed her.
TV tantrums
Once he discovered TV, Marty became a big fan. His constant demands to watch TV can swiftly drive me to infuriated and unrealistic threats to throw the TV away or never let him watch it again. Yet much as I hate the constant queries as to whether or not it's time to watch TV, I do enjoy watching TV with Marty. There is the blessed hour or two without questions or demands to build Lego castles, and the tantalizing possibility that I may get to doze on the sofa for a few minutes. Having said that, Marty is not a peaceful TV watcher, and sleeping can be hard as Marty jumps up and down shrieking in amazement at Winnie the Pooh's latest adventures.
My disappointment at not getting to nap is compensated for by the sheer joy of watching Marty experience TV. There is dancing and jumping in exuberant celebration of the sheer thrill of it all. There is hiding behind the couch when Heffalumps or Woozles threaten. There are seated jumps and standing jumps, cartwheels, and skipping. In short, it's a full body workout and emotional roller coaster rolled into one, and it’s a joy to observe.
There are then many joys to be found even when childcare feels overwhelming. Joys that make my heart melt and remind me how much I love my children, even as they seem intent on driving me to despair. But of course I cannot pretend that the greatest joy isn’t the moment each day that they finally fall asleep and I can sink back into the couch, safe in the knowledge that we've made it through another day and that all being well, it will be ten hours before they bother me again.
About the Author
Joe and his wife Diane moved to Thailand in 2018. Since the arrival of their son Martin in 2021 and daughter Alice in 2024, Joe has been a stay-at-home father. The whole family enjoys BAMBI playgroups and Thai beach holidays.