TOP 10 BEST THINGS ABOUT PARENTING

  

          In which I discuss that, despite its horrors, parenthood is the best thing ever ever ever ever.

            ...ever.

            Parenthood is hard, but you guys, it is so worth it. However, explaining why it’s worth it proves a difficult task. Unlike many of the negatives, the positive aspects of parenting, in the baby stage, at least, are largely intangible. Trying to explain that your baby’s first laugh completely trumps the chronic lack of sleep and massive blow to your social life is difficult, especially if you’re talking to someone who doesn’t have, or even like, kids. If you’re someone who wonders why anyone would ever want a screaming, pooping, drooling, nocturnal little bundle of stem cells who is utterly dependent upon you for survival, I don’t think this list will help clear things up. These benefits are not only very internal, but deeply personal to myself. Not every mother in the world loves to spend hours browsing baby clothes online.

            Anyway, on with the thing.

Top 10 Best Things about Parenting

10. Baby Clothes/Stuff

Wait for it...

            I know, this makes the whole list seem ridiculous, but guys, I have a serious obsession with window shopping for cute baby clothes, books, toys, furniture, etc. When the babes are down and I just do not have the energy to do anything remotely creative, I find it incredibly relaxing to add to my Twins Wish List on Amazon. It’s legitimately de-stressing. I have some cute ass babies, if I do say so myself, and dressing them in adorable outfits makes me unrealistically happy. I also love finding oddball toys for them; building blocks that feature the periodic table of elements, an adorable farm-to-table play kitchen, Edgar Allen Poe baby books, teethers shaped like Cthulhu and Jormungandr and old Nintendo controllers. Despite my growing discomfort with US Capitalism, my hypocritical love for ‘stuff’ wins out when it comes to babes. If I must drown in baby and kid stuff for the foreseeable future, it might as well be cute stuff.

9. You’ve Made Your Mark on the World

            This is another little one, but it’s worth mentioning. I’ve had so many periods in my life where I feel like I’m drifting aimlessly, insignificant, nothing. I’ve feared I’d never accomplish anything or make any sort of impact on anyone around me. I never wanted to be famous or start a charity or anything like that, but I did want to make some sort of mark.

            Having a child is so often torn down by people who don’t like kids or falsely believe the world is overpopulated. “Anyone can pop out a kid.” “Congratulations, you had sex and reproduced like every other human ever.”

            I’ll be gentle about it: Fuck those people.

            Having a child is a common experience, yes. So is losing a loved one, but you don’t see people going around saying, “Oh, your grandpa died? So will every other grandparent in history. Big deal.” Just because an experience is common doesn’t mean it’s not deeply significant and impactful. Two human beings exist now because of the choices I made and the bonds I forged. It’s wild and beautiful. Even if I never write a book that sells even moderately well, I won’t feel like my life has led to nothing because I’ve built this family. It may mean nothing to a lot of people, but it means everything to me.

            So suck it, baby haters.

8. Breastfeeding

They're now too big and flaily to tandem feed.

            This may come as a surprise to those who follow my blog and have read the post I wrote in my pregnancy called “I Hate the Idea of Breastfeeding.” Before I continue, I will say this: I still stand firm in my opinions that the benefits of breastmilk and breastfeeding are overblown, the data and the interpretation of said data problematic, and the pressure put on mothers to breastfeed shameful. What has changed is my discomfort with the idea of me breastfeeding.

            I was fortunate when it comes to breastfeeding. Other than a few weeks of minimal issues (and conflicting and often condescending advice from nurses/consultants,) like having to spoonfeed the babes colostrum because we weren’t fully getting the hang of things the first few days and the babes falling asleep during feeding, which lasted until…well, now-ish…I didn’t have any issues with breastfeeding. No tongue tie, no nipple confusion, nothing in that vein. So it was a relatively smooth experience with a slight learning curve.

            I don’t know if something happens hormonally in motherhood, but my discomfort with breastfeeding just…vanished. Like, out the babes came, and bam. All qualms eradicated. I gave zero fucks about breastfeeding in front of anyone; friends, family, nursing staff, it didn’t matter. Now, because my hellspawn have a habit of constantly unlatching and looking around, leaving me exposed, I’ll drape a blanket over us, but it’s crazy how every self-conscious worry I had just…utterly disappeared.

            I don’t produce nearly enough to exclusively breastfeed twins, so breastfeeding for my babes is largely a soothing mechanism or a tide-you-over snack for an hour or two. And I kind of…love it? I love it. I love that it calms the babes when they’re upset. I love that they’re snuggled up against my skin. I love that I don’t have to sterilize bottles, mix, or reheat before serving.

            There are aspects of breastfeeding that are an absolute pain in the ass—leaking, engorgement if breastfeeding has been delayed for a while, the charley-horse-in-the-boobs that is the let-down reflex, and fuck, I despise pumping—but I know that when it comes time to stop, I’ll be pretty heartbroken.

            However my daughter’s first tooth just emerged, so my projected sorrow might do a rapid 180.

 7. Maturity Level-Up; Or; Holy Shit, I Can Adult!

Unintentional family nap time.

            We Millennials really got the shaft when it comes to maturity. Largely infantilized by our parents and told in a thousand ways that we were too young and immature to handle ourselves, a great deal of us found ourselves in our 20s not knowing things like what credit scores mean or how to change a tire. A thousand viral Twitter/Tumblr posts and countless memes reflect our feeling that we are living in a state of suspended adolescence, or at least that the concept of being an “Adult” is both overwhelming and unattainable. This is why the term adulting exists. We appreciate the little things about adulthood that previous generations took for granted; we’re proud when we pay our bills on time or when we create a workable budget for ourselves because we still can’t shake the feeling that we really have no idea what we’re doing.

            That feeling certainly doesn’t go away with parenting, but man, it’s a trip to suddenly find yourself “adulting” without thought. When a human life is utterly and completely dependent on you, stepping up becomes natural. Sure, it’s scary—when you fuck up, you’re not the only one who has to deal with the consequences—but it’s also…validating. You’re a parent. You are the adult. You can handle a lot of the shit you thought you couldn’t.

6. Marriage Level-Up

<3

            Or partnership, etc etc, but I’m talking from more a personal place, so for me, it’s marriage.

            When I was pregnant, I couldn’t wait to see my husband as a father, and man, he did not disappoint. It’s wonderful to see your partner in a new light, to see them step up and meet a new, unfaced challenge with strength and grace. And though it’s stressful, I’ve found that my marriage has become even stronger. Hubby and I are facing the most difficult thing we’ve ever done—together. We’ve proven to each other hundreds of times that we have each other’s back, whether it’s taking the sleep-deprivation hit for the one who works in the morning, or taking the reins when one of us hits our limit in one way or another. I didn’t think I could love my husband more than I did before my pregnancy, but we’ve reached a new level. We’re truly a team. We’re fucking iron-clad. Power couple to the max, bitches.

…sorry.

5. You Have Your Tribe

            We are the m/pater familius (familius..es? Ugh. Latin) of a household now, which means we can literally define what family means to us. We can raise the babes according to what’s most important to us, our values, our ideas. We can start our own traditions. It’s almost like creating a world when writing a novel, but in reality. It’s fucking awesome.

4. They’re so. Fucking. CUTE.

            It seems like a small thing, but it really isn’t. To me (and most parents re: their spawn,) my babies are the most adorable creatures I’ve ever seen. Their chubby limbs are adorable. Their gummy little grins are adorable. Their screaming laughter is adorable. They’re so cute that it’s literally overwhelming at times. And I have to tell you, their cuteness really, really helps lift the weight of stress and exhaustion of caring for such dependent little beastlings.

            Fun fact that is definitely a digression: Babies elicit such strong emotional/chemical reactions in their caretakers’ brains that we engage in “cute aggression” (I could just eat you up!/Eats the feets!/Om nom nom!) to maintain equilibrium.

            Back to the list!

3. You Are Their World

            It sounds egotistical, but let’s be real: We all want to be needed, wanted, and loved. And though my hellspawn aren’t old enough to be able to express affection—they aren’t kissing or hugging or cuddling yet—they show their love how they can, and it’s so…I’m at a loss for words. Flattering? Moving? Amazing? Take your pick there.

            At around 4 months old, my daughter, M, developed a discomfort with unfamiliar faces, which, to a 4-month-old, is everyone but Mommy and Daddy. It’s truly heart-wrenching to have her reject friends, family members, her own grandparents, and I can’t wait until she feels more secure or has a better memory for friendly people. However, I’d be lying if it didn’t make me feel all warm and fuzzy to know that she feels secure in my (and her father’s) arms, that I am her place of safety and comfort. Obviously I get that feeling without the stranger-danger; my son, A, loves people and still comes to Hubby and me for comfort, so hopefully M will feel better about strangers soon…especially since she has a particular problem with bearded men and both of her grandfathers have beards. Oy…

            I love being the one they are happiest with. I love that I can make them laugh, that they miss me when I’m gone, that they’re so happy to see me in the morning. (note: This all applies to my husband, too. I’m kind of speaking for both of us, sort of.) I’ve never felt more needed or wanted, and it’s a wonderful feeling.

2. Motherhood is Visceral as Fuck

"Moooom...staaaaaaahp..."

            Yep, this one is on both lists. Though the primal nature of motherhood is frightening, it has major upsides. For me, the code switch to Mother was deeply instinctual. I’ve never felt so instantly secure in a new role, even through all the fear and uncertainties that come with new parenthood. I’m not saying everything came naturally to me—I mentioned the breastfeeding learning curve, and honey, cloth diapers are not natural—but the deepest, primal lizard brain part of me was instantly 100% in on being a parent. The babes were laid on my chest and bam. I am Mama Lion. I will provide, I will protect, I will tear out the throat of anyone who crosses my cubs.

            For me, motherhood can be very animalistic. I love to nuzzle against my babes’ uber-soft skin and smell their hair. I don’t really smell anything other than their shampoo, but apparently I pick something up instinctually. I held my new baby cousin who’s around my twins’ age at a family function, smelled her hair, and immediately went, “Nope, this is not my baby.”

           

            Love for my babes, also, is more intense than anything I’ve experienced. Their smiles and laughter make my heart swell and their cries cut like blades. Ryan Reynolds honestly said it best about the intensity of parental love: “I used to say to [his wife, Blake Lively], 'I would take a bullet for you. I could never love anything as much as I love you.' I would say that to my wife. And the second I looked in that baby's eyes, I knew in that exact moment that if we were ever under attack, I would use my wife as a human shield to protect that baby."

            A joke, for sure, but the underlying message is very true for me: My love for my babes was instantaneous and stronger than any love before it.

            Motherhood is the most viscerally connected I’ve ever been to my human instincts. It’s strange and wonderful to navigate this new territory.

            So don’t fuck with Mama Dee, because that bitch is scary.

1. Watching Them Grow

            This one tops everything. It’s fascinating, awe-inspiring, to watch humans you created go from sleepy, wrinkly little lumps to chubby, limb-flailing explosions of personality. Smiling, grasping, laughing, lifting their heads, it happens so quickly, right before your eyes. It isn’t the slow, gradual process of change most of us are used to—the few grey hairs you spot in the mirror, the friend who gained weight since you saw them months ago—it’s rapid-fire. Three days ago, I first felt a tooth cutting through M’s gums. Three days later, it’s emerged enough for her to frequently bite her thumb and freak out about it. Hell, by the end of the week, it might be fully grown. Zuko’s puppyhood didn’t feel this fast.

            There isn’t much to expand on with this one. Like many of these Best Things, it’s simple to explain and anything but simple to experience. Parenthood is wild and stressful and visceral and joyous and terrifying.

And it’s the best thing I’ve ever done.