And We All Have No F#&%in' Clue What We're Doing
I recently passed the five year anniversary of my "retirement". The anniversary seems like a good time to get nostalgic about the past five years, especially considering that I am likely ending my tenure within the next year as the Associate Vice President for Child Development at the Bruns Family Foundation. I also realized that I had only written four posts so far this year, which equated to one per quarter. If I wanted to continue to refer myself as a "writer"*, I figured I should at least try to hammer out two more, making my content a more respectable "bi-monthly" product.
Before I "retired", I spent sevens year working in higher ed - five at my most recent place of employment, and two at my first "real job". In the world of higher ed, five years tends to be a notable, if not somewhat arbitrary, marker. Colleges and universities (and high schools too I guess) typically hold class reunions every five years in effort to keep their alums connected to the institution and ultimately make sizable donations to the school to pay for a new building, or just offset the rising cost of higher education. I actually have a reunion for my undergrad class coming up this coming summer.
One of the questions that colleges like to ask their alums (or at least the school I went to) is, if given the chance, would the alum choose that particular school again if they were a college bound kid^. Obviously there is a healthy amount of subjectivity that goes into this question and ultimately the answer. You would figure, given the magnitude of the decision, and the fact that the alum might still be making sizable student loan payments, that most would indicate that they would enroll in their alma mater if they had a chance to do it all over again. And let's be honest, who wouldn't want to do college all over again. College and university administrators love to champion these responses if they show the institution in a positive light from the perspective of their alumni (again, at least the school I went to). It can be a powerful marketing tool for perspective students - "Come here because our alums loved it so much they would come back again if they could!"
In case you were wondering, and you probably aren't but I'm going to tell you anyway, if I had the chance to go back to college, I would pick my alma mater. Yes, that underscores the confirmation basis narrative. But it is not in attempt to validate what was ultimately a poor decision that set me back somewhere in the neighborhood of six figures. I've written before how impactful my education experience was, especially my time in higher ed. It was certainly an expensive endeavor, but one that I feel has paid off in dividends far beyond the actual sticker price of the school.
This is not to say that if I had a chance to do it all over again I wouldn't do things a least a little bit different. Maybe I would have picked a different major - English, maybe? Then I could really call myself a writer. I certainly look back on my four year experience in university and see mistakes that I made. Like that time I drank an excessive amount of cheap vodka and passed out before 11pm. It's those experiences that we learn from that help move us forward. Maybe I would have spent more/less time in the Library - the actual one and/or the drinking establishment that went by that name. We can always look back and say, "should've, could've, would've". The visual acuity of hindsight is pretty undisputed.
So, it begs the question - for the content of this blog at least - five years later, if I had to choose to become a stay-at-home parent again, would I? The answer is most certainly yes. I've commented before on how when this "social experiment" is all said and done, there will likely be no part of me that regrets having had this opportunity to stay at home with my kids. It's something I continue to believe is true, especially as I seem to be nearing the end of my tenure. Sure there is a certain amount of confirmation bias in this response too. You would be hard pressed to find many parents who would make the claim that they wasted the last five years of their life being the primary caregiver of their kids. They are certainly out there, but they are a special breed.
This is not to say that if we were about to welcome a newborn into the world, something I am now physiologically incapable of assisting with, and I had the next five years ahead of me as a stay-at-home parent that I wouldn't do things a little different. Above and beyond anything, being a stay-at-home parent has been a learning experience. I've learned a lot about myself, and my kids, and my wife, and our familial relationship. And sometimes the things I learn one day render themselves useless the following day, or the following hour. I didn't have many expectations going into this gig, and I don't have many expectations coming out of it. My main objective was primarily to keep the stress level low, and things relatively congenial in our day to day operations. In that regard, I feel like I've mostly succeeded. Again, the key is to set the bar pretty low.
The last few years have certainly been a rollercoaster of high highs and at times some pretty low lows. But so far, no one has fallen off the ride and we haven't had any mechanical failures that weren't ultimately fixable. Life, especially life with kids, can have a tendency to resemble an amusement park at times. Equal parts exciting and fun, while also terrifying and exhausting. And always more foods made solely from sugar than are reasonably necessary. And usually insanely expensive. Having had the opportunity to be at home with our kids, I feel like I've been better able to regulate what "life amusement park attractions" my kids have experienced. I've also been able to pack bologna sandwiches - something my Mom always did when we made our occasional trips to Valleyfair.
If there is one thing in particular that I've learned from a "professional development" standpoint during my five year tenure as a stay-at-home parent, is that as parents we're all about the same level of clueless when it comes to trying to raise our kids. If you prefer the Tom Cochrane "Life is a Highway" metaphor, it's like we're all trying to navigate the same road of family life. But we have no idea exactly where we are going, how long that trip is going to take, and how often we will need to stop for bathroom breaks. We're all traveling at different speeds but ultimately navigating the same general twists and turns (medical emergencies, financial ruin, teens in puberty) and mundane straightaways (sitting through another dance recital/soccer match/game of Guess Who). And we're all driving different vehicles; some of us in Mazda Miatas, some in oversized SUVs, and the rest of us in Dodge Caravans.
One thing that I've noticed, as our society has become both more connected and simultaneously isolated at the same time, is this general attitude that we think we can figure things out on our own, and assume others can do the same. When I see a vehicle pulled over on the side of the road, I often wonder if I should stop and offer assistance. But then I assume that the driver probably has a cell phone and can just call someone they know for help, or a look up the number for a tow truck. Plus I typically have one or more young passengers with me, and I have to consider the chances that the person pulled over might actually be a serial killer. Safety first, right?
To a certain degree, I think this attitude has permeated other areas of our lives, and parenting in particular. As a parent, it can be easy to look at other parents and believe that they have everything figured out, while you are subsequently hanging on by a thread. By and large, we know that is likely a facade - the "social media being a window in the lives we want others to think we are living" phenomenon. And even though we know that everyone has their own shit they are dealing with, when it looks like they are doing a good job of dealing with that shit, it makes us wonder why we can't handle our own shit with similar success (sorry for the profanity, Mom).
A few months ago, my wife and I took trip to Greece to celebrate our 10 year wedding anniversary - you may recall our actual anniversary was relatively tame. We had a phenomenal week and a half enjoying the blue Mediterranean waters, an abundance of delicious Greek food and wine, and not having offspring to look after. Given that this was our first international trip without kids, I found myself observing families occasionally, particularly during the time when we were actually traveling. Watching these families travel with young children made me glad I was not doing the same. But I also found myself taking note of how parents of different cultures navigate the "opportunities" that have a tendency to arise when children are thrust into rather inhospitable situations - air travel, city buses, etc.
What I took away from those observations was that at the end of the day, we're all trying to get to the same place. Presumably to bed, in one piece, with the prospect of a tomorrow - and hopefully a better one. Sure there are some best practices when it comes to life in general, and parenting in particular, but ultimately we choose our own adventure on how to get there. Hopefully we all have the capacity and ability to make the decisions related to our own personal well being to live the life we ultimately want to, uncontrollable circumstances notwithstanding. Or, in the parenting spectrum in particular, to again quote our old daycare provider, "You gotta do what you gotta do to be the parent you want to be."
I try to keep this perspective when I struggle to find fulfillment in day to day activities that can make me feel like a volunteer Uber driver or Instacart delivery person for my children. I recently got together with a friend who just started his own stay-at-home tenure, and he quipped about his realization that lowering his standards was ultimately going to make him happier. Happier with the things he felt he could accomplish as a parent, and happier with how he navigated the various curveballs that life threw at him. But as Ruth Whippman suggests in her book, America the Anxious, part of keeping our sanity, especially as parents, may be recognizing that so much of our happiness depends on factors that are outside of our control. When we are faced with those factors, we can't have high expectations, or any for that matter, and have little choice but to just "wing it".
There is safety in numbers though, and this is why we have each other. The village that it takes to raise the next generation of the world's leaders or tech coders. Those who are just getting into the business of procreation can certainly look to the elders who have been down that road before, for guidance on what and and most certainly what not to do, but would ultimately do it all over again if given the chance. Of course we "elders" know quite well that the chance of us actually being in that situation ever again is incredibly slim. As our kids have grown, and our oldest recently celebrated her ninth birthday, I know the time is coming sooner than later when I will get nostalgic for the days that were a whirlwind of mac and cheese, slime and dance class, when the main objective was just get through the day.
Having spent the last 5+ years at home with my kids, one could argue that I should be getting close to completing my PhD in parenting, if such a thing existed. With dreaded fellowships and internships to naturally follow during my kids' adolescence. At this point, I've probably already been approved for tenure whether I want it or not. If there is one thing I could conceivably claim any sort of expertise in, it's being able to make it to the end of the day while keeping things interesting along the way. But in the end, that's kind of all that matters.
*I don't think I've actually ever told anyone I was a writer. It's more of a pretend occupation I give myself.
^I think "emerging adult" is how that age cohort is referred to these days.
Before I "retired", I spent sevens year working in higher ed - five at my most recent place of employment, and two at my first "real job". In the world of higher ed, five years tends to be a notable, if not somewhat arbitrary, marker. Colleges and universities (and high schools too I guess) typically hold class reunions every five years in effort to keep their alums connected to the institution and ultimately make sizable donations to the school to pay for a new building, or just offset the rising cost of higher education. I actually have a reunion for my undergrad class coming up this coming summer.
One of the questions that colleges like to ask their alums (or at least the school I went to) is, if given the chance, would the alum choose that particular school again if they were a college bound kid^. Obviously there is a healthy amount of subjectivity that goes into this question and ultimately the answer. You would figure, given the magnitude of the decision, and the fact that the alum might still be making sizable student loan payments, that most would indicate that they would enroll in their alma mater if they had a chance to do it all over again. And let's be honest, who wouldn't want to do college all over again. College and university administrators love to champion these responses if they show the institution in a positive light from the perspective of their alumni (again, at least the school I went to). It can be a powerful marketing tool for perspective students - "Come here because our alums loved it so much they would come back again if they could!"
In case you were wondering, and you probably aren't but I'm going to tell you anyway, if I had the chance to go back to college, I would pick my alma mater. Yes, that underscores the confirmation basis narrative. But it is not in attempt to validate what was ultimately a poor decision that set me back somewhere in the neighborhood of six figures. I've written before how impactful my education experience was, especially my time in higher ed. It was certainly an expensive endeavor, but one that I feel has paid off in dividends far beyond the actual sticker price of the school.
This is not to say that if I had a chance to do it all over again I wouldn't do things a least a little bit different. Maybe I would have picked a different major - English, maybe? Then I could really call myself a writer. I certainly look back on my four year experience in university and see mistakes that I made. Like that time I drank an excessive amount of cheap vodka and passed out before 11pm. It's those experiences that we learn from that help move us forward. Maybe I would have spent more/less time in the Library - the actual one and/or the drinking establishment that went by that name. We can always look back and say, "should've, could've, would've". The visual acuity of hindsight is pretty undisputed.
So, it begs the question - for the content of this blog at least - five years later, if I had to choose to become a stay-at-home parent again, would I? The answer is most certainly yes. I've commented before on how when this "social experiment" is all said and done, there will likely be no part of me that regrets having had this opportunity to stay at home with my kids. It's something I continue to believe is true, especially as I seem to be nearing the end of my tenure. Sure there is a certain amount of confirmation bias in this response too. You would be hard pressed to find many parents who would make the claim that they wasted the last five years of their life being the primary caregiver of their kids. They are certainly out there, but they are a special breed.
This is not to say that if we were about to welcome a newborn into the world, something I am now physiologically incapable of assisting with, and I had the next five years ahead of me as a stay-at-home parent that I wouldn't do things a little different. Above and beyond anything, being a stay-at-home parent has been a learning experience. I've learned a lot about myself, and my kids, and my wife, and our familial relationship. And sometimes the things I learn one day render themselves useless the following day, or the following hour. I didn't have many expectations going into this gig, and I don't have many expectations coming out of it. My main objective was primarily to keep the stress level low, and things relatively congenial in our day to day operations. In that regard, I feel like I've mostly succeeded. Again, the key is to set the bar pretty low.
The last few years have certainly been a rollercoaster of high highs and at times some pretty low lows. But so far, no one has fallen off the ride and we haven't had any mechanical failures that weren't ultimately fixable. Life, especially life with kids, can have a tendency to resemble an amusement park at times. Equal parts exciting and fun, while also terrifying and exhausting. And always more foods made solely from sugar than are reasonably necessary. And usually insanely expensive. Having had the opportunity to be at home with our kids, I feel like I've been better able to regulate what "life amusement park attractions" my kids have experienced. I've also been able to pack bologna sandwiches - something my Mom always did when we made our occasional trips to Valleyfair.
If there is one thing in particular that I've learned from a "professional development" standpoint during my five year tenure as a stay-at-home parent, is that as parents we're all about the same level of clueless when it comes to trying to raise our kids. If you prefer the Tom Cochrane "Life is a Highway" metaphor, it's like we're all trying to navigate the same road of family life. But we have no idea exactly where we are going, how long that trip is going to take, and how often we will need to stop for bathroom breaks. We're all traveling at different speeds but ultimately navigating the same general twists and turns (medical emergencies, financial ruin, teens in puberty) and mundane straightaways (sitting through another dance recital/soccer match/game of Guess Who). And we're all driving different vehicles; some of us in Mazda Miatas, some in oversized SUVs, and the rest of us in Dodge Caravans.
One thing that I've noticed, as our society has become both more connected and simultaneously isolated at the same time, is this general attitude that we think we can figure things out on our own, and assume others can do the same. When I see a vehicle pulled over on the side of the road, I often wonder if I should stop and offer assistance. But then I assume that the driver probably has a cell phone and can just call someone they know for help, or a look up the number for a tow truck. Plus I typically have one or more young passengers with me, and I have to consider the chances that the person pulled over might actually be a serial killer. Safety first, right?
To a certain degree, I think this attitude has permeated other areas of our lives, and parenting in particular. As a parent, it can be easy to look at other parents and believe that they have everything figured out, while you are subsequently hanging on by a thread. By and large, we know that is likely a facade - the "social media being a window in the lives we want others to think we are living" phenomenon. And even though we know that everyone has their own shit they are dealing with, when it looks like they are doing a good job of dealing with that shit, it makes us wonder why we can't handle our own shit with similar success (sorry for the profanity, Mom).
A few months ago, my wife and I took trip to Greece to celebrate our 10 year wedding anniversary - you may recall our actual anniversary was relatively tame. We had a phenomenal week and a half enjoying the blue Mediterranean waters, an abundance of delicious Greek food and wine, and not having offspring to look after. Given that this was our first international trip without kids, I found myself observing families occasionally, particularly during the time when we were actually traveling. Watching these families travel with young children made me glad I was not doing the same. But I also found myself taking note of how parents of different cultures navigate the "opportunities" that have a tendency to arise when children are thrust into rather inhospitable situations - air travel, city buses, etc.
What I took away from those observations was that at the end of the day, we're all trying to get to the same place. Presumably to bed, in one piece, with the prospect of a tomorrow - and hopefully a better one. Sure there are some best practices when it comes to life in general, and parenting in particular, but ultimately we choose our own adventure on how to get there. Hopefully we all have the capacity and ability to make the decisions related to our own personal well being to live the life we ultimately want to, uncontrollable circumstances notwithstanding. Or, in the parenting spectrum in particular, to again quote our old daycare provider, "You gotta do what you gotta do to be the parent you want to be."
I try to keep this perspective when I struggle to find fulfillment in day to day activities that can make me feel like a volunteer Uber driver or Instacart delivery person for my children. I recently got together with a friend who just started his own stay-at-home tenure, and he quipped about his realization that lowering his standards was ultimately going to make him happier. Happier with the things he felt he could accomplish as a parent, and happier with how he navigated the various curveballs that life threw at him. But as Ruth Whippman suggests in her book, America the Anxious, part of keeping our sanity, especially as parents, may be recognizing that so much of our happiness depends on factors that are outside of our control. When we are faced with those factors, we can't have high expectations, or any for that matter, and have little choice but to just "wing it".
There is safety in numbers though, and this is why we have each other. The village that it takes to raise the next generation of the world's leaders or tech coders. Those who are just getting into the business of procreation can certainly look to the elders who have been down that road before, for guidance on what and and most certainly what not to do, but would ultimately do it all over again if given the chance. Of course we "elders" know quite well that the chance of us actually being in that situation ever again is incredibly slim. As our kids have grown, and our oldest recently celebrated her ninth birthday, I know the time is coming sooner than later when I will get nostalgic for the days that were a whirlwind of mac and cheese, slime and dance class, when the main objective was just get through the day.
Having spent the last 5+ years at home with my kids, one could argue that I should be getting close to completing my PhD in parenting, if such a thing existed. With dreaded fellowships and internships to naturally follow during my kids' adolescence. At this point, I've probably already been approved for tenure whether I want it or not. If there is one thing I could conceivably claim any sort of expertise in, it's being able to make it to the end of the day while keeping things interesting along the way. But in the end, that's kind of all that matters.
*I don't think I've actually ever told anyone I was a writer. It's more of a pretend occupation I give myself.
^I think "emerging adult" is how that age cohort is referred to these days.
