Part of this year's project - the whole point of writing Memoir in Pink - is to think about parenting in a focused way. Not just babies and children, but the work of parenting. This week I'm thinking about why we choose to be parents. I think people fall in one of two camps.
Some people understand in their soul that children can teach them things. They know that a child will teach them more about themselves than they can learn on their own. I remember a fall when my oldest son was just a little over two. We stood for hours collecting and sorting gold, orange and yellow leaves. He loved them. I loved him for loving them - for teaching me to notice how beautiful the world is.
Some people have children to learn about themselves - but I think some people also have children to help them forget about themselves. This would be the second camp. After thirty plus years of ruminating on the same hopes, fears, worries and ambitions the decision to have children is a conscious decision to focus on something else for awhile. I little like joining the army - or a cause - or maybe even a cult. I remember reading an interview with Brad Pitt once, where the interviewer asked him if parenting was tough. He said something like "not really. you know I had like forty-five years to focus on myself. I'm kinda over me." I remember nodding "oh yeah" and showing the interview to my husband.
I can't decide which camp I really belong to. How about you? Why did you sign up for this parenting gig? Or maybe it’s not like being an Elvis fan or a Beatles fan (to paraphrase Quentin Tarantino) maybe, it’s possible to be both? I'd love to hear your thoughts.
