1. We are more surprised when things go well than when they go badly.
You thought parenting would be easier than it is. Yes, you did. So much of this has to do with how the role of children has changed in our society. In past generations, children were mainly born into three contexts: 1) economic necessity (more hands on the farm!), 2) moral obligation (Christian influence), and 3) customary structure (part of the American Dream) (Jennifer Senior, All Joy and No Fun: The Paradox of Modern Parenting).
Today, however, child labor is taboo, the church’s voice has waned, and the American Dream has increasingly become the celebratation of the self-made successes of unconventional entrepreneurs. The “necessity” for children is not as intense as it once was—though children are obviously still being born. The question then becomes why. Into what context and mindset are American children being born in the 21st century?
Jennifer Senior says that today, rather than understood as necessary, children are more often viewed as a high-valued commodity. She explains,
[Parents] approach child-rearing with the same bold sense of independence and individuality that they would any other ambitious life project. … Because so many of us are now avid volunteers for a project in which we were all once dutiful conscripts, we have heightened expectations of what children will do for us, regarding them as sources of existential fulfillment rather than as ordinary parts of our lives. (emphasis added)
In other words, as a commodity, the majority of society says that children exist to make us happy, to boost our egos, to procure pats on the back by the watching world. We have children because we think children will make our lives better.
But if we push our strollers with these ideals in tote, we’re not quite sure what to do when things go sideways—like when our kids pee on the floor while we’re grocery shopping, or refuse to stay in their beds at night, or spray air freshener in their eyes after they broke into the bathroom cabinet, or when, in a much more serious event, the ultrasound discloses an abnormality.
None of these things are “fulfilling.”
Actually, these things are hard—they make our heads ache, and our hearts. And so we get angry about the circumstances, and we huff and puff that our children don’t obey everything we say—all because we had the mixed up expectation that they would.
But if we understand that spiritual warfare is taking place, we may not run as quickly from their rudeness, or at least not in the same way. Having expected it, we may enter into it with correction and kindness. We may not be annoyed that she took a swing at her sister; rather we may be shocked that she shared her Skittles. When we know we’re wrestling demons, disobedience doesn’t surprise so much as obedience does.
2. We appreciate nuance in parenting strategies.
The spiritual warfare at work in parenting means that this is complicated work—much more complicated than the blanket approach of so many parenting models. There are so many moving parts in every family context, not to mention the differences in children. It is silly that we’d think there is a one-size-fits-all approach for how the details should go every time. Parenting models that suggest otherwise are full of reductionisms and overreactions, whether that means always letting the baby cry it out or always having them in the bed with mom and dad. When we seize onto one model over another, we are adopting its pros and its cons (which every system has)—and worse, we are often sucked into a tribal mentality that vilifies parents who do it differently than us.
Parenting is hard enough. We are wrestling demons. Rather than be a mindless evangelist for a certain model, offer help and your experience when you’re asked, and consider backing off when you’re not.
