I Don't Want My Kids to be Happy

If you ask most parents what they want most for their kids when they grow up, you will probably hear something like,
“I want my child to...

• get into a good college.”
• have a job that pays well and fulfills them.”
• get married.”
• have a family.”
• be a good member of society.”
• live close to me.”
• move out of the house.”

And ultimately, you will hear that parents want all of these things for their offspring when they are fully grown because, “I just want my child to be happy.”

I get it. Oh boy, do I get it.

You hold this tiny infant in your hands and they NEED you for everything.
For food.
For changing their diapers.
For warmth.
For burping.
For peek-a-boo marathons.

Then this baby grows into a toddler who NEEDS you for many of the same things, but also to learn how to walk, speak, sleep, play, apologize, laugh, and listen.

You know the rest. Your kid grows up and their NEED for you lessens for the physical stuff, but their NEED for the emotional stuff increases.
In understanding.
In patience.
In listening.
In refraining from screaming as you sit in the passenger seat when they are learning how to drive.

This once baby is turning into a real-life human adult and BOY HOWDY, you sure wish you did everything you could to prepare them for the “real world.” You pray that they won’t get mixed up in all of the crappy things that ruin lives. You hope they STAY AWAY from drugs.
From negative people.
From addictive substances.
From dating jerks.
From internet predators.
From vaping.
From using too much Axe body spray.

You just want them to have happy lives. You want these humans you have raised to take all that energy, time, money you have spent with them and turn it into something great. You want them to be happy.

What makes a human happy, though?

Are people who went to amazing universities and got killer jobs with the spouse and three kids the only happy ones on earth?

I don’t think so.

Because, if so, that sucks.

I know enough people to know that those things do not make one happy. That there are happy people who have all or some of those things and there are miserable people who have all of those things. I am sure that you, too, may know someone who has NONE of those things and is one of the kindest, happiest of humans you have met.

Back to my four kids. Yes, I have FOUR!

In some circles and societies, that is a crap-ton of little humans to raise. And in other circles, it’s a quaint little number. “Ahh, how cute that you only have four kids. I remember when my first ten kids were all married with at least three kids of their own and I had four children at home left to raise.”

Regardless, I look at all four of my kids and think, “Well, what can we do? How can I help you become the best version of ADULT YOU as possible?”

Here’s what I DO know after only sixteen years of this parenting gig:

Happy is not a thing.

Happiness is a byproduct and result of other things.
Of actions.
Of choices.
Of decisions.

If I want my kids to be happy, then they need MORE than a few random items that MY experiences have helped make me happy.

I went to college. It was great. I have gotten some good jobs and some bad jobs. I married a really rad man who luckily is more my best friend now than he was almost 19 years ago. I have four kids who are pretty freakin’ awesome.

Is that why I am happy? If my kids have the same things I have, will they then share my level of happiness?

Nah.

I don’t buy it.

I want my kids to become the greatest humans they can be. And not college nor jobs nor family can make them “happy.”

(So… what can? Get to the point, already, Anna)

There are FOUR things I want for my kids when they become adults to know, be, and do. They are, in no particular order:

1. Know how to work hard.

2. Be kind. To everyone.

3. Love and take care of their body.

4. Believe in something greater than them.

That’s it. Granted each one is a pretty big ask and hope in itself.

For example, if I teach my kids to work, they will expect to add to society and not be a taker. There is nothing less attractive than entitlement and laziness. If my kids can WORK, then they will know that if they apply themselves, they will be able to provide.

If they are kind, they will treat everyone with respect. They will not post photos of strangers on “People of Walmart” or laugh at someone who is mentally ill. They will give people the benefit of the doubt and not bully or demean others who are different (or better or worse or equal). Kind people know that when they serve others, that everyone wins/everyone feels happiness. Kindness is a practice and a habit.

I could go on and on (even more than I already have). Someday I may expound on the details of each of the four things I hope to help my children learn.

So I guess I do want them to be happy. Of course, I do. But I don’t wish any prescribed future for my kids. I have NO idea what life has in store for them. I do know that if I help prepare them with tools they can control, that there will be happiness.

And I hope they live close to me. That would definitely add to my happiness.

Mom Friends

When I became a mother, I remember my own mother telling me her own grown daughters were her closest friends. She said, "I don't have time to make other friends anymore."

I, of course, thought that was kind of sad. I had friends that weren't family. I had my close friends from high school and colleges, still. Some that I saw often and some that I kept in touch with over Facebook and email. I was making friends in church and in my neighborhood.

Of course, I also counted my mom and sisters as friends. Of course.

As a young mother, there are many hours where even though you are surrounded by people--the little ones you are responsible for growing into big ones--you can feel oh-so-very-much alone. The kind of loneliness that makes you weep when you finally see another adult who smiles at you. It's hard to explain if you haven't experienced it.

For the first twelve years of being a mother, I stayed at home. I was with my kids all day long and worked when they were asleep. My husband worked long hours and was generous with my need to leave the house alone as soon as he came through the door. We were both exhausted... but grateful.

Of course we were grateful. Of course.

But that doesn't change the fact that we were just plain tired.

I craved friendships. Other women and mothers to talk about our children and our level of exhaustion. Maybe just to smile and laugh and say "me too, girl. Me too."

In the last few decades, there have been many women who have filled that loneliness for me. As I have moved multiple times and changed states, cities, neighborhoods, church groups, school districts, there have been many wonderful friends to make those adjustments easier and give some variety to a sometimes monotonous life.

When I started to work outside of the home again, I noticed that it was more difficult to maintain those fellow-mother friendships. Being able to drop everything and head to the park wasn't an option anymore. And I didn't have any kids to take to the park as they were all in school. I've been at the park in the middle of the day and wondered about the lone adults, just watching everyone (my kids!) play. Yeah, I wasn't going to just head to the park without my kids.

Even a spontaneous lunch became more difficult. I often had a meeting or a lunch with a new or potential client... "but let's meet for lunch really soon."

I've had to learn to schedule! Me! Schedule!

"I can meet for lunch on Tuesday at 1 or Friday at 11. Do either of those work for you?"

And once my kids get home from school, I bust home to help with homework, music practicing, driving my kids to activities, spending some quality time. Oh yeah, and the family wants dinner, so...!

Sometimes I leave at night to spend some time with friends. But then I feel guilty. I should be with my husband. Or my kids. Or finally reading that book I need to know for work. Or, I don't know... maybe exercise???

It's weird, seeing friendships move and change without me physically moving. Friends going to concerts together. Friends traveling the world together. Friends having girls night together. Without me. Not because I couldn't, but because I haven't keep those relationships strong enough to be on the list.

Listen, I get it. I tell this shiz to my kids all the time: "You get what you give." "The more you put in, the more you'll like what you get out." "You can't expect a tree to grow without watering it." Etc etc and Zzzzzzz.

I have new work friends and relationships. I have a few friends who I am only growing closer to as we have to work harder to spend time together and serve each other. I have made a few new friends because of the new connections I have made working and not spending those hours alone at the park.

It's made me think a lot about the length of a friendship. It isn't always forever. It isn't always for a decade. Sometimes it's for a year. Or for an event. Sometimes a friendship is strongest on Facebook and Instagram. That doesn't lessen the relationship. It's just a different kind of friendship to add to your life. 

Some of the friendships I have made online have been some of the realest I have ever had. There is such support and love. I have met a few of these friends in real life, and we embrace and chat as though we had been friends for decades.

Of course there are all kinds of friendships. Of course.

As I am getting older, though, I see my mom's comment differently. I serve my kids often. I tuck them in, I hold them when they are sad, I celebrate with them when they are happy. I take care of them when they are sick, I feed them, I work so they can have clothes, I help with their homework. It is true that you become closest to those whom you serve... and who you allow to serve you. My kids serve me with kisses and hugs and holding my hand.

They are becoming my best friends. The kind of friends I will have even if I move. Even if Instagram dies tomorrow. Even if they travel the world with other friends. Just like my mother is one of my best friends.

You're right, Mom. Of course you are. Of course.

a

Mom Jokes

In sixth grade I realized that I was funny.

And that nobody cared.

Our entire sixth grade class was sitting on the floor in a circle, because OBVIOUSLY that is what you do in sixth grade. You sit on floors in a circle. Bless the hearts of sixth grade teachers.

We were sitting in a circle and my teacher made some comment and I replied with some snarky comeback, but fairly under my breath. I mean, I didn’t want to get in trouble or anything.

Nobody laughed.

TWO seconds later, Nathan N said the EXACT SAME THING but louder and with that sixth-grade boy inflection. Everyone busted up laughing.

Well, I didn’t. I am pretty sure I looked right at him with a confused face, like “whoa, bro! Did you really just say what I just said?”

Here’s the thing: I don’t think people realize that they take jokes and claim them as their own. It’s happened to me and I have seen it happen so many times throughout my life, that I believe these “joke amplifiers” think that the little joke angel on their shoulder whispered it into their ears.

Some people imagine that they have an angel and a devil perched on their shoulders, telling them what to do (or not to do). Other people must think that there are joke angels, whispering funny comebacks and puns. Oftentimes, I bet you those "joke angels" are telling jokes someone else just said or some joke they saw before and now are claiming as their own. Not maliciously, mind you. Just unaware.

I wrote a joke recently with a little naked boy eating a loaf of bread. I wrote on it:

"Go to bed? I thought you said, 'Go the bread'!"

It just came to me so easily and I thought to myself, "Ha! Genius. You've done it again, Anna!"

Two separate comments mentioned that it was a line from the Simpsons. D'oh.

I'm not even sure if I saw that Simpsons episode, but I could have. We are all guilty of repurposing other people's jokes—intentionally or not. Because there isn't really such a thing as a new joke. We are all borrowing humor from everywhere and everyone. That's why we all laugh at similar things.

In fact, some of my favorite jokes are most definitely not my own. They are the quintessential "dad jokes" that I, of course, love to call "mom jokes" because duh, I'm a mom.

Here are my Top Ten Mom Jokes (for now)—feel free to use them and claim as your own, because that's what we do and that's who we are... and I'm over it, Nathan N!

And this last one is not funny, per se, but has become notorious around our house. It's impossible to say anything about "driving me nuts" without me talking about cowboy butts. Can't. Help. Myself.

Why do I tell these jokes? Who knows, but I am pretty sure Freud said it best when he explained:

What is YOUR favorite joke to tell? Best joke winner buys dinner!

a