Enjoying My Joy's Joy

Research tells us that happiness declines after children enter the household. (link). This is, of course, stupid.

Averaging is Dumb

When I think of the 100 happiest days in my life. I fail to count more than ten that happened before my daughter was born. By this, I do not mean that the top 90 are about her. But joy has entered my life in different ways than before. Be it hanging out with friends or family. Witnessing in awe the beauty of motherhood. Noticing how my values change. Seeing my parents fly all over the world to enjoy being grandparents. Calming your child after a fall. Coming home and being greeted by the people you love.

When I think of the 100 most overwhelming days in my life. I fail to count more than ten that happened before my daughter was born. Scheduling work. Canceling plans. Narrowing one's radius. Negotiating for time. Washing. Hoping things dry. Being sick for a semester every year. Parenthood is a hard thing.

Reproductive Imperative

I come from an interrupted line of people who reproduced. Some were awful people. As many, I have rape colored skin. My DNA --60% conquistador, 40% conquered-- built its diversity from Catholic marriages, between Spanish men and conquered women.

Some are great people. From experience, I love my Grandpa Rigo. From awe, I love my great Grandma Olivia. She raised a Grandpa I never met after her impregnator dismissed him. My dad loves his dad. He is the paragon of everything good. This Bastard, Olivia's son, came from nothing to become a Congressperson and, among others, had a son who loves him, whom I love.

This world we live in is fucking grey. Nothing is fully good. Nothing is fully bad. Memories, though, take the shades we choose to store. Indeed, the existence of psychotherapists is testament to the multi-tonality of memory. Ultimately, when choosing to become parents, we do it because it is hard. And hard things are the only ones that matter.

Experience v Memory

As the late Daniel Kahneman explained, our life experience is distinct from the life we remember. So is the choice of having children. There is never a good enough time. There is never enough money. Partnerships are never at the point of handling a child's demands. But most of us have children nonetheless. We do this because we believe we can give them a life worth experiencing, a life worth remembering.

The non-identity problem gives us some respite. So long as our children believe their lives are worth living, any pain and tribulation we may inflict upon them is philosophically pardoned. Armchairs can be cold places. This notion serves as a baseline. But hopefully not an aspiration for anyone.

Any hard choice is ultimately an experiment on hope. I choose to have a child with someone. I hope my child will be ok. I know it will take a toll. I will forget most of it. I will remember the good and devalue the tough. I might look foolish to single people. What about your savings? Your figure? Your passions? But their questions show how much our values drift apart.

Seismic shift

I was alone with my daughter for 90 minutes during her first three hours alive. As I calmed her for the first time, I noticed how my value system experienced a change. I used to have priorities, simply ranked from 1 to whatever. Now, zero appeared. My daughter's well-being is zero. And zero is a fucking strong number. The only number indeed that can fold reality to its indefinite will.

White and Black

As a good Millennial, I see loving myself as my first priority, with my relationships with my partner, work, friends, and family nestled among the single-digit ranks. But “my children didn’t choose to be born, I chose to have children". They do not deserve everything from me, but they deserve my best.

The non-identity problem can give respite to some. So long as our children believe their lives are worth living, any pain and tribulation we may inflict upon them is philosophically pardoned. Armchairs can be cold places. This notion can serve as a baseline. But hopefully not an aspiration for anyone. Or at least to fewer as time goes by.

Schwarze Pädagogik

A century ago, the great-grandparents of the people who live around me were advised to work to break their children's will before the age of three. Human filth explained that children do not remember what we do to them in their early years. Therefore, taking their will for freedom helps make family life better in the long term. This doctrine saw its more extreme notion in the advice to doctors to operate without anesthesia on babies. The filth explained that babies cannot experience pain. Even if they cry or pass out, no baby has ever complained when they grow up. Filth.

Rainbows

My daughter is in love with small things. People around her are having babies, and her parental instinct is on high. Things have two sizes: baby --> small, MAMA --> GROSS. I know I should help her learn the proper words. Nothing brings joy to my heart more than listening to her joy as he encounters small things.

Papa, die Baby Kastanie ist Klein!

I do not like chestnuts. They taste like dry potatoes when roasted. But what joy. Seeing her carrying a chestnut around town, bringing it up to our house. Storing it. Shouting in joy when seeing it again the next day. I do not think I could explain to my 2022 self the joy this smallish chestnut brought to my life. Yet, these sparks of joy happen almost every day.

Compersion

There is a word for this vicarious joy. It comes from literature on polyamorous families, which makes a lot of sense. If, after a tough conversation, a partnership decides to allow others in, the benefits should outpace the costs. Feeling the joy your partner experiences has to be among those top ones. Compersion, is one of the main mechanisms through which I have experienced joy during the past years.

Neon Noir

Euphoria chose to focus on adolescence because that stage of life amplifies emotion; teenagers feel experiences more intensely, making the themes of identity, desire, and pain hit harder. We can all empathize with the feeling of being young, anxious, and excited to experience life. But, there is a qualia gap between seeing Zendaya on the screen and my daughter at home. Sure, I am not experiencing either. But the connection to my daughter helps me feel as strongly as my body can the marvels of being alive.

CODA

I will impart a vast portion of my daughter's trauma. I work to avoid passing along the one from prior generations. But my actions, independent of their intentions, will leave their marks. I cannot know today what memories she will have of me. How strong will our relationships be in 30 years. Or even if we will have 30 years. But I do feel how much I love her, how precious she is to me. And I am confident in working to give her the best life I can.

It might be that my experiences are less happy every day than if I had remained childless. But lives are not measured in averages. The extremes we remember are what give our lives meaning. Career success and relationship highs can reach the top too, but they face new competition from a much more generative source: my joy's joy.