Practicing joy in parenthood

Of all the things I thought I’d struggle with in parenthood, I never imagined I’d have to practice this…

J O Y.

I often feel that I’m easily overwhelmed by the tedium, the messes, the chaos, the anxiety, the stress, and all those worst, most exhausting moments of life with small children. I’ve found myself counting down the minutes until my kids go to sleep. And then I feel like a failure at being present and attentive because I’m angry or frustrated, especially when the behavior feels like a daily pattern I begin to dread. 

When I imagined the kind of parent I’d be, I saw visions of laughter and singing and dancing in the kitchen together. And those things are all there. I love my children in ways I don’t even fully comprehend yet. But in practical, everyday life, how do you embody that ideal of how you want to be with them in these moments when you’re frustrated and defeated by the mundane and the stressful? 

I’ve discovered that I can practice having joy. And I don’t mean “joy” in some sort of sweeping, cliche way where you just remember to feel grateful and happy and everything gets better. I’m talking about actually practicing a discipline of reframing a moment, swapping one lens for another. 

If you saw that insane bedtime witching hour with different eyes, perhaps your own in 20 years when your kids are grown or those of someone who’d give anything to have a chaotic bedtime routine with children of their own, it might feel easier to practice joy in those tough moments. It’s true that joy is emotion, but just like happiness, it can also be a state of mind that can be practiced.

So what does that look like? Just like smiling can trick your brain into happiness, remembering your joy can manifest it. If you practice taking a breath, simply remembering the word “joy,” and embracing those little ones despite their crappiness in that moment, you can find yourself releasing some of your anger or annoyance and feel hopeful in the big picture within which that little struggle fits. 

I’ve been practicing this over the past weeks, and I’ve been much more patient and so much happier. I feel as though I’m wasting fewer precious moments feeling sorry for myself or resenting the stress in my life and more time acting out the love I have for these wild kiddos.

For instance, at bedtime, Arthur was messing with a new toy he’s excited about instead of getting on his pajamas. I repeated myself several times. I was tired and my blood was boiling, resenting him, feeling unappreciated, and just so eager to get these kids to bed and be over with it and done with him for the night. Feeling that way is understandable, but I often don’t act as my best self when those are the feelings bubbling inside of me.

But I remembered to “practice” thinking about if I could find a sliver of joy in this moment for his sake. I even laughed to myself when I remembered it because it felt so weird. But then I took a good look at him, trying to think about joy, and then the words ringing in my ears like “defiance” and “stubborn” and “annoying”, were replaced with “little” and “imaginative” and “silly.” I’m truly, completely stunned how well it worked. If this practice can create some joy in the toughest bedtimes, I may have uncovered the secret for how to survive parenthood.

As we practice focusing on the positive, it grows. As we keep noticing these moments with even a sliver of that positivity, becoming joyful will come with more ease. If you can change how you see the moment you’re in, you can change your attitude, and then your behavior in it. 

Now let me be clear, this doesn’t mean that I’ve stopped enforcing our rules and expectations for their behavior. But it does mean that I walk out of a situation without the baggage of disappointment in my behavior or shame for how I feel about them in that moment. 

Or just today, I kept trying to get things done and Ulysses would cry every time I set him down. He’s 25lbs and 19 months old, and I can do very little when he needs me to hold him. I was so annoyed, said some terse words to him, and I was so over it. But I remembered my new practice, took a breath, and I looked at him trying to remember the joy I feel getting to be his mama. I felt a twinge of perspective that it’s kinda precious that he still needs me so much sometimes. My anger subsided and I felt my body relax, even if I was still bummed that I couldn’t multitask. 

So if you struggle with anger, resentment, frustration, and more with your children and you feel like you get stuck in these patterns too, I’d challenge you to try this. Next time they’re making you totally bonkers, remember the word “joy,” look at them directly, and see if you can shift your perspective in that moment. Just remembering how we want to feel might actually help us feel it again.