I’ve often wondered if we could tell our pre-child selves exactly what becoming a parent would mean — the sacrifices, the inhuman patience, the changes, the lack of sleep, the disappearance of late weekend brunches, the leash that binds you to your kids — how many of us would decide against procreation?
It’s not easy being a parent, but given the opportunity, would we want to return to pre-child life? I certainly wouldn’t. No, it’s not our children that make us unhappy. I’d argue that our children allow us to see the world more joyfully and with fewer pretenses. No, the source of our lugubriousness lies elsewhere.