Are children for better or for worse?

Thursday, May 15, 2008

'That's the magic phrase — handing them back'

By Jane Hardy

In a sense, I'm being a tad fraudulent writing this, as when my sister had her two outstanding offspring, Amber and Henry, she said to me, at the stage when they were adverts for all things Pampers, 'We can share the children'. And in a way, we did.

What this meant in practice was that Vlasta would blithely leave the tiny things with my mother and me, usually suffering from a cold — or was it something worse? — while she and her husband gallivanted off somewhere nice. The result was that my over-concerned mother and I would spend the weekend hovering over the cot, worried sick, definitely sicker than the drooling and puking infants, wondering at what point we should call in the medical experts.

And then, mirabile dictu, we would hand them back, usually well recovered from whatever it was, on Sunday evening. That's the magic phrase, you see, the one about handing them back.

Fast forward to married life and you will see a middle-aged couple, me and Michael, happily still living a footloose and fancy free existence without the need to be back to relieve costly babysitters or worry about teenagers not having arrived home.

Take last weekend, for example, the one where the weather forecasters got it badly wrong and Belfast sweltered, well basked, in Mediterranean temperatures. On Friday we were at a launch party of a local cafe, discussing, over a glass of cava, property prices and whether the previous boom (remember that?) was engineered for political reasons.

Then we went for a meal in a bistro on the Ormeau Road, getting back pleasantly late as we enjoyed the balmy evening. We couldn't have easily done that with kids of any age — young, and it would have meant organising sitters, older and we would have been attached to the mobile, wondering if lifts would be necessary or how late the door would be banged shut, waking us up.

Saturday involved a nice lie-in, again impossible for both of you in a family with children. One of us would have had to be up, quietening the brood so that the other could relax or semi-relax, as you don't ever entirely chill when you're in bed and children are up. Next we had brunch, an extended Ulster fry with coffee and croissants, eaten on the patio at around half eleven. This wouldn't have been the family experience, involving something lighter and healthier and consumed at speed.

A trip to town and Victoria Square to look at clothes occupied the middle of the day pleasantly. With kids, this wouldn't have happened at all, as they haven't the patience to trawl the shops and constantly pester you with questions about when you're going to buy the ice cream bribe.

In the magical evening, we went for a drink, unworried about how long we'd be out, then ate late, knowing we could again lie in a little. We watched a bit of serious TV, not having to argue about what was on or defer to junior tastes.

The Sunday was relaxing, involving a walk in the park, again a sort of brunch since we don't have to conform to the healthy three-meals-a-day routine, and an evening out at a Cathedral Arts Quarter festival gig by Jonathan Richmond which included memorable adults only numbers such as I Was Dancing in the Lesbian Bar. And we knew we could stay for the encores.

Finally, perhaps the greatest argument for child-free bliss, apart from missing out on the childhood illnesses and virulent tummy bugs, is avoiding the teenage years. The angst, the interminable arguments about navel rings or unsuitable relationships, the cruel ripostes, the awful answering back. My niece, of whom I'm very fond, suffered from teenage tantrums for years, in fact into her twenties, starting nuclear arguments and almost forcing her brother to leave home. The moods have subsided, but I'm very glad I didn't have the parenting to do in those turbulent years.

So yes, being in the child-free zone has distinct advantages, not the least of which is the fact you can get romantic if you want to, without worrying about who's listening. Although maybe in any marriage, there is a child — the husband. As Christine Hamilton memorably said about disgraced Tory politician Neil, 'he's my child.'

'I'm so proud of all my children'

By Laurence White

It was one of those screaming headlines: 'Stay childless ... and stay happy'. Not really the words I wanted to read, given that I have six children. If children make you unhappy then my life should be the pits.

But it isn't. Far from making my life unhappy, my children have enriched it beyond measure. They are my legacy to the world, and one of which I am intensely proud. They have given my life purpose.

However, this rosy picture is not shared by Harvard psychology professor Daniel Gilbert, who argues that couples are at their happiest in the years soon after they wed but that once children come along, life becomes less appealing. And happiness takes another hit when the children reach adolescence.

His argument is correct only on a very superficial level. Yes, the sleepless nights with a new baby and the drain on finances that a family imposes makes you realise that being a parent is not a bed of roses — or so my wife, who suffered the lack of sleep and lack of money most, will readily testify.

But you cannot measure happiness by the hours that you sleep or the size of your wallet. Just think of a new baby. No other person in your lifetime will trust you so completely and unconditionally. With even a modicum of parenting skills you can form a bond with that child that will last a lifetime.The child is a miracle that you and your wife have created. How could you not be happy?

There are sacrifices, mostly for the mother. She is the one most likely to have to give up a career — or at least interrupt it — to raise the family. Even if she goes back to work, the demands of family life may well prevent her rising to the level of her single sisters, never mind that of her male colleagues.

And even in these enlightened days, the mother is likely to bear the brunt of the work in the home whether or not she has a career outside of it.

All that, of course, puts pressure on the marriage. The couple have less time for each other because of the demands of their children. They have less income and increased expenditure. But there is a pleasure in getting by under such circumstances. Apart from the gilded few, most people find rearing a family expensive, but just look at what some people will spend in their attempts to have a family. That demonstrates that you cannot put a price on your children.

But don't feel sorry for married couples with children. Save that for singletons, the divorced or even those who are cohabiting.

For Professor Gilbert admits that married couples are happier than single people, even after they have children. "Married people live longer, married people earn more money per capita, married people have more sex and enjoy it more," he says. Happiness is a relative state of mind. Even if you find the children a bit of a bind, remember you would feel worse if you didn't have them.