THE BOOKLESS CLUB TALKS PARENTING

Nature versus nurture: How much lasting influence do we actually have on kids?

We’re entering the parent pageant season.

Mother’s Day. Father’s Day. In the U.S., there’s even a presidentially appointed Grandparents Day.

Ahhhh … children. Darling, precious, irreplaceable children. I have them. Two, in fact. I love ’em, I do. And what’s more, most of the time, I actually like them. Most of the time. Children are the most expensive, inconvenient and labour-intensive project I’ve ever undertaken. And, if they learn nothing from my exhausted example, I’ll be rewarded with expanded duties caring for grandchildren.

Truth be told, I can hardly wait. The best explanation the academics have for this is that having purpose in life equates with happiness. If you want a purpose-laden life, have children. Soooo much purpose. Three-a.m.-teething purpose. Styrofoam-ball-galaxy purpose. Thirty-two-cupcakes-on-shortnotice purpose.

The parenting “return on investment” timeline is really, really long, but it’s there. Nobel Prize-winning behavioural economist Daniel Kahneman says that the happiness delivered by parenthood is best appreciated in the rear-view mirror. In the moment of parenting, it often seems like mind-numbing work, but years later, there’s a rosy nostalgia for those early days in the trenches.

Historians tell us that the concept of a pristine childhood is a recent invention. In days of yore, it was children who had purpose. They were an extra pair of hands, and woe betide the ones who didn’t earn their keep. Children were staff and parents were the boss. Today, it’s the kids who seem to be calling the shots. What’s more, they believe that this is natural law. I’d wager that all sacred text exhorts the kidlets to show reverence for Mom and Pop, but that concept is losing its lustre.

Fran Lebowitz declares that you should ask a child what he wants for dinner only if he’s buying. In Princeton sociologist Vivian Zelizer’s estimation, children are “economically worthless but emotionally precious.” We’re all acquainted with the indulged, over-scheduled child being ferried between extracurricular activities. Statistics claim that in the mid-1960s, when most mothers didn’t work outside the home, they spent about four hours less per week on child-rearing than mothers today. In fact, the distinction is made between the nomenclature of the mid-century “housewife” and the current designation of the “stay-at-home-mom.”

Tending to our orchid offspring is often a full-time job. Usually on top of our full-time jobs.

Jennifer Senior’s excellent book, All Joy and No Fun: The Paradox of Modern Parenthood, examined many of the issues around how we raise kids today. One idea that struck me was the private sentimentalization of our own kids and the collective indifference to other people’s children. Our children are — and I say this as a doting parent of ex-cep-tion-al human beings — one of the purest expressions of narcissism. We revel in their achievements, real and imagined. Essentially, it’s the flip side of that childhood taunt, “My dad can beat up your dad.”

I’ve had friends lose a child to addiction, whereas their other children have sailed through to adulthood. I have friends whose adopted children seem more similar to them than the children they gave birth to. My secret conviction is that, beyond obvious neglect, when it comes to kids, you get what you get. It’s hard work and it’s gratifying because it is hard work, but outcomes are not assured. A friend weighed in with this little parenting gem: If your child grows into a wholesale success, seize full parental credit because if the child grows into a public nuisance, you know who is going to get the blame. Jane Macdougall is a freelance writer and former National Post columnist who lives in Vancouver. Her garden is her major distraction during COVID-19. She will be writing on The Bookless Club every Saturday online and in The Vancouver Sun.

THIS WEEK’S QUESTION FOR READERS: RESPONSES TO LAST WEEK’S QUESTION FOR READERS:

Q What awful truth about yourself has come to your attention during this time of social constriction? Conversely, has your “better angel” revealed itself ? What is the great lesson COVID-19 is teaching individuals?

I am a loner. I have taught

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myself many things that require spending time alone. During this epidemic, I was content to do my own thing in the basement, until I accidentally dropped something into the drain. Needing a pipe wrench, I phoned my neighbour. He said his daughter was just admitted to the hospital, if I hurried, he could hand me the tool. I jogged to his house as fast as I could. It turned out that visiting patients was not permitted, and I could stay for tea. I discovered that even a loner needs human socializing sometimes. Roxy Paul Sun

I’m giving myself permission

■ to slow down. Even while doing mundane tasks, I slow down and think about what I’m doing and how it feels. Why am I always rushing to complete tasks when there’s nowhere to go and nothing to do? We’re being forced to live in and make the most of the moment. For me, it’s a relief. Jennifer Huggins

It’s weird, right? Where so

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many of us yearn to get back to the office to feel that social, in-person connection, I simply sigh. I am not an introvert — far from it — but these last six weeks at home have been, dare I say, blissful? Sure, my home circumstances may more easily accommodate a life working from home. But is it weird to admit that I don’t really miss seeing my colleagues face-toface? I see this less as a slight to my colleagues and more as a reflection on the positive impact virtual connectivity can have, despite traditionalist workplace views. Janet Dean

I have realized that I would

■ rather have my mother, who is in her 90s and locked in a seniors residence getting boxed meals delivered to her door, get sick and die of COVID-19 right now than go through a year of what the last six weeks has been like. She has lived a long and healthy life, and I would rather see her suffer for two weeks and lose her than watch her suffer for months and months and be unable to help. Is that an awful truth, or my better angel? Faye Konyi

I think I speak for many people ■ as I am quickly realizing or have realized what is really important in life. It’s not the stuff that we seem to fill our homes with. It is our health and the people we used to be able to have a coffee with, or a walk with, or visit with, or help, or hug, or kiss, or play a game of tennis with. Most material things can be replaced, but interactions with friends, family, acquaintances and even strangers cannot. Alison Sedun