(Image by 5540867 from Pixabay)

A really interesting OpEd dropped into my timeline the other day. It was written by Karen Kicack, a writer on the Netflix comedy Working Moms. The article is worth reading in full, but the gist of it can be summarised in the very first paragraph:

“Here is a summary of a conversation I feel like I had countless times during my pregnancy: You think being pregnant is hard? Just wait until your baby is born and sleep exists only in your dreams! Except you’ll never have dreams again because you’ll never sleep again! Anyway, congratulations! Welcome to the Mom Club!”

Kicack explains throughout the article how she found the constant dire warnings about how dreadful parenting was/would be actually became anxiety-inducing rather than reassuring: 

“Suddenly I found myself accosted by other parents who wanted to tell me all the terrible things about motherhood – and how it gets only worse over time.” 

“Why are we so intent on scaring the hell out of new and prospective parents?” 

“Generally I’ve found that talking about how wonderful my baby is to be a great way to end a conversation.” 

But it was this line that really made me think: “We’re all trying to sound like a cool mom – as though we’re Ali Wong or Amy Schumer or the latest straight-talking mother on TikTok.”

The cool mom. The latest straight-talking mother on TikTok. Cool moms reject the toxic positivity. Cool moms don’t hold back about how relentlessly negative parenting is. Cool moms tell it like it is.

The most interesting thing about this article was how refreshing it seemed to me. I wanted to cheer – finally, someone said it! But I’d only be feeling that way if there was indeed an underlying narrative about how really awful parenting is. I’ve spent the last eight years – kicking off around when I told people I was pregnant with my eldest daughter – wondering whether such a narrative really exists. It felt like there was, but was it all in my head? Does parenting really get such bad press, or is it just motivated reasoning on my part, due to my pro-life leanings? I can’t deny that I’m incredibly privileged as a parent. Perhaps my sense of the generally-negative narrative surrounding parenting and pregnancy is no more than a product of that privilege. OK, I quickly got very tired of all the memes about how mums (never dads, never parents, just mums) look dreadful, get no sleep, no time to themselves, even if they end with a heartwarming ‘it’s all worth it’ – but maybe I was some kind of unicorn, or just in denial. Maybe parenting did just suck, even at the best of times.

Kicack, however, does seem to share my sense; she even uses the phrase “parenting–sucks cultural phenomena”:

“Shows like ours – and other such parenting-sucks cultural phenomena that predated it, like the best-selling 2011 parody children’s book “Go the F**k to Sleep” – arose as an antidote to a culture in which stress over parenting could only ever be spoken of in a whisper. Voicing frustrations about your kids felt like something you could safely do just in a priest’s confessional – and never admit to other parents. Now, though, the pendulum has swung all the way in the other direction, as millennial parents are having children later in life and showing no compunction in sharing their displeasure.”

I have no doubt that a culture that shamed negative experiences of parenting existed, and I have no doubt that toxic positivity re parenting still exists today. I hate it. I hate that every time someone tries to positively affirm women in one area, we get an instant backlash of “What about all the other women who don’t feel that way?!!!!!” I have no desire or intention of fueling the toxic mommy-wars and I’m not here to protest that just while it should be OK to not be OK, it should also be OK to be OK.

I’m here to make a different point. I may not like the fact that your hair falls out about twelve weeks postpartum – but it does. No point pretending it doesn’t. It can even be funny to dwell on the fact that it does. So go ahead. Tell me parenting sucks. I won’t tell you you’re wrong. But I want to change the expectation about whether it should suck, in general, in the basic case.

In other words, I’m pushing back specifically against the victim mentality that assures us that even mothers who seem like naturals secretly want to “drown themselves in vodka, file for divorce and pull a bong”. I understand these narratives can be reaffirming if you are struggling, to know you’re not alone. But they also contribute to rendering any discussion of a healthy pregnancy and a happy parenting experience completely socially unacceptable.

So my proposed antidote is to create a space where parents can say whatever the hell they like about parenting, the good and the bad. If someone is really struggling, assure her she’s doing a great job, and ask how you can help. If someone is really enjoying parenting, assure her she’s doing a great job, and ask how you can help. That’s it.

Even giving this advice feels irresponsible, and I’m immediately worrying about what someone who’s struggling will think if they hear someone who’s not struggling being affirmed like that. I need to stop that. The obvious fact that not everyone has a positive parenting experience is not a reason for silencing positive parenting experiences – it’s a reason for increased support. It finally seems like there’s enough discontent out there, there are enough Karen Kacicks, to convince me that the pendulum has swung. It’s not only OK to affirm parenting as a positive contribution to our quality of life, it’s important to do so.

None of this means erasing the genuine struggles people have. It just means reframing the narrative a bit. Motherhood obviously is hard at times – but pretty much everything I enjoy (my job, my hobbies, the Minimise Project, my marriage) is hard at times! Why then do we set the bar for motherhood in particular so low, relative to everything else? Why do we present being stressed and worn out as normal and being overall happy and content as lucky, rather than being overall happy and content as normal and being stressed and worn out as unlucky and/or a sign that you need support?

Let’s make 2024 the year when we start to turn the tide on the relentlessly negative narrative about parenting. This means affirming what’s good about parenting as well as (not instead of) what’s difficult, painful or dreadful about parenting. It means acknowledging the whole package, celebrating the good and consoling and comforting the bad. Everyone has some reason to like being a parent. Let’s find that reason, and remind ourselves and others of it.

Muireann