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Parenthood

Here is the most-perfect paragraph on parenting I know of, from an essay by Phillip Lopate:

What is important to an adult and what matters to a child are so often at variance that it is a wonder the two ever find themselves on the same page. Parents may feel an occasional urge to spend money extravagantly on their offspring, only to discover that it means very little to the children themselves. You buy an expensive antique Raggedy Ann doll for your kid that she tosses in a corner, thinking it ugly and musty, meanwhile much more enthralled by the shiny plastic action figure they give out free at McDonald’s. And yet, if you’re like me, you keep falling into the trap of costly, unappreciated presents, perhaps because they’re not really for your child but for the child-self in you who never got them when you were growing up.

 Lopate is arguing that adults are fools; adults have sentimental ideas about childhood, and children themselves don't share these ideas.

A very "iffy" adult sentence is: "I'm trying to do something nice for you!" What is the child meant to do, burst into applause? Adults have an idea of what is nice, and adults tend not to consult children for their input. So, when children are unimpressed, adults become (irrationally) flustered.

I think of this paragraph when I read James Marshall to my son. A part of me suspects that Joshua is murmuring: Oh my God, another George and Martha? But Joshua can't find the words to form a protest. So--crafty guy that he is--he makes his point by becoming obsessed with a light fixture. I'm offering a masterpiece of world literature, and Joshua is engaged in a loud dialogue with a cheap, dusty sconce. Joshua wins the battle.

I agree with Lopate: When I launch a Marshall Fest, in the guise of "doing something nice for the baby," I am in fact trying to do something nice for myself. Of course Josh is, appropriately, irritated.

I love just about everything Lopate writes, and the rest of the essay above, "Tea at the Plaza," is equally dazzling. Basically, the Lopate family takes their little girl to the Plaza, where she shows little or no enthusiasm, and the day almost falls apart. But then the girl gets excited about a dirty, scummy balloon (KIDS!), and everyone's emotions take a turn. But, finally, the balloon floats away.

I like the essay because each of the characters is just a tiny bit absurd, and the twists and turns feel true to life, and it's also an event that maybe no one else would think to dramatize. Lopate's way of describing a potentially-sappy journey--tea at the Plaza!--without even a hint of sap.....is exhilarating.

Have I really learned something from this Lopate essay? Time will tell. Last night, I did force Joshua to sit through five hippo stories. I have some concerns about my own emotional density....
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