The constant change is really on point. People used to ask me how things were going with our baby and I’d joke that I was finally really good at taking care of a six week old, but unfortunately my daughter was now 5 months.
The other remarkable thing, though, is that the opposite is somehow also true. My wife and I used to look at our baby daughter in real profound disbelief that she would someday grow into a toddler, a child, a person with her own thoughts and agency and personality that we could actually carry a conversation with. She eventually did, and then some, but what’s amazing is that she’s so obviously been in there the whole time. All of what makes her her, her curiosity, her meticulousness, her emotional intelligence, her imagination, it was always all there from the beginning even as she was going through all of the stages and perpetually transforming. We think back to when we’d ask “how is it possible that this baby will become a real person?” And now we can look at her and at each other and answer “Oh, I see. Just like that.”
This is a great comment. I think a corollary to this, and maybe it’s just me, is that I don’t remember my kids in their various younger stages. I don’t remember my 17 year old’s 10 year old self. Or my six year old’s two year old self. I see pictures but I don’t remember them being that person. Maybe it’s because they’ve always been the same person.
Oh I totally feel this. So many memories of my kids involve my brain erroneously inserting them at their current age into the movies of the past. We do have a pretty big trove of videos of them at all ages and I don’t watch them super often but it can be really jarring when I do.
I LOVED this. And I’m not just saying that because I’m from Paris - though the 'morphing Left Bank' metaphor really resonates - but because it is truly excellent. It connected deeply with a few things I’ve reflected on over the years.
1. Watching a child grow is essentially witnessing an individual evolve in 'high-speed.' It makes me wonder: why don't we grant that same grace to adults? We cling to this myth of the 'Finished' adult and treat the people around us as static fixtures, when everyone is actually a work in progress. Having a baby beautifully ruins that illusion.
2. The way we shift our behavior around children mesmerises me. I love it cause it perfectly captures my view of the adult: a multi-faceted person who reflects different lights depending on which spot you use to illuminate them. The 'professional' and the 'ogre' are at total odds, but that’s not a crisis of character - it’s the fun part. Consistency is boring; the friction between our different selves is where the personality lives. We show different faces depending on the room we’re in, and that is more than fine—it’s fascinating.
3. Finally, there is the beauty of embracing the chaos (a bit of Nietzsche, perhaps?). I love the idea that the streets of our lives are always moving, the Louvre is being relocated, and the ride is always vertiginous. Embracing that chaos doesn't kill our fundamentals; it actually enriches them, make them more complete, strengthen them in unexpected ways...
Thanks for writing this! To me, this was the perfect lunch break - and a beautiful reminder that we are all a collection of strangers, in constant evolution, who happen to share the same universal experience. And hopefully the joy of parenting, discovering and reinventing oneself again and again <3
Being a father doesn’t end when your children are grown up. My children are 51, 49 and 40. They have six children among them. But I am still their father and my relationship with them is still quite different from my relationship with any other people, including my grandchildren.
A time comes when you are a deeply engaged and yet largely helpless spectator. You are proud of the adults they have become and yet you worry about them. Deep concern is the constant. As my wife said when our oldest was born, “we will never feel safe again.”
Is this *the* Martin Wolf? Given the ages, I suspect yes. Sir, I would welcome any reaction you might have to this essay, which represents my (not humble) attempt to ground Hayek's classical liberalism in modern mathematical and physical law. https://www.symmetrybroken.com/maintaining-divergence/
That was a long piece I wrote for the Financial Times in 2009. It was indeed one of the best pieces I have written. At that time, I had not expected the financial sector to be as politically resilient as it has turned out to be. Unfortunately, I am worried about the possibility of another financial crisis. I am also worried about the stability of democracy itself. On that see my recent book, The Crisis of Democratic Capitalism.
This was a stunningly beautiful article. My son and daughter-in-law are expecting their first baby in May. I forwarded the piece to them. It's the best description that I have ever seen of something that is utterly indescribable. I smiled the whole time I was reading it - one of those almost-a-happy-cry smiles. Thank you so much!
As a father of two 30 year olds and grandfather of three I found this piece helpful in capturing the experience of parenting. I have forgotten so much because I was worn out, overwhelmed or preoccupied with my life. Although I tried to notice or remember some of the small things life just moved too fast.
Now I get to notice and enjoy the small things with my grandchildren. I remember unexpectedly baby sitting for my grand daughter when she was only a few days old. I was initially petrified but she was perfect and her parents were only gone for an hour. Little did I realize that was the easiest time to babysit. She has now grown to be a bossy toddler who instructs me on which color of cup I can use. Such a delight!
Just a beautiful articulation of something that’s impossible to capture, Derek. I think the reason cliches exist is that they are universal. That doesn’t mean they aren’t worth expressing — and it makes it even more compelling when they’re given a new spin.
Thank you for this Derek. I was listening to your chat with Tim Miller on his pod and you mentioned this piece. As the father of two daughters - now in their mid-20s - I can safely say that your analogy continues to hold every day. If I close my eyes - I can still recall battling over eating veg in their high chairs, princess tea parties, innumerable travel footy league matches, graduations, and - most recently - "helping" my oldest inspect her new condo (that final one a true out-of-body experience).
Your comments towards the end of the piece about people seen in relation to others spoke so eloquently and (to me) with such elegiac notes. In the past few years, we've lost my father (their grandfather) and wife (their mother) - both to cancer. In reading this piece, I now see how those losses not only impacted us in the absence of that family member, but also in how they change who we are. I am (and we are) no longer quite the same - without being reflected in the perception of my father or wife - especially notable for my daughters' perception of me as a widower (even at my age, that change never ends until it does).
I am very sorry you missed your parents so early. If there would be a Part 4, it would mirror a bit the third one, where you see your wife becoming a mother. Watching your parents pamper your baby is magical too because you can finally, because you most likely forgot, see them as loving parents of your most vulnerable version. You see the roughness melting away and let yourself believe that you melted that roughness too. In a way, being a parent is painful too because of the contrast of what you lacked but yet try to give. It is discovering yourself as much as discovering other.
Beautiful. I always say that one reason (of many!) people don’t want to have kids is because there aren’t enough positive parenting stories. This is one of them. Thank you.
The constant change is really on point. People used to ask me how things were going with our baby and I’d joke that I was finally really good at taking care of a six week old, but unfortunately my daughter was now 5 months.
The other remarkable thing, though, is that the opposite is somehow also true. My wife and I used to look at our baby daughter in real profound disbelief that she would someday grow into a toddler, a child, a person with her own thoughts and agency and personality that we could actually carry a conversation with. She eventually did, and then some, but what’s amazing is that she’s so obviously been in there the whole time. All of what makes her her, her curiosity, her meticulousness, her emotional intelligence, her imagination, it was always all there from the beginning even as she was going through all of the stages and perpetually transforming. We think back to when we’d ask “how is it possible that this baby will become a real person?” And now we can look at her and at each other and answer “Oh, I see. Just like that.”
This is a great comment. I think a corollary to this, and maybe it’s just me, is that I don’t remember my kids in their various younger stages. I don’t remember my 17 year old’s 10 year old self. Or my six year old’s two year old self. I see pictures but I don’t remember them being that person. Maybe it’s because they’ve always been the same person.
Oh I totally feel this. So many memories of my kids involve my brain erroneously inserting them at their current age into the movies of the past. We do have a pretty big trove of videos of them at all ages and I don’t watch them super often but it can be really jarring when I do.
I LOVED this. And I’m not just saying that because I’m from Paris - though the 'morphing Left Bank' metaphor really resonates - but because it is truly excellent. It connected deeply with a few things I’ve reflected on over the years.
1. Watching a child grow is essentially witnessing an individual evolve in 'high-speed.' It makes me wonder: why don't we grant that same grace to adults? We cling to this myth of the 'Finished' adult and treat the people around us as static fixtures, when everyone is actually a work in progress. Having a baby beautifully ruins that illusion.
2. The way we shift our behavior around children mesmerises me. I love it cause it perfectly captures my view of the adult: a multi-faceted person who reflects different lights depending on which spot you use to illuminate them. The 'professional' and the 'ogre' are at total odds, but that’s not a crisis of character - it’s the fun part. Consistency is boring; the friction between our different selves is where the personality lives. We show different faces depending on the room we’re in, and that is more than fine—it’s fascinating.
3. Finally, there is the beauty of embracing the chaos (a bit of Nietzsche, perhaps?). I love the idea that the streets of our lives are always moving, the Louvre is being relocated, and the ride is always vertiginous. Embracing that chaos doesn't kill our fundamentals; it actually enriches them, make them more complete, strengthen them in unexpected ways...
Thanks for writing this! To me, this was the perfect lunch break - and a beautiful reminder that we are all a collection of strangers, in constant evolution, who happen to share the same universal experience. And hopefully the joy of parenting, discovering and reinventing oneself again and again <3
I held it together until that closing line.
Yeah I started bawling there too.
Being a father doesn’t end when your children are grown up. My children are 51, 49 and 40. They have six children among them. But I am still their father and my relationship with them is still quite different from my relationship with any other people, including my grandchildren.
A time comes when you are a deeply engaged and yet largely helpless spectator. You are proud of the adults they have become and yet you worry about them. Deep concern is the constant. As my wife said when our oldest was born, “we will never feel safe again.”
Is this *the* Martin Wolf? Given the ages, I suspect yes. Sir, I would welcome any reaction you might have to this essay, which represents my (not humble) attempt to ground Hayek's classical liberalism in modern mathematical and physical law. https://www.symmetrybroken.com/maintaining-divergence/
It is that Martin Wolf. I respect Mr Thompson's work. I will take a look.
I still remember your insightful remarks in a series of essays about capitalism posted 15 years ago. Thank you for your attention.
Here is the essay I remember:
https://kanaanonline.org/en/2009/03/14/seeds-of-its-own-destruction/
That was a long piece I wrote for the Financial Times in 2009. It was indeed one of the best pieces I have written. At that time, I had not expected the financial sector to be as politically resilient as it has turned out to be. Unfortunately, I am worried about the possibility of another financial crisis. I am also worried about the stability of democracy itself. On that see my recent book, The Crisis of Democratic Capitalism.
I will read your book. It may have been the 2007 piece referenced here that I was remembering but this piece is just as good for different reasons.
It's been 14 months since I've been a Dad and I've never had an article resonate with me the way yours did.
I thank you profusely for sharing this.
I love this. As close to capturing the elusive beauty and fear of parenthood as I have ever read.
Really, really beautiful
Beautifully written. Thank you
This was a stunningly beautiful article. My son and daughter-in-law are expecting their first baby in May. I forwarded the piece to them. It's the best description that I have ever seen of something that is utterly indescribable. I smiled the whole time I was reading it - one of those almost-a-happy-cry smiles. Thank you so much!
Beautiful, Derek. One of your best.
Good essay. Feels like you journal nightly, capturing the tiny moments.
As a father of two 30 year olds and grandfather of three I found this piece helpful in capturing the experience of parenting. I have forgotten so much because I was worn out, overwhelmed or preoccupied with my life. Although I tried to notice or remember some of the small things life just moved too fast.
Now I get to notice and enjoy the small things with my grandchildren. I remember unexpectedly baby sitting for my grand daughter when she was only a few days old. I was initially petrified but she was perfect and her parents were only gone for an hour. Little did I realize that was the easiest time to babysit. She has now grown to be a bossy toddler who instructs me on which color of cup I can use. Such a delight!
Just a beautiful articulation of something that’s impossible to capture, Derek. I think the reason cliches exist is that they are universal. That doesn’t mean they aren’t worth expressing — and it makes it even more compelling when they’re given a new spin.
Great stuff, Derek.
Thank you for this Derek. I was listening to your chat with Tim Miller on his pod and you mentioned this piece. As the father of two daughters - now in their mid-20s - I can safely say that your analogy continues to hold every day. If I close my eyes - I can still recall battling over eating veg in their high chairs, princess tea parties, innumerable travel footy league matches, graduations, and - most recently - "helping" my oldest inspect her new condo (that final one a true out-of-body experience).
Your comments towards the end of the piece about people seen in relation to others spoke so eloquently and (to me) with such elegiac notes. In the past few years, we've lost my father (their grandfather) and wife (their mother) - both to cancer. In reading this piece, I now see how those losses not only impacted us in the absence of that family member, but also in how they change who we are. I am (and we are) no longer quite the same - without being reflected in the perception of my father or wife - especially notable for my daughters' perception of me as a widower (even at my age, that change never ends until it does).
I am very sorry you missed your parents so early. If there would be a Part 4, it would mirror a bit the third one, where you see your wife becoming a mother. Watching your parents pamper your baby is magical too because you can finally, because you most likely forgot, see them as loving parents of your most vulnerable version. You see the roughness melting away and let yourself believe that you melted that roughness too. In a way, being a parent is painful too because of the contrast of what you lacked but yet try to give. It is discovering yourself as much as discovering other.
Beautiful. I always say that one reason (of many!) people don’t want to have kids is because there aren’t enough positive parenting stories. This is one of them. Thank you.