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.”
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/
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!
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!
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.
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.
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.”
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/
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.
Beautifully written. Thank you
Really, really beautiful
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!
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.
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.
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.
How utterly turgid
Jk I’m crying
Beautifully said.