Parenting, like exercise, is a process of growth through pain, through struggle against resistance. It would be wonderful if raising kids were easy, if it demanded little of you, but that’s just not how it works.
We’ve been sleep-deprived. We’ve worried. We’ve been bitten and kicked. We’ve been judged. We’ve been leaned on and then taken for granted, kept up late by infants and then by missed curfews. We’ve been blamed and bothered and bludgeoned by and for their wants and needs. It is a gauntlet in a crucible through a minefield with no trophy at the end. And yet here we are. By necessity we have become capable of things we never could have conceived of for ourselves before.
It was Leonardo da Vinci who said that patience was bitter but its fruit was sweet. This holds true for many of the virtues that parenting has demanded we embody. We’ve been patient, we’ve been resilient, we’ve been brave, we’ve been selfless, self-effacing, steadfast, and silent . . . none of which were particularly fun at the time.
But the result was that we grew stronger for it. Our families survived and thrived because of it. They are where they are right now because of how far we’ve come as parents. There is no trophy on the other side of the parenting minefield, but there is a happy, healthy, bonded family. And that prize is the sweetest of them all.