I've been thinking about this a lot lately.
Being a parent.
From one perspective one can look at deciding to have kids as a very selfish thing. But anyone who has kids can tell you that it is one of the most unselfish things one can do in life. I really have to ensure that I am a little selfish every day. Just to preserve me.
And I have been thinking about happiness. Mine. My familys. Where it comes from. What defines it.
There was an article recently in one of Norways biggest newspapers. It questions why we have children when all research shows that we are more unhappy when we have kids. It said that our unhappiness grows exponentially untill the children are three years old. That kids kill your sexlife, your relationship, your energy levels and any kind of personal time.
I have to agree. I have two boys. One is four and a half months old. One is three and a half years old. I'm exhausted.
But I'm happy.
I live in a part of Norway that has one of the highest birthrates in the country. All my friends either have one, two or three kids. Or are pregnant.
We live in a permanent state of tiredness. Poopy diapers. Breast infections (fighting one right now). Endless laundry piles. Constant home improvement. Home made cooking (God forbid I give my kids some additives). Playgrounds. Early mornings. Early nights.
And I have to admit it takes it's toll.
But I'm happy.
Life has really been challenging me lately. In all sorts of ways. Ten years ago a situations smaller than this might have spiralled me into a black hole of self pity and depression.
But then Big Brother grabs me in a big hug while I'm buckling him up in a rush to get to kindie. I look into Little Brother bright eyes in his car seat, and he smiles. And I grab my phone to tell my Man all about it.
Wasn't it Einstein that said life is what happens while you're living it. Well I'm Living it.
... and weirdly enough I'm happy.