The Existential Nature of Parenthood

Adult human female anatomy diagram chartAt home insemination

I was the first in our circle to experience pregnancy, a milestone that marked a shift in our family dynamics. In those initial weeks of sharing my news, I began an uphill journey into the vast world of parenting: learning about diapers, setting up Pack ‘n Plays, and recognizing signs of illness in infants.

As they grow, new challenges emerge. You find yourself researching which vacuum can effectively pick up Cheerios without jamming, teaching yourself to replace expletives with “sugar!” and instilling lessons like “Hands are not for hitting.”

Amidst these daily tasks, I discovered a surprising truth: I genuinely love being a parent. The ongoing existential dilemmas it presents are endlessly intriguing. This month’s conundrum? My youngest son asked, “Mom, what is a hippie?”

His five-year-old brother confidently declared, “It means ‘an old man.’” The eight-year-old stepped in to correct him: “No, it’s a teenager with long hair… and funny clothes…” He then went on to describe Shaggy from Scooby-Doo before halting, eyes wide, and asking, “Mom, what is a hippie?”

In this moment, parenting turned philosophical. Even in their youthful innocence, they sensed a deeper significance behind the term—a socio-political and historical context that eluded them. They understood that the concept of a ‘hippie’ carried weight, representing something beyond their immediate comprehension as they encountered it in cartoons.

As I began to respond, I realized that explaining what a hippie is requires an understanding of the cultural backdrop they were rebelling against. In a world where boys on their baseball teams sport long hair thanks to trendy moms instead of a counterculture movement, how could they grasp the significance of a man allowing his hair and beard to grow wild at a time when neatness was the norm? Back then, hats were common in public, and my mother and grandmother would always wear spotless white gloves.

Today, their familiarity with hippie imagery is limited to neon flowers on party supplies or rhinestone peace signs on jeans. They don’t see these symbols as remnants of a radical push for a gentler, more authentic life amidst commercialism and conflict. How do I convey the nostalgia of paper butterflies on my young aunt’s wall, fluttering above a black-and-white poster of “Bridge Over Troubled Water”?

Though I wasn’t a hippie, having grown up in a Republican household, I associated them with the shattered glass at our playground. Now, at 40, I find myself in an SUV, my boys bouncing in the back, marveling at how we didn’t have to buckle up as kids, reminiscing about avocado-colored kitchen appliances, and trying to recall the origins of our fascination with rainbows.

Having children has expanded my world—not just in terms of physical space, now filled with high chairs and scattered Legos, but in the way they reintroduce the universe through their childlike wonder. Soil that I once viewed as mere dirt is now a treasure, to be dug up, stored in jars, and examined. My son excitedly demonstrated how shaking soil in water created layers of mulch, peat, and sand—a proud moment of discovering density.

Life is a tapestry woven with joy, surprises, beauty, and sorrow. On vacations, we gaze in awe at sunsets or breathtaking landscapes, longing to share these moments with someone special. Yet children find such wonder in the mundane, in the everyday moments that adults often overlook—such as the simplest flower at the market or a stray feather left at the bedside.

They take concepts we have long considered trivial—like the word “hippie”—and present them to us anew, brimming with depth and meaning. As I prepared to explain the term, ready to share insights about self-expression and my childhood in the ’70s, I noticed their laughter shifting focus.

At that moment, the boys decided that “hippie” would be their new favorite word for anything odd or unusual, demonstrating their ability to add complexity and simplicity to life in equal measure.

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In summary, the experience of parenthood is a profound journey filled with existential questions and delightful discoveries that enrich our understanding of the world through our children’s eyes.