On Tuesday, I put in for vacation hours at work and celebrated as any good pioneer would. I started out the day with fresh strawberry pancakes, quickly moved on to sitting in an air-conditioned theater, then drove my wagon to a friend’s house near Liberty Park for gunpowder in the sky.
The streets were a mess. In every direction there were men finding real estate with blankets, teenagers in heat, and children running as if abandoned (they probably were). Personally, I don’t remember the holidays being so?hectic.
Once I was safely in my friend’s driveway, I was surprised to see children running amok in his yard, as well. They tried to ride his dog like a horse. One gleefully hit me across the head with a Nerf rocket — over and over again. I looked at the faces of the flustered mothers, looked at the fathers joking, watched as everyone calmed down for 15 minutes to gape with awe at the fireworks, and saw more than a few crying fits before the night was over.
Is this what we are all striving for? Fifteen minutes of peace and 23 and three-quarter hours of hell?
Last week, there was a story in The Salt Lake Tribune about a family of 15 who forgot about their two-year-old child. In the morning rush, the mother took her other children, but left one behind crying in the backyard. Definitely not as funny as “Home Alone.”
Why does our society so embrace the idea of children? Utah has the highest number of children per family — and has since the tally began.
It’s easy to recognize the precedent. Replenish the earth, there are babies waiting to jump down from heaven! Each of us knows at least one family of nine or 10, or a mother who is perennially pregnant.
Is this what people are looking for? Are women happy to be in a constant state of bearing? Is antidepressant-use so high in this state because of it? It has to be bad for the back, doesn’t it? There must be as many chiropractors per capita as babies where the pioneers finally settled.
Economically and environmentally, we should all stop at two — two brothers, two sisters, or perhaps a brother and a sister. The pair would be enough to love, a companion for each to always have and two individuals to take your place on Earth when you die. Yet, we strive for more. We strive for crying children in theaters and weary mothers. We strive for income enough to make spaghetti mixed with corn or a nice meal purchased from the bishop’s storehouse.
Of course, there are exceptions. I have met my fair share of families where each child was brilliant. I’ve met musical families where every one of them could play an instrument. The difference is money and time. If you can support your children and give them enough attention, then I cannot begrudge your wish to continue to replenish.
Still, in a world that gets smaller every day, where driving a car built for more than four is causing considerable strain upon the very sphere our houses are built on, does it make sense to keep replenishing? In a nation based on wealth, where the gap between rich and poor will continue to grow as wide as a canyon, wouldn’t it make sense to split your worldly possessions two ways instead of 10?
The answer rests inside all of us. I can rant about loud theaters, obnoxious children with Nerf rockets or families so large they leave a child behind without knowing it. Deep down, though, we all do what makes us happy. We all do what helps us find meaning. I can’t question that.
Yet, perhaps next time you look to add meaning to your life, think about the quality of life you can provide — to the children and everyone else who has to deal with them.