I’m sitting up in bed staring through the darkness as my one-year-old cries just a short distance away. It’s about 65 degrees in my room but I’m sweating. I’ve been through this before, with both boys, but it doesn’t get easier. If I had a crystal ball, I’m sure it would show me that he’s teething or hungry or God knows what. But he can’t exactly tell me.

It feels like so much of parenting is divination. Just pure conjecture. Voodoo. You can make checklists and cross things off to arrive at solutions. You can read up and find answers. You can phone a friend. But in the end, you trust your gut and go with what you know.

Sometimes, you have to make decisions that put your emotions in a blender. Other moments rocket you into the stratosphere. Kids are a gateway to some pretty magical, otherworldly experiences. We are transported to and fro in time, or instantly dumped into a heap of feelings. These tiny people have a disproportionate power over us. You could blame it on larger than average eye size, or the fact that they evoke a certain narcissism in us when they mirror our younger selves — but it simply transcends those physical reflections. They are human enchantments.

Kids also add weight. Body weight when you’re carrying them. The weight of considering their future. Financial tonnage as you go. A couple of pounds here and there. The weight of your words, the weight of your soul when you’ve momentarily lost them.

But then why do we do it?

I’ve had some non-parent friends ask me why I’d give up my privacy, sanity, sensibility, adaptability, capriciousness, carelessness, wanderlust, and so much more. The answer is never the same. I’m always finding new reasons. Some I knew would be there before I became a father, some discovered after the fact.

Having kids doesn’t make you happier. But, I can say with certainty that it increases your capacity for happiness. The world needs all it can get it.

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Find some happiness.
These specialized jobs for toddlers are a start…

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