My Family and Other Globalizers | What no one tells us about parenting - seriously

The next time some well-meaning auntie tells you to “go for a second” because two children are “easier” than one, let the words drift in from one ear and out of the other. (Photo: Samer Daboul via Pexels)

Content warning: Contains mentions of self-harm and allusions to child death that might be distressing for some.

Note to readers: My Family and Other Globalizers is a weekly parenting column on bringing up global citizens

Childbirth and parenting are among the most universal of experiences. And yet it remains a social conspiracy to keep the truth about these processes from public discourse. I am convinced this is the result of some kind of Darwinian imperative. The future of human procreation probably depends on the omission of certain choice details. But your columnist is a journalist devoted to the truth, Darwin notwithstanding. So read on, if you would like to be told it as it is - without any punches pulled (and only the occasional mixed metaphor).

Hard truth #1: Labour does not end with the delivery of the baby.

Sorry ladies, you might have spent scores of hours convulsing and grunting until your babe is finally pushed into this world. But now is when you discover that labour contractions do not end with this effort. To begin with, the baby is not the only thing you will deliver. A goopy mess called the placenta is still in there and requires further expulsion on behalf of your uterus. But wait, there’s more. Your uterus will, in fact, continue to contract for up to SIX WEEKS after birth. And it will hurt. The pains are usually made worse while breastfeeding since this is when contraction-stimulating oxytocin is released. Ouch!

Hard truth #2: Parenting young children is in essence, one long, exhausting, episode in suicide prevention.

Unlike other mammals whose young seem programmed to eat, sleep and survive, human babies spend much of their infancy refusing to do any of this. To put my older son, Ishaan, down for a nap, I usually had to bounce him up and down while performing deep knee bends for at least 20 minutes. If I put him down too quickly, all the preceding calisthenics would come to naught, and he’d be back to screaming his outrage at being asked to sleep – the nerve!

My younger child, Nico, basically spent his first five years on Earth on hunger strike, refusing anything that wasn’t a banana or rice, entry to his oral cavity.

But none of this holds a candle to the toddler years, when children develop a fascination with kitchen knives, the top of staircases and open bodies of water. Preventing them from impaling themselves on sharp objects or throwing themselves off balconies will be the full-time job you never wanted.

Hard truth #3 Two children are twice the work

The next time some well-meaning auntie tells you to “go for a second” because two children are “easier” than one, let the words drift in from one ear and out of the other. If I could have a penny for every time someone had told me how lovely it would be to have two kids, so they could play nicely with each other and keep themselves out of my hair, I would be a rich woman.

In fact, two children means twice the work, period. It means two little people to feed, bathe, put to sleep and keep alive. It means no down time at all, because when one sleeps, the other cavorts. And they take it in turns to repeat this cycle endlessly. For years.

As for the playing together “nicely” – being the parents of two will consign you to the permanent role of adjudicator. You will now need to make sure that everything is FAIR, from the number of minutes each child gets to sit on some random beanbag, to the geometrically accurate division of every chocolate brownie that may grace your table.

Hard truth #4 The only reason you love your children so much is because of how they are when they are sleep: inert

No matter how demonic the children have been on a particular day: putting chewing gum in the cat’s hair, projectile vomiting on your favourite sweater as you try and hold them down for a diaper change or spitting out the lovingly prepared meal you spent hours making, there will come a moment when they do go to sleep.

And as you look upon their soft, cushiony cheeks and their gently rising and falling chests, you will find yourself floating on Darwinian endorphins that have you thinking – despite all the evidence to the contrary- that your babes are angels and that being their parent makes you happier than anything else.

But just remember: three kids is thrice the work. The economies of scale only kick in at four. Just saying!