The Saline Reporter
A Heritage Newspaper
Weekly Publication
It's tough being a parent in today's bad economy
PUBLISHED: March 27, 2008
There are times when I hate being a parent.
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Deep into a long road trip, for example, while listening to a Kidz Bop CD for the 16th or 17th straight time.
Or while waiting in line at the supermarket and saying repeatedly, "No, you can't have that" and "Put that back" and "Don't touch that."
Or when folding hundreds of pairs of socks that almost match up.
But at the top of the list of times when I hate being a parent, far, far ahead of all other contenders, is dark economic times.
In other words, right now. In the almost 12 years I have been a parent, right now is when I hate being a parent the most. The responsibility weighs heavy on me.
The ailing health of the economy in Michigan has me lying awake some nights. Every day brings more disheartening news. The state leads the nation with an unemployment rate that exceeds 7 percent. Foreclosures are alarmingly high. Gas prices have well surpassed the $3-a-gallon mark. Layoffs and downsizing are prevalent. Talk of a recession is incessant.
Listening to the radio in the morning depresses me. Reading the paper at night wearies me.
Time and time again, as I stare at the ceiling before falling asleep, weighing options for a bleak future, I have wondered, "Why, oh why didn't you become a doctor or a lawyer or an accountant?"
I have to remind myself, "Umm, because you weren't smart enough, remember?" which isn't reassuring at all but is the stark truth.
Then I switch to castigating myself for not being more motivated by money. After all, I figure it must help during depressed economic times to be, you know, rich.
I berate myself for failing to focus more on becoming wealthy and choosing instead to pursue a career doing something I love. I tell myself I should know more about money markets and security bonds and hedge funds, and that I should really pay more attention to that manic "Mad Money" guy who screams about stocks. For far too long I thought IRA referred only to the Irish Republican Army.
This all runs through my tortured mind not because I really care about making dough, but because in the two rooms across the hall sleep peacefully my son and daughter. They are why I worry about the economy and my ability to shield them from its ill winds.
If it were just me, I could weather without blinking an eye whatever the economy dished out. Lost my job? No problem. I'm sure I could find something. No car? No problem. I could take the bus. No food? No problem (as long as I could afford coffee). No home with a nice backyard? No problem. A small apartment would do. I've been poor before and I could be poor again.
But now I've got kids.
And suddenly the prospect of losing my job, our car, our home is a big problem.
To be honest, the downturn in the economy has not yet adversely affected my family to any great extent, but I can feel it creeping closer. And I am very good at envisioning the worst. I can easily put myself in the shoes of families who are uprooting and leaving the state in droves as parents hunt for work elsewhere.
I feel for those families. I feel for the parents. It must be a gut-wrenching decision, one I hope never to be forced to make.
We hear a lot of numbers when it comes to the economy: unemployment rates, interest rates, the deficit, consumer confidence reports, production declines, sagging auto and retail sales.
What we don't hear about as much are the sleepless nights many parents across the state are experiencing. The quiet talks mothers and fathers are having downstairs while their children sleep unconcerned upstairs. The reassurances parents are offering their children who are distressed about leaving their friends and relocating to a new school, a new neighborhood, a new state.
It's a time of great anxiety for parents.
And I will not shy from the truth that in these turbulent times there are moments when I wish the responsibility of being a parent were lifted from me.
I have found, however, a balm for those times when my worries overwhelm me.
I peek in on my children where they sleep and their peacefulness and unconcern comfort me like a warm fire.
And suddenly I find it's a time when I love being a parent the most.
Staff Writer Brian Cox can be reached at 429-7380 or bcox@heritage.com.
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