Parenting . . . fun again!

I was struck by this thought late this afternoon, sticking frozen enchilada casserole in the microwave while M. held baby S., A. played nearby and N. ran around outside with the six year-old from down the street. It was an odd moment--joyful, of course, but a little sobering, too. When was the last time I would have described parenting as "fun"? I couldn't recall. Not drudgery, stress, insanity--but fun. FUN! A. has been delighting me with her insatiable desire to learn basic math and reading. At four, she's already working written addition and subtraction problems, and she's absolutely driven, and I mean EATEN UP WITH THE DESIRE to learn to read, to learn everything she can. I have never seen a child so consumed with "seatwork." I guess I'll just try to keep giving her material and teaching her, as long as she is up for it. Actually, I'm not the one pushing it, at all. It's her.

I took N for a "date" this afternoon to Starbuck's, picked him up early from his after-school program. He was pleased as punch, of course, and we had a nice chat. I think I've found him a Russian pen pal from an orphanage in Saratov. A university program is coordinating the translation and such. He said he'd like them to address his e-mail to Kolya. Pre-SSRI, this wouldn't have come up, wouldn't have entered my mind. We were white-knuckling it every day, just to get through the day with him with our sanity intact. Who in the heck had time to think about pen pals, Good Grief! Or anything else but safety, for that matter. I swear, I think we have PTSD just from living with that child. Now, the idea of a pen pal seems natural. It is natural. It's normal, is what it is, and we ain't seen much of that around here for quite a while, baby.

The craziest thought, maybe the scariest thought, is that I know very well where this happiness and "fun" comes from. I know who I have to thank: It's Pfizer or whoever makes Zoloft, generic name Sertraline. And it's not for me. It's N, of course. What a revelation: Parenting can actually be FUN, ENJOYABLE, when it doesn't suck. When you don't have the joy and humor slowly extinguished by day after day after endless day, for YEARS, of nonstop hassle, argument, frustration, hair-pulling, maddening, unbelievably draining and frustrating and tedious hell courtesy of one lil' ol' boy. Chinese water torture.

That one, tiny green pill. Amazing.