'Wonder Years' Not Always So Wonderful

My refrigerator is covered with snapshots from a happy childhood: my son on vacation, at the beach, in the snow. There are images of other people's children, too: Popping out of a box on moving day, holding flowers, celebrating Hanukkah.

This gallery appears to be proof that "the wonder years" are, indeed, wonderful.

But what about all of the moments we don't capture on film? What about all the tears, all the anguish and all the challenges?

I'm beginning to believe that "happy childhood" is an oxymoron and unhappy childhood is redundant.

It isn't that I believe all children are unhappy, or that children are unhappy all the time. It's just that I've become disenchanted with our romantic vision of childhood as it appears in books, on TV and in movies.

As the mother of an 8-year-old, it occurs to me that we have it backwards. Childhood looks idyllic and worry-free to an adult who is overwhelmed by responsibilities. But from 3 feet high, it looks pretty frustrating much of the time.

Shrink yourself for a moment -- not your ambitions, but your abilities. Then, shrink your choices. If kids don't seem worried, it's because they don't have decisions to worry about. What they wear, what they eat, where they go -- most of these decisions are made for them. And when they won't willingly -- even enthusiastically! -- go along what we say goes for them, they lose the few rights and what little control they have.

Maybe it's only to a control freak like me that childhood looks awfully confining. But I don't think so.

I asked my son, Colter, "What's the hardest thing about being 8 years old?" His answer: "The waiting."

It seems to Colter that he is always waiting for something to happen. He's waiting for this weekend's playdate with his friend (scheduled two weeks ago by busy parents). He's waiting for the Pokemon game which is pre-sold months in advance. He's waiting until he's 10 years old, when I'll buy him a cell phone.

He spends a lot of time wanting what he doesn't have (freedom, especially) and having what he doesn't want (homework, especially).

Childhood is all about instant gratification and adulthood requires delayed gratification. So, we struggle together to help him understand why the shift is necessary and how to make it.

He tries, he really does. For the most part, his time and energy are devoted to what others want, especially his parents and his teachers, regardless of what he wants. And when it gets to be too much for him, he understandably throws a tantrum.

"I don't WANT TO!" is actually a perfectly reasonable reaction for a small camel carrying other people's straws.

Soon enough, when Colter is a pre-teen -- and then a teenager -- he will unload others' straw and start carrying more of his own weight. He'll realize how many choices he has and he will work hard to negotiate more. Sometimes he'll win, sometime he'll lose, and sometimes he'll compromise.

Someday, maybe, Colter will look back and, like me, think childhood is wasted on children -- as youth is wasted on the young -- when adults would appreciate it so much more.

Julie Moos is a thirtysomething who lives with her husband and son. Her column appears every other Thursday. To read more of her thoughts, visit MomInTheMirror.com.