Enjoyment

When I think about my childhood, the first thing that comes to mind isn’t material possessions—it’s the feeling of being enjoyed. My parents genuinely loved raising us. Of course, there were rules and responsibilities, but underneath it all, there was laughter, affection, and a clear sense that we weren’t a burden. We were their joy.

Now, as a parent myself, I carry that lesson forward. I enjoy my kids—not in some abstract, “kids are great” kind of way, but in the daily, ordinary moments that too often get overlooked. I enjoy their chatter in the backseat, their messy creativity at the kitchen table, even the questions that come right when I’m trying to concentrate. These aren’t disruptions; they’re the soundtrack of a life worth living.

But if I’m honest, I don’t see this same approach reflected often in today’s parenting culture. Somewhere along the way, parenting seems to have become tangled up with performance. Many parents feel pressured to check boxes, hit milestones, and manage their children like projects rather than simply being with them. Social media amplifies it—highlight reels of picture-perfect families can leave us feeling that we’re always falling short. Add to that the hustle culture that glorifies productivity above all else, and suddenly children begin to look less like companions in life and more like obstacles to efficiency.

This is where enjoyment has quietly slipped out of the equation. Parents are present physically but not always emotionally. We shuttle kids from one activity to another, scroll our phones while sitting beside them, and sometimes mistake provision for connection. But kids notice. They can feel whether they are being enjoyed or managed.

What seems to be missing is engagement. True enjoyment doesn’t mean life is easy or that kids never misbehave. It means choosing to meet them where they are—with curiosity, humor, and patience. It means setting aside the to-do list sometimes to sit on the floor and play, to really listen to their endless stories, or to share in their silliness without rushing them along. Those are the moments that build trust and connection—the kind of foundation that lasts long after childhood.

Parenting should not be framed as a burden. It’s not a detour from “real life.” It is life, and it’s meant to be lived with joy. My parents modeled this for me by showing that even in the hard days, they liked having us around. And now I want my children to grow up with the same certainty: not only are they loved, but they are enjoyed.

The world doesn’t need more perfect parents. It needs more present ones. Parents who see their children not as people to be managed, but as treasures to be delighted in. The messy, unpredictable, ordinary days are where enjoyment lives. That is the connection we’re all longing for, and that is the legacy worth passing down.