How to Have Grandchildren

My proposition for how you can optimize for grandparentmaxxing

I was recently featured on The Hope Axis podcast with

Anna Gát ✨

, and one interesting term she used on the pod was “natalist-friendly,” which I think perfectly sums up how I feel about natalism. To me, being a pronatalist means you want people to have more kids, or that you think it’s our moral imperative to have more kids. Being an antinatalist means you think people should stop having kids or that it’s immoral to bring children into the world without their consent. I’m obviously way closer to pro than anti, but I think “natalist-friendly” is kind of a perfect descriptor because ultimately what I want is for people to have the number of kids they want to have, and for society to make this easier. I also happen to think that most people would like to have more kids than they wind up having, so the endgame is similar to that of a pronatalist.

But with all this talk of having kids, what about grandkids? This week, the NYT published The Unspoken Grief of Never Becoming a Grandparent, which led to a viral Twitter thread from a mom of multiple adult children who worried her window to be a grandmother was closing (to be fair, she was literally 50 years old…calm down.) But anyway, I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t a concern of mine. Having kids has always been immensely important to me (which, just my luck, was complicated by a rare infertility diagnosis and IVF) and when I imagine my senior years, the idea of growing old without grandkids is a bit depressing. I’d be SUCH a good grandma. I sew, I bake, I cook—this stuff isn’t for Nick, it’s for my lineage! I’m a trad-grandma-in-training, not a tradwife!

2020 Thanksgiving!

But here’s the deal: it’s not up to me. And nagging my kids about it is not going to help. But I’m also not going to throw my hands up and declare it doesn’t matter either way, or that “nobody will be having kids by 2030 anyway because humans will be extinct” or whatever the latest trendy doom statement is these days (let’s just say humans will go extinct in a few years- who cares if I want to pretend we’re not? Let me live out my days in peace!)

Side note here, but I’ve noticed that when I talk about a theoretical future where I’m a grandparent, there’s always some asshole who shows up to be like, “What if your kids are childfree?” as if they expect me to say something like, “WHAT?! I never CONSIDERED that! Obviously, I’d disown them!”

Anyway, yes, it’s selfish of me to want grandkids, the same way it’s selfish of me to want kids. Most humans are wired to want to continue their lineage, and that’s a pretty normal thing, but unfortunately a bunch of Roman Statue avi groypers (who I don’t think even have kids at all) have ruined it for the rest of us. Can we get an allegiance of Natalist-Friendly Libs going on? (The only NFL I can ever enjoy.)

Anyway, here are the things I think will be your best bet (albeit not silver bullets) at securing grandkids:

1.) Make parenting look fun.

I know plenty of people who don’t want kids, and for most of them, it’s not a big ideological thing about the climate or the state of the world; it’s literally that they don’t want to, because parenting looks like it sucks. And what doesn’t suck is breweries, international travel, being hot, and getting a full night’s sleep.

If your children only see you stressed out, deprived, and martyring yourself—even if you’re doing all of this for their own good—they might appreciate it but ultimately look back and say, “Wow, my mom really worked her ass off for us…RIP but I’m built different,” and decide the whole parenting thing isn’t for them. Anecdotally, I’ve known a lot of childfree people who said their own parents’ constant sacrifice and misery made parenting seem less appealing.

So while this may sound counterintuitive (the more intensively you parent, the more your kids will appreciate you, right?) it might actually be worth it to be a little selfish. I know people like to joke about “self care,” but it doesn’t have to be all bubble baths and massages, if that’s not your thing. Having fun could look like going to a sporting event, going out with friends, making time to read your favorite book, or even committing some light securities fraud for the thrill of it (God forbid women have hobbies.) Obviously, making time for yourself is easier said than done and probably every point on this list is made easier with a bit of privilege, but if you can prioritize yourself from time to time, you probably should.

You should also make parenting seem fun by doing fun things with your kids that you also enjoy, since kids are more likely to remember going to a street fair with you than the fact that you once took an hour to get a manicure while they were watching Curious George (depends on the episode, I guess- Maple Monkey Madness was fairly memorable.) My parents used to take me to restaurants, parties and all sorts of social gatherings, so I grew up thinking that parenting was not the end of having a fun and active social life. But you don’t need to be a party person. Just try to strike the balance of something you and your child enjoy. (My parents also routinely took me to antique trade shows, which I can’t say were “child friendly” but they would let me pick out one antique toy each time, so it’s more or less a positive memory for me.)

2.) Change the narrative

Most people reading this Substack are probably middle class to upper middle class and liberal (just going off my reader survey.) I can tell you right now that there is almost no risk of your children “rushing” into parenthood. It’s baffling to me that so many parents in this cohort warn their kids about twenty-something parenthood as if this is something that they need to worry about.