Cognitive Dissonance

Photo by Deborah Leigh

People often talk about how stressful it is to become a new parent, and the emphasis is typically on the physical and emotional stresses that result from giving birth, caring for a newborn (the feeding, diapering, etc.), and being sleep deprived. Those stresses are real and awful, but it seems to me that the most significant mental stress of becoming a new parent for me has been the constant cognitive dissonance I'm experiencing. In psychology, cognitive dissonance refers to the feelings of mental discomfort that result when there is a discrepancy between our beliefs and our behaviors. In becoming a parent, I encounter an almost daily mismatch between who I think I am inside my head/heart and what my behaviors suggest about who I am.

I became a parent in my 30s, and thought I was a relatively self-aware person who knew my strengths and weaknesses. However, it turns out that who I am is a lot more dependent on situational pressures than I had realized, and those self-discoveries are usually mentally and emotionally painful. "Know thyself," said the Ancient Greek philosophers. Well, below are some things I "knew" about myself before having children that turn out to be untrue.

I am a punctual person.
I used to be one of those people that was always on time or early for scheduled commitments or events. I thought my punctuality showed that I respected other people. I'd even say that those who are perpetually late for things clearly think they're more important than other people, since they think their time is more important than other peoples' time. Well, now I'm constantly late for things. It turns out that I am one of those people that thinks my time is more important than other peoples'. To deal with the pain of this realization, I rationalize my lateness by telling myself it's "better late than never," since the alternative is just not showing up at all to events/parties/meetings because it's such a hassle to get anywhere.

I am a good steward of the environment.
In eighth grade (1990, when the "Earth Day" movement went global), I won an essay prize for a state-wide Earth Day writing competition. The essay was way melodramatic... the first line said something about a dead fish floating in polluted waters. Because of my love of nature, I wanted to major in biology when I went to college, and I went to a school with a strong reputation for being institutionally environmentally conscious. Well, it turns out I am no longer a good steward of the environment. There is a landfill full of disposable diapers from my two kids to prove it. We wanted to do cloth diapers, but our condo association didn't allow people to wash things contaminated with pet (or human!) waste in the communal washers. By the time we moved in to a house and baby 2 was on the way, we just didn't have the energy to make the switch (or so I rationalize it...).

I am organized and detail-oriented.
I was often told by teachers and bosses that I was appreciated for my organizational skills and my attention to detail. As an adult, my desk and bedroom were always immaculate, and I had excellent filing systems at home or work. When I studied for my preliminary exams in graduate school, I had a thematically organized binder with detailed notes (all answering the same five questions) on every reading I'd done in my focus areas. Now, I leave my wallet in random places, like Lydia's school (twice). I find myself in the airport changing a poopy diaper only to discover I forgot to replenish diapers OR wipes. If I don't write something down on a "to do" list at work, I forget that I ever promised someone I'd do it. Half of the spoons in our flatware set are missing. HALF. I could go on, and on, and on...

I am a thoughtful friend/sister/aunt/daughter.
I used to send cards on friends' and siblings' birthdays, and remembered to call my amazing nephew and nieces on their birthdays. I used to carefully plan what I wanted to buy loved ones for special occasions, and always made a special arrangements on Mother's Day for my mom. Now, I don't remember anyone's birthday. I actually have to do the math to remember how old I am. I haven't mailed a paper card in... wow, I don't even know. Maybe our last paper Christmas card 3 years ago? So the evidence of any thoughtfulness towards loved ones on my part is desperately lacking.

I am healthy and take good care of myself.
I used to work out 4-5 times a week and sleep 6-7 hours a night. But now, I have quit the gym and I am lucky if I get 4 hours of sleep a night. At least I'm still cooking healthy meals. (I think? My health nut brothers claim that half the stuff I eat is mildly toxic. I don't have time to do the research on their claims.)

I have hobbies and interests, including reading, travel, learning foreign languages, photography, singing, museum-going, etc.
I used to do all those things. Now, I do not. Unless an annual trip to New Jersey counts as travel and taking pictures of my kids count as photography. Recently someone who hadn't seen me for 6 months asked me, "What's new?" I couldn't think of anything new I'd done since I saw her. I rationalized it by telling myself that I also couldn't remember what I ate for breakfast that day (see above section about being detail-oriented).

My spiritual life is important to me.
I used to read scripture, meditate, and pray pretty much daily. I used to have deep theological debates and discussions with friends in my spiritual community and my husband. I used to spend significant amounts of time serving my community. Now, I barely do any of these things. I pray with Lydia about monsters in her dreams at bedtime, host a community group at our house (during which I mostly chase kids all over the house), and tell myself that's all I can manage right now.

I'm never going to (insert parenting choice here)/I'm only going to (insert parenting choice here).
I had lots of ideas about the parenting choices I was going to make. I pretty much was wrong about everything I thought I'd do. Below is just a brief list of examples.

• I was only going to breast feed. That didn't work out.
• I was going to do cloth diapers. See above.
• I was going to make my kids eat what I cooked or let them go to bed hungry. The evening I wrote this, Jeff and I had quiche, Lydia ate PB&J and Anna had mac and cheese.
• I was not ever going to yell at my kids. It's happened. More than once.
• I was going to do a weekly date night with Jeff to maintain the health of our marriage despite having kids. We've gone to a movie once since being married.

To reduce the pain of cognitive dissonance, our brains cope in a few ways. First, one can change her mind about a belief when presented with new information or a behavior that is inconsistent with that belief. But we all know how hard it is to change our beliefs, especially those about ourselves. Second, one can come up with excellent justifications and rationalizations to explain the inconsistency. One truth I have learned about myself as I daily face parental cognitive dissonance is that I am a master at justifying/rationalizing my behavior.

Jeff suggested that instead of continuing to rationalize, I could change my belief system about myself. He took a look at my above list of beliefs about myself and labeled me a perfectionist. He suggested that I could change my beliefs about myself to be more consistent with Pete the Cat's philosophy. Lydia loves her Pete the Cat books, and I'd recommend them to fellow parents! In our favorite Pete story, Pete is in love with his brand new white shoes. So much so that he sings a song about them, "I love my white shoes, I love my white shoes, I love my white shoes." When Pete steps in a variety of crap along his life path and soils his shoes, "Does Pete cry? Goodness no! He just keeps walkin' along and singin' his song. Because it's all good." Pete still has joy about his shoes, even if they don't turn out the way he expected. Instead of a set of beliefs that sum up to "I have to live up to my expectations for myself," I could try "It's all good," on for size for a while. The perfectionist in me suspects I won't be very good at that, though!