“There is no doubt that parenthood makes you think of another person, their needs and safety and search for their character and purpose, and in itself that should hopefully make you a nicer human,” writes “Kindness” columnist ANTONIO DI DIO.  

IT’S a funny old thing, being a parent. One day you are a selfish bugger interested in who’s beating Saints this weekend, next thing you’re sleep deprived, tortured by ghastly noises, have no recollection of your last meal or fun, and see no future without this daily constant grind.

It’s a bit like your mate Gandalf shouted you a one-way ticket adventure holiday at his timeshare in Mordor. And yet. It’s got a couple of advantages, this dad stuff.

First, it’s a sensational introduction to the world. Happiness, some say, equals something to do, something to love, and something to look forward to. The company of others is generally a positive – I know it means a great deal to me. 

I met a lovely, smart, funny woman at work this week who’s been in Canberra with her spouse for many months and still hasn’t connected with people. I know they’ll be fine, of course, but recall how fortunate we were on arriving here with little terrors. 

Within weeks the sporting sidelines had provided lovely people who we lived near. Almost 20 years later so many of them are our closest friends, work colleagues, business partners, walking companions. 

Gosh, my mum-in-law is still friends with the same sporting-field fellow mums of 50 years ago. Kids’ piano recitals and epic cricket fails serve a friendship purpose even deeper than finding their own crew. They found ours.

Our children also refresh my optimism. Times are changing, and it’s so easy to get jaded and cynical. Our media, our zeitgeist sometimes changes quicker than a teenager’s hairstyle. It’s easy to feel you’re tossed on ever changing social seas, and that’s why it’s pretty good to get grounded by the philosophical utterances of tiny people whose faces are covered in their latest meals. And years later covered in facial hair so tragic and wispy that you begin to miss the Vegemite moustache! 

Of course, the cliché is that their greatest gift is that they make us better people. There is no doubt that parenthood makes you think of another person, their needs and safety and search for their character and purpose, and in itself that should hopefully make you a nicer human. Mums lift cars to rescue their wandering toddlers. Dinosaur dads sit through hair braiding and ballet. I get it.

What I don’t get is how the parent or not-parent divide is anything but respectful. Some people choose very validly not to have kids. Not that it has to be “valid”. It’s their choice. In some European nations they are in the majority. Some people who’d love to have kids, can’t. Them with kids should not pity or argue or be hostile. We should just all get along and respect each other for the choices we make, or the choices a seriously disinterested universe made for us.

Why bring this up at all? Well, aside from a vote for tolerance, tact, respect and empathy, an understanding that others make different decisions to us, we should be on the lookout for the inevitable policy decisions and debates that come about, and use them as a chance to care for each other. 

Should IVF be available? For whom? For straight, married people in secure jobs? What about 44 year olds? How about 16 or 64 year olds? Should the taxpayer pay for it? How many tries should Medicare pay for? What about LGBTQI  couples (a question asked in the 1990s which I hope to goodness is not even a question any more). Or the less well off? Or people with an illness? And that’s even before the kid arrives. 

There are thousands of other scenarios that demand all of our collective decisions, from premature babies’ life support, paying for the NDIS, leave entitlements, and God knows what else. I hate the idea of telling anybody how to live their life or put a limit on their freedom.

Decisions about kids also raise collective moral choices. If mum’s on a work trip and I did not feed them a vegetable for five days, does she really need to know? When a troll turns 18 just how many dings can he put in a car before it’s mentioned? Silly or deadly serious, let these collective choices be made with intelligence, collaboration and listening more than speaking. 

If love is added, judgement deleted and prejudices left at the door, surely then the best possible decisions will be made.

Antonio Di Dio is a local GP, medical leader, and nerd. There is more of his “Kindness” on citynews.com.au