Article Summary:
Daniel Smith’s essay in The Atlantic explores the author’s struggle with the profound boredom of parenthood despite experiencing fierce, protective love for his children. When his first daughter was born, he discovered an unexpected paradox: while his love was instantaneous and complete, he disliked being a father. The activities that once sustained him—reading, seeing friends, solitude—vanished, replaced by exhausting routines and mind-numbing repetition.
The author confesses that much of parenting consists of “blunt, basic, run-of-the-mill boredom”—playgrounds, picture books, endless requests to “do it again.” He felt deficient for finding child-rearing tedious when society celebrates it as life’s greatest adventure. After divorce and remarrying, he now has three children and confronts the same feelings again.
Drawing on philosophers and poets like Kierkegaard, Frost, and Joseph Brodsky, the author reframes boredom not as something to suppress or escape, but as an emotion to move toward and understand. Brodsky’s commencement address argued that boredom teaches us our “utter insignificance” and that the most meaningful aspects of life—enduring relationships, serious work, art—all display patterns pregnant with boredom.
The essay concludes with a tender Sunday morning scene: the author shopping with his young son, noticing small moments of connection over hot chocolate. He realizes that boredom and meaning are inseparable—boredom is “the price we pay for a life rich with meaning.” Accepting rather than fighting this reality makes the feeling more endurable, transforming it from a shameful deficiency into an inevitable companion of love and commitment.