Few areas of parenting involve as much anxiety as feeding your child. But new research suggests that if your child is a picky eater, it may be primarily genetic, rather than the result of your poor parenting. For parents whose children avoid vegetables, this may be a relief.
Even if studies like this don’t help convince kids to eat more vegetables, we can’t get enough good scientific reporting when it comes to issues related to motherhood, parenthood, and childhood. In a world with fanatical ideologies and myths and a long history of mother-blaming, they can be a calming poultice.
When I entered a mother’s facility, I found that unscientific advice, misinformation, and even quackery were prevalent, from conflicting prenatal messages about the use of painkillers during labor to lies about breastfeeding. I was surprised. I was surprised at how unsubstantiated some of the information was. In many cases, the data simply wasn’t there. There is little research on the transition to motherhood, and ideology often fills the void.
Influential parenting books contain many opinions that are asserted as fact. And the amount of conflicting advice about parenting is probably greater than ever. The focus is on the actions and choices of individual parents (often mothers in early childhood), with little consideration of the role of fathers, partners, families, wider society and government policies. Needless to say, the actual health and well-being of new mothers is often ignored.
So I’m grateful to those who are using the scientific method to try to figure out what’s really what.
Take out your mother’s brain. Before my kids were born, all I knew was that the phrase “mommy brain” probably meant forgetfulness or a type of nervous sludge. But when I first became a mom, other than periods of severe sleep deprivation, my brain didn’t feel slower, just different. In fact, in some ways it felt faster and more open.
The clichéd notion of a “mother and baby brain” has its roots in the 19th century idea that women are intellectually weakened by their ability to bear children, and this clearly flawed idea has persisted into modern times. Masu. But now, with a new study led by Emily Jacobs at the University of California, Santa Barbara, that provides a detailed map of the human brain during pregnancy, a number of studies have solidified this simple idea. However, it provides much-needed information to new parents. In short, during pregnancy and new parenthood, the brain undergoes a remarkable and complex metamorphosis, which Jacobs and colleagues suggest is a kind of “fine-tuning” in preparation for parenthood. It is reductive and wrong to suggest that this is a “baby brain” or cognitive disorder.
Importantly, this research could lead to much-needed insights into postpartum depression, preeclampsia, and other health problems. And now that we finally have the neuroscience to show both the complex changes and wide-ranging effects that pregnancy and new motherhood have on the brain, perhaps social studies can help reduce stress during this critical period. By securing support, we may be able to build a society that cares for caregivers. time.
Even though science cannot change social policy overnight, science can and does have the power to change our daily emotional and social experiences as parents.
New mothers often blame themselves for struggling in late stage capitalism and rosy ideals of motherhood. Since writing my book Matrescence (named after the anthropological term that refers to the entire period of transition to motherhood) and listening to the stories of hundreds of new parents, I have realized how common the feeling of shame is. I’ve seen how corrosive it is and how it causes people to internalize their problems. This prevents people from connecting with each other and asking for help. We’ve also seen how the emerging science of matrescence can bring relief and relief by helping people understand their feelings.
For example, I used to think that the nuclear family structure was somehow “natural” and that there was something wrong with me finding it difficult to spend long days alone with my newborn baby. The freedom and autonomy that I have been blessed with in my privileged life did not allow me to hold my baby while I nursed or went to the bathroom.
As I was trying to understand why modern motherhood seems so difficult for myself and for those around me, I discovered that the science of evolutionary anthropology is life-changing. I noticed. I didn’t know that the way we raise our children in the Global North is completely different than for 95% of our evolutionary history, when we lived primarily in small groups.
Our brains and nervous systems evolved in societies structured around collective child rearing. I learned from the legendary Sarah Blaffer Hardy that there is no way a female foraging alone could provide the 10 to 13 million calories a human child needs before it can find its own food. I learned that it is possible. They needed help and got help from their immediate community. I began to understand that the way my society had designed modern motherhood was actually very strange.
Knowing that we live in what researchers call an “evolutionary mismatch” can alleviate some of the shame and guilt we feel about society’s lofty ideals of motherhood. Other data are similarly reassuring. For example, if we learn that mothers spend twice as much time caring for their children each day and work more at the same time than they did in the 1960s, then we can see how the structure of caregiving in our economic environment leads to less stress. You may be able to explain how this can lead to stress. Moral failure.
Getting rid of shame may sound like a trivial personal problem, but perhaps scientific understanding in this context will be the path to change in material and economic conditions. Shame disconnects from oneself and can lead to withdrawal, loneliness, and poor health. But scientists can help uncover the realities of the caregiving experience that are hidden in the private sphere. Removing obstacles releases power (is that the point of obstacles?).
Social and cultural norms are less visible. But myths can be harmful. And science can help us understand more clearly our society’s failure to support or recognize those who are raising children in meaningful ways. And maybe I don’t have to feel so bad if my kids only like peas.
