Is having kids still really worth it?

EVERY now and then I get asked if I regret having kids, not least because of how much it costs to raise them. But how do you answer when your feelings aren’t black and white, asks Darren Levin.

Do you ever resent your kids for the money they cost you?

This is a question I get regularly asked by kid-curious friends who aren’t yet ready to sacrifice their life of fun, frivolity, and sparkling table water at restaurants (pretty much every parent I know orders tap).

The correct response to this question is one illusive non-answer: “I wouldn’t change it for the world.” In repeating this time-honoured answer, you’re then allowed to say basically anything while outwardly maintaining the fantasy that you’re perfectly OK with life as you know it ending the day your children were born.

For example: “Sometimes I do miss eight hours of uninterrupted sleep - but you know what? I wouldn’t change it for the world.” And, “Yeah, of course, I’d like to join you all for a Sunday session, but I have eight loads of washing to put on and crusts to cut off sandwiches and honestly, I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

MORE FROM DARREN LEVIN: My genius bogeyman plot has spectacularly backfired

It’s rubbish, of course. Any parent that hasn’t contemplated trading their children in for a four-week holiday to Bali where you’re not on lifeguard duty all day is probably a liar. But resenting them for the amount of money they cost? Nah.

Resenting your kids is fine, but not because of how much they cost. (Pic: supplied)

I resent my kids for having a life of leisure, while their two doting parents prepare meals, shop, and do their laundry for them. I resent them for having both recess and lunch, which I assume they don’t eat while doing fractions and long division at their desks. I resent them for having seemingly unreserved amounts of energy and a future open to endless possibilities. But do I resent them for a wallet full of maxed-out credit cards and 25 years of mortgage stress? No way.

I get why people would think that though. Kids cost a literal fortune. A report from Canberra’s NATSEM puts it at roughly $400,000 from birth until they (hopefully) finish uni and stop mooching. That includes clothing, board, schooling, food, and other essentials like $15 socks with non-slip grip patterns that simply must be worn at the draconian trampoline mega-centre that just opened up around the corner from their best friend’s house.

MORE FROM DARREN LEVIN: AS A DAD OF GIRLS, PUBLIC TOILETS ARE A MINEFIELD

The study came out in 2013, meaning it’s probably - and I am terrible at maths - even worse now. NATSEM found that the cost of raising a child rises twice as fast as the average Australian income, so you can tell that to your parents next time they say how easy it is to buy a house. (“But $80,000 was a lot of money for a four-bedroom house with a pool in 1995!” they say as you slowly die.) Meanwhile, kids are moving out later than ever, aged around 21, which means you’re basically supporting them until you’re too old to have fun anyway.

Darren Levin with his three daughters. (Pic: supplied)

Roughly $400,000 for 20 odd years sounds like a lot of coin. But my wife and I have three children, so it’s more like $1.2 million, or 250 overseas holidays, 2400 degustations (with matched wines), four Aston Martins, or an inner-city hovel in Sydney.

I used to wonder what in god’s name people were thinking popping out six kids in the 1950s when they were walking 20 miles in the snow and could barely afford a roof over their heads. So I asked my late, and immensely wonderful nana Rita a few years before I had kids of my own. It turns out she had the same question for her mother when she fell pregnant in the early-1950s and was barely making rent.

“Every child brings wealth into the world,” she said. And while at the time I thought she was referring to child labour - they started ‘em pretty young back in those days - I have come to learn what she really meant.

$1.2-million may seem like a lot of money, but you can’t quantify the joy of watching three beautiful girls grow up (and hopefully pay you back one day).

Hand on heart, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Darren Levin is a writer, editor and wannabe dad-fluencer based in Melbourne. Find him on Twitter and Instagram.