I suppose there are parents who are detached or resent or hate their kids. Most of us are enthralled and enslaved and abashed and humbled by their mere existence. And there are kids who are truly cursed who take advantage of their parents' doting upon them.
My kids, thank God, have thus far trod lightly upon my heart. They have given me enormous joy and pleasure and their childhood has literally whizzed past me. Their co-existence in my homes would be hard to describe to someone who hasn't had children. They are like exotic animals who are benign and tame at the same time. They are like funhouse mirrors that reflect your fondest aspirations and dreams in a purified, glorious form. They come to ineluctably personify all that you hope for in the world.