According to Harvard professor Daniel Gilbert, I should be in the abyss of depression, so deep that I may never claw my way out. After all, I have nine kids.  And according to this article, that sets me up for a near lifetime of grief. Being rich, he tells me, would have been way better. Way, way better.

“But it’s never the case that more money makes you sadder. If you get millions and millions you never get depressed about it.”

And despite the belief that children were the apples of our eyes, they actually had a negative impact on happiness.

The more kids you had, the sadder you were likely to be, Prof Gilbert said.

US and European studies had shown that people’s happiness did spike while they were expecting a baby but sharply plummeted after the child was born.

The low point came when children reached the ages of 12-16, and recovered only when they had flown the coop, he said.

“In reality … children do seem to increase happiness as long as you’re expecting them, but as soon as you have them, trouble sets in,” he said.

Professor Gilbert is later quoted comparing kids to socks. He says we rationalize the trials  of having children and somehow make it sound like we are having the time of our lives.

“When people own Armani socks they can’t stop telling you they are the best socks, the most amazing socks,” he said.

“(But) I suspect that one of the reasons that people who own Armani socks think they are wonderful is because they have paid $85 for a pair.

Using that analogy, I should think I am wildly happy because I’ve spent more than $85 to raise my kids thus far. But maybe it would be a false happiness? Do I know if I’m happy? I thought I was happy, but now maybe I’m not. What about the Duggars? Are they happy? Their 18th child is on the way (vote on a baby name here). They seem happy. I seem happy.  I’m so confused.

I’m confused because in this NY Times article, Professor Gilbert makes the case that, once you have enough money, more cash will not increase happiness proportionately.

Another way I follow what I’ve learned from data is that I don’t chase dollars now that I have enough of them, because I know that it will take a very large amount of money to increase my happiness by a small amount.

You couldn’t pay me $100,000 to miss a play date with my granddaughters.

And that’s not because I’m rich. That’s because I know that a hundred grand won’t make me as happy as nurturing my relationship with my granddaughters will.

Apparently children will not make you happy, but grandchildren will. One of life’s little ironies, isn’t it, can’t get one without the other.

There are trade-offs, of course. There are trade-offs to buying $85 socks, too. I can almost fill up my gas tank for $85. Of course, if I had fancier socks, I might prefer to walk.

Maybe I am deluding myself. I estimate that while writing this post I have been interrupted by the little darlings 28 times. I was chief consultant on french toast making, I had to express sympathy over an owie, there was a diaper to change and there were various other issues which probably could have waited until I was done. So I was frustrated while trying to write about happiness. But for me it balances out because there will be sticky hugs and funny little pictures that say “Mom I love you” with some of the letters written backwards. I can hear my children giggling outside right now. How much is that worth?

I know, I know it is a little sappy, but even on my worst day I would not trade my 9 kids, even for 9 pairs of Armani socks.

I understand that different people have different ideas of happiness. I like to sit on the beach but have no interest in going in the water. Getting in the water would make me miserable. Others love it. I like chocolate. One of my best friends can’t stand it (the perfect friend to have, too, she never gets into my stash!). I don’t need an expert to tell me what it is that makes ME happy. I choose to decide that for myself. Having children might make Professor Gilbert unhappy. It might make a lot of people unhappy. I just can’t seem to agree that having more kids makes a person even unhappier. As a friend likes to remind us, once you are outnumbered, it is really all the same.

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