This isn't a full review, but I just finished this book and had a moment of clarity today about it. Julia Sweeney first brought to my awareness the observable fact that we are all drug addicts. The drugs in question are things like oxytocin, dopamine, and serotonin. The Deep History book calls for a re-interpretation of our own sense of history along those lines. I saw an example of it today in my office.

My coworker brought in his 2 year old daughter for a quick visit before he went out of town for a week. As he and I spoke about the conference he has to go to, his daughter (very cute, very well behaved) drew out everyone in the vicinity. They all came over to look at her, fawn over how cute she is, ask all sorts of questions. Anyone with a kid knows this experience. The older people, who have kids of their own were not immune to the charms, but they all had some tempering story about how kids are cute, but...

Then the 24 year old accountant came out. She was drawn like a moth to a flame. She doesn't know why, but whenever she sees kids she just gets all happy. I said "yeah, they haven't become worn down and jaded like the rest of us." My co-worker said "in fact, they seem to take some of the edge off that."

Everyone smiled and nodded in agreement. Yes, children are the future. Won't someone think of the children?

I did my office-social duty, smiled, and nodded. But my brain was suddenly remembering something I'd read: when our brains see children, their chubby faces, misshapen heads, clumsy fingers, big eyes, innocent smiles, we get a surge of oxytocin. Its been observed, measured, and confirmed: we get a drug high from little kids.

That sure does help take the edge off.

How do you tell a naive 24 year old that it is not a mystery why she likes kids? The only real variables are how much of a surge of oxytocin a person has and how they respond to that surge (I say "only" variables, but they are hugely complex--people's reaction to oxytocin is extremely varied). The accountant has no bad associations, so its like pure crack. The parents in the group have their flood of oxytocin tempered by the memories of what a pain in the ass kids are.

For myself, I see a cute kid resembling a big dollar-sign, the rough weight and size of a ship's anchor, attached to her dad's neck.

Guess what? Kids aren't the only source of oxytocin! Women can play with their own nipples (seriously, look it up). I'll take my runner's/biker's/swimmer's high any day (OK, that's more dopamine, but you get the point).

Might as well face it, you're addicted to love

--Robert Palmer

(though I was more addicted to the Robert Palmer Girls...)