Us moms, we do a lot. We take on tons of responsibility and wear the weight of the world, not necessarily because we have to but because we just do. We stress over, well, everything, and then we stress that our baby daddy doesn’t stress.
“Like how did you pick out that outfit so fast? It doesn’t even match. Did you even think about what we’re doing today?”
“What do you mean you don’t know how to pack a bag? Why are you asking me? Wait, you didn’t even pack diapers?!”
“Yogurt and Easy Mac? For dinner? Seriously?”
“How could you possibly have slept through that last night? You didn’t hear him AGAIN? What would happen if the house was burning down and I wasn’t here?”
We can barely fathom how dads can possibly not know all the things that us moms know and keep tucked away in our brains. We question how they’d survive without us. And we team up to “Oh my gosh, YES!” and giggle at them as mom after mom tells an oh-so relatable story of her own. It seems so universal.
Until there’s that night or day or week or weekend when you’re all alone. You’re rocking the mom thing. You’re rocking the head of house thing. You got this! But you’re beat, and it’s hard. And then you’re no longer feeling like the invincible do-it-all mom. In that moment, you really start to appreciate having your other half.
I traded bath time duty for dishes and cleaning our butcher block counters one night, and I realized, sponge in hand, that I have never really taken on counter top duty. I have never oiled them down, and I had no idea my husband has an entire cleaning routine. I had to ask him what to do.
I then thought about it, and I never take out the trash. Ok, on the very rare occasion I pull the actual bag, but I’m 100% reliant on the fact the trash can magically makes it to the curb and back next to the house each week.
I don’t know how to take care of a yard. I mean, I guess I could if I had to, but I don’t have time for that. We have green grass and trimmed trees and for all I know, pest control. But not because of me.
I have a cup of coffee ready to go each morning. I could definitely make it myself, but I get up later, so I don’t have to. And those occasional days when there’s no coffee, you’d think I was helpless.
Grilling? Got to have food for dinner. All of us. Might as well throw in most of the cooking. And lots of dishes.
The house doesn’t fix itself. Or any of the appliances in it.
He always takes the lead on Nose Frieda.
I’ve NEVER clipped my child’s nails.
He feeds the dog, and packs and coordinates dog sitting when we need it.
Dog medicine? Oh gosh, no, not me!
And he’s even now adopted full responsibility of keeping MY house plants alive.
All of the sudden the list starts to grow. Then there’s all those other things that we both do. And the bonuses, like Saturday morning trips to Home Depot so Mama can sleep in or workout or whatever.
So maybe there are some things us moms solely do. And maybe there are other things we choose to do. But take away all the perfection and unrealistic expectations, and suddenly you realize how much dads do too. All of the sudden those mismatched clothes don’t matter so much anymore.
I’m lucky I get to mom with my other half. I’d be lost doing it any other way.
Happy Father’s Day to all you awesome Dads out there!