The Working Dad

My husband is awesome.  I think that he is typical of a lot of modern husbands and daddies.  The dads of the mid-twentieth century sort of left the heavy-lifting of parenting and housework to the mommies, even if the mommies worked outside the home.  It was the curse of economic equality for the ladies:  you get to have your job, ma'am, but you've still got to cover all the bases at home.  That's not the way we are, now, not at my house, and not at a lot of houses I know.

There's been some criticism of the "companionate marriage" in which the husband and wife are contented friends as much as, or even more than, lovers.  (Does anybody else hate that word?  I couldn't come up with a better one.)  These sorts of marriages are criticized for being sexless and devoid of romance and excitement.  Rather than romanceless, I would say that a companionate marriage, like mine, is realistic, practical, fun . . . and still very loving with room for romance.

I think that our mid-twentieth century mothers helped us out by raising their sons to be helpmeets.  My mom has often spoken with pride about how she taught my brother how to do the laundry and other "women's work" sort of chores.  And I know that my brother is an awesome daddy and househelper.  He does not leave it all to his wife.

Neither does my husband.  My husband is also a lawyer.  His job is, pretty much, just like mine.  It's stressful.  It's demanding.  It's frustrating.  It's enervating.  And, just like me, he's got to balance that job with home and family.  He definitely does not leave it all up to me.

Here's a typical evening at our house:  I come home first, with The Boy.  I try to get dinner started for my husband and me, if The Boy will let me.  I may throw a load of laundry into the washer or dryer.  I feed The Boy.  At some point during the feeding, his dad comes home.  Dad immediately gets to washing all of the bottle parts and other hand washing stuff.  He loads the dishwasher.  After that, he either starts dinner, or picks up from where I left off.  Meanwhile, I finish feeding The Boy, change his diaper, give him a bath (or at least wipe him down really well), get him dressed for bed and then put him to bed.  My husband, during this time, also cleans up the kitchen, cleans the floors and, sometimes, even changes my cat's catbox.  He helps me fold the laundry.  He pays the bills online.  And sometimes, when The Boy is cranking, he comes to help me settle the little guy down and put him to bed.

In the mornings my husband gives The Boy his first bottle of the day so that I can attend to The Cat, who is diabetic.  He fixes The Boy's bottles for school.  He makes his coffee-addicted wife a cup of coffee every morning as she scoots out the door so that she can get to the office early.  If I have not had time to change The Boy and get him dressed for school, he does that too.  Then he takes The Boy to school.  Only then does he get a shower himself, get his own breakfast, and get to work.  And maybe he will play his piano for a few minutes before he heads to the office.  He deserves those few minutes for himself.

Honestly, sometimes I feel guilty that my husband does so much.  And here, in this blog, I have been calling him "Mr. The Working Mom."  Well, that's not fair.  He's not just my husband, defined solely by his marriage to me.  He's his own person, just like me.  And so, he shall be called in this blog, from now on, The Working Dad.

Every woman deserves a man who....

Periodically, in my Facebook feed, I will see a post that say something like this:

"Every woman deserves a man who calls her baby, kisses her like he means it, holds her like he never wants to let her go, doesn't lie or cheat...."

It tends to go on for several lines cataloguing a list of fairly predictable, romantic-movie-eligible characteristics of a man who treats his beloved "right."

In sentiment, I completely agree with the notion that every woman deserves to be cherished by her spouse or partner; every man does too.

But I cringe a little bit every time I see posts like this.  They actually make me go a little dark.  I'm not entirely sure why.  Maybe it's because the lists seem contrived.  Maybe it seems sort of like a demand.  Maybe it seems like an Oprahfication of romance.  But, probably, it's because it really doesn't line up with my experience of life and love in these our modern times.

I mean, I feel totally and completely cherished by my husband, and I'm not sure that Mr. TheWorkingMom has ever called me "baby."

And my personal experience has been -- in my close to 20-year dating/single life prior to meeting, befriending, dating, and then marrying Mr. TheWorkingMom -- that every guy I have ever dated who fit the romantic bits of that list never turned out to fit the "doesn't cheat or lie" bit. Pet names and lying cheaters just seemed to go hand in hand in my history.  And I might be so bold as to suggest that guys who call you "baby" and "sweetums" might tend to be doing so to hide something.  But maybe I'm just being cynical.

Nevertheless, today, I hereby commit to cyberspace my list of what I  think every woman and man deserves in a partner for life:

1. Everyone deserves a person in his or her life who will always tell them the unvarnished truth, even if the truth is not pleasant or complimentary.
2. Everyone deserves a person who respects their intelligence and seeks out their opinion.
3. Everyone deserves a person who laughs at their silliest jokes.
4. Everyone deserves to sit on the sofa every night with their best friend.
5. Everyone deserves to have a partner who does things for you without asking, and who thanks you when you do the same for him/her.
6. Everyone deserves to live with a person who has got your back.
7. Everyone deserve a person whose favorite person is "you."
8. Everyone deserve a partner-in-crime.
9. Everyone deserve a sympathetic ear.
10. Everyone deserve to be loved, no matter how it is expressed.

There.

Well, even my list seems trite and Oprahfied.  So I guess I will stop cringing when I see that list, seeing that my list isn't so much more profound.

Still, here's my point:  it's not about what's classically considered to be romantic.  It's about friendship, respect, and fun . . . at least, for me it is.

And I guess I'll say this to close:  I'm glad that I sit on the sofa every night next to Mr. TheWorkingMom.  I hope everyone else finds the perfect sofa companion too.