Personal Essay: Dads Don't Babysit
Taking care of our kid doesn't make my husband a saint.
by Jeanne Sager
May 6, 2009
When my daughter was born, I already knew my husband had the makings of a Wonder Dad. I married him, after all. I just didn't expect to hear about it everywhere I went: the glowing tones, the gushing from other women, the constant reminders that I "picked a good one," because he not only knew how to change a diaper, but did so.
Let me be clear — my husband IS a fantastic father, a wonderful husband, the love of my life . . . the whole nine. But he'd be the first to tell you that he's not looking for accolades. He's just looking to be a parent.
That I still outrank him on the numbers of diapers changed or number of boo-boos kissed has more to do with my work-at-home job and his work-at-an-office job than it does with his involvement in our daughter's life.
Today's dads do a lot more than their predecessors, it's true. My daughter's godmother related once that her father never changed a single diaper. She has three brothers. Even if they potty-trained early, that's a good six years of avoidance.
My husband doesn't spend time with our daughter because he's required to or because it's going to get him something.
What does that say about the man? That he couldn't lift a finger to help his wife? That he was so disgusted by his own children's poop that he couldn't bear to touch a diaper? I think it says he was lazy, that he was willing to make a baby, but not responsible enough to deal with the aftermath.
So what if it was culturally acceptable back then? It was once culturally acceptable to drop racial epithets into polite conversation; that doesn't make it any less disgusting.
It's not just diapers, of course. In the months when my daughter was still getting up in the middle of the night, my husband took his share of evening shifts (this was after I'd quit breastfeeding). It was only fair, he said.
He knows the words to Green Eggs and Ham as well as I do, knows that peanut butter and jelly sandwiches need to be cut into four triangles and that juice cups should be filled halfway with water. He has a carseat in his car, picks her up at the sitter, makes her dinner.
In short, my husband knows how to be a parent — like millions of other dads. Labor figures put the number of fathers providing primary care to their kids today at one in five, while surveys have put the number of fathers who've mulled staying at home with their kids anywhere from thirty-seven percent to fifty-six. They're taking over Brownie troops and grabbing hold of stroller steering.
About the Author |
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Jeanne Sager is a freelance writer and photographer living in upstate New York with her husband and daughter, Jillian. She maintains a blog of her award-winning columns at jeannesager.blogspot.com. |
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