This is a subject I have been meaning in to touch on for a while. Every day, usually on Facebook, I see pictures, quotes and the like being passed around stating how women do so much and men do so little, how women know so much and men don’t etc etc. I may be a women myself, but these images make me seethe.
Let me tell you why.
My husband works a twelve hour day – he leaves the house at 6.30am and returns at 6.30pm if not later. He often works away and sometimes has to work evenings. He is the sole financial provider for our family and carries that pressure constantly. When he gets home he often takes over the childcare which can include bathtime, feeding, cleaning up and putting to bed. He then cooks tea. Then he cleans up after tea. He usually sits down at eight and we go to bed at ten.
Over the weekend he takes his turn getting up with the children. Whilst I am sleeping he takes the children to the supermarket to do the shopping. He takes them for walks, to the park or the garden centre.
When the children were born we took it in turns every night to do a night shift. He changed nappies, in fact he changed all the nappies for the first two days whilst I recovered from my c-sections. He made bottles, he wiped bums, he burped, he was puked and pooed on. He did everything a new parent should and more.
He gives kisses and cuddles, he fixes scraped arms and knees, he builds toys and reads bedtime stories. He relinquishes the TV for Peppa Pig and Fireman Sam, he gives up the iPad for pre-school games and he drinks his share of air from plastic cups. He makes candy floss and milkshakes, he has his own games that are just for daddy time. He plays hide and seek with cheating eyes and crawls around the room carrying two giggling toddlers on his back as he pants under their weight.
So when I see posts berating daddies for not being up to par, and trying to claim the prize of parenthood to the female of the species I instantly defend my husband. He is the best daddy in our household and often the best parent. He does his best every single day and is frequently too tired to climb the stairs to bed. He has replaced his nights out with nights in bed mopping poorly brows and reads The Gruffalo instead of The Hobbit.
He creates infectious giggles and the sound of chasing feet upstairs, he is firm when he needs but melts under the sight of those big baby eyes. He has supported me through the darkest of times and held up our family as he did it. He has the strongest of shoulders and warmest of arms.
Are women better parents then men? I don’t think it is about the sex, it is about the heart.
This post is linking up to #ThePromt at Mum Turned Mom