Fun Daddy,
Here we are, seven months into raising our son, and I have spent the day struggling to keep him out of the dog bowls, away from the oven, and off of the too-high couch he is desperate to climb. I am now attempting to get him to sleep at a reasonable approximation of his bedtime. He sees where I am taking him, and gives me a drowsy look of frustration at my betrayal before letting out an angry sob. Today, and most days, I am Mean Mama.
You will come through the door soon, home from a business trip and missing your baby boy, and throw him in the air (just a little too high for my comfort). He will laugh and smile and kick his legs in excitement. He will not be sleepy anymore, but that doesn’t matter. Fun Daddy is home, and it is not Fun Daddy’s job to get the baby to sleep.
I have no idea how we fell into these roles so quickly. We used to both be fun people – too fun, certain officers of the law might have said. We were sure we would stay fun and lighthearted while absolutely nailing the responsibilities of parenthood, and our children would consider us Super Fun (but dependable and conscientious) Parents. Alas, we are not even a year into this thing and already we have become Mean Mama and Fun Daddy.
I am the full-time, stay-at-home parent. It is my job to keep our son safe and healthy and feeling secure, but these are not things that a child his age (or any age) knows how to enjoy and appreciate. He wants to be excited and surprised. He wants to be thrilled – and thrilling activities are just not a part of the day that I often have energy for after a long twelve hours of keeping him away from electrical cords and enforcing naptime.
You are the working parent, with long hours and frequent business trips. It is your job to provide for us, and to do the Fun Daddy stuff when you get home. I remind myself often of how hard you are working when we don’t see you, but it’s still hard, after a long day of chasing after the baby, to see him give all his best smiles and happiest faces to you. I am his caretaker – you are his hero.
Don’t get me wrong – I’m glad he has a hero for a dad. Many children have to settle for absentee fathers, or fathers who are too tired and stressed to enjoy a few minutes of roughhousing before bedtime. I just wish these moments fell more evenly on my side and yours. Instead, it is my job to cut the rough play short so he doesn’t wind himself up before bedtime and spend tomorrow grumpy and exhausted. Mean Mama is always thinking about tomorrow, about healthy diets and growth charts and brain development, about the kind of adult we are preparing to send out into the world. Fun Daddy gets to think about how to make his baby boy smile bigger and laugh harder right now.
For Mother’s Day, you watched him for the entire day, even taking him to the grocery store. You even had the presence of mind not to call it babysitting, since you were, in fact, watching your own child. You did a fantastic job, and by the end of the day you were tired and irritable, haggard and worn out, and just like Mean Mama you were counting down the minutes to bedtime. Thrilled to see my son, and missing him after a long day of empty arms and quiet car rides, I grabbed him and instinctively threw him up in the air, treasuring his joyful noises and big grins. It felt pretty good to be you for a minute.
It’s plain to see that all we need is more balance, but that’s a problem much easier acknowledged than solved. We’re on our way though, with baby steps, as I learn to enjoy our little moments and you clean more floors and bottles than you used to. Maybe for now I just need to count my lucky stars and be grateful our son has a fun parent at all – because, all things considered, you’re a pretty good one.
Love,
Mean Mama
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