Here's to the 'good dads'
And why we need to stop assuming that men are incapable of caring for their kids.
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It’s currently just after 6am on an ordinary Thursday morning and in just over an hour, I’m going to be jumping on a plane to visit my parents in New Zealand for four whole days. This in and of itself may not feel significant—but it is the first time in as many years that I’ve been away from my kids (sans one miserable night I spent in hospital whilst pregnant.. but let’s all agree that doesn’t count.)
So as many mothers will relate, I’m feeling all the feels. A mixture of excitement at the prospect of sleeping beyond 5am simply because I want to, drinking a hot coffee with two hands, reading an actual book uninterrupted, finishing a complete sentence… etc etc. But also apprehension, because for my kids, four days is a lifetime in their world and not being able to read them a bedtime story and sniff their little heads before they go to sleep makes my heart ache.
What I’m not feeling, however, is any sort of worry, concern or otherwise in regards to leaving our kids in my husband’s very capable hands. And yet, over the last couple of weeks, anytime either of us has mentioned this trip to other people, we’ve been met with a response akin to wonderment—like it’s incredible that he is able to cope for four whole days alone. Without instruction. Without anyone’s help.
It also reinforces a running joke my husband and I have which we call: poor Nath. While the phrase itself can be credited to my lovely mum—who, for context, often tosses it his direction as a form of kindness. Like, ‘poor Nath’ having to work during the weekend. Or, ‘poor Nath’ having to sleep on a mattress on the floor (when our four year old has nightmares)—we now use it frequently every time there is a perceived hardship in our home, or Nath completes some basic domestic task which we find amusing.
But often, we discuss the hilarity of the concept more broadly when we are met with the assumption from someone beyond our immediate family orbit that he is seen as either:
a) ‘doing me a favour’ anytime he cares for our kids solo
OR
b) absolutely incredible that he even possesses the skills to parent alone
I mean, sure, all parents can empathise with the exhaustion of parenting full-time, with no help in sight. But single parents do this daily and nobody is throwing them a ticker-tape parade.
But on some level, it still feels like our societal expectations of who is capable of being the primary parent are completely skewed. There remains an underlying supposition that in a hetero partnership, the ‘mum’ is the gatekeeper and oracle of all things children-related. And furthermore, that in her absence, her partner is completely ill-equipped or lacking the training to operate effectively alone.
Now, we of course can’t assume the dynamic in every partnership is equal—or even close to equal—in fact, we know it’s not most of the time with recent research illustrating that women still carry the burden of care. In 2021, 54 percent of families reported that the main person looking after their children was a woman and only 40 percent of families report equal sharing of responsibility.
But despite this, I think it’s vital that we give more men the benefit of the doubt. After all, they are the co-founders of their kids.
What’s also important, however, is that we give mothers the same level of respect for care work. Almost every mum friend I’ve spoken to in recent years can share a story where they have been completely overlooked—as if invisible—whilst caring for their kids. They could be carrying a screaming toddler, pushing a truckload of groceries, breastfeeding a baby or walking down the road sans pants and nobody even looks up. But, if their partner offers to change a nappy in public and someone (often a boomer) notices, he is met with silent applause and she is met with eyes that say: God, you’re so lucky to have such a hands on partner.
I mean, I don’t even know where to begin dismantling this narrative, but in the first instance, if we ever want to instigate change on a societal level, we need to start championing the storyline that dads are as capable and often as willing as their partners to put in the hard yards with their kids. But let it also be said, if we are collectively going to continue to set off fireworks in their wake simply because they changed a nappy, can we at least try to do the same for mums?
At the end of the day, I do feel grateful to have found an equal partner in Nath and I recognise that not every partnership is as balanced. But as I sit here in the bustling airport, hot coffee in hand, I also have no doubt that my kids will thrive over the next four days—as I will. In fact, they probably haven’t even noticed I’m gone. Which is of great comfort as I’m already missing the smell of their little heads.
I’m nodding along with this Ashley, feeling absolutely all of it with you. i didn’t have quite the same experience partner-wise… I recall the early years of my sons life… his dad *was* capable (not enthusiastic, but capable) but often used the phrase ‘babysitting’ about the times I went out and left him home with our son, as if it was a favour he was doing me, not a joyful opportunity to bond with his son.
Amen! Your family will reap the rewards of this balance for years to come, as will the world later on, as you model a healthy partnership for your children.