Fathers
of young kids need a bit of slack right now. They’re dealing with
contradictory pressures, unjust expectations and heart-wrenching
tradeoffs very similar to modern mothers, but without the formal or
informal training, without the support networks, and without the simple
hours on task with young kids that the primary caregiver gets. Workplace
expectations on men have not shifted substantially so far this century,
but social expectations have. And we are not equipping men with the
tools they need to juggle professional life and be good fathers.
Of course my data is largely anecdotal - but the recent round of summer house parties has brought out some tragic stories.
There’s plenty of discussion in media about the challenges of being a modern mum, keeping the fridge full and the laundry basket empty, doing taxi-runs to ballet and soccer, growing organic tomatoes, sending Christmas cards with a photo of the kids in santa hats, entering the odd 5km fun-run, and always managing to have a fabulous hairdo. A working mum of young kids carries the additional contradiction between her orderly, hierarchical and outcome-focused professional workplace, and the land of singing galoomph-went-the-little-green-frog, mopping mushed banana off the carpet, and arbitrating every five minutes over whether the cardboard tube is a fairy wand or a pirate sword, while keeping in mind the constant fatal risks of dehydration, drowning, burns or head injury.
It requires serious brain transplant skills to move back and forth between these worlds. Like any tricky skill, transplanting your brain like that takes training and practice. A forklift truck driver gets training and practice before they get a license. Skills which seemed inaccessible to most people 200 years ago, or at least very dangerous (reading, driving, managing a mortgage) have become normal with simple training mechanisms and prescribed practice.
Mothers generally have some level of training in ‘mothering’, although we don’t call it that. Most of us have a basic parenting template from our own mother and father, burned into our deeper brain when we were infants ourselves, and activated when the first child arrives. Grandmothers, and a selecton of other older women, might be at our doorstep with handknitted thingumms and old-fashioned tricks to get bub to sleep. They coach us in the early days, and back us up for the next decade. We get some formal training from the midwives and the Child and Maternal Health Services, and mumsy support networks rapidly develop through daycare and swimming and chance meetings in the local shopping centre. We get helplines and sleep schools and playgroups and web forums - and we need it! The adjustment is huge. The days are long and tiring and the cleanup is endless. But that is also where we get the practice we need in adjusting and attuning to our kids. And every moment with young kids there is the opportunity for magic - finding a christmas beetle, stopping the car to watch a construction site, taking training wheels off their first bike, standing back as they tuck into a huge box of strawberries.
In the
Many women expect their husbands to be able to keep up with them - and it is not fair on the dads. Men don’t get the same level of training and they don’t get the same hours of practice. Fathering templates vary enormously, and many men don’t actually want to replicate what their fathers did anyway. Classes and support groups for men are very limited. Few doctors watch for paternal postnatal depression. The workplace and sport communities don’t coach fathering the way the kinder-fundraising community coaches mothering. Additionally, many workplaces still collectively frown, and may penalise or passively marginalise men who leave early to pick up the kids, or spend their sick days on the family rather than themselves. They ‘aren’t dedicated’, or ‘can’t be relied on’, and might get pushed away from the interesting projects or fail to land that promotion. Coming home to young kids can suddenly seem noisy and chaotic, certainly smelly and full of trip hazards, and maybe even a bit threatening - paid overtime can seem like an easier way to be useful to the family. Previously-fun-loving wives can apparently suddenly change, going to bed early leaving the husband to watch TV by himself, snapping over minutae like breakfast dishes in the sink, and insisting on arbitrary behaviours using phrases like “You have to set a good example for the kids!”
Meanwhile, several of my mumsy friends are seething that their husbands are working longer hours, wanting to play or watch sport on the weekends, having the audacity to try reading the newspaper - all totally unfathomable priorities in Mum Land.
Partnerships all around my young-kids-demographic world are under strain, a few have already snapped.
So here’s what I’m asking.
Ladies - Cut your men some slack. Stop telling them what they’re doing wrong. Let them go out and earn money and fix the gutters and do the things they know how to do well. Let them deal with one child at a time, and let them get to know their kids (routine organised activities are good). Don’t expect them to juggle everything like you do. Keep an eye on their physical and mental health because men can be destructively stoic. Appreciate the things they do well, without mentioning their inadequacies.
Dads - Stop reading the newspaper when your wife is struggling. Once in a while, bring home a big punnet of strawberries for the kids and a bunch of flowers for your wife - this gets you bonus points. Tell each of your children once a week that you’re proud of them - find something in each of them to be proud of. Be mindful of mess and put away up 3 things every time you go upstairs. Leave the computer and go to sleep early alongside your wife occasionally.
Everyone - If you know a dad with young kids, get him talking about them. Sympathise with his dilemmas. It's a tough gig being a good dad.
Of course my data is largely anecdotal - but the recent round of summer house parties has brought out some tragic stories.
There’s plenty of discussion in media about the challenges of being a modern mum, keeping the fridge full and the laundry basket empty, doing taxi-runs to ballet and soccer, growing organic tomatoes, sending Christmas cards with a photo of the kids in santa hats, entering the odd 5km fun-run, and always managing to have a fabulous hairdo. A working mum of young kids carries the additional contradiction between her orderly, hierarchical and outcome-focused professional workplace, and the land of singing galoomph-went-the-little-green-frog, mopping mushed banana off the carpet, and arbitrating every five minutes over whether the cardboard tube is a fairy wand or a pirate sword, while keeping in mind the constant fatal risks of dehydration, drowning, burns or head injury.
It requires serious brain transplant skills to move back and forth between these worlds. Like any tricky skill, transplanting your brain like that takes training and practice. A forklift truck driver gets training and practice before they get a license. Skills which seemed inaccessible to most people 200 years ago, or at least very dangerous (reading, driving, managing a mortgage) have become normal with simple training mechanisms and prescribed practice.
Mothers generally have some level of training in ‘mothering’, although we don’t call it that. Most of us have a basic parenting template from our own mother and father, burned into our deeper brain when we were infants ourselves, and activated when the first child arrives. Grandmothers, and a selecton of other older women, might be at our doorstep with handknitted thingumms and old-fashioned tricks to get bub to sleep. They coach us in the early days, and back us up for the next decade. We get some formal training from the midwives and the Child and Maternal Health Services, and mumsy support networks rapidly develop through daycare and swimming and chance meetings in the local shopping centre. We get helplines and sleep schools and playgroups and web forums - and we need it! The adjustment is huge. The days are long and tiring and the cleanup is endless. But that is also where we get the practice we need in adjusting and attuning to our kids. And every moment with young kids there is the opportunity for magic - finding a christmas beetle, stopping the car to watch a construction site, taking training wheels off their first bike, standing back as they tuck into a huge box of strawberries.
In the
Many women expect their husbands to be able to keep up with them - and it is not fair on the dads. Men don’t get the same level of training and they don’t get the same hours of practice. Fathering templates vary enormously, and many men don’t actually want to replicate what their fathers did anyway. Classes and support groups for men are very limited. Few doctors watch for paternal postnatal depression. The workplace and sport communities don’t coach fathering the way the kinder-fundraising community coaches mothering. Additionally, many workplaces still collectively frown, and may penalise or passively marginalise men who leave early to pick up the kids, or spend their sick days on the family rather than themselves. They ‘aren’t dedicated’, or ‘can’t be relied on’, and might get pushed away from the interesting projects or fail to land that promotion. Coming home to young kids can suddenly seem noisy and chaotic, certainly smelly and full of trip hazards, and maybe even a bit threatening - paid overtime can seem like an easier way to be useful to the family. Previously-fun-loving wives can apparently suddenly change, going to bed early leaving the husband to watch TV by himself, snapping over minutae like breakfast dishes in the sink, and insisting on arbitrary behaviours using phrases like “You have to set a good example for the kids!”
Meanwhile, several of my mumsy friends are seething that their husbands are working longer hours, wanting to play or watch sport on the weekends, having the audacity to try reading the newspaper - all totally unfathomable priorities in Mum Land.
Partnerships all around my young-kids-demographic world are under strain, a few have already snapped.
So here’s what I’m asking.
Ladies - Cut your men some slack. Stop telling them what they’re doing wrong. Let them go out and earn money and fix the gutters and do the things they know how to do well. Let them deal with one child at a time, and let them get to know their kids (routine organised activities are good). Don’t expect them to juggle everything like you do. Keep an eye on their physical and mental health because men can be destructively stoic. Appreciate the things they do well, without mentioning their inadequacies.
Dads - Stop reading the newspaper when your wife is struggling. Once in a while, bring home a big punnet of strawberries for the kids and a bunch of flowers for your wife - this gets you bonus points. Tell each of your children once a week that you’re proud of them - find something in each of them to be proud of. Be mindful of mess and put away up 3 things every time you go upstairs. Leave the computer and go to sleep early alongside your wife occasionally.
Everyone - If you know a dad with young kids, get him talking about them. Sympathise with his dilemmas. It's a tough gig being a good dad.
