In between sessions at the Philadelphia Writer’s Conference Friday night, I snuck into the bar in the hotel lobby for a glass of wine. I took a seat at the end of the bar, ordered a cabernet, and opened a magazine. I read for a few minutes before other conferees started trickling in.
Writers, it seems, like to drink (a little). And talk ( a lot).
The seats at the bar filled up with writers and editors. I fit right in. Sort of.
I recognized the name of the man who sat down next to me; he was on the list of conference speakers. As we talked, I mentioned that I’d been in New Jersey less than a year, and that we’d moved here due to Leading Man’s Air Force career.
He said he was staying in the hotel, even though he lived close. I explained I was driving home, because it wasn’t that far. Our perspectives, it seemed, were quite different.
“I have two kids and two puppies at home,” I added. “My husband is watching them while I’m here.”
“He must *really* love you,” he responded.
“Yes,” I stammered, surprised by his stealthy, unintentionally sexist comment.
“I earned some super-wifey bonus points by going it alone during four long deployments,” I added, feeling some strange need to justify my husband’s behavior.
The bottom line is that I take care of two small children and two puppies all day, every day. I also work from home, in between wiping noses, folding laundry, and fixing toys, dinner, and sibling squabbles. Writing is my work, and I approach it with dedication and tenacity. I squeeze it in. I gut it out. And Leading Man supports me. He closes the door to my office to give me distraction-free writing time on weekends. I know; I’m fortunate.
Where’s the rant, you ask? This is Sunday Soapbox, after all. And it’s starting to feel a little lovey-dovey.
Here’s my problem:
No one will ever tell Leading Man that his wife must *really* love him because she’s willing to take care of two kids and two puppies while he works. They assume it’s my job, even when they meet me in the context of my work. If taking care of kids and puppies reveals anything, it’s that I *really* love my kids and my puppies.
In my book, Leading Man doesn’t get super-hubby bonus points for caring for our kids and our puppies. The wet-nosed, laundry making brood is as much his responsibility as it is mine. He is not “babysitting” when I am away. He is parenting.
It's true, Leading Man supports my career because he loves me. And I appreciate the ways he facilitates and supports my writing. But he takes care of our children and our puppies because he loves them. He loves spending time with them, even if it is exhausting.
And so this morning, I’m on my soapbox to say dads don’t babysit their kids, they parent them. Please, don't assume the kids are my responsibility. We share that. And we share the credit, too.
FIVE CYGNETS AND A SWAN
© Tatyana Chernyak | Dreamstime.com
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