The Modern Dad: Surviving the New Age of Fathers

A few weeks ago my father forwarded me one of those cute little emails that makes the rounds two or three times. I got it at least two more times after that. You’ve probably seen it. It playfully recommends that the next season of Survivor should drop a group of fathers on an island, with one car and three children each. It then goes on to describe the activities normally engaged in by the typical mom, in everyday situations like: doctor’s appointments, daily childcare including mental and emotional well-being, spousal relations , and self upkeep. It’s an exhaustive and familiar list. In the end, the winner earns the right to call himself Mom.

Admittedly, on a different day I probably would have gotten a bigger giggle out of it, but mostly I was struck with how inaccurate it seemed. In my childhood, this probably would have been more relevant, but I’m a Mom in the New Age of Fathers. Back when I was a kid Dads didn’t do many of the activities described. Driving kids to activities, knowing their friends, being on the PTA, feeding and grooming, were all “Mom jobs”. But as the first generation of women not only encouraged, but expected to maintain full-time careers we are seeing the resulting evolution of the modern-day Father.

There were few, if any, items on the list my husband isn’t perfectly capable of doing. And most of them were part of his regular activities. I am luckily secure in the knowledge that should I die tomorrow my husband can easily locate the pediatrician’s office and the school, take the kids for haircuts, and make sure they are fed, bathed and clothed. None of this may be with the frequency, quality or emotional touch *I* may have provided, but over all I am confident they would get along fine without me. And I can’t emphasize enough how big a blessing that is. I can’t imagine living in the world of our foremothers. The weight I bear is crushing, and I’m only carrying half the load. Granted most women have entered the land of at least part-time employment, and that’s a lot to juggle, but we all know that the family side is the bigger job. It’s nice to know my burden can be shared.

It could actually appear as though men got the short end of that stick. Except, they didn’t. I have always enjoyed a unique friendship quality with my Dad. He’s on the short list of best friends I can talk to about anything. However, I understand my situation is not the norm for most girls from my era. This generation is so lucky. I see dads actively involved with their children everywhere I turn. Admittedly, not all of them, certainly not enough, and not everywhere; there are still a few zones that are primarily Dad-free, but overall an impressive number of loving, active fathers are increasingly involved with their children’s day-to-day activities. Dads aren’t just about the sports anymore. I see them at Scouts, and schools, and dance practices (not just shows, but actual practices!) Moreover, sometimes they are there voluntarily and proudly. And that’s a good thing, for the dads and the kids (and let’s face it, the moms too.)

In my own home, my husband does most of the cooking. And he’s good at it! I know I have joked in the past that I have refused to learn to use the barbeque so I could have a few nights off, but in fact, that’s not true. I haven’t learned to use the barbeque because I don’t like to cook outside. I still do the majority of the shopping (food and clothing) but I always have help unloading the car and putting it all away. When, and I emphasize when, the house gets cleaned, I haven’t had to run a vacuum in years, even though I have only been expected to do the fair exchange of routine car maintenance on an emergency basis.(Although in all fairness, that’s how often we clean house too.) He drives the kids to school in the mornings because I’m the night shift parent. I stay up and wait for everyone to get tucked away or to get home safely and lock up for the night on weekends. We share the job of parenting.

I don’t know how much of this was just who he was to begin with, and how much was where circumstances led us. We were never a couple. My oldest was about 3 months old when we began dating, and by the time we got married we were expecting the second. Everything we registered for was meant to survive, or be destroyed by, toddlers. There would be the opportunity for pretty, breakable things when they were older (And no. We have apparently not reached that point yet.) I didn't marry him just for that sweet mullet either. I knew I was in a good place when, the morning following his proposal, I awoke to find him and the baby gone. Once I overcame my initial panic I learned he had taken her over to his parent's house, to introduce them to their new granddaughter. He had even packed a diaper bag with all the necessary items without ever waking me. (Makes you want to cry doesn’t it?)

We started out as a family. In the beginning I wanted to be the perfect Susie-homemaker, but with two babies that was too overwhelming, and since I had a willing partner…  we shared the workload a little. This man fed and bathed our babies and had fun doing it. He enjoyed them. Bless his heart it was the 90′s, so not only did the poor man do diapers, he had to master cloth diapers and pins! He proudly carried a diaper bag or pushed a stroller. I never had to ask my own spouse to babysit. When we needed extra income and I had to go back to work we split the job. I stayed home days and worked nights. I got daily activities like laundry and cleaning (I sucked at both.) He got dinner duty, baths, and bedtime. I missed it terribly, but I had the confidence to know I never had to call home to make sure they were taken care of. Neither did he.

Over the years, we have just continued this way. Whoever is home, is the One. Everything gets shared. Some of the best wisdom I ever got from my Mom was that marriage was never 50/50, someone always carried the brunt of the burden. But if you’re lucky, you can bounce it back and forth like a beach ball. Sometimes it seems like I’m doing it all, but when I step outside my hereditary curse of martyrdom I realize I’ve never been in this alone, and I’ve never really carried more than my fair share. This guy, snoring on the couch and driving me insane this week, has been my partner in crime through it all. So when I consider comparing parenting to a reality show test of endurance and skill, I think mine is more like the Amazing Race. We are a team and no one wins if we don’t support each other. Sometimes one of us even has to carry the other. It’s not just how you handle the hard times, but how you manage the day-to-day stuff. If you can do it together your chances improve. Our journey has been amazing, and while I’m not in too much of a hurry to get to the finish line, when I do, I want my team-mate (my moody, snoring, crazy-making nap-aholic team-mate) by my side. I couldn’t do it without him.

So to all you wonderful Dads I know: my own, my friends, and my husband– Have the Happiest of Father’s Days. You deserve the tribute.