A Journey Through Guilt

I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately. Probably partially because Mason has been feverish, and waking up with momentary screams, awakening that protective instinct in me. And I fall back to sleep and toss and turn until I jolt awake again. It’s the screams, and I suppose it’s stress too– a lot of things in my life have changed.

It’s days like today when I feel the weight of motherhood bearing down on me full-force. Sometimes it’s difficult to comprehend the impact that the decisions your make for your own life have on the life of your child. Hard to even believe that your choices mean so much.

My mother once said to me that motherhood is a journey filled with guilt. At the time, I thought that sounded very pessimistic, maybe even downright depressing. How right she was, though. I’m not too familiar with guilt as it’s never been something that particularly plagued me or made me anxious, but there have been many instances in my short experience as a mother where I’ve felt it seep in and start nagging in the back of my mind.

When I was at home with Mason all the time, guilt was like my middle name. I felt like I wasn’t doing enough…never mind the laundry or the dishes, I felt like I wasn’t doing enough for him. “Talk to him!” all the books said, “It’s good for him!” So I tried to talk out loud all day. But I kept running out of things to say. How many sentences can you possibly make up for someone who doesn’t, can’t, give any back? I felt constantly cooped up and crazed– loony tunes and talking into thin air.

When Mason became more responsive and playful, it was easier…and then I got the breathing room that I had been aching for. I got a job. And now the guilt comes from an entirely different place. Instead of spending almost every moment with my son, I now get maybe two hours before he’s off to sleep on weekdays. I walked into his daycare to pick him up and he was taking steps! I was so excited that I was there to see it…and then she told me that he had already been doing it for a few days, and she hadn’t told me because she wanted me to see it for myself. I was glad that she let me have that moment, but guilt began tugging at me. I should have been the first, I thought, I’m his Mommy.

But I suppose this is just the first step of the letting go that all parents have to do at some point. Eventually children grow up, and while they may always need you in some shape or form, they certainly don’t need you forever for everything. I will unfortunately miss many more firsts…it’s just the way it is.

So I appease my guilt-ridden brain by reminding myself of the good things. Like Mason’s smile when I walk into his daycare to pick him up, because he knows that I’ll always come back. Or his wild excitement when I chase him around the house. Or the idea that maybe he adores his blankie so much because it reminds him of home and makes him feel safe. Or the pride I feel in knowing that I’m raising a strong, smart little boy who hopefully, through his experiences in not having me by his side at every single moment, will be able to find happiness in his own ability to be independent when he needs to be.

The greatest gifts you can give your children are the roots of responsibility and the wings of independence. – Denis Waitley

The Latest Whirlwind

I was talking about passions earlier today, and mentioned writing as one of mine, and it dawned on me that I’ve been neglecting that passion lately…especially when it comes to this blog! I’ve just had so much going on. So much to write about and absolutely no time to actually sit down and write it. So I figured I would take this last hour before bed on a Sunday night to process all of it.

A few life-changing things have happened to me in the past month. For one, I finally graduated from college. It felt like it took so long. To actually walk across that stage was a really great feeling. Not only did I do it, but I did it while pregnant and then while taking care of a baby. I feel very proud– and very relieved.

Two days after graduating I got my first job offer. I can happily say that I am now employed full-time at a great company. The job seems promising and I’m hoping that it’s a job that I can grow with. Maybe it will point me in the direction that I don’t know I’m supposed to take yet.

So what does all of this mean? It means that I’m going absolutely insane! Within three days I graduated, had my first Mother’s Day, and got my first full-time job in an office. These were all good things, but they meant a major lifestyle change. Most importantly, it meant that I would now have to put Mason in daycare.

I know that I have said time and time again that I never wanted to be a stay-at-home mom. And really, I don’t. But it happened that way, and because it did, I spent most of my time revolving my life completely around my son. We had a routine at home, and as monotonous as it would get at times, it still meant that Mason and I spent our days being together. Taking that away all at once has been, to say it simply, difficult.

It turns out that Mason seems to really enjoy daycare so far. Not surprising, since he’s always seemed to be fascinated with other little people. He gets to play, try new foods, and take advantage of what looks like a whole new WORLD of toys. He is, I’m sure, in his glory. I’m very happy that he’s enjoying himself, but it is a little bittersweet. I’m not the person who makes him laugh and meets his needs throughout the day anymore. By the time I pick him up and get him home, we only have about two hours to spend together before he goes to bed. And he’s perfectly fine with that. I’m proud that my son is growing up and gaining independence as well as social skills, but it’s sad to let go of the baby that needed me every minute of the day.

But I can let go, and I will, because that’s part of being a parent. And to make up for the pain that comes from that is the big smile that lights up Mason’s face when he sees me walk in the door of his daycare at the end of the day. It eases a little more when I remember that the reason why I work is not simply for social interaction outside of my home, but to be able to provide for my little family. It feels good to be productive for such a good cause, and me being  a happier mom makes Mason a happier baby.

This is the latest stepping stone I’ve reached in the path toward the life that I ultimately want to have. This one felt impossible to reach at times, and now that I’ve finally gotten here it’s hard to believe that it’s worked out so nicely. It shows me what can come of hard work– what can come of facing hardships head on and turning them into your latest project to work on. This project, successfully mothering/working/going to school/finding a job, is complete now and from where I’m standing, looks pretty beautiful.

Cheers to success, and hopefully more to come!

Mason Meets Frustration

Sorry to my blog readers out there, I know that I’ve been neglecting this blog for a little while now. Life has taken over, and unfortunately seems to sweep me up and run away with me from time to time.

Mason is growing at an astonishing rate. He got his first tooth a few days ago, and is really working hard to sit up on his own. He’s just about 17 pounds now, and talks…and talks, and talks, and talks! Lots of da-da-da and other syllables. He enjoys dancing, being tickled, and playing with his many toys.

All that being said, I’ve been finding his development to be extremely trying lately. He is in the middle of several important milestones: sitting up on his own, trying to find toys (or other things that are certainly NOT toys) that he can’t see, and crawling. While it’s always a little fascinating to watch his steps of learning, it’s difficult to keep patience with a baby who wants so badly to do something and is thoroughly pissed off when he can’t.

The other day Mason fussed for five straight hours. Yes I mean literally, five LONG hours. First it was because he couldn’t find the remote after he was done eating (one example of something that is not a toy). Then it was because he found the remote and I took it away from him. The look on his face was as if he had been starving for two days and I’d taken away his bottle. Next it was because he rolled onto his tummy and couldn’t get to the toy that was a foot away from him. He clawed at the carpet, but to no avail. He wasn’t going anywhere. Me giving him the toy did not appease him– he wanted to do it himself. And next…well, I think you get the point.

So I found myself wanting to rip my hair out. Which is a feeling that I struggle with. It’s hard to get frustrated, or dare I say angry, with a baby. Because no matter what’s been going on, it’s not their fault. I’m not saying that it’s mine either, but it’s certainly not Mason’s. So whose fault is it?

It’s no one’s. And that’s why I struggle with it. There is no one to blame, and sometimes there really isn’t a way to fix it. The workings of a 6-month-old are just something that I have to let be sometimes. Eventually, he will work it out and he’ll learn how to sit up and crawl and all those other fun things. My frustrated emotions are a handful but at least I can understand why they’re there and that they will pass, sooner than I probably think.

So where does that leave my little guy?

Mason continues to develop his emotions every day. By now, he’s probably experienced happy, sad, mad, and the worst of them all, frustrated. Unlike me, however, Mason doesn’t know what will soon pass. He has no concept of change or development. It breaks my heart to think of him feeling like he will NEVER be able to crawl. He doesn’t have the understanding of emotions the way that I do. Distraction is one of  his only comforts, until he finally masters the skills that he has been working so hard on.

So when I get so aggravated that I want to scream, that is what I try to remind myself of. This frustration is only a momentary setback. In a few months from now, I’ll be so busy chasing Mason around while he crawls that I won’t even be thinking of him clawing at the carpet and whining.

And best of all, at least I grasp all of that, and am not left thinking that it will never end. So for now, I suppose all that’s left to do is soothe my little, developing boy the best I can, while he deals with my old friend frustration that he has only just met. I can’t wait to see the joy on his face (and mine!) when all of his fussy determination pays off.

Hello, reality. Where have you been?

Today I was listening to a song on the radio…a song about feeling lost, getting grounded, and the stark reality you face when you’re forced to find yourself again. I became all sorts of emotional, which isn’t so out of the ordinary lately. For some reason, feelings have been flooding through me like some kind of dam broke inside. Maybe it’s my body still regulating hormones…but whatever it is, it’s making me a weepy mess.

This time a year ago I had just found out that I was pregnant. What an unexpected slap in the face that was. I wasn’t sure what to think of it, so I chose to embrace it with everything I had. I’d like to think that I did that because it was the “right” thing to do, but at the time I think it was because I was so scared out of my mind that I had to throw my energy into something, and thankfully it ended up in the place it needed to be.

From then on, my life progressively got better. Pregnancy did something wonderful to me– I was forced to be responsible in ways that I never had been before. Not being responsible now had serious consequences: if I didn’t keep up with medical bills, then Medicaid wouldn’t reimburse them. If I slept through my doctor’s appointment, my baby’s health could be at risk. If I didn’t eat properly, the baby may not grow the way he should. If I didn’t save my money, then I wouldn’t be able to support another person. If I didn’t take time to nurture my relationship with Jon, my son may not be able to grow up with two parents.

Talk about pressure. Thankfully, though, pregnancy and then having a son, did another wonderful thing. It gave me peace.

There was a time in my life, not so long ago, that I didn’t have peace. I was lost…I was drinking too much, procrastinating constantly, letting myself be sucked into a hazy depression that seemed endless at the time. I saw the looming black hole and ran in the opposite direction, first to an internship in Prague, and then into my friends’ arms in Pennsylvania. Things started to get better, and then I met Jon and life really started to look colorful and pretty again.

Mason was the final piece to the puzzle of stability that I worked so hard to put together. He is the stark reality that I had to face when I was finding myself again. I looked that reality right in the eyes, and it was then that I found peace. It was something that I wasn’t in complete control of, and there wasn’t much to do, I thought, except to be okay with it. Reality never tasted so sweet.

I look at him now with such pride. I did that, I think to myself, Jon and I did that. We both have overcome some serious obstacles, and have made conscious decisions that have bettered our lives. I see Mason as a symbol of my decision to live life actively, and my choice to be healthy, aware, and happy.

I’ve found myself again– mirrored in the smiling face of my beautiful son.

kids…they grow like weeds!

Whenever I’ve heard people say, “Kids grow up so fast!” I’ve never believed them. Especially in the first two months after Mason was born. To me, time was going by so slowly. Each day was pretty much the same…the cycles of feeding, sleeping, diaper changing and playing were a little monotonous. Not to say that they were boring, but definitely repetitive. The days seemed to blur together into one big day, and only after a night of very good sleep did it feel like a new day began again. When Mason turned a month old, I felt like he’d been around forever already!

It was just last week that I felt like I’d turned my head away for a second and when I looked back Mason seemed so much older. I was a little taken aback. Where did this vocal, animate baby come from?

My son has learned how to do so many things. He makes all kinds of sounds– and there are different sounds for different moods, toys, and people. He coos at me after he eats, grunts when he gets frustrated, and practically yells when he’s overcome with excitement. He’s trying so hard to laugh, and is such a smiley little guy. This morning I caught him passing his toy from one hand to the other hand. A couple weeks ago he rolled from his tummy to his back, and now is trying desperately (and almost successfully) from his back to his tummy.

We layed in bed today when I was trying to get him down for a nap. Mason wasn’t quite ready to sleep yet, so I was just talking to him. Every time I would speak, he would look at me, pause for a second, and then make a noise back. By the time he quieted down and decided to roll on his side to go to sleep, I felt like I’d had a full-blown conversation. Even though he isn’t saying words, he’s so responsive that it actually feels like he knows what I’m saying sometimes.

How cool is that?

My biggest issue with staying home all day and all night by myself with Mason in the beginning was how lonely it was. The majority of the time he was sleeping, and when he wasn’t he was either crying, eating, or needing to be rocked to sleep. I was either trying to pass time while he slept, or stuck in one spot while he was awake. I felt a little trapped, and the lack of interaction with someone who could respond to me was stifling. I was resentful of being stuck in the house…resentful of being so tired without ever even stepping outside of our apartment.

So it’s really fun for me to take notice now of how much it’s changed since then. I’ve never considered Mason boring…I think when you have a newborn, even if they don’t do much, getting used to them being around is an amazing process in itself. But now, I would say that I DEFINITELY consider him a lot of fun. I really, really enjoy spending the night in with him while Jon is at work. I get to try out different toys and see what else he’s discovered for the day. And now, we can even have conversations even if all they really are is a bunch of nonsense.

The stay-at-home mom gig will never be my thing, I don’t think, but I can say wholeheartedly that I get a lot of joy out of quality time in my home– the same apartment that I used to wish myself out of. All thanks to a kid…he’s growing up so fast!

a letter to my son

Dear Mason,

Ever since I found out that you were conceived, you have consumed my thoughts. I never imagined that I could be so infatuated with someone, even before I’d met them. You are part of every single aspect of my life now, and you have a life all of your own as well. I’ve daydreamed about what it’s like for you– past, future and present.

When you were growing inside of me, I always tried to imagine what you would look like. Would you look like me, or your dad, or would you look like someone else entirely? It felt like you had a personality already…you were so active! Daddy and I would sit on the couch together with our hands on my belly waiting for you to kick, and it was exciting every time you did. At night I would lay in bed and watch my stomach move. What a crazy thought, it was, that you were in there. I was so ready to meet you, and now that I have, you’ve become all the more real and amazing.

Today I saw a commercial on TV for Disneyworld and got lost in my head thinking about all the things I can’t wait for you to do and all the things I want to show you. I want to see your big, brown eyes light up when you meet Mickey Mouse and watch you count down the days to Christmas. I can just picture you getting up super early on a Saturday morning and jumping on my bed to wake me up. I want to take you to the ocean and show you how to ride the waves. Put band-aids on your scraped knees when you learn how to ride a bike. Let you win in a snowball fight. I’ll even learn all the rules to whatever sports you play so that I can actually know what’s happening when I’m cheering you on (but if you want to take dance lessons, that’s okay too! :] ).

But as I was getting caught up in the future earlier, I looked over at you and remembered just how wonderful it is to be in the present. We were laying in bed watching The Colbert Report like we do on weeknights, and you were so infatuated with your hands. I watched you hold them up in front of your face, and then quickly bring them back to your mouth. You threw your arms toward me in an attempt to roll over my way and I thought, how inspiring it is to watch you discover yourself. You know what you like, and definitely what you don’t like. You have different moods, and a whole collection of sounds that you make. Testing out the volumes of those sounds is your latest craze. I’m inspired because you work so hard at all of it, even when you’re frustrated. Maybe you know more than I do about what your Grandma said to me earlier today…if nothing was frustrating, we would have no motivation to move on to the next step.

Keep growing, my little boy. Yes, I think about your future, but there really is nothing else like seeing you move closer to it on a day-to-day basis. Let your smiles abound, and your joy for life stay strong. I’ll be by your side every step of the way, sharing all of that joy with you.

Love, Mommy

babies comparable to tape worms?

In general, I avoid talk radio. I find it annoying and repetitive and would much rather listen to music during my morning commute. However, as I was driving across the bridge the other morning, one of the radio stations I was listening to was having a discussion on pregnancy and it caught my attention.

Apparently some nude pictures of a pregnant Jessica Alba have recently been released. One of the hosts of the show asked the question, are normally beautiful women still able to have the same appeal when they’re pregnant? Listeners were asked to call in to give their opinions. What followed was a little bit shocking to me.

First of all, most of the callers were women who had been pregnant before. The overwhelming response of listeners of that radio station was that no, pregnant women are not attractive. Most of their reasons were because “pregnant women are fat in places they shouldn’t be” and “when you’re pregnant, it’s not appropriate to show off your body, no one wants to see that.”

Perhaps the most shocking response of all came from a woman who said something along the lines of, “There isn’t anything attractive about being pregnant…it’s actually kind of disgusting. I mean, a baby inside of you is really just a parasite. What’s attractive about that?”

Really? A parasite? I think the baby being like a weird alien was mentioned as well by someone else.

When I was pregnant, I didn’t necessarily feel like it was the most beautiful thing in the world. It was harder to do things, and was frustrating at times. I didn’t fit into my clothes, and working as a waitress got harder by the day. I didn’t positively hate pregnancy, but I didn’t exactly love it either. And to be honest, there were times throughout the experience that it felt like there was an alien in me, and definitely times when it felt as if the baby was draining all of my energy.

Despite all of those things, though, I hardly think that I would ever dream of referencing a parasite when talking about my pregnancy.

What I found to be a common theme in these womens’ responses was that they seemed to imply that pregnancy is an unnatural thing. An alien that chose to invade them one day…something they had to painfully endure until the day it ended and produced a baby. As if pregnancy was something that would make them stand out in a crowd in a bad way and that should be covered up as much as possible.

I think that attitude is very sad. Because isn’t it true that pregnancy is probably one of the most natural things that can happen to a woman? Procreation has been going on since the beginning of time, and is the only reason why humans are even still around. So why should pregnancy be anything other than completely acceptable? I’m not saying that every woman should be comfortable with taking nude photos while pregnant– I know I sure wouldn’t have wanted to do that. But what I am saying is that I find it sad that anyone would find their pregnancy to be that abhorrent, or that these women would criticize someone like Jessica Alba for wanting to celebrate her pregnancy instead of stay under the radar for 40 weeks. I don’t think it’s fair to act like a pregnant woman no longer owns her body and the ability to choose what she does with it– it’s still hers, she’s just sharing it with someone else.

Some women may be conservative and there are lots of things about being pregnant that aren’t fun. But that doesn’t mean that pregnant women should be shut away in the house and be considered completely void of physical appeal. The creation of life is something to be admired, so why not make it look good? Wear cute sunglasses or get a new haircut. Make it feel good too, while you’re at it, and splurge on a prenatal massage.

And don’t worry, even though you may be drained every once in a while, your body (so long as your nutrition is on track) naturally provides for your growing baby. Growing a baby is surely exhausting, but it’s certainly nothing like a parasitic tape worm.

turning screams into smiles

For the third time today, my adorable (and normally happy!) little boy turned into a tiny monster– he screamed like nothing I’ve ever seen. There was simply NO consoling him. I’ve dealt with him crying plenty of times, but this was no ordinary cry. He kicked and flailed, changed pitch, and added new sounds to the list I’ve been compiling in my head. Actually, if it hadn’t been so frustrating and heartbreaking to watch him be so uncomfortable, it would have been fascinating to listen to the all the new additions to his vocal capabilities. I think that he may be teething, as he’s been drooling incessantly, and maybe that is the source of his relatively short-lived unhappiness.

Anyway, I decided that in order to distract myself from the headache I’ve acquired from the tantrum-like behavior, I would write about something completely opposite– smiles.

Mason learned how to smile a little over a month ago, and it’s been such a joy to watch him use his cute little mouth to express good feelings. Finally, some form of communication that is not crying or lip-smacking! Now he can tell me when I’m doing something right…and what a relief that is. It’s like he’s saying, “Yes Mom, I really do enjoy your company.” Very validating.

So many things invoke this wide grin for my son. Bright colors, swinging toys, a pretty pattern on my shirt. Playing with Daddy, seeing the cat sneeze, getting raspberries on his belly. Mason smiles at simple things, and actually, complicated play tends to confuse him instead of please him. He just smiles when he sees something that happens to look good to him at whatever time of day it is– simple as that.

I find it amazing just how simply babies live, how little it takes to get their attention, and how the most unexpected things can keep them entertained. Mason doesn’t need me to plan any elaborate activities for him to be impressed. In fact, I can just hold a rattle in front of his face for a half hour and let him experiment with grabbing it for him to be satisfied. Babies live in the moment.

They smile when they see something that happens to look good.

I’ve been running on pretty close to empty lately. There is so much to be done between taking care of Mason, school, and work. That time of the semester is approaching when absolutely everything is due, and I’m still getting into the swing of things again at work. Mason is a full-time job all by himself. This, while full of a lot of joy, is probably the most stressful period of time I’ve ever had in my life. I didn’t expect to do things in this order…I didn’t plan to have a baby while still a full-time student that has to work. But it’s working out and it’s really not impossible, just stressful. I get frustrated, and I get tired. Really tired.

So, in turn, sometimes I forget to smile. I get so busy with all of the craziness in my life that I barely remember the little things that used to light up my days. My head is so far in the future that I fail to drink in the moment, and I want that to change. I’m never going to be a perfect mom (who is?), but I can definitely be a happy one.

If Mason can smile at the little things, then so can I, right? Even if I have to look a little harder for them, or make them up entirely by myself.

Tonight I think I’ll make cupcakes. I’ll beat the batter until my arm hurts and bake them until they’re the exact golden brown that I like. I’ll cut one in half and ice both parts. Hey, maybe I’ll even have two. Tomorrow, I’ll use cinnamon in my morning coffee. The next day, I’ll sleep in an extra hour. And the next day…well, you get the picture.

My life as a “Mom, etc.” isn’t simple and it never will be. Unfortunately, as Mason will one day realize, babies grow up and they are not so easily satisfied. But as adults, we have the ability to create the simple things and cut-and-paste them into our everyday lives, so that we can smile just as easily. And that’s precisely what I intend to do.

the end of the road may be in sight, but we’re not there yet

Life has been so busy lately…Mason, school, and now I’m back to work too. I feel like I barely have time to think, let alone write a blog post. But it’s the weekend, and I remembered my promise to myself that I would keep up with this blog. Luckily, one of my classes brought me some inspiration this morning.

This semester I decided to take Women in American History, as I don’t have any degree-required courses left to take and it sounded interesting. On the first day my professor walked in and I immediately thought the class was going to be terribly boring because of how old she was. But I ended up chiding myself later for judging her so quickly…she is actually very quirky and entertaining. I fell in love with her personality when she informed us that she owned several cats and played an assortment of mountain instruments. So I was excited when she told us that we would be watching a movie today, as I was sure that it was going to capture my attention.

Boy, did it ever! The film is called Iron Jawed Angels, and it’s about women fighting for an amendment to the Constitution granting women the right to vote. These ladies had such a passion for what they were doing, and no wonder…to enfranchise women was to give them a voice in the society that they already played such a large role in.

I think that sometimes feminists are subject to a bad stereotype. They are often viewed as “spinsters,” as women who hate men, the institution of marriage, and who never want to have a family because they are so fiercely independent. They are called masculine and are written off as bitter and angry.

This movie pointed out to me that it’s important to remember who the forerunners of the Womens’ Movement were: plain old everyday women, many of them mothers. Elizabeth Cady Stanton, who played a large part in writing the Declaration of Sentiments and Resolutions, was a mother of seven. It is believed that she and her best friend, and fellow womens’ rights activist, Susan B. Anthony, took turns feeding and caring for her children while they worked on campaigns and writings for the movement. In fact, mothers may have had the biggest reason of all for caring about being heard– they wanted the rights to their children. Believe it or not, the time when mothers were not considered mentally capable of being parents who taught their children lessons and guided them through life isn’t that far in the past.

Thankfully, ideas have changed since those times, and women tend to be viewed in a much better light. The movie was still inspiring, though, and made me view my role as a woman and as a mother differently. The progress we’ve made is quite significant, but we still aren’t quite at the top of the mountain yet. I mean, women still to this day aren’t paid equally for doing the same job as men (I believe it is 80-something cents to the dollar). Feminists remain scorned and wrongly stereotyped in many public arenas. Women hit glass ceilings left and right, in many areas of life. The fight isn’t over.

I believe that it is our duty to women like Elizabeth Cady Stanton who fought so hard for suffrage and equality, during a time when it was completely inappropriate to do so, to keep on pushing for more. Don’t we also owe it to ourselves? There is more to be gained, and I think that women throughout history, right on into contemporary times, have shown themselves more than worthy of the same respect given to any man. I believe that it is our duty as mothers to teach our children the benefits of a more equal world– to educate our sons to embrace respectful attitudes toward girls, and to instill ideas of self-worth in our daughters. There are conflicting messages all around us in this mass-media society, but if we raise our children in a home that places equal value in both boys and girls, we have a chance to strike down the old-fashioned conventions.

Mothers (I suppose I mean parents in general) are granted the privilege of direct access to today’s youth, and a good shot at influencing the way that they will perceive the relationship between men and women. We have voices…let’s use them!

dad can push a stroller, too!

I recently read an article in Mothering magazine written by a new dad. He was talking about the attention that he gets when he goes out alone with his baby. People stare, and comment on what a wonderful dad he is to be taking out a baby all by himself. There were oohs and ahs over what a “cute daddy” he was…and then when his wife met up with him later, attention from passersby immediately shifted solely towards the baby.

He brought up another interesting thing: when his wife is out alone with their baby, she doesn’t get comments on how wonderful it is that she can take a baby on an outing by herself. She gets a lot of compliments on her beautiful child, but not the same oohs and ahs about her mothering as he does about his fathering.

That story really got me to thinking. And I realized that I do the same thing– when I see a dad out with his kid or kids, it always makes me smile. I think to myself, “What a great dad! His kids must really love that kind of time with him,” as if it’s something unusual. Yet I see mothers with their children all the time and, I’ll be honest, while it’s nice, it doesn’t necessarily cause me to smile out of the blue.

It’s sort of sad, really. A blog entry I read brought to light a good point…this kind of gushing over dads being able to take care of their children is demeaning in a way, to the dads. I think that although society has accepted that both parents are capable of taking care of children, it still seems to expect dads to fall short somehow. And when they don’t, it’s treated as some kind of marvel.

Jon has done anything but fall short when it comes to parenting. He changes diapers, does bottle feedings, plays with Mason (sometimes more effectively than me, I might add!), and soothes him when he’s upset. He knows Mason’s bedtime routine, and legitimately enjoys giving him baths. Jon is active in almost every single way that I am in being a parent to Mason, and he has to be because I’m not always around. These aren’t things he does as a favor to me, or to “go above and beyond” — he does them because he is Mason’s dad. I think that if I didn’t expect anything from him at all and marveled at the things he did do, it would be condescending and offensive. I mean, hey, if he treated all of my mothering skills as some sort of big surprise, as if he never thought I would be able to do them, I would be offended too!

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think that dads shouldn’t be complimented. It’s just that I think they shouldn’t be expected to be ignorant to parenting skills, in the same way that I don’t think mothers should be expected to know everything about babies. The role of Dad is an evolving one, and I think the ideas behind what a father should be are something a lot different than what they used to be.

 Yes, deadbeat dads (and deadbeat moms, too) or dads that remain uninvolved will always exist, but there is a recognizable new “Dad” out there now who deserves to be treated with the same respect as all of us Moms…and he’s anything but clueless!