The Rant Boat Maiden Voyage – Guest Starring Shawna in…Off The Pedestal!

I can hardly believe people actually want to sail on The Rant Boat (my own personal take on The Love Boat) as my Special Guest Stars, mostly because unlike Aaron Spelling, I cannot offer them cash or even a reasonably decent shot at bigger roles down the road.

However, Shawna was my very first volunteer, and she has generously provided this rant about husbands, wives, gender disparity in parenting…oh, hell. Just read it. It’s funny and she’s right. Read on, please leave her a comment here,  and then pay her a visit at her own blog, A Lil’ Bit Squishy, because she is freaking wonderful.  So without further ado, here’s Shawna in Off The Pedestal!

I am one of the luckiest girls in the world.  I have an amazing husband.  Truly amazing.  And this post is still going to trash him but what you first must understand is that it really has nothing to do with him and everything to do with our society.  Everything.

I am sick of my husband’s pedestal.  Sick to death of it.  Tired of hearing how great he is and how lucky I am.  But before I explain why, you, dear reader, need a little background information.  My husband and I both work.  He is working a full time day job.  I am working a halftime shift job.  Our children are not in daycare.  We have a neighbour who occasionally helps us out on days when our schedules overlap or on the odd occasion when we would like to do something like buy Christmas presents or catch a movie without kids in tow.  By occasionally, I mean for less than four hours twice a month.  We’ve arranged our schedules so that we can raise our children.  In my six week rotation we have two full days off together.  But we have a lot of evenings together on the days when Steve works and I don’t so we have time together for us too. 

By nature I am a night person, he a morning person.  Throw in my shift work and breastfeeding babies that did not sleep through the night until after their first birthdays and I am not the most functional person first thing in the morning.  At our house, I get the night shift, up with whichever child needs a parent, whenever they need a parent, except for the five nights in six weeks when I am at work.  At our house, Steve prepares breakfast.  Sometimes he cooks but mostly he just makes toast or pours cereal.  It is his time with the kids and it is the time of day when I get the most solid sleep, knowing that I don’t have to listen, don’t have to be half awake just in case someone needs me.

I am responsible for lunch most days and dinner most days.  Except when I am working the day shifts or when Steve and the kids have gone out of town.  I work five day shifts in six weeks, so Steve is responsible for lunch and dinner about once a week.

I do all of the laundry, including ironing and starching his work clothes.  I keep the house clean, wash tables, floors, dishes, vacuum, dust, etc.  It all falls to me.  Except the bathroom which has become a shared responsibility, just because I hate scrubbing tubs enough that I will sometimes ask him to do it, which he does willingly and lovingly.

We share care of washing and maintaining our vehicles and even gassing them up.  Only one of our vehicles is big enough to fit all of our children and so we trade often.  Whoever has the kids; has the van.  Whoever has time to wash, washes.  Whoever has the vehicle when it needs gas is responsible to make sure it happens.

Steve mows the lawn.  Simply because I can’t do it.  I have tried two times in my life and both times ended up not functional for the day following because of severe allergic reaction so I stay away from grass like a diabetic person should stay away from dessert or a hypertensive person should stay away from salt.  Because I am responsible for my own well-being.  Of course, he doesn’t mow it as often as I would like but because I can’t do it, I also feel like I can’t mention it.

I pay the bills.  I register the kids for soccer and swimming and music classes.  I am mostly responsible for helping with homework and piano practice. But Steve attends to those activities on the days when I am working and he’s always around to help bath, read stories and put the kids to bed.

I go to book club while he is home with the kids; he goes for beers with the guys when I am home with the kids.  We’ve both gone to movies by ourselves.  Both of us being comfortable in our own skin, we like this arrangement.

Sounds great right?  And it is.   It is one of the most functional relationships in the world and still a bit lopsided.  Still more of the childrearing, booboo kissing, cleaning, organizing, photo taking, sideline cheering falls to me.  So here is my complaint:  I am tired of hearing how great my husband is.  And tired of hearing how lucky I am.  What about me, aren’t I great too?  Isn’t he lucky too?   What about our children? Aren’t they great too?  Aren’t we lucky too?  The thing is: it’s not about our family.  We work hard.  Together.  To make things work so well, so smoothly.  We (plural) are great.  I am sad that the pedestal that people (my mom included) put my husband up on have done it because COMPARED TO OTHER MEN he is a rock star.  How sad is that?  How sad is it that it is acceptable for families to live any other way?  That it is acceptable for a husband not to participate in childrearing, that it is acceptable for a wife not to learn how to turn a wrench?

It’s not to say that things should be equal.  After all, no matter how hard a man tries, he’ll likely never breastfeed or child bear.  And though we claim to have equality in North America it is still uncommon for a woman to consistently earn more money than a man.  And if a family chooses to be in more traditional roles with the husband working, and the wife parenting, cooking, cleaning, shopping, then so be it, but don’t tell me how lucky I am.  And don’t for a second suggest that I am shirking my responsibilities as a mother and a woman because my husband shares the childrearing and the cooking because I am working too.  And because I have never claimed to be a super mom.  I don’t want that title.  Not now, not ever.  I don’t want to give up the quality of life that we have AS A FAMILY for some ideal that our society is attempting to force on me.  Unacceptable. 

My husband is great.  He is a great man, a great father and a great husband.  But I am also a great woman, a great mother, and a great wife.  Together with our children we are a great family.  That’s how it works.  That’s how it should work.  Stop being surprised by it and stand up for it in your own lives!!