The invisible burden

“You’re such a good dad.”

My husband thanked the women in front of us at Target as he continued to load school supplies in the checkout line. As soon as she returned to paying for her purchases, he snuck a quick smirk at me as I rolled my eyes.

After nearly 10 years of being parents, I’m used to witnessing or hearing praise heaped on my husband for being an active participant in parenting. Even when he worked shifts and I was single parenting two toddlers 7 out of every 14 days while working full time, I don’t recall ever having strangers compliment or support me as I accomplished basic tasks of raising children.

For mothers, it’s just expected.

I try not to take it personally. I know we’re not even a generation removed from when dads refused to change diapers. But I can’t help but feel a pang of hurt knowing that working moms don’t get Brownie points in any part of our lives.

We’re expected to show up fully at work, prioritize the business, and do our jobs.

We’re expected to be fully present at home, taking the lead on raising the children and keeping up a household.

Here’s the thing – my husband IS a good dad. He’s a great dad actually.
But not for school supply shopping, dropping off the kids, or putting the kids to bed. He anticipates the boys’ needs. He knows exactly what clothing and shoe size they are at any given moment. He picks up little toys and gifts he thinks they might like. He’s willing to do anything to help our family, even typically gendered tasks like laundry (he does all of it) and cooking (usually at least 3x per week). He’s always thinking about them, about us, and prioritizing our well-being as a family, even at times to the detriment of his own.

But sometimes it feels like the balance is out of balance simply because as a working mom, I’m expected to do it all. And not doing it all doesn’t always feel like equity – it feels slightly like laziness on my part.

Because I should be able to do it all, right? At least that’s the internalized narrative that whispers from the recesses of my unconscious mind and drives the heaviness in my chest.

That somehow having a fully active partner in our lives reflects my inability to do it at all.

Then I remind myself – my ambition and drive aren’t character flaws. And I let gratitude creep in. I have a partner that’s willing to be in the trenches in our two-parent-working household fully in and committed.

That as parents, one person wasn’t meant to do it all.

So yes, random woman at Target, my husband is a good dad. But for a million reasons you don't see.

And I’m a good mom, too.

Even though I work outside the home and travel for my job at times.

Even though I don’t do all the laundry, the dishes, the cooking, and cleaning.

We're in this together, even when it's just back-to-school shopping.