Lyla Cicero is the odd woman out in her mothers’ group because her husband is not only a supportive father, he’s an excellent husband. So why does she feel the need to hide it?
This article originally appeared at Role/Reboot.
The first time it happened, I was at a Mothers of Multiples Club welcome brunch. My fantasy was that my terror at the impending birth of my twins would dissipate as soon as I met the wise kindred spirits who would be guiding me through the transition to multiple-motherhood. Much to my surprise, however, brunch soon descended into a husband-bashing session, replete with the kind of ominous warnings I would receive over and over during my pregnancy.
“Make sure you leave the house when they’re a few months old. I waited three years to leave my kids alone with my husband, and now he refuses to babysit,” one mom insisted. My initial response was confusion. I was planning to leave the house the first week. I had written my doctoral dissertation on equally shared parenting for frig’s sake! Caught totally off guard, I responded, “That’s not going to be a problem for me.” Several of the women chuckled sweetly, shooting me the pitying “you’ll see” glance I would receive time and time again.
What was this strange land I was entering? These were smart, accomplished moms—some working, some stay-at-home—all of whom swore that when kids came into the picture, roles changed overnight. Were the brilliant, creative, feminist women I’d known in college really now accepting such arrangements? My twin terror was quickly compounded by the fear of losing the egalitarian marriage I so valued.
Well, 14 months into motherhood my marriage is as egalitarian as ever. However, the “our husbands suck and don’t do anything” motif turned out to be rampant at the mommy meet-ups and play-dates that were supposed to help maintain my sanity during the first year with infant twins. Now don’t get me wrong, my husband can be an ass. Then again, so can I. But the truth is—(hushed whisper) I like my husband. He is a fantastic husband. No one has the perfect marriage, but it was the gendered aspects of the husband-bashing which eluded me most—husbands not “helping” around the house, never “watching the kids,” oblivious to routines and childcare tasks.
Despite my relief that my own marriage hadn’t followed this path, my own parenting experience felt utterly erased during these conversations. I would feel like a total asshole if I sat there repeating, “My husband does do that,” and adding obnoxiously, “My husband cleans more than I do.” So instead I just passed, keeping my identity practicing equally shared parenting hidden. I was also a queer mom passing as straight at these gatherings, but amazingly, stating, “My husband taught me how to swaddle,” or “Sometimes Seth is more comfortable with our kids than I am,” felt more threatening than announcing I was queer.
When I really examined my fear, I realized it felt like I would be “coming out” as a bad mom. Had we somehow gotten the message that fairness and equality were OK for us to enjoy in our marriages but to be good mothers, we had to be the ones drastically rearranging our lives to make room for children? If my husband was parenting as well as me, must I not be parenting well at all?
I desperately want to be accepted by my peers. After all, this mothering thing is hard, and I am going to need them. Then again, am I really even there if I just hide out at playgroups, nod and pass, not only as straight, but as June Cleaver? And the truth is husband-bashing isn’t the kind of support that I need anyway. What about adult stimulation? What about moms who can talk politics, who are activists? What about discussing how the hell we are going to give our kids the space to explore flexible gender identities and orientations toward love and sex while media and culture steer them onto narrow, limiting paths? What about the massive, profound transition that is becoming a mother? Let’s talk about the guilt, the ecstasy, the terror, trying to find balance, trying to hold on to ourselves. Some moms I’ve met seem so burdened with the lion’s share of childcare that they’ve had to lose the rest of themselves to manage it. Is this the culturally-accepted ideal of motherhood? No selves allowed?
I’m still trying to work out why my husband and I never walked through that time warp back to the 1950s that all those couples who “swore it wouldn’t happen to them” walked through. I ask myself if these women complaining about their male partners’ traditional responses to parenting were themselves willing to be flexible in their own gender roles. As long as we have the attitude that we can do it better, men probably won’t step up, because what man enjoys feeling incompetent?
That mom who didn’t leave the children with her husband for three years obviously didn’t see him as a competent caretaker, but now seems bitter that he’s not one. We have to believe men can care for children and manage homes, just as we believe we can run companies and nations, rather than expect them to “help” while we maintain control over the private domain. How would we react to that kind of attitude toward our work in the public sphere? Imagine men expecting to supervise and micromanage our works as CEOs?
So why are moms so hesitant to view their male partners as full, competent parents? Is it just that hard to picture? I don’t think so. I think it’s because deep down there is a part of us that believes if we demand equal parenting, if we demand holding onto ourselves—as our husbands do when children come into the picture—then we are not good mothers. I can understand this fear. When I really sit and think about it, I have it, too. When I work, when I take time to write, when I keep up with friends, go out with other adults, and spend time fantasizing about things I’m passionate about, there is always this little nagging feeling that a “good mom” would have let go of these things.
I’ve held onto my egalitarian marriage and my sense of self, but I haven’t managed to not beat myself up about it. So my husband has all the parenting skills and responsibility I do, but I still look at him and he seems unburdened, free of the guilt and self-doubt that plagues me. If he can be a full person and also believe he is a good parent, why can’t I be out and proud as an egalitarian mother?
Lyla Cicero has a doctorate in clinical psychology, and focuses on relationships, sexual minorities, and sex therapy. Lyla is a feminist, LGBTQIAPK-affirmative, sex-positive blogger at UnderCoverintheSuburbs.com, where she writes about expanding cultural notions of identity, especially those surrounding gender, sexual orientation, motherhood, and sexuality. Follow her on Twitter @UndrCvrNSuburbs.
Photo credit: Flickr / An en Alain
There was news awhile back that the more men help with the children the less competent the mom feels. Here is an article: http://chronicle.com/blogs/percolator/the-problem-with-good-dads/22032 . The Journal article referenced there is “The supermom trap: Do involved dads erode moms’ self-competence?,” published.” In your opinion how accurate is that article? Your article seemed to agree somewhat with this point of view.
What this article and the one you reference tells me is that men can’t win. If we don’t help we are vilified for being lazy baggage and if we do help then we are eroding the confidence of our mates. What it adds up to to me is mean, nasty, misandry, a term rarely heard but frequently practiced.
The underlying problem I am trying to get at is societal pressure on mothers to be selfless and ultra-focused on parenting. I believe this pressure had the side effect of undermining male parental participation because women are made to feel like bad mothers if they equal parent, have outside interests, don’t make parenting the singular or major focus of their lives, etc. So yes, I could see how father involvement might erode women’s self-confidence, but that is because we live in a society where to be a good mother, you are supposed to be better than your partner, better than… Read more »
Regardless of what your friends might say about their husbands, if you had courage, you would be shouting your husband’s praises from the mountaintop.
What motivation does a man have if his contributions are not recognized and in fact made fun of by his male peers while his own wife remains silent in the face of attacks on other husbands (maybe deservedly) rendering him guilty by gender associaton and silent omission. You remind me of the story of Peter in the New Testament when he denied knowing Jesus three times before the cock crowed twice. Cock a doodle doo!!!
Wow “courage” those are strong words. We all have moment when we are silence ourselves in order to avoid transgressing cultural norms. But I agree with you, it would be better for me to speak up, and that is what I’m doing now. I think what the post was trying to say was I had to understand WHY I was censoring myself – it was because I was questioning my own mothering. I had internalized a cultural idea that if I wasn’t the main parent, I wasn’t good enough as a mother. Once I realized that, I could free myself… Read more »
Food for Thought:
You stated that you didn’t feel comfortable speaking up that your husband did his fair share of the work. Have you considered that perhaps a large group of these women were just like but except you kept silent and they decided to engrain themselves further into the group by actively taking part in the husband bashing. Perhaps their husband were just like yours but felt peer pressure to be just like everyone else even though everyone else was lying too.
Just saying.
I suppose that’s possible, although it’s really taking it a step further to make up elaborate stories about things that went on in your home than to simply remain silent. I agree with you though, I should absolutely speak up. This piece was one of the things I did to help me work through why I wasn’t, because it’s unlike me. I’m a very opinionated person, and used to having opinions others don’t agree with. It just struck me how strong the societal pressure for mothers to be the selfless one in the home that it was that hard for… Read more »
Lyla, A good mom knows herself. A good mom is assertive, and pursues her own interests while keeping in mind the needs of her family. How does a mom teach her kids to follow their dreams, or encourage them to find out who they are and what they want out of life, if their mother has no dreams or interests of her own? Kids learn from what their parents are, not from what they say. By maintaining your own personality and interests, you are teaching your kids to have higher expectations for themselves, and that is nothing to feel guilty… Read more »
Donna, thanks so much, I completely agree. I have been stunned at how hard it is to keep all the things I know in mind when a lot of the cultural demands around mothering seem to say otherwise. Thanks for your encouraging words!
Honey, you and I need to start our own mama’s group. I’m a queer, activist, political-talking mama to a two-year-old girl, and I really need some stimulating adult conversation. Of course, six months ago I would’ve been just as happy to man-bash, but since then I’ve worked out the root of some of those problems, left my daughter’s father, and left most of those problems in the past. I think the problem of parenting equality comes just as much from a mother not wanting to give up control as it does from a father’s lack of will to help. I… Read more »
Hi Desiree, I’m always happy to meet other like-minded moms. Have you found it hard to meet other moms who are on the same wavelength?
“So why are moms so hesitant to view their male partners as full, competent parents?” Most aren’t, in my experience. Perhaps there is something unusual in the thinkking of that particular collection of mothers. I know hundreds of mothers, personal friends, and none of them are “hesitant to view their male partners as full, competent parent.” but neither do they believe that each must do exactly what the other does completely, as if mothers and fathers are interchangable. They don’t have a 50/50 calculator to make sure that he changes 50% of the diapers, for example. (Perhaps that sort of… Read more »
Eric, I agree, shared parenting isn’t about doing the exact same tasks the exact same amount of time. In my dissertation I defined it as dividing/organizing childcare tasks based on criteria other than gender. You must have a progressive group of family and friends! There’s also the possibility that the women in your life are less likely to gripe in the presence of males – just sayin!
We and most of them are quite traditional, with roles in the family. I just want to point out that it is a myth that traditional fathers don’t care for children. We just don’t stay at home all day necessarily while our wives work, although many do work. I work full time while my wife stayed(s) home, but I still changed every overnight diaper, gave every bath, did some (not a lot) of cooking, did/do 100% of the outside play and much of the inside play, most of the cleaning, some of the shopping, ½ of the homework helping, and… Read more »