For Mothers’ Day, my husband surprised me with an old fashioned brunch at one of those fancy country club-like places you see in the movies: white linen tablecloths, fresh flowers, silver chafing dishes brimming with food, and plenty of champagne. At the end of the meal —frankly, not wanting it to end— I asked whether we could possibly do it again for Fathers’ Day? My husband thought that was a dandy idea, so we asked the maitre d’ (or whoever the spiffily dressed person at the front desk was) for a Fathers’ Day reservation. He looked at my husband rather confused and announced that they didn’t have anything planned for Fathers’ Day.
Oh. Wait. Yes they did: A special on golf.
My husband doesn’t golf, but he does like to eat, so he was rather offended. We left wondering why moms get a meal but dads get the shaft.
After mulling it over for a bit, I came to the conclusion that it’s because we just don’t know what to do with dads, or, for that matter, fatherhood in general.
Study after study has demonstrated that kids do better in homes in which a father is present. This statement is not meant to denigrate single mothers—my maternal grandmother was a single mother and she did a damn fine job. Rather, I simply mean to point out that, when fathers are present, they do make a positive difference in their children’s lives. Yet we continue to relegate dads to backseat parenting —that is, if we assume they can parent at all.
The media is filled with images of hapless dads, the kinds of guys you wouldn’t ask to water your plants, much less watch your kids. What kind of message does this send to men? That they’re uninformed, unimportant, and unnecessary when it comes to raising kids?
And what about Fathers’ Day? From what I can tell, it seems to be about leaving dad alone to golf, fish, or just get away from the brood that bestowed the title but drives him bats.
In a country in which more than two million men are single fathers, and more than 140,000 identify themselves as stay-at-home dads, the media and society’s treatment of fathers is outdated at best, offensive at worst.
By and large, men today want to play a greater role in the raising of their kids. (Yes, there are some who are deadbeats, and others who are downright dangerous, but they are the exception and not the rule.) Guys who want to step up to the parenting plate should be welcomed with open arms. And those who don’t should be encouraged, pushed and prodded. It’s where they belong, after all.
Like it or not, we moms play a huge role in this. Too often, we declare ourselves supreme parent and assume the mantle of all that is childrearing. We have this notion that nobody can do this kid-gig better than we can and by God we’re not going to let ’em either.
I am so guilty of this. And you know what? It’s exhausting. Not to mention completely stupid. Just the other day, I wasted 15-minutes of my life explaining to my husband the precise way to make macaroni and cheese — from a box. The guy has a Ph.D., for crying out loud. And even if he didn’t, what does it matter? If he wants to make it with apple juice and ketchup, who cares? The kids will still get fed.
The point here is that men do things differently than we women—including parenting. So what if they let the kids eat ice cream before dinner (my dad) or go skateboarding at age three (my husband)? How many of our best memories stem for the crazy things our dads did with us?
The key is allowing men to parent. This means stepping back so they can step forward. It means placing fatherhood on an equal pedestal with motherhood and holding men up to the same high expectations. It means rejecting a culture that not-so-subtly tells men they’re bad parents.
Yes, it might also mean biting your tongue and acquiring nerves of steel and a stomach to match. But that’s a small price to pay for having men as equal partners in this thing we call parenthood. I can’t help but think our kids will thank all of us for it.
My husband may not get brunch at a fancy club this Father’ Day, but he prefers mac ’n cheese served up by the kids (with ketchup and apple juice) anyway. And for that, I —and my children— are profoundly lucky.
Happy Fathers’ Day all of you wonderful daddies!
(Especially you, Brian)
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