Ah come on! You all know it is Mommy.
Google “Songs about parents.” For every song about fathers, there are ten about mothers. We rule!
As the old saying goes, "The hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world."
Not that we are better parents than men. We just parent differently than men do.
Men on the other hand will live a lot longer than us because they don't stress about the little things like we do. Men know how to relax.
I am standing at the kitchen counter making lunches for the next day, making sure everything is in the backpack for camp and hubby is sitting in the TV room in the recliner flipping between golf and race car driving.
He yells out, "Do you need any help?"
"Yes" I yell back.
"What do you want me to do?" Ok so now I have to make a list... it's easier to just do it myself.
"Empty the garbage in the kitchen", I tell him.
"Ok" then I wait five minutes. No sign of movement. I poke my head into the TV room "Are you going to empty the garbage?"
"Yes, right after this ends" and that's how you press my anger/frustration button which plays all the curse words I know.
Women need it done now! Men need it done "Right after this ends."
We adjusted our work shifts when the kids were younger to accommodate their school day. I worked from 7 AM - 3 PM so I could be there when my son got home from school to get homework done with him before my two year old daughter came home to interrupt and supper.
Hubby worked from 9 AM - 5 PM so he could get the kids up, fed, washed and dropped off at day care and school on time and he picks our daughter up on the way home. He handled the kids better in the morning and could get them out without fighting and I could handle them better in the afternoon because I didn't lose my temper over homework. It worked out great and alleviated all the fighting about homework with a tired child and ensured we ate home cooked meals instead of fast food. I was more than impressed with my husband's efforts especially when it came to doing our daughter's hair.
At two, her head was a mass of long curly locks that took forever to come out and was the cause of many a tantrum. If she saw me even walk past with a brush she would run from the room screaming. Somehow he was able to tame her wild locks and get her to sit still for pig tails, pony talks, plaits, even a French braid. I was more than impressed, I was jealous! I couldn't do a French braid!
One week hubby had to go out of town on business and I did both the morning and the afternoon shift. I dreaded the thought of mornings. My daughter was not a morning person and I knew we were going to fight about those curly locks. Then just as I had predicted she saw me coming with the brush and the place went up. An hour later I dragged her into day care. She was still sniffling from the morning cry and I looked like Alice Cooper with my mascara dripping down my face. I took her coat off and brought her into the play room.
Sheila, her teacher greeted us. She put her hand out and asked "Where's the bag?" "Oh Jeez," I thought "I forgot something." "I am so frazzled today. What did I forget?" I asked. "Her hair clips" "What clips?" I asked. Then she filled me in on hubby's dirty little secret, "Your husband can't do her hair so he brings me a bag of clips and elastics every morning and I do her hair. I make her believe we are playing princess."
When hubby got home a few days later I asked him, "Show me how to do a French braid? I really want to learn." "No" he says, "I don't want to go at her hair now. She gets upset." "Really," I pressed "Then do it to my hair." "It wouldn't look good on you," he says. "You're busted buddy! Sheila told me this morning that she does her hair!" The jig was up.
I wasn't mad, I was still impressed. Rather than start each day out with a fight, he found a way that let both of them have a good day. I would have pinned her to the floor and stapled bows in her head.
So who do you love more? I guess kids love their parents in different ways. It’s not a competition… but they do love their Mother more than anyone else. Just saying.