Just like the boy/girl or man/woman double standard.
Anthropologists and sociologist will say that it's a learned behavior but I beg to differ.
The Mother/Father double standard is real.
As evidenced by my Sunday.
Yesterday, I did the unthinkable, the unimaginable.
I set out to take a nap, on the couch while children and Hubbs were in the living room. The hubbs was watching TV, and the kiddos were playing with whatever they had dragged out of their rooms. For whatever reason (caffeine hangover), I was exhausted. Like struggling to keep my eyes open, so I looked at the hubbs and said, "Wake me in 20 minutes".
Caitlin played beauty shop on my exposed head. Mackenzie asked me for a drink twice. And my final wake up call in the span of let's say 15 minutes was Mac sneezing in my face. Now, I know what you are thinking. Dad must have been out. Doing yard work, or washing the car. No. Oh, no. Dad was sitting less than a foot away in the recliner, switching between the Daytona 500 and How it's Made. I guess to the children that I bore, that made him invisible.
So I got up. Complained, uttered some choice words (that were prefaced with "mother") under my breath, and started the laundry. I will admit openly that I was mad. Furious even. First because why do I even tease myself with the idea of a nap, but secondly, because my husband has been know to nap in the recliner, uninterrupted while the kids ensue chaos on the world otherwise known as our living room.
They don't bother him in that recliner.
Not one bit.
Not to ask for a drink,
Not to ask for a snack.
Not to sneeze in his face.
Which got me thinking.
What the hell is it with this Mother/Father Double Standard?
The Hubbs can up and leave the house, anytime of day or night, and the kiddos wave bye like it's just par for the course. Yesterday, I declared that I was going to the grocery store. Insert 10 minutes of whining and squawking, followed by wardrobe changes for two princesses who hadn't had their hair combed since Saturday afternoon. Seriously, the husband can kiss them goodbye and they are as cool as cucumbers. I put on shoes and they think I'm moving to Alaska. Don't even ask me what happens when they notice I'm wearing mascara, or have done my eyebrows.
I've also noticed that it doesn't matter what I'm doing, the kids identify me as the only "capable" parent in this house. I'm not saying that the hubbs isn't capable, he is, sometimes better than I, but the kids act like he's not even here. I can't tell you how many times I've been unloading groceries, been in the middle of making dinner (with chicken hands!), or say changing a dirty diaper, and someone is asking me for a drink, a snack, or to put her Barbies shoes back on. All while the hubbs is just feet away, sitting there like one of the 275 toys in the living room. Uh, hello, I'm not the only parent here, correct?
The Mother/Father double standard in a cramp in my ass. I try to remind my girls that Daddy is a very capable parent, made obvious by his outside the home job. I've also reminded them that they can ask Daddy for drinks, snacks, and American Doll wardrobe changes. But with all the reminding in the world, I'm still yelling from the sink that's full of dishes, "can you please get these kids XYZ before this knife I'm washing goes rogue on your behind".
So, yes. I'm on a slight tirade because I didn't get a nap yesterday, but seriously, this has to be happening in other homes. Please tell me I'm not the only one. I love these kiddos, I really do, but sometimes, I want to share the work load. I know for a fact that I'm not the only adult in this house that can get a sippy of juice, microwave chicken nuggets, or dress a Barbie. I know. I've seen it.
So why do my kids rarely call on their dad to do things?