This past holiday weekend, Rachel, Eliza, and I each took turns being sick. Fortunately, Rachel’s stomach bug and my stomach bug did not have us both out at the same time.
Saturday, the day I really started feeling myself again, I learned that my self was more sexist than I thought. Rachel was down all day. This means I had Eliza. She and I did the weekly grocery shopping and a couple other errands. We finished the day off with her tubby time (which she loves, but which Rachel and I almost always handle together) and milk, stories, and bed.
As I walked out of her room having put her in her bed, I felt like I deserved a medal for handling her all day by myself. Almost immediately, I realized that a lot of parents, especially moms, do all this every day.
I got over my little pity-party pretty quickly, but I am still pondering the depth of it all: I believe it is fairly normal (correct me, guys, if I am wrong) for dads not to feel quite as connected to and thus hands-on responsible for our children as women. I think this is, to some extent, a wiring thing; a Mars-Venus difference, if you will.
I have never been a dad to shirk his share of parental responsibility, so when I realized what I was thinking and feeling, it really caught me off guard.
This morning I salute all you parents, especially you single parents, who work so hard for your children day in and day out.