Dear Honey,
When we got married over a decade ago, our vows included sickness and health. They did not include a worldwide virus outbreak that has us going on four months of being together 24/7 under one roof. Our marriage vows didn’t include us becoming remote learning specialists nor did they include us being full-time chefs, maids, therapists, entertainers, STEAM experts, slime makers, tech support, and general life support. But apparently, if the past four months have taught me anything, you'd think our marriage vows included ME being all those things.
Why would I think that? Because I’m doing most of those things. You wake up when you see fit, stroll down to give a jolly hello to the family, then you get to work. I have a job, too, but I also seem to be doing 90% of the kid heavy-lifting.
It’s not that you’re not helpful. You’re willing to help – but I have to ask. And I have to explain how things are done. And I have to finish whatever you decide was too exhausting, annoying, or just plain uninteresting. You don’t think of domestic duties as your job too. You think of them as my job and you’re willing to help.
But here’s the thing you should know about viruses and quarantines: They have made all of us domestic equals. There is no “This is Mom’s job” or “I dunno, ask your mom.” This is a 50/50 partnership with all hands on deck so the moms of the world don’t slowly lose their minds.
So in an effort to shed a little light on where you need to step up, here are a few helpful hacks for a 50-50 partnership:
Ask yourself what's wrong with this picture?
If you’ve got your feet up and you’re watching TV while I fold boxer shorts, ask yourself, “What’s wrong with this picture?” Unless you never made it through Human Development Class in 5th grade, then you’re keenly aware that I don’t actually wear men’s boxer shorts. If you notice me doing something other than watching TV while you’re watching TV, get up off your sweet cheeks and help. Or, at the very minimum, ask if I need help. Then I can sit down and watch you fold your own undies.
There’s no winging it at the grocery store
While it’s super awesome whenever you offer to endure the lines and annoyance of the grocery store, your venturing out is only helpful if it’s actually helpful. When you “wing it” and “get whatever I thought we needed,” which is always stuff we already had or stuff the kids stopped eating 12 months ago, you’re not helping. Make a list. Plan some meals ahead of time. Don’t buy stuff we already have.
Boys can do laundry, too
Believe it or not, my ovaries didn’t come with a manual for a washing machine. I figured out how to do laundry like every other person does: by doing it. You and I both have jobs we’re now doing from home, so in between those extra-loud conference calls you love to make, throw a load in the wash. Oh, and dry it too. Better yet, fold it and actually put it away.
When you say no to TV, you need to step up
It’s cool that you’ve become a newly anointed screen-time police officer, but when you pull the kids off the only thing that makes it possible for me to have a workday, you need to replace it with something else. Might I suggest you hear about your son’s favorite YouTuber or play Exploding Kittens with your daughter? It doesn’t always have to be me.
If I cook, you clean up
So simple yet it so rarely happens.
This is a pandemic, not a vacation — wake up when the kids do
Ever wonder how the kids got that nice healthy breakfast? This gal made it. There's no reason you can’t be the morning parent and help the rest of the day. I’ve got a workday, too.
And before you say, “You should be grateful I even try,” I am grateful. But I also recognize that raising your own children and keeping our lives moving forward is just as much your job as it is mine. You wouldn’t do half your job at work, so don’t do less than your half at home. We’re partners in this crazy time, remember?
