I read an interesting article last night about how people think it's funny to treat men like they're idiots when it comes to babies (and children in general). The author (a dad) is rightly bothered about a picture of a onesie his wife sent him. The onesie had "directions" on it for the idiot father how doesn't realize where the head and arms of an infant should go (with arrows!) The "joking" idea behind it being that men are idiots and are completely clueless dolts.
It's not just a random onesie, it seems to be a prevalent way of thinking. I can think of at least two recent-ish diaper commercials about a dad who doesn't change his baby's diaper but it's okay because the diapers are super absorbent and won't bother baby. And it's more than that, it's an attitude reflected in movies and on television: the bumbling dad who puts two different shoes on his kid, or feeds them junk for breakfast, and the long-suffering mother who's always right (which, as Mr. Gouveia points out, is a whole other stereotype issue).
Well, I have a 9.5 month old son, and here's what I know so far:
I'm not always right. My way isn't always the best way. Sometimes my husband's is better.
Until I had my son I'd barely spent any time with babies or small children. You know you had? My husband, who for a time worked at a daycare and had four small nephews.
I hope I don't make my husband feel like an idiot. When he parents differently than I might I at least (usually) try to keep my mouth shut and let him do his thing, although I'll admit that I am sometimes biting back a "You're doing it wrong!". And then I feel like a real dolt when the thing I wouldn't do ends up working better than the thing I would have done.
Case in point:
A few nights ago our son was in a terrible, terrible mood when he woke up around 2 am. Like hysterics. The second time this week (I really hope it's teething, and that's it's over soon, because the poor boy just sounds miserable). Anyway, that night he was more cranky than pained, and all of my attempts to rock and nurse him to sleep in a very calm, quiet room...failed. So husband brought him out into the kitchen (But it's so BRIGHT in there!) and asked me to peel a banana to feed him (You want to give him a banana and spike his blood sugar? NOW?) I ended up feeding all three of us pieces of a banana while husband was holding him....and it calmed him down more than half an hour of rocking and nursing did (Oh, well...) It was one of those nice moments that I'll think about years from now.
Evan started fighting hard when Dave tried to put him down in the crib, and as I was hovering in the doorway, spying on them through a crack, trying to find the right moment to swoop in and say "I'll take him!" Dave put him back down in the crib and started playing "peek-a-boo" through the slats, singing to him and making funny noises. Evan was cracking up, crawling and cruising along the side of the crib, all smiles and big belly laughs. And it took a few tries, but eventually Dave was able to leave the room. Evan played in his crib, quiet and happy for several minutes until he drifted off. Happy and Calm.
Hmm...maybe I should push back his bedtime so Dave can put him to bed more often :)
Anyway, the article made me take a hard look at myself and how I think and react to his parenting. I'm mean or disparaging, but I know I definitely tend to have an "I'm his mother, of course I know best" state of mind.
But I don't, and it's unfair to both of us to assume that I'm flawless and Dave is an idiot. I married a very smart man. He can certainly figure out where a baby's head should go and to suggest otherwise, even in jest, is insulting to both of us. Yes, I spend a lot more time with Evan, but that doesn't give me the right to assume anytime Dave does something differently than I do that he's wrong. Because sometimes he's right. Sometimes his way is the better way. And that's okay. I think between the two of us we strike a good parenting balance, and I think that's the way it should be.
It's Time to Stop Treating Dads Like Idiots
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