I am what can only be referred to as a hardcore introvert. That doesn’t mean that I’m overly shy or hate people or never go out in public. In the Myers-Briggs sense of the word, I draw my energy from quiet, introspective, blissfully-alone time. I am drained by people, noise, chaos, crowds. To complicate matters, I have so many interests that I tend to flit between them, delving deeply into one for a few weeks or months and then moving on to the next. Barbara Sher calls us scanners. Whenever I thought about having kids, I could only imagine that I would simply get tired of them and not want them around anymore. Or, equally troubling, the noise and chaos they would bring would slowly drive me insane.

Somewhere along the line I decided that I was being overly dramatic, or paranoid or… something. And I changed my mind. I had to convince hubby-to-be, who I think was simply afraid of the unknown (he didn’t know enough about kids to worry about all the things that I was worried about – we’d never have had any if he had known any better). We got pregnant our second month trying and, after an at-risk and less-than-energizing pregnancy, welcomed Bug into the family.

I’d like to say that I was so uplifted, transformed and inspired by the miracle of life that we lived on in familial bliss, but it’s extraordinarily far from the truth. I spent most of the winter in tears begging myhusband to come home and rescue me from the drudgery of parenting. As Bug grew and got a bit more interactive and… interesting… it got easier. We went places, we played games, and he hung out while I desperately tried to get some work done. Still, I spent hours on the phone with family and friends (they will verify that this is in no way an exaggeration) trying to pass the time until Big Guy returned from work to help.

And then something happened. Right as Bug was learning to say, “Car!” and I thought I might survive the whole parenting thing, we found out that we were pregnant again. Surprise! So after 9 months of me napping as much as possible and desperately trying to convince my child to entertain himself, Lady Bug was born and I dipped dangerously low in the post-partum depression pool. [Note to mental health professionals: Just because a depressed mother isn't threatening to harm her children, it's still not a good idea to make her wait weeks for an appointment only to stick her with a therapist who seems unstable herself and who then announces that she has no room for new patients. Just a friendly tip.] I am honestly not sure how my husband survived that time without 1) killing me himself, 2) losing his job.

Now we find ourselves with two of the most adorable little children you’ve ever seen. They are also incredibly stubborn, loud and demanding. I’ve learned a lot of things so far as a parent, but one of the biggest is that I was right back then. I wasn’t being paranoid or overly dramatic or whatever. On a daily basis, the lack of time to myself to simply think my own thoughts nearly unhinges me (oh, I probably didn’t mention that in my genious, I decided to stay home with the kids…). And I often wish they would simply go away (temporarily, of course… like to a different room to play quietly for just 15 damn minutes). I even manage to tell them that on a regular basis. Yeah, I’m not up for any parenting awards, but heck, I’m doing the best that I can.

I’m writing this post from my office in the basement where I have holed away because if someone else asks me for a cup of juice it might just push me over the edge. And in the perspective that I gain from being able to properly formulate an intelligent thought, I know that I fiercely love my children. I know that I’d do anything for them if it came right down to it. I also know that, despite my growling at them regularly throughout the day, they know how much I love them.So if I get a little bit tired of having them around now and again, so be it. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?

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My mother and my biological father split when I was just a few month’s old. When I was about four, she told him that he was no longer allowed to visit. What I didn’t know – and wouldn’t have understood at the time – is that he was constantly cancelling our time together, showing up late and breaking promises. I didn’t know, because she didn’t explain why he was no longer allowed to visit. I was angry with her for years over this, until I was old enough to see things more clearly. At some point, I came to my own conclusion that a father who truly wanted to be in my life wouldn’t have disappeared when my mom (in anger, no doubt) told him to. But the important thing is this: she never said a bad word about him. No matter how many times I told her I was angry at her, she just accepted my ill will until I was old enough to make up my own mind about things. I have a complete and utter respect for her in that regard. So many parents would have tried to turn their children against the other parent in order to keep a good relationship for his or herself.

As I watched Kate continue to badmouth her husband (which she did plenty of when they were still “happy” together) in front of her kids, I felt horrified. I felt sad for children who are going to feel like they need to choose, when they have absolutely no responsibility in their parents’ failing marriage. That is simply NOT putting your family first.

And then we watched as Jon was conspicuously absent in the preparation for the kids’ 5th birthday party. We have only been told (by Kate) that he needed a weekend to himself. While that makes sense from an emotional point of view, it is also NOT putting your family first.

Traveling constantly for work may be the necessary part of a glamorous or appealing career, but your kids are going to miss you. Although they may not admit it, most kids would far prefer to have their parents present in their lives than have a bigger house or even fabulous trips.  Kate, I get why your career is so important to you, but traveling constantly and ignoring your husband’s unhappiness at being home by himself is NOT putting your family first.

Jon, very few people would blame you for being miserable. We’ve seen you deal with insult after insult and we know that you’re now home with 8 kids without the support of your partner. We can see that you don’t have a career of your own. On the other hand, placing yourself in questionable situations when you’re in the public eye is NOT putting your family first.

Worst of all, capturing the lowest moments of your marriage and your family life on film for the entire world to see (including your kids and all of their friends), is most certainly NOT putting your family first. No amount of money can make up for the negative effect this will have your kids’ emotional well-being.

As a parent, I know that we can’t always put our kids’ needs first. We get sick or unhappy, we have dreams and goals, and there are times when we do need to put ourselves first. It is slightly easier when you have a supportive partner who can pick up the slack for you, but it’s always a challenge. But, Jon & Kate, neither of you has earned the right to be self-righteous with the other.  Neither of you can say that everything you do is with your family’s best interests at heart. And I think it’s pretty clear that until you can both admit that you have needs above and beyond those as dutiful parents, your marriage and your relationship as a family unit are doomed. Get it together, people, and stop trying to play the martyr. For once, it’s time to actually put your kids and your family first. And, for the record, do it in private already.

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My husband didn’t go into parenthood with as much enthusiasm as I did. He also didn’t have as much experience with kids. I had babysitting experience, and had spent time with my nieces, so I had the basics down. He had never been spit up on and was wary at best about even holding an infant. When our son was born, I decided that it was time for a little crash course in baby care.

In the hospital, I encouraged Big Guy to attend diapering and bathing classes. I suggested that he watch the nurse change a diaper and then try it the next time himself. I knew he was nervous and figured that the best remedy was practice without me hovering over him with a critical eye.

It is now 3+ years later and he’s a pro. He does dinner, bath and bed with minimal or no help from me. He gets up in the morning and dresses the kids. It’s all part of the division of labor we have in the house, but sometimes I feel a bit guilty. I have absolutely no idea what the kids’ bath time routine is (I haven’t given a bath in over a year, I think) and Bug is always a bit put-out when daddy isn’t there to do his bed time rituals correctly. If I disappeared, my husband would be just fine. Of course, the kids wouldn’t get luxuries like lotion and diaper cream and they may have too much sugary cereal and hot dogs, but they would be clean, dressed and fed. And, they would feel completely safe and nurtured by their dad. He knows them just as well as Mama does.

This is not the norm. Most of my mom friends (and relatives) have husbands that can “watch” the kids in time of need, but seem either incapable or unwilling to actually co-parent their children. I’ve always been a bit resentful of the imbalance in this type of parenting relationship, thinking it symbolizes some sort of gender power issue in the home.  But, upon closer scrutiny, I don’t think that’s entirely true. I think that some moms take a certain pride in their ability to care for their offspring better than daddy does. Sure, they gripe about having to do everything, but when it comes down to it they aren’t willing to let go. They hover over uncertain daddies and complain about things that aren’t just right and seem convinced that, if left to their own devices, daddies would let the kids drown in the tub or choke on a piece of candy. And, to be fair, most of the dads in these situations are more than happy to let Mom do the work. And who can blame them? Unfortunately, they miss out on some of the special moments that only primary caregivers get to experience. It’s a shame for dads and for kids.

If you’re a mom who truly wants her partner to have just as special of a relationship with the kids, here are a few tips:

Let Daddy do it his way, even if it makes you cringe. The kids may be dirtier, louder, mis-matched or otherwise not quite perfect, but who really cares? Is a matching outfit really more important than a close relationship with your dad?

Try to avoid criticizing his actions. If you giggle when he messes up his first diaper change or give him a hard time if he’s too rowdy right before bed time, he’s going to stop trying.

Let him make mistakes. Many of us have put a diaper on backwards, forgotten the bib or chosen the story that’s just a bit too scary before bedtime. As long as the child isn’t in physical or emotional danger, let it go. Just make sure that Daddy is responsible for the repercussions. He’ll learn the lesson on his own.

Put your own issues aside. Yes, it’s nice to be needed and, yes, it can feel good to know that the you’re the only one who can get little Johnny to sleep. But it’s even nicer to move past that to allowing Dad to become a great parent that your children can rely on if you are sick or need to be away.

As Big Guy prepares for his trip, I’m a bit anxious. Of course, I’ll miss him just being around, but it’s more than that. He has a role in our household, not just in our lives. And, of course, I may have to actually give a bath!

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