When I first had kids, I had these expectations for how my parenting experience would look. I would have this wonderful robot of a husband. He would do exactly what I needed him to do, without communicating my needs. He would never have a bad day. He would be ever present and perfect.
While he was never this person before kids, I thought they would change him. I expected the world from him and in my delusional state, didn’t offer him the support that I myself so desperately needed. I saw him as my relief pitcher; same team, but never on the field at the same time. This, coupled with the catalysts of failed communication, ultimately destroyed our marriage. We went from having a relationship to being miserable roommates. I was only excited for him to be home so I could get some time away. I learned a lot about myself through the failure. A relationship with kids needs to be nurtured with adult conversation, time together, and a mutual understanding of the shared responsibilities.
In my new relationship, we found ourselves expecting a child very early on. To complicate it further, he had no experience with kids and I came with two. I was terrified of falling into the “mommy only” rut again. I was very fortunate to find a great man. I also have better self-awareness, this time around. We both take time for ourselves and we spend time together. He will tell people that I “do it all” at home. I do cover the bases with the house and kids while he is the fun parent. What he doesn’t understand is that he keeps me sane. The time he carves out for me, the stuff he does for us, the love he has for the kids; it was all I ever needed. I don’t look forward to the relief pitcher anymore. I look forward to the love of my life coming home and having a conversation with me. I look forward to him getting the kids rowdy because they are so excited that he is there to play. I look forward to time with my family instead of recovering from my day with them.
