Parenthood as Partnership: Taking One for the Team

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Co-parenting responsiblities.It’s 10 a.m. on a Saturday, and I have a two-year-old slung on my hip while my three-year-old and six-year-old each wrap themselves around a leg, the oldest waving dismissively. We’re watching their daddy pull the car out of the driveway and disappear. I turn towards the playroom, and a thick layer of My Little Pony, Hot Wheels, and Magna Tiles look back at me.

How did this happen I think to myself. How am I the one at home entertaining all three kids while he gets to run errands. Alone. I want to brood a bit. Take a few minutes to feel all “poor me.” But it doesn’t last long; as I remember, the first rule of co-parenting is taking one for the team.

That’s right. This is one of those times when I’m taking one for the team for my partner’s sanity. It’s just one of the million times that he or I will do it this week. In ways, we’ve never imagined. We throw shade, barter with one another, and play coy, hoping the other one will be that parent. Right now, it’s me. 

But it doesn’t end there. We do this song and dance all week as we take on the undesirable parent roles. Some are better than others. There are specific roles one of us may tolerate more than the other, but ultimately, they’re undesirable. These parenting roles don’t get written about in parenting books, but they exist. And I’m not going to hide them anymore. Instead, I will highlight a sample of those parents who take one for the team.

The Gross Hug Parent: When my three-year-old wakes up scared and covered in his own vomit, he needs a hug. Now. Not when he’s cleaned up. Now. And there ain’t nobody who wants that job, but someone has to take it.

The Elf on the Shelf Parent: It’s three o’clock in the morning, and in a cold sweat, we simultaneously wake up. Something is amiss. Neither of us has moved the elves. But it’s so cold outside of the covers. And even colder downstairs. And who has time to make them seem mischievous? Neither one of us, unfortunately.

The iPhone Parent: When my little people get bored, it can get messy. Most of the time, we’re prepared for boredom, but on the off chance we aren’t, iPhones can be miracle workers. The problem is neither one of us want to give our phones to tiny little hands, hands that are often covered in a mix of peanut butter, jelly, snot, and tears. But one of us has to.

The Pool Parent: Outdoor pools can be cold. Really cold. But, like most kids, mine believe they are part mermaid and part dolphin, so not going in the water is not an option. And they need a grown-up to suck it up and get in that cold water with them.

The Passenger Seat Parent: Before kids, driving the car on road trips was the task. It meant staying awake and paying attention. The passenger got to take care of the music, relax, and sleep. It was a golden time for a road trip passenger. Then the kids came. And that passenger role is the least coveted seat in the house now. It is breaking up fights, tossing snacks, and scraping lovies from the floor. It is gathering trash and handing out entertainment. It is taking one for the team.

The Dinner Lap Parent: It always seems that at least one of our kids prefers to eat our food than their own. Said child will creep up into a parent’s lap, and this parent knows that their food is no longer their own. But, on the upside, they will get to eat the chewed chicken nuggets that are soaking in spilled water on our child’s plate. 

The Lap Child Parent: Speaking of laps, there is one parent both my husband and I will do anything to avoid being: the parent who lets the under two-year-old sit on their lap the entire plane ride to or from a destination (we have limits on the length of the flight though; we’re not that crazy). This parent endures hair pulling, drink spilling, and mouth inspecting. All while we are confined to an 18-inch seat. Who wants to take that on?

The Sippy Cup Cleaning Parent: Why can’t those fancy sippy cups go in the dishwasher? Why do we have to break them into 12 tiny pieces to get them clean? Why are some of the nooks and crannies of said cups so teeny that we have to use cotton swabs to clean them out? We avoid this job until we can’t. And when those cups pile up, and our children still need to drink, one of us has to take this undesirable role.

The Diaper Changing Parent: In this battle, my husband and I often loudly mention that our son needs a new diaper and then gets “caught up” in some other essential task, requiring the other to be the parent who changes the diaper. It is an actual battle of wills here. But one of us has to win, right?

The Bath Time Parent: Every few nights (or all of them), my husband and I wonder how it got to be so late by the time we get our kids into bed. But we really know why. Neither one of us wants to be the parent who initiates baths. So we don’t. Until there is no option. Because it is so ridiculously late.

The Pack-Mule Parent: Kids need things. And kids want something. So when we head out of our home, it always seems the amount of stuff we’re dragging with us takes up more space than the children do. (And of course, we will not need anything we brought, and they will not want anything they got, so there’s that). Neither of us wants to make the 452 trips it takes to load and unload the car to drive an hour away. It’s a thankless, untidy job. But it’s got to get done.

Living with another human means compromising continuously, but parenting with one? We find ourselves compromising on things we never thought we’d have to. It involves a lot of pretending not to hear each other or slinking out of the room at the most appropriate (or inappropriate) times. It means knowing my husband can’t handle stomach bugs as well as I can. And falling asleep confident in the knowledge that tomorrow, he’ll take all the bags to the car and bring them back in. Because I just won’t. (Unless I must because I’m taking one for the team).

How do you parent in partnership? 

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Jen
Jen is three-year resident of Westchester County and a five-year resident of Mommyhood. She enjoys writing, reading, coffee, wine, Disney World, and traveling with her husband, five year old daughter, two year old son, and 13 month old tiny son. She used to teach high school English in the city, but she decided to give up that stress for the stress of being a SAHM. Her least favorite things to do are laundry and dishes, but those seem to be the two things she puts the most energy into, hoping that one day, someone will create a Roomba-like device that will gather, sort, pretreat, wash, dry, fold, and put away the now clean clothes that her children shed like snakeskin around the house. Aside from dishes and laundry, Jen also occupies her free moments traveling and writing for her blog Three Kids and A Car where she provides travel tips and stories she’s collected since she first started bringing her daughter with her while she traveled the world.

1 COMMENT

  1. Thank you Jen for normalizing and actually making the ‘parental grind’ hilarious! And my husband will thank you too because until reading this I didn’t fully appreciate how often he takes one for the team. Probably because he gets to swoop in after work and have a limited time of being in that role but still – worth applauding regardless.

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