For most of us living in Tracy, commuting is a way of life. Sad as it may be, spending 4 hours a day driving to and from work is our norm. While I could easily turn this piece into a political rant, I will restrain myself. Politics aside, this is about families in Tracy who attempt to work though the hardships that come with traveling over the hill to make ends meet. Specifically, the toll it takes on a relationship when one commutes and the other stays home to take care of the kids.
I have heard too many times from friends and family in this position complain about their partner who doesn't understand how hard it is to put in a long days work and then finish it off with several hours of sitting in bumper to bumper traffic. I hear from the parents who stay home (myself included) complain about how their partner doesn't see all of the responsibilities that come with taking care of kids and managing a household. We often find ourselves arguing over who has the shorter end of the stick. With that said, I think it is high time we clear the air and find a middle ground on this issue.
I suppose I should begin by explaining to the working commuters that my opinion is not as biased as you may think. I am a stay at home mother of two young children ages 3 and 5. I am the wife of a wonderful husband who selflessly drives to the bay area everyday allowing me to claim such a monumental title. I know how hard he has it because I also used to dread the very same commute. For eight long years I worked in the corporate world and for what seemed like an even longer 6 months I did the brake pedal tap dance and downed my fair share of caffeine cocktails. I understand what it feels like to watch for brake lights with 2 ton eyelids. I know what it feels like to realize that the closest I'm going to get to a passenger is talk radio. I get it.
Day after day I am riddled with guilt when the alarm clock sounds at 4 a.m. because I still have 2 more hours of sleep while he has to stumble in the dark toward the shower. Every evening I watch my husband pull into the driveway resembling a lifeless zombie with his shoulders hunched over and his eyes in a daze. No doubt he is drained, no time for a pity party though, here come the kids tugging at his shirt begging him to shoot the puck and get pushed on the swing outside. (I have yet to figure out why they prefer him for these activities. I don't think my slap-shot is half bad). What they don't understand is that he is well past drained. It takes all he has left just to change into comfortable clothes and make his way back downstairs. They don't know any better, and they shouldn't have to. (Oh how the propaganda calls to me…grumble.)
On the other hand, what he and many other commuting parents sometimes fail to see is how much work really goes into taking care of kids and the upkeep of a home. Believe me, it's not all soap operas and bon-bons. Actually, it's none of that. A few weeks ago I received yet another spam email from a friend. You know, the one who floods your inbox with nonsense chain letters and pretend abductions…we all have one. Normally I delete and move on but there was no nonsense about this email. It contained, in humorous fashion, truth after truth. It described in detail, a mock theme for the next Survivor episodes, a reality TV show about survival in a remote area with less than adequate supplies. And only because I can't say it any better, it reads…
The next theme for the Reality series "Survivor" will be a cast of Dads who will stay home and take care of 3 kids each, it will run for 6 weeks.
Each kid will play two sports and either take music or dance classes. There is no fast food. Each man must take care of his 3 kids; keep his assigned house clean, correct all homework, complete science projects, cook, do laundry, tend to the garden and pay a list of 'pretend' bills with not enough money.
In addition, each man will have to budget for groceries each week. Each man must remember the birthdays of all their friends and relatives, and send cards out on time--no emailing. They must also take each child to a doctor's appointment, dentist appointment and a haircut appointment. He must make one unscheduled and inconvenient visit per child to Urgent Care.
He must also make cookies or cupcakes for a social function. Adult interaction must be kept to a minimum. Each will be responsible for decorating his own assigned house, planting flowers outside and keeping it presentable at all times. The men will only have access to television when the kids are asleep and all chores are done. The men must shave their legs, wear makeup daily, adorn themselves with jewelry, wear uncomfortable yet stylish shoes, keep fingernails polished and eyebrows groomed.
During one of the six weeks, the men will have to endure severe abdominal cramps, back aches,and have extreme, unexplained mood swings but never once complain or slow down from other duties.
They must attend weekly school meetings, church, and find time at least once to spend the afternoon at the park or a similar setting. They will need to read a book to the kids each night and in the morning, feed them, dress them, brush their teeth and comb their hair by 7:30 am.
A test will be given at the end of the six weeks, and each father will be required to know all of the following information: each child's birthday, height, weight, shoe size, clothes size and doctor's name. Also the child's weight at birth, length, time of birth, and length of labor, each child's favorite color, middle name, favorite snack, favorite song, favorite drink, favorite toy, biggest fear and what they want to be when they grow up.
The kids vote them off the island based on performance. The last man wins only if...he still has enough energy to be intimate with his spouse at a moment's notice. If the last man does win, he can play the game over and over and over again for the next 18-25 years.
Now, don't get me wrong. By no means am I saying my job is harder than my husbands. I'm just trying to shed a little light here. But that's the problem isn't it? Each person lists off the exhausting duties that come with our job descriptions, hoping for the slightest sign of sympathy or a pat on the back.
The only way we can stop the madness is by accepting the fact that we chose these circumstances. We are a team. We continue to make these sacrifices so our children can live in an affordable house, in a decent town with great schools and wonderful neighbors. We do it for our children. As tired as we both are at the end of the day we need to suck it up and tell our teammate that their contributions are much appreciated. Because really, it's all either of us is looking for. We both want a pat on the back and a 'job well done, honey'. What we do shouldn't be a competition of who has the shorter end of the stick. I've done both and I will tell you that both sticks are very short. In the end, the value of our sacrifices cannot be measured. Welcome to parenthood.
1 comment:
Bloody marvellous post.
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