To be daddy for a day

Sometimes I wish I was my husband.  No, I don’t wish to be a man.  I don’t wish to have the financial burden on my shoulders and the responsibility to be the leader of the household.  I’m talking about the freedom that my husband has when it comes to taking care of the kids. 

My husband is a hard working man.  He will do what he has to do to provide for our family and to make sure we have everything we need.  But the one thing that my husband has that I don’t is a way to escape the kids.  If he doesn’t feel like dealing with the kids, he can hand them off to me.  His favorite line when he wants to get away from our toddler is, “Go to mama.”  Now mama usually is doing something like loading the dishwasher, nursing the baby, or just sitting down to eat her food finally. It never fails.  Not even a couple of minutes to myself, my husband would send my oldest to me. 

I don’t want to think that my husband takes advantage of the fact that I’m there, but I think he takes advantage that I’m there…well subconsciously anyway.  My husband can come home from a day of work, goes upstairs to his man cave to unwind and decompress and then come down to chill with us.  I can’t do that.  I’m dealing with a toddler that shouting at me when he wants something, him telling me no all the time, occasionally temper tantrum meltdowns, and him running around screaming and chasing after the dog. I’m also dealing with our infant son who started teething and will cry relentlessly because he peed or hungry or gassy or something.  I would be lucky to get a break when I go to the bathroom.  On weekends, my husband can sleep in late, eat breakfast when he wants to and escape to his cave. I still have to get up, feed the kids, play with the kids, and to make sure that the kids mental, physical, social, and emotional needs are met.

Ah, to be daddy for a day.  To have someone else take care of the kids and I can make guest appearances with the family when I feel like it.  Then when I get tired or bored, I can go and take a break for a couple of hours in my cave.  To get up at ten o’clock in the morning on the weekends, to take an uninterrupted shower, eat breakfast, do something I want to do. To have dinner ready for me for once so I can relax on the weekends.  Just to have time with my thoughts…quiet time. 

I wonder if the mother in me would allow me to have such free time.  Would I worry about the kids?  Would the person who is taking care of my kids would feed them, play with them, or read to them like I would?  Would I check up my kids because I secretly miss them?  Honestly, I probably would do all those things because I would miss them a lot. I probably would not know what to do with myself if I had the time to spare.  I’m not asking for much, maybe a couple of hours or a half a day of me time once in a while.  I need to allow myself that time to recharge so I can be a better mother for my children.  How can I do that when the mother inside won’t let me enjoy myself?  Maybe one day Vanessa.  Maybe one day.


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