Man Strong, Woman Weak
I was reading some posts recently in a men’s group about fatherhood when the topic of roles came up and believe me when I say there are few topics more passionate. Enter Johnny Badass to entertain us with his diatribe on what he would/would not allow his wife to do.
Confidence speaks, insecurity yells.
Few things are more damaging to a relationship than this idiotic and antiquated version of home life in general and child rearing in particular. Time and experience have taught me that clinging to this stereotypical role of masculinity/femininity damages not only our relationship, it’s passing on fallacies to our offspring and setting them up for challenges in their own relationships later in life. This contorted view of strength and weakness, masculinity and femininity is toxic.
I have no issues saying this. Aside from the obvious physical prohibitive activities (child birth, breast feeding) men are as capable if not more so in many areas. Settle down ladies, it’s not a competition. And I will wholeheartedly agree having seen it multiple times, I don’t know many men, myself included, that could endure childbirth then willingly do it AGAIN. True, this could also be used as evidence of insanity but this isn’t a scientific work.
It’s not feminizing men if they help clean. Cleaning is hard work, and despite years and years of experience, one that I cannot perfect. Ask my wife and she will tell you through gritted teeth and no small measure of resentment. Think of it as the unspoken version of the Southern ‘bless your heart.’ To be honest, our washing machine has more settings and calibrations than the Mars Rover and I was wholly unaware that each type of garment is issued with secret washing instructions only passed from mother to daughter and never, ever put on a clothing label. By comparison, my work is simple.
Cleaning is a full time job with kids around the house. How they haven’t invented a riding Roomba to both entertain your child and clean up after them is a mystery of mine. And you have no idea how big your house is until you have to keep it clean. It’ll make you appreciate your significant other more. I’ve been helping clean this for over a year now and I still find rooms I swear weren’t there a week ago, and strangely enough they’ve been used. I also don’t know who keeps using the toilets in the spare two bathrooms but that’s a story for another time.
On to cooking, another role that is traditionally seen as a woman’s though more acceptable an activity for men. Cooking is a joy of mine, and I am by no means a culinary artist but it is fun to try. To create something not out of a box from a host of fresh ingredients and serve it to the family. Our in house ratings board (stepson) is the deciding vote on what stays on our personal menu and what doesn’t get made again. I can’t tell him yet that it doesn’t matter because I forget to write down the recipes and I can seldom remember how to recreate a hit dish.
Diaper changing/dressing: A caveat here. Many of us males are what I would call, coordinatingly challenged. Dressing boys is simple. Dressing little girls is a bit more difficult because they come with accessories. Hair bows and mittens and hats and frilly little dresses with bloomers and stuff I don’t know the name for. Now I will say my daughter is cute in anything, but I am her father and therefore biased. In some photos I take I can admit, grudgingly, she looks like a walking rummage sale. However, we can do it fellows.
I won’t do diaper jokes because they’ve been done to death. It’s easy though. Save the fact that grown men who can do the toughest of work go insane, gag uncontrollably and sometimes weep when the wipe sticks and you swipe your hand through your kid’s last three meals.
Which takes me to the next step. Grooming and cleaning your kid. In my day, a water hose and a sliver of soap were an acceptable bath. Times change and now, especially with babies, you have a vast assortment of toiletries, lotions, balms, soaps, oils, shampoos and bathing accessories which you must not just learn, but master. While you may be happy with your skin resembling your favorite ball glove and leaving a crusty trail of heel skin everywhere you go, that’s best left a personal choice and not one you make for your child. Also, you’re disgusting.
Bathing a child is tough work. It’s somewhat akin to wrestling an oiled up seal in their own environment. No matter what part you’re trying to get to, they will have in their minds that this will be the part furthest from you. Bathing children is the origin of professional wrestling. Hours in the gym cannot equate to fighting a wet, slippery, wriggling eel in a small puddle of warm water. Good luck. At least you, like me, will smell better. Although women who haven’t had children may look at you suspiciously as you pass them smelling of baby powder and organic lavender lotion. On the plus sides, mothers will find the scent irresistable, especially if you’re caught in the diaper aisle.
Which leads to shopping. Despite the aforementioned challenges with color coordination and fashion trends, it’s fun to shop for a kid. Each sex has their own challenges, but nonetheless, it’s entertaining. I suspect this one stems as much from fear and ignorance as clinging to gender roles. As challenging as it may seem, the sizes on diapers do make sense, the instructions on formula and food is pretty thorough and the mere fact that it’s in the baby aisle means your statistically unlikely to find something lethal to your little one, unless you’re shopping at Bob’s Baby and Knife Emporium you’ll be ok. Have fun with it.
And while it may be true that some of these activities leave you feeling less than accomplished in that you haven’t competed in any sports, chased down a woolly mammoth or built any pyramids this week, find an activity that mimics this. I hide in corners and leap on the back of an untamed and feral animal and wrestle it to the ground. This will change as my wife says if I tackle her once more there are going to be issues.
To summarize what I’ve learned from this, and this will ruffle some feathers on the peacocks, is this. After reading these posts, opinions and diatribes for years it is apparent that many of us males have the wrong view of themselves. Those pounding their chests and boasting of what their women are ‘allowed’ to do and defining roles in their homes for themselves and their women are blowhards. You’re weak. And if anything I’ve learned in life is true it is this and I am aware this is a generality but it is largely true.
We are seldom as courageous as when we act in spite of fear, of the new things we are learning, we are never so wealthy as when we are gracious, never so noble as when we bend a knee to help others and never so strong as when we bend.
In truth, the stronger the man, the stronger the wife and vice versa. Save the chest thumping for being King Kong at playtime.
And as to the gentleman and what he’d allow his wife to do/not do, have a seat, Junior. The men are speaking.
