Stop calling my wife, dammit.

Not you, weird dude from work. I’m talking to YOU, doctor’s office. The one who has been told multiple times that if you want to speak to a parent, try dad first.

My son has been through several rounds of examination and treatment with this doctor. My wife has never even spoken to him. For work reasons, she couldn’t make the parental consult meeting. She doesn’t go to these meetings because it is MY JOB.

The next appointment is in two days. And then I get the fateful text from the wife:

“Stupid doctor left me a VM again.” (I paraphrased for cleanliness.)

Listen, this isn’t even about making our lives easier. If you, a medical professional, want to help our children, you need to reach the primary caregiver. Not the working-her-ass-off, leaning-in, awesome-but-busy mom.

At least you aren’t alone. The school nurse still calls my wife, even after five years and two children. This is even though my name appears first on the contact card. I’ve even put an arrow to my number, reading “call dad first.” Still, every once in a while, I’ll get my wife’s “Did they call you instead yet” text. That means if the nurse doesn’t call me soon, I better call her.

The school office has finally learned. Of course, I think it took until I was elected PTA co-president for them to fully get it. The teachers, much to their credit, have understood from day one that this dad gets there a lot faster when there is a sick or paint-covered child. So there’s that.

I can’t imagine how they handle same-sex couples. If there are two dads, does no one get a call? If it’s lesbians, does it force the office assistant into some kind of Linda-Blair-esque, spinning perpetual-motion head spin, trying to decide which mom to call? Perhaps that’s our world’s solution for renewable energy.

Listen: In the grand scheme of things, this is clearly a First-World issue. And it’s not even the biggest one at that. But here’s what this assumption does: It reinforces the incorrect paradigm that men are unable to handle their children’s care and the unfortunate sociological expectation that women can – and will – drop everything in their lives for their kids. This hurts all men and all women.

If we want to live in a world where everyone contributes to their family and society as they see fit, we need to start respecting that, for the most part, almost any task can be done by anyone regardless of the contents of their pants.

Oh, and if you’re the medical professional that provoked the writing of this column and you figure it out, you can win a prize. Just call my children’s NEW primary caregiver.

About the author

Josh Kross is an at-home dad to his three kids. He is the former engineer and producer of The Modern Dads Podcast. He also produced the critically acclaimed Hip-Hop podcast, The Cipher (theciphershow.com).

This blog post, first published in 2014 for the NYC Dads Group blog and since updated, is part of the #NoDadAlone campaign. Fathering Together/City Dads Group, the National At-Home Dad Network, and Fathers Eve are joining forces to amplify messages that help dads recognize we are not alone! Follow #NoDadAlone on Instagram, and learn more at NoDadAlone.com. Photo by Moose Photos from Pexels.

Fathers are incompetent man-children who may be able to keep their kids alive (in a pinch), but not much else.

Mothers are incessant nags who wouldn’t know a good time if it tickled their collective behinds, but they do know to take care of business … around the house, anyway.

WTF!?!

It seems impossibly outdated, yet somehow this view of parenthood as a battle between the sexes rather than a partnership persists.

Give me a friggin’ break.

I know my situation is different than the norm. I’m a stay-at-home dad. When my children go to my wife for help, do they look around and ask, “Where is Dad?” No. They ask her for what they need. When we’re both home, do we magically revert to old stereotypes, that she knows everything and I’m just a dumb lug who scratches himself all day? No! We have a partnership in this whole parenting thing.

I’ve seen the memes about helpless dads countless times. For each one, there are a host of women commenting “oh, yeah!” and “preach it, girl!” I usually just roll my eyes and make a mental note of which of my friends is an idiot that day (or who is getting really annoyed at this silly B.S., which can also be amusing).

Parenting partnership is no joke

These moms are probably mostly joking or venting, maybe thinking back to particular instances when their men could have done more … or maybe these moms just weren’t thinking at all. Totally understandable. I’ve encountered my share of arguably sexist memes and, for an instant, saw a grain of truth in them or just wanted to empathize or bond with the dude who posted it. Then I think about the message I’d be sending to the world – about my wife and women – and I keep scrolling. There are better things to like on the internet. But I’m not mad at the women who click “like” and leave messages of support for this view. I feel sorry for them. Their “partners” are not holding up their end of the implicit parental bargain.

However, I’m willing to bet that most parents recognize how valuable their significant other is. If not, something is wrong in that dynamic. It’s possible that dad is slacking and needs to get his act together. Maybe mom is stressed because dad feels his role as a parent is to provide for his family, and not much else. It’s also possible that mom won’t let him participate as much as he’d like to because he doesn’t fold the laundry the “right way” or cook a “perfectly balanced” meal the way she would. A parenting partnership requires some give and take, particularly the giving up and taking of control.

As a stay-at-home parent, I absolutely depend on my wife. Just like she could not put in long hours at work if I didn’t stay home with the kids, I could not take care of the kids all day if she didn’t share those responsibilities when she was home. I would lose my damn mind!

By the time we pick my wife up at the train station, I am ready to hand over the reins. I am all too happy to take on some of those household responsibilities I shirked during the day. After a long day at the office, every minute with the kids is precious for her. Yes, she’s exhausted, but in a different way. What is something of a break for her is the very thing that threatens every day to break me: those crazy kids and all their questions!

Upon further reflection, maybe those memes aren’t as far off as I originally thought. If the moms who liked it are anything like me, they’re probably hiding in the kitchen once their spouses get home. The kids aren’t asking dad where mom is because dad is a useless idiot, they’re asking because there are times when mom doesn’t want to be found! It’s a good thing that, like me, she has a husband in this whole parenting partnership thing who is ready, willing, and able to take on whatever questions, requests, and demands are thrown his way.

Parenting partnership first ran in 2104 and has since been update. Photo by Katie E from Pexels

When my first kid was born, I was terrified someone would take her from me. It was as if a little Rumpelstiltskin would show up and say, “Give me your firstborn!” Then he would run away with my kid to a sauerkraut factory. He’s a greasy little man in my visions.

What really worried me is that the moment my kid started crying, fusing or just existing, a mom or grandma would swoop in and take her away from me. I’m a dad, and dads are not built for caring for children. We all know he is an idiot that doesn’t know a onesie from a jumper. And the baby is crying because the baby doesn’t like Dad. Who the hell is the chump anyway? He smells like meat and sauerkraut.

That was my real fear. Not only would I not be good enough in others’ eyes, but I wouldn’t be good enough in my child’s eyes. I would be second best. Someone else would be her rock.

So, I took my kid and hid with her in the middle of the night. We watched Star Trek and the only judgement I got was from Captain Kirk. We boldly went to strange new worlds, exploring life together as I fed her, and my wife slept. This wasn’t a “favor” I was doing for my wife. This was for me. This was to ensure that no greedy hands would prevent me from being my daughter’s father in every way possible.

And it was there, with the Enterprise 1701, that I realized my kid didn’t prefer mom over me. The kid didn’t care at all. I was her dad, and that’s all that mattered. We are told that moms are more nurturing. It is explained to us that we don’t have that special gene that babies respond to more. We can’t ever know that bond.

What a load of crap.

Dads are meant for caring

“Babies are biologically programmed to engage with and be responsive to any and all adults who regularly provide care for them.”

That quote is from the book Myths and Lies about Dads by Dr. Linda Nielsen of Wake Forest University. Read that quote again and let that sink in. Truly.

How many times have we been told as fathers that we are JV team? Oh no, we can’t take the baby. Only moms know how to do that. And how many dads have used that excuse to get out of caring for their children? Man, that last one bothers me because you are robbing yourself of bonding experiences that can’t be recovered. It’s those late nights when our kids truly look at us and think, You know what, this guy is all right.

Those are the moments when we become a father, and we are often robbed of those opportunities. And that grand theft continues throughout their childhood as we are sidelined and gatekept by the well-meaning but misinformed.

Look, I know lots of dads who shun their duties. But I also know many of us had to fight to be involved, and even now we are ridiculed for it. We’ve all heard the stories of being yelled at while at the park or ignored during story time. We’ve all had our masculinity questioned because we stay home with our kids. Both fathers who shirk their responsibilities and fathers who are the primary caregivers can exist in the same universe. We shouldn’t be treated the same. Our kids shouldn’t be plucked out of our hands by small little people.

Dads are also born at children’s birth

“When a father holds his baby against this bare chest, his prolactin increases while his testosterone, blood pressure, and heart rate decrease.”

Well, look at that. Dads actually change biologically when our kids are born. We become calmer and less aggressive. We get ready to assume the role of caregiver. This is another fact from Dr. Nielsen’s book. We should all take note.

This week I helped an at-home dad. He was brand spanking new to it and felt like a failure. He had tied his worth to a paycheck and didn’t realize that when we dads care for our kids, that is our job. That it has as much value as when a mom does it. We change, we adapt, and we teach them the Vulcan death grip. No, we don’t do it like moms, and that is fine. Let moms be moms and dads be dads.

I hope he listened to me when I told him all this. I hope that he gets all the benefits of being Johnny on the spot. Dads are literally built to take care of our kids. Don’t let any little troll tell you otherwise.

Photo: © Halfpoint / Adobe Stock.

Editor’s Note: Back in 2014, City Dads Group co-founders Matt Schneider and Lance Somerfeld were asked to write about what they thought moms, bosses, and others should know about modern dads. Their words, which first appeared in New York Family magazine, still hold true today.

Modern dads can hack it

Generally, we as a society still haven’t quite come around to the idea that dads are also parents. If a dad takes his child on public transportation, goes grocery shopping, or bakes cupcakes for the school fundraiser, he’s a rock star. We’re over-praised by strangers for displaying even the most basic level of involvement in our children’s lives. Recently, on a crowded crosstown bus, Lance was reading a picture book with his son when a lady complimented him for being a “great dad.” What about all of the other moms and caregivers riding the bus with their children? Were they “great” parents too? The bar is still set extremely low for fathers, and we’re asking society to elevate their parenting expectations for us. We can deliver. Just give us the chance.

Today’s fathers love talking about parenting

There’s a mystique and misconception that modern dads keep their feelings inside when it comes to important topics like parenting and relationships. At NYC Dads Group, we have hosted parenting workshops about potty training, happy/healthy sleep habits, admission to preschool, becoming a new dad, and child passenger safety. We have heated conversations during these workshops. Dads were champing at the bit to share their opinions surrounding all topics of parenting. Modern dads want to share best practices for wiping their daughters after a poop, what to do when their kid refuses to nap, or what app they can use to log feedings during the first few months. They also want to vent their many frustrations. There’s the lack of changing stations in public restrooms, the lost spontaneity that comes with strict nap and feeding schedules, and not having enough personal time to pursue hobbies, see friends, or exercise. Today’s dads want to talk parenting — they just need the right forum.

New dads want it all

New and expectant dads are worried about how to be successful at work and successful at home. These dads share their fears and concerns about long hours, business travel, lack of paid family leave and/or flexible benefits, and rigid corporate culture. Not surprisingly, studies show that most dads want to be successful both in their careers and as fathers. We encourage dads to figure out what benefits they have and use them. They need to be transparent with supervisors so their bosses and coworkers know that being a parent is important. After that, we encourage working dads to carve out special time each week to tune in and do something they enjoy with their children.

Modern dads want to be on the team

Parenting is challenging work whether it’s mom or dad in charge. We believe in the idea that dads can be just as nurturing, capable, and confident as moms. Our children need to be fed, cared for, brought to school, assisted with homework, and shuttled to practice. Domestic chores like laundry, cleaning the home, and paying bills need to be tackled, and we’ve drawn the conclusion that it’s so much easier as a high-performance tag team of two. Today’s dads need ample opportunities early and often to learn. Too frequently, moms feel as if they’re the only ones who can properly care for their children, and dads are pushed aside. Please let us fail miserably, pull ourselves up, and learn from our mistakes so we can be capable partners.

Today’s fathers are different

Research shows fathers are more physical with their children. We might push them to take more risks. We also might do less housework, be the “fun” parent, and be more strict disciplinarians.

Frankly, we see plenty of dads on all sides of the spectrum — from the dad who totes around a paring knife and cutting board so fruits and vegetables are prepared at the ready to the dad who doesn’t cook at all and is fine with store-bought snacks. We see the handy dad who turns a milk carton and popsicle sticks into a birdhouse, and dads who pay their building’s super to put together the new toy kitchen. We see the dads who hover over their children as they move from one rung to the next on the monkey bars and dads who encourage their children to scale a 10-foot-high park fence. In our experience, modern dads don’t care about these misconceptions about whether we do it the same or different.

Bottom line? Children benefit from being exposed to various parenting styles. Feel free to find your rhythm, go with your gut, and embrace your differences.

Photo: © opolja / Adobe Stock.

Thirty-seven words shaped gender equality in the American school sports and education landscape that our kids take for granted today. 

Title IX of the Educational Amendments of 1972, signed into law by President Richard Nixon that summer, reads:

“No person in the United States shall, on the basis of sex, be excluded from participation in, be denied the benefits of, or be subjected to discrimination under any education program or activity receiving federal financial assistance.”

These 37 words seem almost ridiculous to celebrate now. Of course, girls have the same opportunities as boys, right? Even mentioning this legislative initiative to my 13-year-old daughter resulted in her giving me a WTF look. “What? Duh, Dad. Girls can do anything boys can do,” it seemed to say. “Wait, that was actually a thing back then?”

Yes, gender inequality was “a thing.” And, as we look at the impact of Title IX over the past 50 years, parents should tell our kids all about it.   

State of gender equality in 1972

While civil rights laws of the 1960s banned gender discrimination in hiring practices, similar protections for female students did not exist. In fact, Title IX originates from concerns about educational — not athletic — opportunities for women. 

At the time of its passage, women made up fewer than half of all undergraduates at federally funded universities. At the graduate school level, they constituted less than 10% of those enrolled at law or medical school. On the athletic fields, only 4% of females played sports at college levels. Addressing these gender inequalities in school sports became Title IX’s most pervasive legacy.

Title IX and sports

If our daughters were magically transported to the early 1970s, they would see field of play far different than what they experience now. 

For instance, according to the Women’s Sports Foundation:

• Boys had 10 times the athletic opportunities in high school as girls
• Fewer than 30,000 females played a sport at a college level

These are, in my daughter’s terms, “WTF” stats. These are what we should tell our kids about to show how far we’ve come because of Title IX. 

According to most recent data, nearly 3 million more opportunities exist for girls to play school sports post-Title IX. As a result, now 44% of collegiate athletes are women and 60% of high school girls play a sport. 

As I raise my daughters, I never consider the availability of athletic opportunities an issue for them because they have the chance to join any sport they choose. This would have been impossible without Title IX.

Title IX and the myth of lost opportunities for boys

A myth exists that Title IX has hurt our sons. In fact, parents may have heard Title IX talked about in relation to a situation where teams were impacted because of a lack of availability to female students. This may be when a school has a boys’ wrestling team, but none for girls. Or, it may be when it offers girls’ volleyball but no corresponding opportunity for boys. Let’s be very clear: the opportunities and resources available to our sons still exceeds those provided to our daughters – particularly in sports at all levels. 

A recent report by the NCAA shows that while participation ratios have narrowed significantly, the dollars spent on male sports is twice that of female sports at the Division I level. At the Division II level, the sum is still 25% higher. During the past 20 years, males gained 73,000 participation opportunities while females gained 67,000. 

The criticism that Title IX has hurt boys’ sports is, simply, false.      

More work remains for true gender equality

Given the quantum leaps Title IX has made for equality in the past half century, far more remains to be done. This is where our kids can affect the future.

As Title IX turns 50, the protections of transgender athletes from discrimination must be addressed. While a complicated issue with political, social and religious veins, the treatment of biology as it relates to the activities available for participation must be addressed. 

The scope of Title IX is likely to expand to how sexual discrimination cases are handled. On the table for potential changes are presumption of innocence and burden of proof mandates – both amended during the Trump administration. 

So, while Title IX has been a resounding success, there are more issues it can help solve. As parents, we should not allow the tangled, highly politicized future of Title IX to shadow its monumentally successful past. 

My daughter’s dismissive “duh” reaction to me reminding her of the effort it took to create a girls’ soccer program should not go unnoticed. 

The 2021 announcement of the University of Iowa’s female wrestling team – the first for the men’s college wrestling powerhouse – should be celebrated by parents everywhere. 

As my son takes the SAT this fall, I will remind him that he is rightfully competing against everyone – not just the white males that monopolized collegiate undergraduate programs before the 1970s. 

So, parents, let’s wish a loud “Happy Birthday” to Title IX. 

And, just as loudly, let us wish the inequalities it has addressed over its 50-year existence are not a “thing” my sons and daughters will have to explain to their children.

Photo: ©Rawpixel.com / Adobe Stock.

My oldest is now 10. Last year, or maybe it was two years ago, he went to a sleepover birthday party as kids do. At the time, I didn’t think anything of the fact that he was the only boy on the invite list. After the party ended, I forgot it had even happened.

I was at another birthday party a few months ago where the topic was “that party with the boy sleeping over.” The parents were sagely nodding to each other, relieved that one girl just went for the movie and didn’t sleep over. According to the group wisdom, her parents had done well.

“Uh, yeah,” I finally said. “That one boy there was my son.”

I was surprised mixed gender sleepovers would be whispered-about elementary school scandal. I honestly don’t see the risk at that age. I can imagine what parents might be worried about, but really? They’re 8- and 9-year-olds. There are parents actively hosting the party. Nothing is going to happen. Especially in our town of Berkeley, Calif., known for its liberal social and political views, where almost all of these kids have been socialized to have friends of both genders. This town is supposedly liberal and woke. My son isn’t even thinking about crushes yet, let alone anything physical.

These parents were even more surprised when I told them my mom let me have mixed gender sleepovers … in high school. The positive socialization aspect of boys seeing girls as viable friends and not just as potential hookups are why my mom, and the parents of my friends, didn’t care about our slumber parties. They knew we were friends. I’m still friends with all of them today. If we’re trying to create a world where men treat women as equals rather than only as objects of desire, we need to drop the taboos we put on their social interaction. We need to let them be friends.

There’s more, though. All your fears about mixed gender sleepovers assume your kids are straight.

Same-sex sleepovers and assumptions

Whatever you’re worried about kids doing at slumber parties doesn’t magically disappear for LGBTQ kids. Every parent I know at our school would be fine if their kids were gay, but I wonder what that would mean for their views on slumber parties. It seems like an unexamined aspect of parenting LGBTQ kids. A lot of kids seem to know their orientation at an early age and, especially where I live, they are more likely to talk about or acknowledge the existence and validity of same-sex relationships.

So if your 8-year-old son tells you he’s gay, what do you do about slumber parties? Only send him to parties with girls? Or just with straight boys? Is either really a rational approach? Should you approach things any differently than you would with your cishet (cisgender and heterosexual) son?

No. The fact is, you should trust your children to be children. And if you don’t, maybe it’s time to examine how you’ve parented them. Have you contributed to oversexualizing your children in ways that you’re not aware of?

My other question is this: If people are worried about co-ed sleepovers at this age, what does my transgender child do? Attend only sleepovers with children of the gender they were assigned at birth or with their gender identity? What if the child is gender fluid? No sleepovers at all?

My hope is that my trans child can sleep over wherever xe’s invited. And I hope those invitations come from friends of every gender.

We need to examine our own filters and realize that our fears for our children don’t always align with reality. My young son isn’t a predator, and your young daughter isn’t a harlot. My 8-year-old trans child doesn’t have internet access and is not yet steeped in hookup culture. If xe’s hanging out with your son or daughter, xe just wants to play make-believe or maybe Candy Land. Kids are innocent, and we shouldn’t intrude on that with our own fears or misguided jokes about their relationships with people of other genders. If you’re really parenting your kids, you should be able to trust them to hang out with their friends no matter how they identify.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Roberto Santiago could never decide on a job so he endeavors to have all of them. He is a writer, teacher, sign language interpreter, rugby referee and stay-at-home dad. He writes about the intersections of family, sports and culture at An Interdisciplinary Life.

Mixed gender sleepovers photo: © nimito / Adobe Stock.

Author’s note: In this Pride Month article, “queer” is used as an umbrella term for people with a range of genders and sexual orientations who are not cisgender, or cis — a person whose gender identity corresponds with the sex the person had or was identified as having at birth — or straight. In this way, a word that historically was used against LGBTQ+ people has been reclaimed by us.

Instilling a sense of pride in our children is a responsibility many parents work to fulfill.

For our family, in which my wife and I both identify as queer, that includes our children being proud of their queer trans papa and queer cis mama. Together, we make a proud queer family.

During the month of June, recognized nationally as LGBTQ Pride Month, this means bringing out the box o’ bling so we can put on activist buttons and rainbow flags as we get ready to go to the Boston Pride Parade — a major holiday at our house.

This year it meant not just watching the Pride Parade, but marching in it with the Grand Marshal, whose contingent focused on the intersections of oppression and giving voice to many who were not present.

My children, ages 2.5 years old and 6 months old, are not going to remember marching at this year’s parade. They also have not yet had to answer any intrusive questions about our family and how they came to be born. They haven’t had to defend themselves against transphobia and homophobia regardless of how they end up identifying themselves. I know those days will come and my wife and I are working now to equip our children by raising them culturally queer and proud.

We believe it’s important they be part of a community in which they regularly interact with other children who share some of the joys and challenges of being raised in a queer family. These children, like mine, share the good fortune of being wanted so desperately that their parents were willing to go to great expense and effort to bring them into this world. This is why my wife and I feel so fortunate to have an extended queer family in Boston. These “aunties” have been in my life for over a decade and many of them are now raising children of their own.

Support resources for children of LGBTQ parents

Many LGBTQ people raised children before these more open days. Initially, many of these children were from previous heterosexual marriages, then same-sex adoption became more common. With the advent of in vitro fertilization (IVF) and other forms of artificial insemination, more and more babies are being born directly to LGBTQ parents. For more than a decade now, these children of queer parents have come to identify themselves as “queerspawn.” This unique identity has nothing to do with their own gender or sexuality. It’s an identity based on being raised within a queer culture — the rainbow and glitter-filled Pride days of joy along with the dark ones filled with probing questions and bullying from outsiders.

Our community now has queerspawn and a “second generation” (those children who also identify as queer based on their sexuality) who are well into their 20s and 30s. Those early pioneers often had to fight for acceptance within the LGBTQ communities on college campuses and, despite generally more accepting attitudes across the nation, many children of queer parents still feel a bit like they live between two worlds.

They also feel forgotten. The LGBTQ community often speaks about and provides resources for the parents of queer children, but rarely does it acknowledge the children of queer parents. Fortunately, children of LGBTQ parents do have ways they can find each other and the unique support they need.

The nonprofit organization COLAGE, according to its website, “unites people with lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and/or queer parents into a network of peers and supports them as they nurture and empower each other to be skilled, self-confident, and just leaders in our collective communities.”

Formed in 1990, “COLAGE grew out of a need for a kids-only space, separate from parent-run LGBTQ support groups,” wrote Elizabeth Collins, leader of the Los Angeles chapter, in a VICE article. “Because of the critical fight for gay rights in this country, many queerspawn have felt a burden to be ‘poster children;’ COLAGE provides a space where kids can discuss their families without judgment. It also gives them the opportunity to meet others in similarly unique family structures.”

One such opportunity is Family Week in Provincetown, Massachusetts. For more than 20 years, this week-long event COLAGE has done in partnership with the Family Equality Council lets LGBTQ families connect, learn and support each other. With more than 50 events to choose from, there is something for everyone including lots of programming for children of LGBTQ parents. This year’s event is July 28-August 4.

As an openly trans dad, I’m especially excited COLAGE has developed a Kids of Trans Resource Guide — “the first and only guide written by and for people who have trans parents” — and has a private Facebook group for people with trans parents.

Keshet is another national organization providing events for LGBTQ families. While their focus is LGBTQ Jewish families, their Parent & Family Connection chapters around the country welcome families of all faiths or even without a faith tradition. If there isn’t a group in your area, you’re encouraged to start your own and Keshet provides the resources and support to make that happen.

If you’re reading this and you’re thinking, “I’m not gay, but I think my child might be” then you should know about PFLAG. This national organization with more than 400 chapters around the country is committed to helping parents of LGBTQ youth become more supportive and accepting because this is critical to a child’s health and well-being.

Thank you for taking the time to learn about the organizations supporting children of LGBTQ parents. Together, we are raising strong and resilient children. That’s something every parent can take pride in.

All photos courtesy of Robbie Samuels.

I sometimes feel I write ad nauseum about how much tougher at-home dads have it compared to at-home moms.

Not because of the difficulty with the job itself, although I guess you could say women are still often “groomed” for it in a lot of ways from a young age whereas men typically have a much steeper learning curve. Rather, I mean in regards to what sorts of resources are available, and how much support and understanding one gets in choosing to stay home with a child. At-home dads have come a long way, definitely, but we have much further to go.

However, today I’d like to talk about another of the Great Untold Perks of daddyhood (the first perk being naps):

Dads get far more praise for doing far less than moms

Stay-at-home dads certainly see and experience this most often, but really it’s true of all dads. If you’re out in public, taking an active role in caring for your child (particularly an infant or toddler), someone is watching and thinking you’re awesome.

It doesn’t even have to be anything particularly above and beyond the call of duty, either:

• Have your baby strapped to you in a sling or carrier? Adorable.
• Patiently feeding applesauce to a squirming toddler? You rock!
• Offering to change a poopy diaper? Someone is likely to ask your wife if you have a brother.

While it’s true that seeing a dad in a restaurant tote a stinky baby off to change a diaper can seem like a rare (and praiseworthy) occurrence, dads are as likely to get an approving smile for simply kissing a boo-boo in public.

When I take one of my sons grocery shopping with me (which is pretty much every time we buy groceries), I constantly have people who see us and tell me they think it’s great how I’ve taken on this extra burden to give my wife a break. Or they’ll comment on how I’m “babysitting,” but that’s another blog post …

Appreciation is nice, but a bit condescending

It’s great someone appreciates me being an involved parent or doing things many are happy to take a pass on, but it can feel like it only comes because, frankly, so little is expected of dads. These compliments are a double-edged sword, because the truth is we only get this easy praise because the bar has been set extremely low.

I don’t just mean that in regard to the legitimate epidemic of absent, distant, or uninvolved fathers, either. My own father is and was always a wonderful dad, but I probably changed more diapers in the first week after my first son was born than he did in total after raising three kids. It just wasn’t expected of him. Now, I’m happy to do it, but I won’t pretend there are not times my nose becomes particularly poor at what it does in hope my wife will deal with a poopy diaper. (Let it never be said guys are not excellent at gladly passing on the opportunity to do something if we think someone else will do it instead.)

For millions of hard-working moms, on the other hand, the day-to-day work of taking care of both the kids and the home is simply assumed. Breakfast in bed and a card on Mother’s Day is sometimes as close to being really appreciated as they are going to get, much of the time. Random comments from strangers are less likely to be praise for a job well done because they tend to see a mom being a mom. Even though there is a definite understanding among moms about how hard their jobs are, I’m sure meaningful encouragement and recognition of a job well done are far more rare than you’d think.

No parent is in it for a trophy, but let’s face it: the bar for being a “SuperDad” is pretty low. The bar for being “SuperMom” is set really, really, impossibly high.

So, next time you see a dad doing something that strikes you as going above and beyond, certainly feel free to praise him for it. Encourage him to keep on being a great dad. But save some of that praise for the moms who do it every day with little appreciation.

A version of this first appeared on The Full Routy. ‘Superbaby, SuperMom’ photo by Valeria Zoncoll on Unsplash

My 5-year-old daughter and I had just buckled into the car, headed home after a morning playground adventure in Philadelphia when the questions started flowing.

After we go somewhere, I like to talk to her about what we just did and ask her about her favorite and least favorite parts. Call it an exit interview of sorts that helps me learn more about who she is becoming and be a better parent for her.

I began with the highlight of the day and worked my way toward what she didn’t enjoy, which is when she gleefully screamed “NOTHING!” and pumped her arms into the air. Then there was a pause and some silence followed by a much heavier question directed back at me.

“Daddy, what is hate?”

My stomach dropped. I gripped the wheel tighter. My gut reaction, since we had been at a playground, was an unseen interaction maybe behind the rock wall or while she waited for a slide out of my line of sight. Did another child say something to her?

I asked her, “Why did you want to know? Did someone say it to you?” She was quiet so I assumed the worst.

I was relieved to find it came from a show she was watching on the iPad where the character expressed her disgust while doing household chores. The offending phrase was “I hate doing the dishes!” but never hearing that publicly from her parents, I could see the reason why she wouldn’t understand the ire behind doing a required task.

Too strong a word even for dishes

How quick was I to think the worst and to become angry and defensive? How quick it was that I had turned to hate. To hate something like doing the dishes should be replaced by “I dislike doing the dishes.” Hate is a word that my daughter should not know to describe anything. Hate is too strong a word even for dishes.

This had me thinking. In this increasingly violent world, children need to learn more about love than hate. In this world today, hate is a thing we are quick to act on. We assume the worst in people instead of the best.

Love takes time. Hate is too easy. We turn hate on like the flick of a switch or, all too often, the trigger of a gun.

Hate is fueled by misconceptions and a lack of acceptance for people who look, act or seem different from us. Racism, bigotry and hate run deep in our own country’s government. A government that is supposed to be setting the example for freedom and equality for the people and by the people.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal. It’s a lie. Equality is a farce. Women don’t get paid the same as men. People are profiled because of the color of their skin or where they were born. We automatically assume the worst without ever knowing what is in their heart.

Black men are gunned down daily because the automatic assumption is that they are a threat. A sudden movement can mean your life and they have to live theirs in fear of the very people that should be protecting them. I can’t imagine what it must feel like, to see a patrol car behind you and wonder, “Is this the day I am going to die?”

We have a president who hates. He wants to keep us separated into neat piles like a picky child’s plate separated by walls of intolerance and fear. He’s wrong. When we come together in love and respect, we create a whole new flavor. If your first instinct is to assume the worst in people, our country will never be unified.

All you need is love. Love is all you need.

Love too often comes with a price

When I think back to a time when I felt like there was an outpouring of love, it always seems to come with a price. The attack on September 11th was meant to divide the country but made it stronger. Not because of hate or a lashing out in anger when we retaliated but because of love. People have a tendency to show their humanity when they realize that it is fragile. There wasn’t a divide in race, age or sex. We helped everyone and anyone no matter what they looked like because they were just people. People trying to come together as a nation and survive an attack, one of the most horrific attacks on our home soil.

Yet despite our ability to come together and persevere together beyond age or race or any other characteristic that defines our outside selves, our walls eventually were put back up. Walls are not the answer. Only when walls come down will love grow in our hearts.

I don’t want my children to grow up ignorant. I don’t want them to hate first and ask questions later. I want them to see the good in people and accept that hate is never the answer. I don’t want their first instinct to be distrust as we’ve come too far as a country to regress to that. Hate is too easy. Love takes time and it’s time well spent.

I decidedly put my daddy bear claws away and told my daughter that that word should never be uttered when it came to people. I asked her how she would feel if someone said it to her.

“If someone said they hated me, I would be sad,” she said.

There is truth in the old Jedi mantra that hate is the path to the dark side. I’ve walked that path before and it leads nowhere. There will be many things she will dislike in her life. There will be people who will wrong her and she will feel hurt, and as much as we will want to hate them, hate serves no purpose in this life.

Love more, hate less. Be compassionate. Be helpful. Lift others up when they are too far down to get back up. This is how we love and when that four-letter word “hate” rears its ugly head, replace it with love instead.

A version of this first appeared on DadNCharge. Photo by Jerry Kiesewetter on Unsplash

Editor’s Note: This article by Chris Brandenburg of our Twin Cities Dads Group explains why and how he got one of the largest pediatric health systems in the country to change its system so stay-at-home parents are no longer classified as “unemployed” in its admission systems.

“She can hear, but it’s like hearing underwater,” the specialist said.

The ear infections had taken their toll on my daughter, my family and me. To see my bright little girl in pain, to know she was having trouble at school, to know the medicine wasn’t helping — it all led to the correct decision: tubes in her ears. We booked an appointment at the surgery center at Children’s Minnesota Hospital in Saint Paul and waited.

The day we checked my daughter in, my wife and I thought we were ready. Our nervous child, scheduled to have her tonsils and adenoids removed and the tubes placed, played with her doll and sang quietly nearby while the staff, kind and funny, asked us to go over the paperwork.

That’s when I saw it, and my heart sank.

I saw next to my name: “UNEMPLOYED.”

A few days earlier a nice woman from scheduling had asked what my profession was. “Stay-at-home dad,” I proudly replied.

“Oh, that’s nice,” she said. Then, unknown to me at the time, she checked the only box on her input screen that made sense to her. The “UNEMPLOYED” one.

Seeing this at admissions, I felt everything all at once: shocked, angry, confused, upset. But I kept it all in. “Now isn’t the time,” I told myself. Stay composed. I’m here today for my child. This will have to wait.

Slights to stay-at-home parents

As a stay-at-home dad, I have become used to such a slight. I’ve changed the diapers, mixed the formula, and even taught my daughter, August, baby sign language. I’ve read the parenting books. I took the baby to visit family when my wife was tied down at work, all for my daughter. I generally relished being the “Dad at Home.” But in the seven years since my child’s birth, I’ve been called a babysitter. I’ve been asked where my wife was when I ran errands with my girl or took her to appointments where people expressed concern for my “sick” wife (“Uh, she’s at work,” I’d say). That all comes with the territory.

I was on edge that day at the hospital. My daughter had at least five ear infections, two hearing tests, and two trips to the ear-nose-and-throat specialist. Pain medicines, emails from the school nurse, heating pads, antibiotics, failed tests at school from being unable to hear. It had all led us to the surgery at Children’s Minnesota. With my awesome wife, Alea, at my side, I tackled them all. I had taken my kid to every doctor’s appointment she has ever had. On that day, I wasn’t prepared for more. I wasn’t ready for “UNEMPLOYED.”

The good news for my child is the surgeries went well. Children’s Minnesota did an awesome job keeping her in good spirits and managing her pain. When she refused a wheelchair as we left and instead asked, “Will you carry me, Daddy?” I knew all would be well. My daughter was counting on me now, and I had a responsibility to her. My hurt feelings would have to wait until my child fully recovered.

Be Remarkable

When she was, I wrote the one person I hoped could tackle this without controversy: Children’s Hospitals and Clinics of Minnesota CEO Dr. Bob Bonar. I opened with the facts and then reminded him, “Your hospital is committed to children. It is the number one value in your mission statement: Kids First. Further down the list is another value, Be Remarkable,” I wrote. To me, that describes stay-at-home parents perfectly. We are committed to kids first, and we try to do the “Be Remarkable” part every day with them. We sacrifice careers, salaries, and sometimes even our sanity to raise our children in a way we think will benefit them. I asked him to help. To help challenge gender role stereotypes, to end the stigma of being a stay-at-home parent. I was asking his organization to Be Remarkable.

After a while, Dr. Bonar responded with what I had hoped he would say: “We have been working on correcting that problem.” He explained that their financial software had billing based on insurance and collection status with only one option for individuals who do not work outside of the home. That software didn’t give Children’s employees any option for recognizing a stay-at-home parent. That is, until my concern prompted him to contact the right people who finally added the option. Now, when a stay-at-home dad or mom calls the hospital to register their child, he or she enters the system with an appropriate title.

Is it a huge change? Does this additional option help doctors and nurses heal patients better? No. In the grand scheme of things, though, this small change can make a difference.

Most stay-at-home parents won’t realize they are now being classified correctly, but going forward they will simply know that Children’s Minnesota knows and cares about who they are. That Children’s Minnesota is open to making such small but meaningful changes tells me they really care about their goal of being remarkable. On behalf of stay-at-home parents, I want to thank Dr. Bob Bonar and Children’s Minnesota for listening and acting.

About the author

Chris Brandenburg is a husband, stay-at-home father and co-founder of Twin Cities Dads Group. He believes that to build strong communities, you need strong families and strong dads.