A Mommy Story

So today Aaron was ready to hand in his parenting badge and quit. On a long drive we had a conversation of short, annoyed sentences with long silences inbetween each. During this conversation, I learned that Aaron felt like he will never be able to do anything simply again because we have a child. Everything takes more work, and half the time we don’t get to do what we want because we have a baby. While I realize it had been a tough weekend for him (he got some daddy-daughter time both mornings while I was out working or volunteering), I admit I was surprised by what he said.

He told me that all we did this weekend was made incredibly difficult because Cordy had to be considered. We went to lunch with his father on Saturday in a market that can only be described as a zoo, and had to restrain a cranky toddler while begging her to eat something more than goldfish crackers and the napkin. He wanted to drive two hours to visit friends and game with them (staying the night), but couldn’t because I needed him to watch Cordy this morning while I was volunteering. And we agonized over going to a holiday party today because we weren’t sure how Cordelia would handle it (and, for the record, she threw her best tantrum yet for the entire party, then spit up all over me, prompting an early exit).

OK, maybe I can see his point a little. But part of me was also angry at him. “Kids are work! Kids require you to be selfless!” I said to myself over and over, but I didn’t voice these comments for fear of setting off a big fight (I hate confrontation, especially over dumb crap like this). Part of me wanted to say, “Well, tough, you can’t give her back now, so shut up and deal with it.” I didn’t understand his frustration, because it doesn’t affect me that strongly.

Why do I seem to handle the crimp put on our social life more than him? Can it be something deep down in the mommy genetic code that makes a woman more capable of being less selfish and doing whatever needs to be done for her child? I’m not saying I don’t long for the way it was from time to time. I miss hanging out with friends, going to the movies or dinner at the last minute, and sleeping in until 10am (oh, how I miss sleeping in until 10am!). But I don’t get angry about it, and certainly not at Cordy. I know it’s all part of the parent deal – a cute, loving, pain-in-the-ass and inconveniencing child. I’ve come to terms with the fact that arranging a date night involves consulting the schedules of all of our friends and family, balancing that against what movies are showing and what time Cordy will go to bed, charting the phase of the moon and synchronizing watches. It’s more work, but we still get to go out every now and then.

Luckily, Aaron’s trip to the “pity me” party didn’t last all that long, and on the way home from the holiday party we both peeked into the back seat and our hearts melted looking at our little angel, sleeping peacefully snoring loudly in the backseat. I think it was just a moment of weakness for him – he is a good daddy and I don’t think he would give up his little girl for anything.