“I can certainly tell Daddy dressed you today,” the mother said to her toddler with disgust as she performed a diaper change in the restaurant bathroom.
“He can’t even get matching right. And let’s not even get started on your hair.”
I overheard this before I was a mother myself. At the time, I thought it was sad that this woman was so hard on her husband. That she should be glad he was pitching in to care for his child — as he should — while so many other women complain their partners do not. I judged her, convinced I would never act that way once I was a mother.
Want to Guess How That Worked Out?
My husband and I became parents 10 years into wedded bliss. It was hard on our marriage. Really hard. We fought all the time. We were angry all the time.
And it turns out that the problem was with me. (Although, at the time, I was convinced it was with him.)
Like the mom in that restaurant bathroom, I faulted every move he made with our daughter. I just couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that this precious little girl was “OURS.” I’d wanted to be a mom for so long, and was convinced that there was no possible way he could love that little girl as much as I did. I was the Mama, and she was my baby. I was convinced I was the only one who knew what was best for her. My love for her became so intense that I thought of her as “MINE.”
I constantly hovered and intervened whenever he interacted with our little girl. I told him what to say and how to say it. If he had an idea, I’d shrug it off, or cut him off. I was angry that he didn’t automatically do things the “right” way. My way. The only way I saw fit.
As a result, he felt hurt and frustrated. And this went on for years.
I was getting exhausted from trying to take care of every tiny detail all the time. I found myself feeling really resentful and grumpy because I didn’t have more help — even though all I did was criticize and reject my husband when he did. We fought a lot, and drifted apart. But I still didn’t change my ways.
The realization occurred one day when our daughter got sick at day camp. They couldn’t reach me so they called my husband to come pick her up. She had a 103 degree fever and was sobbing inconsolably when he got to her.
I rushed home as soon as I got the message after the meeting. By then, he’d already called the pediatrician and gotten her calmed down. When I walked in, I found them sitting on the couch, eating popsicles and watching Disney Channel together.
He handled it.
She was fine. He was fine. They were both fine. And that’s when it hit me: my little girl needed a relationship with her father, and my always handling everything was getting in everyone’s way, including my daughter’s.
How I Changed
Here’s what my husband and I did to make this change happen — and stick:
- I gave them time together. This started with small periods of time, and I often had to leave the house to keep from interfering.
- They found their “thing.” He taught her to swim, something I’m not very good at.
- We worked on listening, discussing, and compromising. Shifting from “my child” to “our child” meant I needed to really hear and consider my husband’s thoughts. I realized he loved her just as much as I did. I also realized I was sometimes flat out wrong and he was right.
- I stopped correcting his parenting. I let them develop their relationship in their own way without butting in any time I thought he was letting her get away with too much, being too harsh or misunderstanding the situation. I realized he didn’t have to get it perfect to be a fantastic dad (and that I sure wasn’t a perfect mom) and that there was more than one way to parent.
- We made more “couple time.” My husband and I forgot about our relationship when we became parents. Even now that she’s older and doesn’t go to bed as early, she knows 8:00 is her “room time” because Mom and Dad have a standing date. There’s a lot of Netflix watching and ice cream in bed. (Still a version of “Netflix and Chill,” right? )
It was a slow process, but we eventually worked through it. Our daughter is almost sixteen now, and she and her father have an amazing relationship.
And my husband and I do, too.
Rachael Moshman lives in Florida with her husband, daughter, four cats, one dog and a mannequin named Vivian. She blogs about her journey to lose weight, live healthier and be a good role model for body positivity on her blog, www.shrinkingmomster.com. She’s written for parenting magazines across the U.S. and on four continents, and appears regularly on dozens of websites, includingScary Mommy, Mamalode and Piccolo Universe. Her loves include binge watching TV series with her husband, having adventures with her teenage daughter, the colors hot pink and lime green and clipping recipes that she’ll never actually cook. She loves to chat so reach out to her on Twitter @rachaelmoshman.
