Fatherhood - the other F-word

Why is it that when a mother is pushing a kid in a stroller no one bothers give her a second thought yet when a father is out with his kid in a stroller he gets comments like Is Daddy babysitting today? If a woman takes her kid down to the mailbox to greet the mailman does the mailman hand her the mail with a smile and say Are you playing Mrs. Dad today? I didn't think so. Why is it then that our country can fathom electing a woman for president yet can't grasp the concept of a dad taking care of his kids?

My last babysitting gig was over several waist sizes ago and probably took place while Reagan was in office. Calling me Mr. Mom not only demeans what I do everyday but it also demeans what my wife does everyday. I know we might roll differently than you do in your family, but you know what? When my wife and I sat down to decide what was in the best interest of our household, we didn't consult you. If you see me out with my daughter I'm not babysitting her. I'm parenting her.

Even though it goes beyond emasculation (denigrating fatherhood to a high schooler who snoops through cupboards and eats from the fridge), I am not so much insulted by the babysitting comment as I am baffled by it. Does no one see the grossness in this? It's as though people who say it expect fathers to impregnate and disappear. And people wonder why so many babies are born out of wedlock? I'm not trying to alibi for so-called deadbeat dads, but maybe we need to start pointing the finger at the man in the mirror instead of the one on the Montel Williams Who's My Baby's Daddy episode.

I used to be a member of a list serve for at-home dads until I got sick of guys complaining that they and their kids weren't welcome into certain playgroups. A handbook written for at-home dads even has a letter from a guy offering advice and one of his suggestions is to not get bent out of shape when people call you Mr. Mom. But enough is enough already. It's insulting, yes, but the worst part is that people don't understand why.

The deep end is nigh and I can see myself going off it, so allow me to instead direct your attention to Mom-101 who's said it beautifully in the past. That post features a picture of her first daughter, who has a dad who stays home with her, almost two years ago. If you scan forward in her blog to present day you'll see there are more recent pictures of her, and begosh and begorrah, the kid looks like she turned out okay. Recently Denguy from Toronto responded here to two articles he found online talking about the sordid mystery surrounding at-home fatherhood and I think some similar frustration was voiced there.

Now to the defense of others I will say that although its not how we roll at our house, I do understand a presumption of a father who goes to work and a mother who stays home. That's how my siblings and I grew up, and it worked out well that way. Same goes for my wife. In the handbook I mentioned earlier in fact there's a dedication to the contributing fathers' own mothers who they say taught them how to do what they do. I would concur with that also. If I hadn't had a mother who was as effective as mine was, I don't think I would have been able to take on the role that I am right now.

My mother taught me the importance of things like reading to my child and engaging her imagination. I also credit my mother when I hear myself saying things like Look, it's 3:30 and I still haven't gotten this house clean yet and it's raining so traffic's going to be terrible and your mother's going to be in a bad mood when she gets home and I have no idea what I should make for dinner. I also usually add something like so quit screaming but I don't give my mom credit for that one. Maybe that comes from my dad's side.

You know what though? As annoying as it is to me, I'm not going to change the nation's attitude toward fatherhood in a single blog post and besides that it's now 3:30. It's not raining, but even still I've got to make the bed, get this kid a fresh diaper, and pull out our tax stuff because tonight's the night Elaine and I are going to try and figure out how we're going to put the fuck to the taxman. Come to think of it, this marks the first time I've used the F-word in my blog, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Fatherhood is not just for Michael Keaton anymore.