Partner bashing (in my case, husband bashing, though it’s not limited to heterosexual couples by any means) is one of my biggest pet peeves. I notice it happens a lot in mom groups; women get together and complain loudly about their husbands.
I recognize the importance of venting, but is it ever too much?
I was visiting my brother who is a new step-parent to four children, three of whom are boys. He had decided to give all three of the boys buzz cuts for the summer. The oldest, who is 14, was protesting this and wanted to keep his hair his usual length. My brother, an admittedly more old skool type of guy, insisted on the haircut despite his stepson’s request.
I wanted to say something about body autonomy, but resisted the urge. How do you think I should have handled that situation?
Being a dwarf parent has its own challenges, as I do some things differently in comparison to an average height person. There are also situations where I cannot always manage. Often I can be hard on myself and feel down about the fact I wish I could do more in the way of being able to pick Zelda up and carry her around when needed. I’m blessed to have my wife’s patience, as she reassures me that I am doing enough.
Here are a few things that we do to make it easier on everyone…
“Taking one for the team”… “Vasec-Tommy”… “Can’t spell vasectomy without team” Yep, when there’s no push present because you’ve chosen to be childfree, sometimes you make t-shirts with the slogans above as part of your “snip gift” extravaganza. Our sales manager chica, Tiff, did just this for her husband and we’ve got the deets on how to make vasectomy day a much better day than it could be otherwise.
I’m beginning to have an understanding of what my father felt when he came home after working all day, grabbed our baseball mitts, and stepped into my room to ask if I wanted to play catch. He would usually find me on the floor of my room, in the midst of a galactic battle between good and evil, Empire and Rebellion. Now that I’m a father, I find myself with two young daughters who have the same view of their father as their grandfather once held.
At this point I was feeling pretty good about myself and the conversation. I felt I’d taken a stand for equal rights and promised to defend my daughters’ reproductive rights. I was feeling much like a bona fide father of the year candidate when I was blind sided by the next question. “So, how do they get in there then?” she asked.