Last week, I wrote a post about five parental superpowers I possess that my husband is lacking. This street runs two ways. After seven years and counting as parents, it’s become very apparent that my husband has some parental superpowers of his own that I lack.
In no particular order, those superpowers include…
The ability to do bedtime without losing his sh-t.
At first glance, this may not seem like a parental superpower, but it definitely is.
My children go to bed at 8:00 pm, and at least one of them (if not all three) is up-and-at-em by 6:00 am. I’m a stay-at-home mom, so that’s 14 hours of uninterrupted mommy-kid time. Apparently, my threshold for that kind of bonding is actually somewhere around 12-13 hours. By bedtime, I can’t take it anymore!
It may be just a few minutes, but waiting for my kids to brush their teeth or complete a look-and-find book feels torturous and Drill Sergeant Mommy emerges (“Brush!” “Potty!” “Flush!” “Move, move, move!”). When I manage to do bedtime without being mean-mommy, it’s because I have plastered a fake Stepford Smile on my face and am filtering every single syllable from my mouth through a strainer of fake-pleasantry.
Meanwhile, Dad handles bedtime like a boss and can typically manage multiple delays like a sane human being. Not surprisingly, the kids always whine when it’s Mommy’s turn to do bedtime (mommy whines too, but I whine–and then wine–on the inside).
Tune out the children saying, “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”
If there were a best-filterer award, my husband would win it. My kids can call him repeatedly, and he genuinely will not hear it.
He usually notices somewhere around the 7th or 8th time, when either the children’s cries have reached a glass-breaking fever pitch, or I snap and yell “PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF THE LAND, ANSWER THEM!
And in the middle of the night? Apparently that house-shaking snore that hubby is rocking only magnifies this special parental superpower of his. Fantastic.
Grocery shop with all three kids, drama-free.
I hate grocery shopping with my kids. Hate Hate Hate!
Someone always cries (usually me), I frequently forget something important (even with a list), and we typically make some kind of a scene (three small boys have a knack for that). Such a trip requires a preemptive triple-application of deodorant because the stress of it all usually makes me sweat through at least one layer of clothing.
My husband doesn’t experience any of this. In fact, he’d prefer to take the kids shopping rather than staying home with them. It’s madness. Granted, he usually buys them a donut and purchases a toy, two things known to prompt compliance in our kids, but still. Advantage, Dad.
You wouldn’t think this would be a thing, but, apparently, it is. My middle son still requires some assistance in this area and he has made his preference crystal clear: he wants Daddy to wipe him.
This is unfortunate, since Daddy is at work for 90% of the household poop incidents, but the other 10%? That’s all Dad. And let me just say, you know what’s a bit of a blow to the ego? Being told, in no uncertain terms, that you are not worthy enough to wipe someone else’s butt.
The ability to wash, dry, and fold laundry on the same day.
Our fraternity house generates a lot of laundry. When my husband does a load of laundry, he does it all at once, more or less.
When I do a load, it can take me days, because I have to account for the re-washing of the mildewy clothes I forgot in the washing machine and the re-drying of the wrinkly clothes that I left in the dryer.
Worth noting: hubby is also very good at adding the laundry detergent to the washer before the cycle is finished running; I have been sidetracked and missed this step more times than I can count.
It’s great to have someone who complements your strengths and weaknesses because parenting is a 24-7-365-Forever gig. Between hubby’s parental superpowers and mine, we’re well on our way to a successful household. Really, all we need to do is add a few sister wives (preferably ones who like to cook and clean) and we’ll have a complete parental package!