Pass the Aggressive, Please
I'm totally guilty of passive-aggressive parenting. When I'm wearing three layers and a blanket while huddled up in front of the fireplace and then I see Simon has dressed Wombat for the day in nothing but a short-sleeved onesie and BabyLegs, do I silently note the situation and then just put pants and a sweater on the kid and leave it at that? OH NO. I turn into a person who says shit like "Look at you, little guy! You must be so cold in nothing but a short-sleeved onesie and BabyLegs! Who dressed you today, huh?"
Of course, about two seconds after I've said this, or something like it, I feel like the world's biggest jerk, every damn time, and yet I still haven't gotten the hang of catching myself before I've turned into That Person, and I'm fairly certain this is one of those times where it's not enough to merely acknowledge I have a problem. No. I need to fix this.
When it comes to other people and their children, however, I'm proud to say that becoming a mother didn't instantaneously infuse me with the desire to tell everyone else how to parent. Different Strokes: It's not just a sitcom but a way of life! (Although I did get super judgy (but silently so!) about the glut of infants I saw on Halloween with giant suckers plugging their suck-holes. Yes, I get it, it's Halloween, kids are supposed to eat candy, but when the kid in question is eight months old and doesn't know why in hell he's dressed like a bloated elephant in the first place, I really don't think you're going to destroy his golden childhood by withholding the candy until he has, say, more than four teeth. AM I RIGHT? (Yes, I am, but that doesn't mean I said any of this out loud, because Not My Kid, Not My Problem.))
So, this is different from the drive-by stranger assvice we all love and cherish so, because in those cases, no one has any business telling anyone else how to care for their own children (and I'm talking about relatively innocent things like kids not wearing hats or socks, not, like, driving them around in a smoke-filled car without seatbelts while listening to Marilyn Manson on an iPod turned up to 11), but in this case, with my own kid, it's absolutely my business. Some might say it's my duty, even if it means interfering on the small matter of whether my son is wearing a jacket or not on a "perfectly nice day," or whether he eats enough prunes to balance out all those bananas. And anyway, if I'm the one who has to scrub the grass stains out of his pants, shouldn't I be able to nix the wearing of the tiny khakis when they're headed to the park? Ay. The rub. It is there.
The problem lies in that while, yes, I have a say in how my own child is cared for, nowhere is it written that I have veto power over said child's other, equally involved, equally competent parent. Simon is a great dad, seriously great, and he picks up where I slack off in too many ways to count (or that I'm willing to admit here), so it's not like I feel the need to control everything because he's doing a sub-standard job. He's definitely not the bumbling secondary caregiver that made Mr. Mom the smash hit of 1983 and inspired a generation of fish-out-of-water daddytypes, all duct tape and laugh tracks. Simon is a SAHF two full, loooooong days a week, and I have complete faith that Wombat is in the best care possible when they're together, even if I say that while wringing my hands and trying not to go to the dark place where Worst Case Scenarios are born. (OMG, what if they left the house without an extra pair of socks and then *gasp* one goes missing? WHAT THEN?!) This is, of course, ridiculous, as so many of my hangups are, especially considering Simon puts so much thought into what Wombat wears when they go out on the town that on Tuesday he took the following father-son portrait:
Notice how they MATCH, both in guitar shirts and slighty dopey expression.
The problem here, if there is one (and maybe there's not?), is me, I think. When I tell Simon what to do and how to do it, or even if I just sigh and redo something he's already done, the result is inevitably him standing all hangdog under a hand-drawn raincloud and while I loom in the foreground like a giant pile of poo radiating cartoon stink-lines that stretch across state lines. What I'm doing is condescending, rude, and sometimes unnecessary (but certainly not always; it's winter = the kid needs socks), and yet I don't know how to make this better. I mean, I can't do nothing when Wombat's safety and comfort are concerned, right? And Wombat's safety and comfort trump Simon's fragile ego, right? (Sorry, honey!) But is it possible to have it both ways--a happy Wombat (and therefore happy mom) as well as a happy Simon?
I just wish he didn't make it so hard for me to not be a bitch, you know?
(Oh, I'm just AWFUL, aren't I?)
It really is an issue, though, and it bodes ill for our future if something doesn't change. In the last few weeks, Simon has said, "I didn't dress Wombat/put his laundry away/pack the diaper bag because I was sure you'd say I did it wrong." Cue my heart plummeting to my feet and then oozing out the hole in my sock because, GAH, I never want to be responsible for making Simon feel bad. And yet...if he's not dressing Wombat/putting his laundry away/packing the diaper bag correctly, am I supposed to just sit back and let it happen? Even when I'm the one most affected by the fallout? Is there a way out of this loop? Does there even exist a nice way to "correct" a (capable, competent, albeit not very detail-oriented) co-parent without being an A-1 a-hole? Or does Simon need to just suck it up and not take it personally, because that's what you do when you become a parent?
This is such a specific, personal issue that I don't really expect any advice, but hopefully just getting it out there will hold me more accountable in the future. At the very least, this is my way of passive-aggressively apologizing to Simon and promising to do better, because he deserves it, and so does Wombat (and so do I).
I try to sit back and let it happen as much as possible as long as eminent physical harm is not obvious. I TRY. Goodness (and Superman!) knows I'm not very good at it. When you figure out the solution to this, please do share. I can only imagine it just gets worse as the kid gets older.
Hah! On the other peoples parenting choices-last week or so when you posted a pix of wombat joyfully playing at the park with mud soaked knees I thought “And this is how we are different.” Not in a judgey way, but in a boy, what a different parenting style way because I’m always tugging Squidgey to his feet so that he will not tear, stain or otherwise ruin pants and shoes crawling through mud and across concrete. Somehow, I think wombat probably has more fun and wish I could maybe unclench a little there.
But also on some other things…I am judgey. I have a thing, even in the height of summer, about babies without at least socks on out in public. Barefeet just say “redneck” to me. Even wee tiny baby feet. I’m also judgey about toddlers with pacifiers-in the most hypocritical way possible since my 15 m/o still has one, but I’m embarrassed to give it to him out in public.
Which brings us to the coparenting issue, because pacificer use is one of those where my husband refuses to do it my way-I try to limit it to sleep times ONLY, he is happy to cram it in Squidgey’s cryhole 24-7 as a preemptive strike against any possible future fussing. (My way is right, right?) See also-not using hot enough water to wash binkies and bottles…and on and on and on. And it IS hard not to get all pissy about it because god, I’ve told you like 10 times how this should be done, and also, I am right and my way is best for Squidgey. You do feel a bit like a text book wife beater-why do make me hit (get pissy) with you? So no advice here, just commiserating. Let us know when you figure out the secret to balancing getting it done right and not being a miserable Kate Gosselin-like shrew.
My approach to these issues is to let my husband "do it wrong", and hope he learns from the consequences. Consequences being: if the baby isn't dressed warmly enough, she will start to get fussy, etc, and then my husband will be the one to deal with her. If he doesn't pack enough stuff in the diaper bag, then M will be the one who has to make the trip home to go get the needed things, or will be bummed we have to cut the outing short. This is PAINFUL to me, to not correct him before we leave the house, but I'm discovering that M is learning by these "mistakes", if you will, and coming to the same conclusions as I have about how to pack a bag/dress the baby/ ect. This *was not* easy for me to start doing, but I had the same problem as you express above, and got this tip from my mother about how she came to be on the same page as my Dad about baby/kid stuff.
Is there really "fallout" from an improperly packed diaper bag? I guess there could be, but Simon isn't going to know what to bring if you always correct him. I am firmly on the side of "let him figure it out." Otherwise he won't learn, and you'll be a bitch. Everyone loses that way. Not having an extra diaper when you need one or missing a sock for an afternoon really, really aren't big deals.
I've opted for the "if my kid is happy, I'm happy" stance and it works pretty well. My husband often comes back from a walk with a partially-frozen baby, but the baby is all smiles and warms up quickly enough, so where's the harm?
My first kid I acted a lot like you and well, my husband acted a lot like Simon. When my husband dressed our second kid in a long sleeve onesie and nothing else on an 85 degree day and asked me with his big blue eyes if he dressed our daughter well, I replied with "Of course you did honey." My daughter didn't care what she had on as long as she could shove her toes in her mouth.
Sometimes you have to just pick your battles. If it drives you batty, just walk out of the room and count to 10. Simon will learn and Wombat will be just fine.
My first kid I acted a lot like you and well, my husband acted a lot like Simon. When my husband dressed our second kid in a long sleeve onesie and nothing else on an 85 degree day and asked me with his big blue eyes if he dressed our daughter well, I replied with "Of course you did honey." My daughter didn't care what she had on as long as she could shove her toes in her mouth.
Sometimes you have to just pick your battles. If it drives you batty, just walk out of the room and count to 10. Simon will learn and Wombat will be just fine.
Dang, ignore the double post....freaking internet issues....
Oh yes, I am there in the same place and my boyfriend does at time admit that he won't do something because I'll just be mad that he did it wrong. I try not to get like that but sometimes it's hard. I was born and raised with the Good Mommy gene and he does not have the gene. Nor can he, so I just need to let him be the daddy and figure it out along the way.
Nothing but sympathy and empathy from my corner, because I basically live in a parallel universe. I can recognize what an incredible father my husband is to our son, but I still have the compulsion to over correct, chide him and 're-do' everything he does for the kid. It's a fine line; let them do their thing, their way while still maintaining some kind of order. Let me know what you come up with, I could use some ass-vice.
Books--I'm not entirely comfortable with him crawling around in the mud either (because guess who does the laundry?), but it's definitely one of those things I've learned to just let go. Simon says I need to repeat the mantra "These stains will NOT come out," so I can just be pleasantly surprised when they do.
As for letting him do it wrong and learning from his mistakes, yeah...it doesn't really work like that. For me, finding myself out in the world without a diaper or a clean pair of pants or a bottle of sunscreen makes me all anxious and crazy, but for Simon, not so much. He's happy to let Wombat go pantsless if needed, and I think that factors into why he can do things "wrong" again and again and not be bothered by it (or certainly not be bothered enough to change).
When he's on his own for the day with Wombat, I'm happy to let him do things his way and suffer any consequences, but the real trouble happens when we're all going out for the day and I find myself needing to be in charge of the diaper bag and the outfit and the travel gear and the food and EVERYTHING lest I have to deal with a situation HE created. So...yeah. We have a problem. I don't want to have to do everything by myself, but I also don't want to deal with things he does wrong. Dilemma!
(This reminds me of one particular non-shining moment in my life, when Simon left the house for the afternoon without taking any breastmilk (this was before Wombat was eating solids), and when the baby got hungry, he had to borrow a (clean) bottle of formula from a friend. This was the only time Wombat's lips had ever touched formula (he was about 4 months old, I think), and I FLIPPED. And then I felt so, so, so stupid because the problem obviously wasn't Wombat's well-being but my need to have a perfect track record. Which is obviously not a parenting style I wish to follow.)
I feel like a total jackass every time my husband unloads the dishwasher incorrectly and I ask him "You really don't know where the wine glasses go? DO YOU EVEN LIVE HERE?!"
I can only imagine this is going to get worse after Bean is born.
For the record, my ego is not bruised when I am "corrected" (which is code for "she would prefer it done her way"). As far as I'm concerned, it's not a matter of doing it right or wrong, being corrected or letting it be incorrect. It's a different style, and it's different priorities.
I think that a lot of the issues mentioned have to do with an already recognized stylistic life difference between me and Leah. Leah prefers to have planned for every possible contingency, and be prepared for it. I, on the whole, am very good at encountering an unexpected situation, and improvising my way through it. This accounts for the diaper bag thing. If baby and I are out, and the his poo explodes up his back, we'll be fine. I'll wrap him in a blanket, or if he has to go in a diaper and nothing else, I'll turn on the heater in the car. If he gets hungry and I forgot to bring Goldfish, we'll stop and get some food. If he needs to be entertained, we'll stop at a park and play on the swings. Any problem that can be solved with a diaper bag can be solved without a diaper bag.
As for the clothes issues... I was once a little boy, and I got grass stains on the knees of my overalls. They were grass-stained, and it was fine. I am of the opinion that the joy of crawling around on the grass for a half hour trumps the trajedy of the grass-stained knees. In a few months, the overalls will be put in a box and stashed away, only to be pulled out again for child #2, or for the sake of reminiscing. In fact, won't it be better to pull out clothes covered in grass, mud, and food stains - evidence of a happy, active baby? Much more enjoyable than pulling out piles of clothes that look like they came straight from Baby Gap.
And when it comes to putting the Wombat's clothes away, I know from experience, for instance, that if I put dishes away in the way that I would naturally do it, that it will be done over for me. The thing is, if Leah does something differently than the way I would do it, I generally don't really care. So, I let Leah put away the baby clothes so that they will be where she wants them, not where I would put them. If I need to dress the wombat and I don't know where his puppy-dog sweat shirt is, I can search semi-blindly for it or just ask. I'm OK with that.
To summarize for all you readers (and also for the writer), I have no problem with Leah doing things the way she wants. It's easy for me to be flexible, and it's easy for me to let her do pretty much as she wishes. But please recognize that my way isn't wrong, it's just different. Baby is happy and healthy, regardless.
PS. Twenty-five Gold Stars for the lyrical reference. Pretty clever, lady.
Did you just pull this story out of my brain?!
I am similar to you-I struggle with always wanting to point out how I would do a certain task a different way, to maximize efficiency of said task and effort exerted. When my husbands wants thinks it's ok to feed the girl yougurt, a cheese stick, and milk for a snack, I can't help but point out the overload of milk products being put into her poor little digestive system. No one wants to deal with a kid later on who can't go because of her snack. Will she die if I don't say anything? Absolutely not. Will I save her some discomfort and him some frustration dealing with the situation later? Absolutely. Enter internal dilemma.
Yet, I grew up with a borderline OCD mother, so I've been on the other side. The orange juice and milk had assigned spots in the frigde, and there was a right and wrong way to clean the bathroom-because heaven forbid the bathroom was clean, but got to that point the wrong way. I honestly feel this issue led to why my brother, dad (her now ex, hmmm, wonder why) and I have issues with her, even to this day.
It's a constant inner struggle for me. I want to speak out, be helpful, and make my husband's life easier, but I absolutely DO NOT want to make him feel like less of a person or that he is incompetent left to his own. If you figure out how to get there, please let me know.
I don't have a spouse who is in charge for two week days, and so he's 'in charge' on various weekends. Yes, this means we're late for swim lessons and I have to calm myself down as we're getting out the door, but I do it by saying to myself "he's in charge, its ok". That way he learns some things the hard way (too late for swim lessons= no water fun), some things the easy way ("do we have the swim suits and the swim diaper and the towels?"--that's all we need anyway, so its ok for me to ask), and, most importantly, I learn to SHUT THE HELL UP. It can stress up those days but I was stressed anyway and being mean, so it gives us a different structure in which to do stuff. As Simon says, different ways are fine (excepting major baby smacking of course). Even late, no water fun ways. There's always next week.
I have to say - passive aggressive is my MIDDLE NAME and I'm scared for how I might be as a parent.
I am totally guilty of all the same things. I FEEL guilty about all the same things. And basically I've decided unless it is seriously a case of super-serious seriousness, then YES - you let him do it his way, and do it "wrong". Wombat might be cold. Then SImon will realize he's cold and go home and put more clothes on him. The laundry and diaper bag thing? OK, you have to share those things, so try doing them together and figuring out a way you both like. Or one of you will cave and do it the other person's way.
My husband and I still struggle with problems modulating our tones. The harder I try to be calm and rational, the more I sound like a total bitch; if I try to sound nice, I sound condescending. The more he tries to make sure he's not mumbling, the more he sounds like he's shouting at me. Our solution? To stick our tongues out at each other. Oh, we're so mature.
hi kids.
we do the same things. Kilo puts the baby cups in one cabinet, and they go in the other one. I move them later. Kilo doesn't really remember to pack the diaper bag sometimes, so as soon as we get home from an outing, if we've used anything, i just replace it immediately. etc.
but the thing is, I did the 'my way or the highway' thing for a long time (and probably still do, even though I think I don't) and it just stressed me out. So as much as I can, I just think to myself 'ok so she looks like a blind person dressed her' when she goes to nursery some days, but that's the way it goes. And he'll let her go to nursery wearing her armless jacket instead of a proper jacket. But I've made sure she's wearing a cardie, so at least she's not just in shirt sleeves.
So I guess the only thing I can say is that she's 50% his kid too, and while I do realize that I'm not in control of EVERY situation ALL the time, it's nice to have gotten to the point where I've realized (and understand) that she doesn't have 'MEL' branded on her behind as if she was mine like a cow I own. She's someone we made together, and are raising together. And if she's cold/hungry/tired/grumpy, she'll let us know, one way or the other.
And on that no socks/sleeveless onesie/muddy trousers thing: just remember that there are kids all over the world who run around in a heck of a lot less clothing that we could ever imagine. And quite a few of them reach adulthood. As for the muddy trousers/shirt covered with paint: little kid clothes are meant to be utterly and totally destroyed. By paint, play-doh, mud, ink, chalk, food, and anything else you can imagine. Kids don't learn to experience the world around them by staying clean and tidy. As a neat freak, it took me a long time to get my head around this. But I'd rather have a kid covered in mud from head to toe and ruined clothes instead of a kid who's afraid to play in the sandbox and go down the slide at the playground. If the stains don't come out, toss, and ask around for hand-me-downs. There are always more kid clothes for the having from someone out there. xxx
I agree with "My Husband Calls Me Weird" that you have to pick your battles, but still i dont think its that simple; I relate to Simon, and its nothing about being outnumbered and that we men should stick to each other sort of thing! My wife and I have somehow different ways of handling the kids, life and her kitchen and although both ways boil down to keeping the kids healthy, happy or sorting out things properely, it doesn't always meet. This ends up with one of us somehow compromising but the love we have for each other keeps us going. And at other times it feels we're stretching our limits.
I am sort of the flexible Simone as opposed to the more 'post conscious' passive-aggressive parent. Someone will need to adapt and change and my question is how flexible can you be when you're flexible enough? Even though we're all different, we still need to act as a team player in our relationships. I believe that its difficult for one to come with his conventional ways be it stubborness, bossy or obssesive character and expect his spouse to adapt or change and you won't. The concept of my way or the highway will never end up pretty.
Everyday spent with someone is a valued day and we need to cherish it fully. Being humans we often take life and partners for granted until we're close to losing one of them. All it takes I believe, is some self reflection, taking time alone to absorb our ways and working on making them better.
Please just be grateful that he is doing these things, even if it is differently than you would do them. I would love to have my husband help do any of these things at all, regardless of how. Unfortunately he is pretty un-involved in child care. Unless it is an actual health or safety issue, just be glad your child has such a great dad!
I struggle with this stuff, too. I've gotten better at stopping myself before I open my mouth and totally undermine something Brad has done PERFECTLY WELL, but it's so, SO hard to turn off the extreme planning ahead-ness and just try to live in and enjoy the damn moment already. We will all survive if I forget to pack a bib (right?!?).
Ha! I'm only a year ahead of you in this parenting business but I can tell you that every mom and dad I know struggles with this! Even friends of ours where the dad stays home full-time and the mom works full-time...same issues. I think sometimes men just worry less about that kind of stuff than women do. It must be biologically protective in some way...or something.
No one tells you when you are blissfully pregnant that, along with all of the baby stuff you will have to learn on the fly, you will also have to learn to be a better, more trusting person with your partner. It's so hard not to correct/ fix every situation when you know that you really know the answer. Self awareness of the issue seems to be the first step, though, so you are well on your way.
I find myself still having conversations in my head such as "just because it isn't my way (the right way) doesn't mean it's the wrong way... let it go... breathe in and out!". I try to only intervene if the consequences mandate it. I have also noticed after 5 years of parenting together that we have found the balance. I always pack everything because I am better at this job and my husband's job is to load everything in the car, plot our course, and all logistics. Finding our talents and leaving each other's domains alone gave us the best result.
Good luck!
When I got married I was determined to not be the Nagging WifeTM. For me this means letting a lot of small stuff go like how the tp is put on the roll. He replaced the roll, does it really matter if it unrolls from the top or bottom? No, it doesn't. For the things that really do bother me if they aren't done my way, I just do them. And anything that bothers me and I want him to do differently, it's all about how I phrase it (nicely ask, tell him I will really appreciate it).
As for the baby, he takes care of her everyday while I work so he's got things down pretty well. We keep separate diaper bags, and I always tell him the weather forcast so he can dress her accordingly.
Hey - I like that painting above the fireplace
i like the guitar shirts.
I would argue that there is really nothing wrong in how Simon is handling things at all. In fact, his way of handling things seems pretty healthy.
I have a need for a lot of control in my life, personally, and if I were married to someone like Simon, I think would have a hard time -- with myself! But I think I would come to see him as a role model for myself, and would try to learn from his approach.
Best wishes to all of you, and thank you for the blog!
We don't have kids, married when I was 43 and he was 49 (first for me, second for him). What a hell of a time I have because MY way is the only way I know. I constantly tell myself, "Remember, he lives here too." Fortunately, like you and Simon, we both realize that we (read me) can be freaks about some things. Apparently I don't load the dishwasher correctly when I know for a fact I do. When I got out the manual to show how the dishes were to be placed, I realized how silly I was being. Are the dishes clean when the washer is done? Yep. Okay then, I guess it doesn't matter.
Your baby is beautiful, congratulations ...
Kath