Bon Jovi blares through the speakers, as we enter the magic show. The song choice is perplexing for a daycare Christmas party, but then again two-year-olds can occasionally Give Love a Bad Name.
The volume, intended to raise the energy level, enticing the children to enthrallment, causes my daughter to withdraw into herself. She tightens her grip around my hand, I whisper, “It’s ok, Mommy’s right here.”
Eyeing my husband David, a look of bewilderment on his face, I follow his gaze to observe the disheveled magician dressed as a holiday elf. He looks like a worn out sitcom actor from a TBS rerun, perhaps he cameoed on Seinfeld. This is the man about to perform a magic show for a dozen two-year-olds? He doesn’t appear to me as someone who is amply experienced in performing in clean, well-lit venues.
I lean into David, “Haley’s nervous.”, I murmur under my breath.
My husband replies, tilting his head, “Is his zipper undone?”
My first reaction is to chastise my husband for blowing past my apparent need to discuss our daughter’s fright, but then, after a quick glance towards the elf, I understand his point. His zipper is most defiantly undone.
And that’s the difference between mothers and fathers.
My maternal instinct alarms at the slightest breeze of concern for my children. By a quick glance into my daughter’s eyes, I can depict, regret, fear, guilt, and nervous energy. I am naturally able to read emotions and to calm them.
My husband is not.
My husband is more naturally talented at recognizing threats, like the unzippered pants of a seemingly sketchy man in proximity to his little girl.
And in planning for our future. He knows when we will need to get the roof replaced, the projected calculations for the college funds and exactly how many CokeZeros I have left in the frig (his survival depends on my caffeine intake).
His abilities lie in installing security cameras, hanging my new curtains (higher, no lower), and in replacing the light bulbs (right this instant!), because I cannot stand to be in the dark.
The often-overlooked element to consider is that parenting young children mostly plays off the strength of a woman to the disadvantage of the father.
Toddlers love soft snuggles, my husband’s chest is rock solid. They love being carried everywhere, his arms are always full of groceries, boxes, or dirty tools. They expect you to read the emotions they will have five minutes into the future, not the emotions they are currently having.
The primary aspects of parenting a baby or toddler come naturally to women. And yet I have supplied my husband little credit for the effort he expends to learn when our daughter needs one extra lullaby at bedtime or when our sons are crying from exhaustion and not hunger.
It’s taken persistence, study and resolve to acquire that level of proficiency.
Neither Haley nor I have given thought to the amount of labor David has put forth into learning traits not inherent to his personality.
Currently, our little Haley is quite a Mommy’s girl, never far from my side, she can’t comprehend or appreciate all that her father does for her and the family. But one day I look forward to telling her, to showing her that a father’s love is unrelenting even when treated as second best.
As the magic show commences, David asks Haley if he can hold her, she happily dashes into his arms but quickly returns to me. I wonder if he knows how much she loves him, even as she clings to me.
From my vantage point, I notice Haley glances his direction every few minutes to ensure he’s still nearby. While, he leans over my shoulder to gaze intently at her face, watching her reactions to the strange (and perhaps slightly intoxicated) elf magician.
When the magician needs a volunteer, David is unwillingly selected. He walks to the stage and lays down on the floor, as instructed. Haley, though still fearful, cannot let her Daddy walk alone into danger.
She musters her courage, tightly bundling her jacket in her hands like a security blanket, and plunges head-first onto the stage after her father.
There is a love between them that is budding into its own special relationship. She will help teach him these foreign traits and he will soak up the knowledge.
I will strive to better appreciate his burden of living in an environment that requires constant use of unnatural talents, while maintaining the perfection of the things he does best, protecting, providing and keeping me in the light.
1 thought on “The Unfair Advantage of Mothers”
Comments are closed.