When Chatterboy was in hospital, I took two days off work. I was mainly looking after Hungry Boy, while Mr Penguin stayed with Chatterboy in hospital. But quite a few people commented, when I said that I wouldn’t be in at work, that regardless of what normally happened, of course, Chatterboy would want his mother when he was so sick.
Mr Penguin has been Chatterboy’s primary carer since he was 12 months old. And that includes staying with him during two previous stays in hospital. So while Chatterboy was certainly grateful to have me with him in hospital when he was at his sickest, in extremis he would probably want his daddy, rather than me. Knowing that is a hard thing for me to cope with.
It shouldn’t be. Mr Penguin is a wonderful father to both our boys. They have a relationship that I love to watch. And I’m very rarely jealous of the closeness they have; my relationship with our boys is different but also very close – I’m the snuggle on the couch reading a book parent, while Mr Penguin is the chase around the house in hysterics parent.
But when society’s expectation is that, of course, a mother must have the closest relationship of all with her children, it’s hard to have to acknowledge, even if only to myself, that that’s probably not the case with Chatterboy.
This is all about me – Chatterboy does not suffer in the slightest for having such a wonderful relationship with his dad. And I don’t suffer any diminution in our relationship either – Chatterboy’s love is a cumulative, not an exclusive emotion.
But somewhere, in the back of my brain, where the logic departs and emotion takes over, it hits a raw nerve regardless.
I admire your honesty – that it’s natural that your son wants his dad, that you know he doesn’t suffer but that in some corner of your soul it hurts you not to be his absolute number one. I also admire what you’re doing. The more families and couples like you, who turn the expected norms upside down, the better, in my opinion. You are breaking new ground for all of us, and for the next generation. Thank you.
Each family is different. I feel the same way, sometimes, but we make these choices. Of course, we follow the normative pattern which is something I sometimes feel quite guilty or weird about myself.
I have two female friends whose sons prefer their fathers in extremis, as you say. In one case the mother is the primary caregiver, and in the other case the parents are equal carers. So. I don’t know what it means. They are wonderful mothers, the fathers are wonderful too. I guess I’d conclude that this is a great development, that kids would have TWO loving caring soothing people available to them.
I found that very interesting — certainly undermines the idea of the maternal bond being naturally stronger.
I speculate that a father who is happy to stay home and look after the children while his wife works is more likely to form that sort of bond with his children. There are lots of people out there who could spend all day with their children and still not form much of a bond. No doubt some of them are mothers going quietly nuts.
A social adjustment we seem to be in the process of making is having the best suited parent look after the kids, or sharing the role.
Kiko is super-bonded with his Dad and has always been that way. He would never let anyone hold him for more than five minutes when he was a tiny baby, but he made an exception for Dada. I know he loves me but Dada is his hero and the one he runs around the house looking for, while ignoring me (!!) I think it’s a blokey bonding thing. It starts early. Kiko super-bonded with his Grandad too recently, in the three short weeks he saw him. It was amazing to watch. I’m not sure whether it bothers me or not yet. I’m happy that he has such a close relationship with the men in his life, I’m proud of that, but sometimes I feel like saying: “Hang on, Buster! Who went through the 36-hour labour?! Who changes the pooey nappies?!” I feel like a bit of a person in the background sometimes.