Primary Parent

“Most two-career families sooner or later find that one person falls into the role of lead parent. To be sure, Anne-Marie was actively involved with our boys, taking responsibility for specific chunks of their lives… But none of this is lead parenting. Lead parenting is being on the front lines of everyday life.” – Andrew Moravcsik

The reality is, there is always a primary parent. Dave and I started off extremely equitably; there were long stretches in residency when he did nearly all of the childcare during my demanding rotations. I remember once, Ellie’s daycare closed due to a blizzard. I was in the OR about to scrub in on my next case. Dave was in the ICU about to place a central line. He called out and I kept working.

But over the past six years, I’ve slowly taken on more of the everyday childcare duties. I felt more strongly about being home for the kids, so the transition happened naturally. With the addition of each kid, I worked a little less, and the demands of parenting increased a little more. Simultaneously, Dave’s career has taken off, and like they say, success begets success. The grants and speaking requests and committee invitations multiplied, leading to greater travel. He started studying for a doctorate. He was gone more; I was home more.

So I’ve been learning more and more what it’s like to be the primary parent.

It’s hard. It’s much harder being at home in some ways than being at work. I mean, it’s hard to even talk about why. If I have a hard work day, I can say “there was this refractive error after surgery” or “this patient was upset about this”—a hard day at home would be something like “well I was nursing Esme and praying she would finally sleep since I needed to get dinner cooked and she was so grumpy I had to hold her all afternoon but Elijah and Eric were downstairs bickering again and Elijah started screeching so loud Esme was being distracted and I was thinking why can’t they stop fighting for one moment!”

So yes, it’s unpredictable, and isolating, and unlike Dave’s job, it never ends. I think there’s also a cultural double standard, that women should be the ones staying home with the kids. If I go out with four kids alone, people say almost apologetically, “you’ve got your hands full,” like “I feel so bad for you; how did you get yourself into this?” If Dave goes out alone with four kids, he gets all this “you’re so amazing! Look what a great person you are! They’re all so cute!” Sometimes the double standard makes it harder to feel appreciated, and rarely do I feel understood in the context of the toll it has taken in my career. People who see me with the kids just assume I don’t work or never worked.

The rewards of being the primary parent are simultaneously less tangible and more meaningful. I call it my “every diaper counts” theory of parenting. Every thing I do for them matters. It matters in living out who I am for them, in teaching them, in showing them I love them. Let’s face it: parenting young children involves mostly tasks you could pay anyone to do. I didn’t go to school for twelve years to pour milk and draw Darth Vader and wipe poop. But all of that matters, and these years when they are uninhibited in their openness and attachment won’t last forever, and I have to believe what I do now counts. Everything, the big and the small. Like they say, with kids, quality time doesn’t come without quantity of time.

If I could given myself advice, I would say: guard against resentment towards the non-primary parent. Don’t get upset if he can’t read your mind about how things are done at home; communicate better about parenting issues and daily details so you can be together in it as deeply and smoothly as possible. Remember to schedule regular time away from home for yourself. Remember to be in community with other primary parents. Remember the good moments and write about them.