Trading Places

by Patti


My husband makes a mean oatmeal. How do I know this? Because S tells me so. "Papi puts bananas in it! And he doesn't use the microwave! He makes it in a pot and stirs it for a long time!"

After nearly 8 years of getting my kid ready for school and dropping her off, I have turned my esteemed position of "get her ready-er" over to M. Let's face it, the kid is 11 years old now; she can do everything a kid needs to do to get ready on her own now. She gets up on her own, she dresses herself, she grooms herself, she makes her own breakfast (even fries her own eggs), she packs her own lunch and snack. Yet, being an only child, she has always liked the companionship in the morning, and I have always provided it.

Recently, there have been some changes at work and I am now working full-time. Part of it was necessity, as M's hands are on their last legs. (Sorry. I couldn't resist.) He has been grooming the heads of Chicago for the past 15 years, and before that, he was grooming the heads of Oregon, and before that, the heads of Argentina. In short: all that grooming has left his hands, arms, shoulders, legs, done-for. And if he has any hope of keeping them useful, he needs to cut it out for a while. (Sorry. I couldn't resist.) Since the opportunity to work full-time and, as a result, have full benefits presented itself conveniently at the same time my husband was falling apart, and the opportunity was something kind of cool, it was an absolute no-freakin'-brainer to grab it.

So I did.

Soon, M is going to reduce his hours at work, and I have already ramped up mine. And the roles we have known so comfortably for the past bajillion years are now going to be reversed. He is now getting her off to school, and as soon as his reduced hours kick in, he will also see her after school for a bit, and once I get home, he will go to work. And during all of her summers and Spring Breaks and holidays, it will be him that takes her to the pool, or to the museum, or to the park.

I thought I might be sad, or even a little jealous, but when I think about it, I'm not. I realize how lucky I am that I got to stay home exclusively with S all through her baby and little kidhood. And even after she started school, I got to try all different kinds of jobs, projects, ideas.... all because I always had a back-up: M. He was working responsibly and steadily and making sure we had health insurance, he was bringing home the fatty bacon, he was cutting hair that never stops growing - all so that I didn't have to take S to a babysitter and sob in my car on the way to work.

And now, I guess it's his turn. His body needs a break, his mind needs a break, and maybe he needs the opportunity to try on a few ideas - just as I had the chance to do. And in the meantime, he will get to spend a lot more time with our daughter. And she with him.

We're a little more than a week into this new "thing", and I asked S if she misses me in the morning. "Papi makes me lunch. AND he makes me breakfast. He made me oatmeal again!"

Guess not. And I couldn't be happier.