In the world of parenting, it’s often the case that moms get a bad rap. Dads are typically seen as the fun ones, engaging in tickle fights, wrestling matches, and throwing balls around the house. Meanwhile, I find myself in the background, picking up the pieces—literally—after their playful antics, like the time they shattered the flower vase.
My husband, whom I affectionately refer to as “Captain Fun,” has a knack for injecting humor into our daily routine. I say this with a touch of sarcasm, emphasizing the negative undertone. “It’s just not fair!” I express in frustration. “I’m the one juggling meals, playdates, and appointments to ensure our kids have a joyful life, while you swoop in with your silly jokes and playful rides, leaving me to handle the heavy lifting. Ugh, Captain Fun.” He retaliates by dubbing me “The Taskmaster.”
Initially, this exchange would put me on the defensive. I’d channel my inner Jack Nicholson, insisting that the words “please” and “thank you” matter, and that my responsibilities far exceed what he can comprehend. “You need me on that wall,” I’d insist, reminding him that I provide the structure for our family, while he enjoys the freedom to play.
However, recently, while I was once again “guiding” the kids to tidy up after dinner, my more playful half remarked, “This is what they’ll remember about you—barking orders.” Ouch. Was that true? Would my legacy be that of Drill Sergeant Mom? If that was the case, it was disheartening.
It’s not like I don’t engage in fun activities with my kids. I surprise them with outings, treats, and sing-alongs during car rides. Just the other night, I stayed up late planning an elaborate birthday scavenger hunt that my eldest son absolutely loved waking up to. Yet, it seems that the endless parenting tasks overshadow these joyful moments, and I find myself needing to remind everyone of the fun that happens here. I’m just as entertaining as any other mom. Or am I?
A few days ago, a younger mom I know, named Sarah, shared her plans for the last day of school. After the final bell, she would surprise the kids with silly string and water balloons. “Wow,” I exclaimed. “That sounds like a blast!” Yet, inside, I couldn’t help but admire her energy. The thought of filling and tying water balloons seemed monumental. With our hectic lives, I often find it hard to even plan dinner.
I discussed this with another friend, Melissa. “I wish I could think of fun ideas like that,” I admitted. “But with everything I already do, those extra moments of magic aren’t even on my radar.”
“I’m just not that type of mom,” Melissa agreed. Crafting star-shaped sandwiches, setting up fort sleepovers, and declaring spontaneous “Yes” days all felt overwhelming, courtesy of Pinterest fueling my inferiority complex. Being the fun mom sometimes seemed like just another chore on my impossibly long to-do list.
Instead, I opted for a more practical approach—showing up on time to pick up my kids on the last day of school. If they were overloaded with supplies and goodies, I might even offer to help carry their burdens.
Then, Sarah sent me a text: “MEET US AT THE FIELD BY THE SCHOOL. BRING WATER GUNS.” Water guns? And a jug to refill them? That sounded manageable, certainly more straightforward than dealing with a hundred water balloons. So, why not?
When the bell rang, and my twins approached with their heavy bags, I fibbed about my car being parked far away. We made our way to the field, where I joined Sarah and a dozen other kids, and we unleashed a delightful water attack. The fun was everything I had hoped for, and it was all thanks to a simple shift in my perspective.
As summer break begins, I ponder how to maintain this momentum of fun. Yes, I still have work and chores, not to mention the challenge of keeping my kids from turning on each other. Not every day can be a party, but perhaps it doesn’t have to be all work and no play. I’ve been taking this mothering role far too seriously, which is absurd because there’s no way I can be fired from it. I’ve been trying to resign for a while, but to no avail. It’s time for this Taskmaster to lighten up.
By embracing more spontaneity, smiles, and maybe even some laughter, my kids might start to see me as Mommy Fun. After all, half of how we’re perceived is about marketing.
And if the house falls apart or if ice cream becomes dinner, who really cares? Not my kids. Not my husband. Household chores only make me miserable anyway. I just need to grab one of those signs I’ve seen on Pinterest:
“Please excuse the mess, we are busy making memories.”
That sounds far more enjoyable than the vacuum I received for Mother’s Day.
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Summary:
This article discusses the common perception that dads are the fun ones in a family, while moms take on the more serious roles. The author reflects on her experiences and feelings of inadequacy when comparing herself to other moms who seem to effortlessly create fun memories. Ultimately, she realizes the importance of balancing responsibilities with spontaneity to create joyful moments with her children, encouraging a shift in her attitude toward parenting.