Urban Camping Part I


My husband and I have tried lots of different divisions of parental responsibilities over almost 14 years.   When we started out, he was a student and I was a teacher, so I was the primary breadwinner.   He was responsible for getting Kennedy (our first munchkin) to the babysitter’s house every morning.   They often stopped at McDonald’s for breakfast or at Office Depot so Kennedy could play with the phones and fax machines.   It bugged the babysitter when he showed up late and unannounced, but he couldn’t be trifled with that.   When I began work on my Master’s degree (poor timing, perhaps?), he took the evening shift a couple nights a week as well.   Our division of labor at that point was probably about 50/50, which felt just about right to me.

When he finished his Ph.D. and got a ‘real’ job, we had two kids, and planned that I would stay home with them.  (If you know me, you know how laughable this was, but I thought I was doing the ‘right’ thing.)  Luckily, I had the foresight to apply for – and get – a teaching position at LSU, so I never had to implement the aforementioned absurd plan.   I taught three mornings a week and stayed home with them the other two days.   He dropped them off at pre-school at 9:30… or 10:00, depending on how much fun they were having and whether they stopped for donuts on the way.   Our division of labor at that point was probably about 70% me, 30% him.   There were days when I longed for a 50%, 50% arrangement.   (If I were being totally honest, I’d admit that sometimes I fantasized about a new arrangement, maybe 90% him, 10% me, but this is a blog, so I’m writing about the kind of person I aspire to be, okay?)

Then I got pregnant with munchkin number three and decided I wanted to get a Ph.D.  (Is anyone starting to see a pattern of impetuous decisions?)  This involved some serious upheaval.   We bought a house near campus to reduce our commute time.   We left behind great neighbors and a great church family.   On my first class day, I scrambled to find a semi-private place between classes in which to pump because I was still breastfeeding my then 4-month-old son.   After wasting five of my precious fifteen minutes, I settled on a not-so-private women’s restroom on the top floor of the education building.   As I crouched over the public toilet seat to pump, my feet and legs began to fall asleep and I had to concentrate on not falling into the toilet.   I felt like I was experiencing an all-time motherhood low and resented that this was not a responsibility I could share with Brent.   But between a new pre-school, a babysitter extraordinaire, and Brent, I managed to carve out enough time to successfully complete my coursework.   Our division of labor at this point was probably 70% me, 30% him, but that’s not including Mary Poppins, who grocery shopped for us every Monday, cooked two or three meals a week, and took care of the munchkins two days a week.

Then it was time for me to write my dissertation proposal.   For some reason, this felt qualitatively different from coursework.   It took more out of me.   The constant interruptions that are commonplace with children who are 2, 5 and 8 started putting the squeeze on my productivity.   So Brent offered to take a month off work (he’s a professor, so that is do-able during the summer) and take the kids away somewhere-anywhere-so I could have a solid month of time to myself to write my proposal.   No butts to wipe, no mouths to feed, no fights to referee-just me and my computer.

As soon as I took him up on his offer, he started making plans for what he dubbed his month of ‘urban camping’ with the kids.   Come back next week to read about our 100% him, 0% me division of labor experiment.

But before you go, what kinds of trade-offs or arrangements have you made with your spouse?   Does anyone split parenting responsibilities 50/50?   90/10?   What works for you?   What doesn’t?

Click here to read Part II.