Embracing parenthood . What did daddy do?

 From an early age, it was apparent that my mum resented being a parent.

She resented parenting to a level that is equal in magnitude, but opposite in attitude to how much I embrace the joy and privilege of parenting.

There is something about foregoing any expectation for the other parent to contribute anything that allows you, liberates, frees you up to enjoy the effort and reward of raising your child.

When I stood on the kitchen step, my mother punched me in the head. I felt shock.. at three years old, a child can perhaps expect to be welcomed by a parent. wanted even. Worse, A child might find their parent indifferent to them. for your mum to punch you in the hea is a shock for a child because they’re not just not wanted, they’re not just not welcome the parent isn’t just indifferent to them. their parent resents them .

Yet a child is entirely dependent on parent and their mum is their world.

When My mother picked me up and threw me into the road. I curled up in a ball on the tarmac, expecting to be rundown. It was a busy road and noisy. My mum and dad called it the main road. We had just passed the petrol station which had a specific fuel area for lorries. The main road carried traffic of all kinds, including heavy goods vehicles, vans and cars. To crouching in the road, I fully expected to be hit by a vehicle. I will never know if mum checked to see if it was clear traffic before picking me up and throwing me. I hope that she did. But learning later in life that my mother had bipolar disorder, it is possible, she did not check and was acting on impulse. That’s quite a terrifying thought.

The joy of parenthood comes in accepting the responsibility. From the first day in the hospital after giving birth peering down at a little bundle of responsibility and realising that you now had a set of duties in addition to having been pregnant and giving birth and then from this day you had the endless task of parenting. Accepting responsibility at that point Allowed me to embrace the joy of parenthood. I bought the house. I went to work. I earnt the money. I paid the childcare fees. I planned the meals I bought the food. I prepared the baby foods and I breastfed the baby. I Line-dried clothes, and I puré food with a sieve in the absence of a blender. I sterilised with hypochlorite in the absence of a steriliser. I kept on top of things by keeping a single cupboard sterile for the baby things. I left the house at 7 am each morning, so my child could reach nursery for 8 am and myself at work as soon as possible after. I left work at 5 pm, so I can collect my child from nursery at 6 pm and at home as long as possible after. Each day, I drove my child back from nursery as slowly as was practical to put off the moment, which I arrived at home.

Between work and the nursery closing and buying the weekly shop and refuel the car.

When my mother was dying, and my baby was 10 months old, I in addition fitted in trips to the hospital and the hospice, trips to the pharmacy for her prescriptions and a trip to the hospital who had finally come round to reviewing my complaint. I squeezed in my appointment with a psychotherapist as my opportunity for treatment as an adult survivor of childhood abuse had finally come around. My son was born a kidney defect, and had regular trips of his own to the hospital, where he was under the consultant for the first year of his life, and on prophylactic antibiotics again is a prescription I had to get filled monthly. I was also required to turn up for a smear and all of his baby vaccinations. I took the baby to baby, swimming and baby, yoga and intended all of the weight and height clinics.

What did daddy do?

Did he pick up any mental load ? Did he pick up any of the physical load? Did he pick up any of the financial load? In short, no. Did the child café come only for my wages but it took up 50% a full half of my take home pay. So we halfway income, I need to pay for the food and the rent and the bills and the car and the fuel and the nappies. And I did that. So where my mother resented parenthood, I picked up the responsibility and I picked up the reward. My child’s father swerve the responsibility, and indeed added to the burden of his own actions and behaviours. And while I know, he finds glory in being the father of the child, he could never feel the reward the same way.