But what is expected from you that your husband doesn’t have to face?
You just can’t win
They expect me to raise kids as if I don’t have a job and work as if I don’t have kids.
The body
They want our bodies to bounce back to the pre-birth shape as fast as that insanely lucky supermodel who was already strutting on the Victoria’s Secret runway five minutes after giving birth. Meanwhile, dad’s body is celebrated and accepted.
Well-fed
Every night, a cooked dinner for the whole family, even when I’m rushing from work to take the kid to practice. When I told my mother-in-law this felt unrealistic, she said, "You can prep meals and freeze them on Sunday afternoons." I told her that’s when I rest—and by rest, I mean laundry, folding, and ironing.
Mornings
One single colleague proudly declared at lunch that there’s no excuse for not finding time to exercise because:
everyone has 24 hours a day, and you can always wake up earlier.
I imagined what it would be like if I—who goes to bed at midnight and is up at 6 a.m. to feed the kids—woke up at 4 a.m. to do Pilates with them… I told her she was right, and if four hours of sleep isn’t enough, that’s on the person! Then another colleague suggested it’s enough to exercise in the living room at night. Sure, after I clear a mountain of toys and Legos, roll out my little yoga mat, and spend half an hour explaining to the kids that mom isn’t playing horsey, she’s working out.
Cheerful and smiling
With three kids, I barely have time to breathe, yet they expect me to have the temperament of a Disney princess.
Unchanged
Two friends pointed out how different I’ve become since having kids. Well, obviously! There’s a little person I have to keep alive, my body has changed, my brain rewired—excuse me for not staying the same.
Spotless
They expect the house to look like a magazine shoot because I supposedly have all day to clean since "I’m just home with the kids." No one cares that I’m still in pajamas at 4 p.m. because I didn’t have time to shower or get dressed.
Time management
When my second child was born, I told my mother-in-law how sleep deprivation was hitting me hard. My father-in-law wisely said I should sleep when the baby sleeps. I asked if I should then cook when the baby cooks and do laundry when the baby does? Or if he comes over every day to watch my other child, should he also sleep when the baby and I do? No answer came.
The party
I’d been home with my newborn for a week and felt completely lost. I was sleeping no more than three hours a night, sometimes crying from exhaustion, feeling like a zombie. During this time, my husband arranged with his parents to come Saturday to see the baby and asked what I would cook for them. I thought I misheard. I told him he could cook whatever he wanted, but I wouldn’t leave the bedroom—I’d be sleeping while they babysat. On Saturday, his parents arrived with a pot of food, and my husband looked at me and asked, "Aren’t you setting the table?" I didn’t answer, said goodbye, and went to sleep.
Good advice
The TV is not a babysitter.
I know, but it gives me ten minutes to get myself together and catch up. "Don’t stress, rest, and make time for yourself!" Sure, I’ll just buy some time at the time factory—thanks for the tip!
