When I tell my friend Emma that my husband is quitting his part-time job to care for our 16-month-old daughter, and I’m going to back to work full time to become the sole earner for us all, her reply makes me smile.
“Amazing! What a great role model for her,” she exclaims.
It’s not until the next day that it dawns on me that she wasn’t calling the future stay-at-home Dad the role model but me, the working mum. I had completely misinterpreted her words, and I was struck by just how easy it had been to do so.
Ayda Williams, model, actress, mum of four and wife to singer Robbie Williams, talked on her podcast recently about how selfish and guilty women feel when returning to work after having children in comparison to men.
“I see Rob going off to do his work, and I don’t think he ever thinks of it as being ‘selfish’”, she told guest Sophie Ellis-Bexter on Postcards From The Edge. “I don’t know if (this is) because of what we’ve inherited culturally from our mothers and their mothers, and society, and what’s expected of us, but how we do feel guilty when we pursue something that’s ours, or it feels like it’s at the behest of our children, or that it’s wrong to want those things?” she adds.
It seems that my own feelings around guilt and inadequacy as a mum who isn’t caring for her daughter 24/7 were so huge in that moment that they made seeing myself as the role model impossible.
I reach out to my friend Penny Wincer, who is twelve years ahead of me in the mothering game. Her book Tender explores the art and the complexities of caring for others. Having cared for both her mother, and then her high-needs son, she is something of an expert on the topic.
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“We have internalised this idea that motherhood is all about the giving of care,” she tells me “so cleaning Weetabix from around their mouths, tucking them into bed, singing them to sleep. Most men see the role of fatherhood as providing financially, and the relationship they have with that child. That’s why mum guilt is very different to what fathers experience and feel; it’s a day-to-day challenge for us.”
I know, however, there is another reason why I presumed the compliment to be for him. He has done 50% of the childcare since our daughter was born, us both wanting to avoid extortionate nursery fees and the endless cycle of coughs and colds for as long as possible, and has taken her along to various music, massage and sensory classes to keep her entertained and socialised. While no one has ever complimented me for doing so, he receives surprised praise constantly. It’s equal parts condescending and jarring; a man caring for his child without the help of a woman shouldn’t be impressive.
Thankfully, a shift might be on the horizon, as data from the Office of National Statistics show that the number of stay-at-home dads in UK has increased by a third since before the pandemic. I hope this will bring with it a change in our attitudes towards men caring for their children, and in turn a reduction in the persistent feeling – from ourselves, and from those around us – that mum should be present too, or instead.
“I think men know they can play football every Saturday morning and still be a great dad,” adds Penny. “I wish more women felt that way too. It’s not that I want men to be going on less stag dos, or rugby tours, or whatever it is they do for fun; that stuff is still valid and important. I’d just want women to be doing it equally.”
Anna Mathur is a psychotherapist and the author of Mind Over Mother: Every mum's guide to worry and anxiety in the first years. When I tell her about my reaction to Emma’s text, she is unsurprised.
“Working mothers often feel on the back foot when it comes to the motherhood juggle, so it’s not surprising that we live on the defensive, poised to justify our choices,” she says. “We have the cultural challenges; like the gender pay gap and the lack of affordable childcare, and we have our own individual narratives around what it means, or what it should look or feel like to be a working mother.
We are the generation who are living through and navigating the bumpy road of change in attitude towards and landscape for working mothers,” she adds “and we have some way to go when it comes to the infrastructure and attitude of our society, which is often where we find this conflict and dissonance."
Her words, and Penny's, encourage me to reassess our new situation. I can’t control how society sees my role, or my husband’s, but I can adjust my own attitude. I don’t want my daughter being raised by a woman who isn’t kind to herself and isn’t attuned to her own needs. Even in the moments when I quite literally close the door on her to work, under the surface of any lingering guilt is the knowledge that working makes me happier, and if i’m a happier mum, my husband will be a happier dad and she will be a happier child. What more could I possibly want?
