When my children were younger, I quickly earned the label of the “serious” parent. After a week filled with endless diaper changes, breastfeeding, toddler negotiations, and fleeting naps, I craved a breather from my two lively girls. Every Saturday morning, my dedicated husband would whisk the kids away for some exciting adventures. “Let’s go have some fun, girls!” he’d cheerfully announce.
As he peeled my clingy, tearful 3-year-old away from me and took the baby in his arms, it meant I could finally enjoy some precious solitude. But it also highlighted that being home with me wasn’t exactly exciting. The truth was, I wasn’t very fun at all. While my love for my daughters overflowed, the day-to-day responsibilities of motherhood often left me feeling drained and irritable. A recent study in the American Sociology Review confirmed I wasn’t alone; it found that mothers tend to enjoy spending time with their kids less because they handle more of the “work” and not enough of the “fun” activities.
Honestly, there’s nothing enjoyable about preparing meals only to see them tossed aside by a dissatisfied toddler. Just the thought of tackling the laundry was exhausting. And nursing a 4-month-old while my 3-year-old demanded my attention was enough to send me into tears. Getting ready for an outing could stretch into an hour depending on any last-minute surprises. By the time Saturday arrived, I didn’t care who played the fun role; I just needed a hot shower and a few moments of peace. I was in full survival mode.
Those few hours of kid-free time on weekends did wonders for my energy levels. Yet, come Monday, I was once again overwhelmed by the endless list of chores while my daughters swirled around me. By mid-morning, I reverted to being the stressed and serious parent.
I didn’t particularly like this version of myself. I remembered the days when I danced until dawn, enjoyed wild adventures, and embraced spontaneity. Sure, the carefree spirit of my 20s was hard to resurrect as a busy mom in her 30s, but I was open to adapting. However, my husband had already stepped into the role of the playful parent. So, if he was the fun one, what role did that leave for me?
Reflecting on this, I realized the answer was right in front of me. With those rejuvenating mornings to myself, I became the attentive listener when my girls returned home, eager to share their exciting stories. I absorbed everything—the good, the bad, and the hilariously messy—offering encouragement or empathy as needed. I became their safe space, their comforting presence. If my husband is the one who takes them skiing, biking, and splashing at the pool, I am the one they come home to for solace.
Before motherhood, I had little understanding of how profoundly it would transform me. I didn’t recognize how much of myself I would set aside out of necessity or sheer exhaustion. It wasn’t intentional to hide my fun side, but it happened. As my husband embraced his role as the playful parent, it naturally defined mine as the Home Base Parent, bringing balance to our family dynamics.
Now that my daughters are a teen and a tween, with their younger sister being 5, our bond has deepened. While parenting three kids—including a kindergartner—has its challenges, I strive to embody my role. My girls often seek me out with their serious thoughts and worries, finding comfort in my presence. I take in their big feelings and help soothe their little frustrations. This connection is invaluable, and I wouldn’t trade it for all the fun in the world.
Meanwhile, my husband still holds the title of the fun one. However, as our girls spend more time with friends, his playful duties have lightened. Fortunately, he has a knack for bringing out my fun side too, so don’t be shocked if you catch me dancing at a local bar sometime soon!
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In summary, while my husband is the playful parent, I’ve embraced my role as the supportive and comforting Home Base Parent. Together, we create a balanced and loving environment for our children, allowing them to thrive in both adventure and stability.