Dude Looks Like a Lady: Gendering Parenthood

I am the Dad.  Or, better yet, I am the 1950s Dad.  I work long hours, come home to dinner on the table most nights, and contribute very rarely to routine housework.  I am the major breadwinner and I handle all of the household jobs that require muscle or the use of tools. 

Yet these characteristics are not what make me the Dad.  Rather, it is the relationship that I share with Anna that makes me the Dad in our family.

Happy together, Oct. 2011

 You may be wondering why, as the other half of a same-sex relationship, this feminist woman is comparing her role in the family to the heteronormative model of parenthood.  Why?  I’ll tell you.  Because that is the dominant paradigm and many still filter their expectations about our family through that lens.  Which one is the guy and which one is the girl?  Who hasn’t heard someone ask that about the individuals in a same-sex relationship?

Now, I fully admit that, on the outside, Courtney and I do resemble that heterosexist stereotype, at least to some extent.  I wear my hair longer than she does and I like to wear dresses, make-up and jewelry.  I like to feel pretty.  And shoes.  Did I mention that I LOVE shoes? 

Date night, Nov. 2010

Courtney, on the other hand, keeps her hair very short and wears androgynous clothing.  I haven’t seen her wear a skirt since the first year we were together (not counting Halloween when she got all dolled up and I played the dude), and even then she wore it awkwardly.  And the shoes were all wrong.  She does not like to wear make-up at all, and her jewelry is extremely understated.  Yes, I look more like “the girl” and she looks more like “the guy,” but that is where the stereotyping ends.

Halloween '07. Truly frightening.

I am the painfully rational half and she is the sensitive emotional half.  I am the sometimes distant and aloof one, and she is the one who nurtures the family.  She makes my coffee every morning without fail and remembers my appointments.  She pays the bills and does the grocery shopping.  Without her, I would be completely lost.

Spring 2007

And she is Anna’s Mommy.  Mama T and Anna share the closest bond.  Aside from some basic instructions and a few pep talks from the experienced parent that I am, Courtney has taken the lead in parenting Anna.  Because of that, the bond that has resulted between them is the primary bond.  I am the secondary parent.

When my now-adult biological daughter was born, I bonded with her in a fierce and powerful way.  No, it didn’t happen immediately and instinctively the way that protective motherhood is romanticized in our culture to occur.  In fact, I remember feeling like something was wrong with me in those first few weeks after she was born because I didn’t have some type of ecstatic, instantaneous, and transcendental connection to this new being. 

Yet over the course of the following months, after countless feedings and diaper changes, endless rocking and singing, and learning how to respond to the idiosyncrasies of my crying infant, that powerful bond developed.  A piece of my heart was now outside of my body and in my arms.

Heidi with new baby Kelsey

For the next 11½ years, I was the primary caretaker for my daughter until she moved in with her father and stepmother when I started law school and became the part-time parent.  Even while her father and I were together for the first 7½ years of her life, I was still the primary caretaker.  He has always been a great father, so when I say that I had the primary responsibility as the mother of our child I do not intend to denigrate him in any way. 

That said, he was the one who worked the long hours and I was the one who took care of the day-to-day details of parenting like packing lunches, planning outfits, bringing our child to daycare, etc.  However, we did not completely fit the traditional nuclear family mold.  For example, he did most of the housework (okay, yes I admit that I am a total slob by nature!) while I navigated my full-time college course load and worked part-time.  And there were plenty of moments when I resented doing the so-called “woman’s work” like cooking and laundry.

Now, while still at the beginning of a new parenting journey, I am no longer the primary caregiver of the child that I am helping to raise.  And my role as the secondary caregiver of this child has affected the bond that has developed between us.  But don’t get me wrong—I love Anna with all of my heart.  She is my niece AND my second child.  We play together, we cuddle, we giggle, we pretend, we dance, we read stories, and we sing songs.  

Anna & Mama Heidi, Spring 2009

But Mama T is Mommy.  Mama T is the preferred parent when boo-boos happen.  Mama T is the one who Anna wants in the middle of the night.  Mama T brings Anna to daycare every morning and picks her up in the early evening, and Mama T spends every Friday alone with Anna running errands and meeting friends for play dates.

Anna & Mommy T, Summer 2009

By virtue of our different parenting roles and when viewed through a heteronormative lens, I play the role of the traditional father, even down to the stereotypical status as the serious disciplinarian.  Courtney, as the primary caregiver, provides most of the discipline simply because of the increased time that she spends with Anna.  However, when I get involved in the discipline it means that a serious time-out is in order and no amount of screaming, crying, or whining is going to save this otherwise adorable child from her punishment.

It is a sad commentary on our heterosexist society that I often analyze my parenting experiences in terms of gender stereotypes.  Yet the profound difference between being the primary and secondary caregiver of a young child is quite often a gendered difference.  Yes, there are more men today who are taking more active roles in the lives of their children, and this is to be commended. 

On the other hand, one of the widely used arguments against marriage equality for LGBT people is that the pairing of a man and a woman provides essential gender differences that are required for the development of healthy and happy children.

So, what are these supposedly essential gender differences that are so vital to a child’s growth and well-being?  Are they simply gender stereotypes that arise from the different roles that we play as parents?  Considering that we are blessed every day with the evidence of a thriving little girl, these inquiring minds would like to know.

Us, Feb. 2011