Survey says: Moms mad at dads

According to Martha Brockenbrough's article "Mad at Dad," it's official: Moms are mad at dads. Citing a survey of more than 1,000 moms, Brockenbrough says that 30 to 50 percent of moms surveyed are mad at dads for violations such as not knowing what needs to be done at home, not knowing the best way to care for kids, not being able to multi-task, not sharing household chores equally, not having parenthood affect him as much as it has her, and getting more time to himself than she does. The complaints range from the reasonable (Brandi whose anger flares when her husband gets up early to work out while she's been up all night nursing the baby) to the ridiculous ("Many dads wouldn't even think to buy valentines for the class, for example, or . . . know that curriculum night is next Thursday at 7:30 and you need to hire a sitter and bring a nut-free vegetarian appetizer that can be eaten without a fork"). Understandable or downright ludicrous, one thing's for sure: These moms are m-a-d.

The (as of this writing) 253 dizzying volley of comments following a New York Times write-up about Brockenbrough's piece prove even more insightful than the original article. Here we find everything from stay-at-home moms who love their jobs, moms and dads who work part- or full-time and may or may not be ticked at their spouses, house dads who do all the housework and either do or don't resent it, dads who claim their wives don't lift a finger even though they're home all day, good dads who help out, good dads who don't, dads who love online gaming more than their families, single people following the thread and all the more determined not to marry or have children, women who conclude parenting is best done without dad, and a lesbian couple who feel that perhaps Heather having two mommies is the perfect answer after all.

Who then has the right to be angry at whom? Is a mom's anger to be brushed off as the mere ranting of a feministic, domineering, ex-corporate, embittered martyr, or does she have a point? Do dads help out enough, or are they nothing more than chauvinistic chumps glued to TiVo, yelling for a Fat Tire from the futon? Whatever your conclusion, with kids often caught in the crossfire, perhaps a good honest look at who does what is in order-no throwing out the baby with the bathwater allowed. Be honest: Most women don't want effeminate half-men who dress in ruffles and bake soufflés. They just want them to take out the trash without being begged. Most men don't mind helping out. They just want to do it without being micromanaged or criticized. Most women love mothering their kids-they just get worn down to a nub and need a break once in awhile. And most men aren't complete dimwits when it comes to kids. Sure, they have the occasional "episode," like the time my OB/GYN uncle fed his newborn some crushed watermelon, but doesn't that just prove that even smart men (like their smart wives) sometimes make mistakes?

But if we move from asking for help to arguing over who changed the last diaper, who took Katie to ballet last, or whose night it is to fry up supper, it makes one wonder how far we are from splitting families instead of hairs. Those women who decide to parent alone may experience short-term relief from being mad at dad, but also deprive their children of seeing how normal, stressed-out, busy parents learn to work together to run a home. If Dad truly is being a self-absorbed jerk, are there no options other than taking our toys and going home?

Brockenbrough concludes her article: "The fact that so many moms are mad, and that so many of the complaints are similar, is significant. And maybe that can give all of us moms-who love our husbands but wish they'd just be . . . more like us-the push to make some changes, to delegate more, and demand more for ourselves."

I'm pretty sure that, as much as I want my man to help with the dishes or to bond with our children, one thing I don't want him to be is more like me. And being pushy and demanding sounds equally unappealing, although I have certainly spent years traveling that thorny path. Splitting child rearing and household chores into two hermetically sealed halves is about as successful as splitting a sugar cookie for two toddlers to share: No one is happy and the cookie ends up in crumbs.

And, I don't know about you, but I really don't like crumbs.