I came home to piles of laundry on our bed. Folded piles of
laundry. Folded coordinated piles of laundry on the made bed. And so the flip has begun. Ben and I will be switching roles for the
next
year. He will be the "primary parent" (a term he recently discovered
and proudly owns) and I'll be the working parent. I'm actually not certain what
to call what I will be and this seems to be pretty much what I have been
feeling as of late. I think all of us
moms go through this. This identity shift and change continually in moments and
through seasons - mom, wife, friend, sister, daughter, employee. We have an understanding,
it seems, of before I was a mother and after, before I became a wife, when I
was single, when I was working, I was...
I will be a classroom teacher once again. Eighth grade. I love the angst of the early adolescent
years. This struggle to define themselves and discover who they are and who
they want to become. I identify with it,
maybe a little too much. Lord have mercy on this perpetual puberty. Approaching
this school year, I am equally excited and hesitant. My babies are five years old, three, two and
one. I anticipated going back to full
time teaching someday but someday came sooner than we expected.
On a Tuesday
afternoon, before the boy's swim lessons, Ben was fired from his Outdoor Education Coordinator job. We were given three
weeks to pack up our home, our life and move on. To what? Everything shifted.
Everything flipped.
Ben needed time, needs time. With my degree and the timing
of the "shift" it seemed obvious it would be me who would pursue an
income. Not even a week after Ben lost
his job, I had my first interview for the job I was offered. There has been no time really to reflect or
think or feel even. You put your head down and do what you need to do. Pack
bags, wrap up treasures, take snapshots in your mind of the place you hoped
your children would grow up and with the help of dear friends you move on
and into the first floor of a gracious family from your church.
People wonder how we are doing with all this. I wonder! They mainly ask about Ben. How is he really with staying at home? Answer: To
quote Ben, "I'm going to coordinate the sh*t out this!" There already is little pictures of clothes
on drawers so the boys know where to put their laundry. He already has found a more efficient app for
meal planning and grocery shopping. He
has even already signed up to take a meal to someone in our church. I think people should rather ask how I am
doing with my husband showing me up as Super Mom, I mean, Super Primary Parent.
Honestly,
it makes me so proud and so thankful. I am humbled by this gift of my
man. We always held to this egalitarian
understanding of our marriage and the way this flip has been so fluid thus far
shows the depth to how sincerely we hold the truth of that ideal.
And sure, there has been some stumbles, some arguments, some
bruised feelings and there will be more
as we continue to figure this out. The unofficial first week of me working, I
came into the kitchen just to grab something so I could continue to write my
parent letter in the other room. Banner asked for a frozen yogurt tube.
"Of course, baby," I say and grab one without even thinking. Ben
looks at me aghast. "Seriously? Dinner will be on the table in five
minutes!" He's angry but I secretly
loved it. Flip.
This use to be my "domain." Granted, Ben never, ever once stepped into my
"territory" and assumed charge. It was more like me throwing babies
at him, begging for him to take over, the minute he walked into the house. But
now, how much more of an opportunity to really step into each other's
shoes, to really appreciate one another,
to really grow in our understandings of how much it really takes to be true
partners in life and in love.
He has even washed the sheets already. For the love. Really, for the love. I can honestly say
there is no hidden envy or "You just wait, Ben, after weeks of this"
or "Yeah, of course you can because you didn't have little people literally sucking
your brain capacity out of you for the last five years..." None of that. Don't believe me? Watch us. It is quite impressive. I can't even fathom how it's working. I think it has a lot to do with how
we identify ourselves. Are
we defined by our roles? Our work? The amount of our income? Where we
live?
Jesus' last prayer in the garden was that we would be one as
He and the Father are one. The union of
the divine. Separate but one. Each
constantly seeking to give glory to the other.
This is our prayer in marriage that we would be one. And I hope to give
glory, to honor Ben in whatever role we play. And He feels the same. In this
submission to one another, we find one ourselves and our identities are made
true in love no matter who is bringing home the paycheck or folding the piles
of laundry.
