Men are from Mars, Women Are From Venus-Parents Edition

My husband is awesome. Seriously. I hit the Megamillions of spouses. I’m pretty sure he says the same thing about me. (Why wouldn’t he? I am awesome.) We are two peas in a very warped pod raising a kid and we’re both pretty good parents most of the time. Back when we were young, wild and free (pre kid) we mapped out a strategy for how we wanted to parent someday.

We were united. We were ready. We were so stupid.

Then the alien arrived and strategies went out the door. Mars vs. Venus baby. Moms and dads are wired differently. Here are a few examples of what I mean:

1. It’s well established that Dads can go screen saver on demand. Nice picture to look at but nothing going on behind it. They are thinking of nothing. Zoned out. It’s a defense mechanism. Moms, on the other hand, think in run on, compound sentences. All the time.

Case in point: Kiddos are melting down all around

Dad: “What did you say?” (Insert chirping crickets here.)

Mom: “These kids are losing it they must be tired we need to get to the store we’re out of eggs screw it they’ll eat cereal.”

2. Moms have radars that never turn off. The kiddos are constantly registering blips on the screen. These radars are activated by a fetus kicking its mom’s bladder every day after the seventh month of pregnancy. In utero, stampeding around the living room or doing stealthy crap in the basement, kiddos register radar blips on the mom radar. Same outcome, blip registers, mom responds “I have to go RIGHT NOW!”

Dads can sleep through a crying child a foot away. Radar is completely disabled. (Again, clever defense mechanism.)

3. Dads offer practical advice. ” it’s raining, you need an umbrella.” Moms know that parenting is an impractical sport. Although every mom has developed the acrobatic and flexibility skills of a Cirque Du Soleil performer (fire down dads, not that way), we haven’t developed the third hand to hold that umbrella. On a lucky day we get to use the Spidey umbrella after the kiddo and all twelve pounds of crap that he wouldn’t carry have been deposited at school. More likely, we just put up our hoods and remind ourselves that it’s not prom night. Now that is practical.

In the end it’s about survival of the fittest. Who has adapted the best? The answer, of course, is obvious.

It’s the kids.

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