Sometimes I envy my husband’s position as the second parent in our family. In every family, one parent is always to go-to. The one the kids find first when they’re sad, when they’re happy, or when they’re tired. More often than not, moms are that person. I’m for sure the preferred parent in my house. This is not to say my boys don’t go to their father, but he’s the pinch hitter. To them, Mama is the one who hits the home runs.

Pre-covid, pre-J, we had a good balance. C knew he could rely on us equally to fulfill his every need. Except for when I was breastfeeding. A – hubby – told me that C would start fussing a few minutes before I walked in the door like he knew his food supply was nearby. Since the beginning of the pandemic, however, I have become the primary caregiver. A is an essential worker, so he went into his office daily. Gone was the beautiful balance that we’d created.

Now, I can’t sit down for a moment or complete a task without one of the boys running to me. Just this week, J came to me while I was making dinner for help when the show he was watching ended. A was sitting at the dining table reading something on his phone. What he was doing needed far less of his immediate attention than not burning the house down. He had to be convinced to ask his dad.

During bedtime, both the boys want to cuddle with me, which leads to the three of us – sometimes four if A is invited to enjoy the fun – scrunched up on one of their twin extra-long beds to get to sleep. Some nights as I lay there waiting for J to fall asleep because he fights sleep until the bitter end, I dream of what it would be like not to be the preferred parent. How much more reading I would get done (#65in365), how much more writing I would get done, and how much more up-to-date I would be on shows I watch/want to watch. Over Christmas break, A managed to Eternal, Shang Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, and Clerks 3 largely uninterrupted. Guys, I still haven’t finished The Woman King!

Even during the writing of the post, I’ve gotten up several times at the boys’ request. J refused to let A clean him in the tubby. He wanted “Mama to do!” C came and got me to help with his melatonin, not even two minutes after I told him to go to his dad.

I hope I haven’t made it sound like A just lays back and watches while I do all the things. He does not. When it comes to the husband/father lottery, I really did win the jackpot. He does everything except cook, although he is capable. If he’s in earshot – and paying attention – when the boys are pulling on me to do something, he steps in and asks if he can help. It still doesn’t lift the burden of being the one they go to first. I often find myself feeling frazzled because I can’t complete a thought, or I feel guilty because I snap at them when I just need thirty seconds to pee!

As I’ve said before, I know one day I won’t be the person they go to first when they are having a hard time. I know one day I will be replaced by a best friend or a girlfriend – or boyfriend – but it doesn’t mean that being the preferred parent right now isn’t a lot. It’s draining…and it doesn’t stop when they go to sleep because, at least in my house, they wake up and come to me in the middle of the night…and fight over who is going to cuddle with me. I don’t sleep because my kids love me too much. Am I an ass for complaining about this? Let me know in the comments.