Good Cop, Bad Cop, and the Working Mom

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parenting

Someone recently asked me who the tough one was in our house; mom or dad? Before I could answer, my husband laughed and said he was the “bad cop,” which was surprising to everyone. It definitely plays against our true personalities.

My husband is the big teddy bear in our life. He tends to be on the quiet side, he lets the kids climb all over him, and he’s the “fun” dad. That part shouldn’t be surprising.

I’m the mom, which in my house means I’m the buzz kill.

I’m the “don’t forget your homework,” “you have to eat a vegetable,” “here’s your permission slip” member of the family. I’m the constant reminder, always nagging, making sure it gets done mom, which would make my role as the “enforcer” completely rational. Except that’s not me.

I think because I have to so often play the role of the spoil sport, I’m also the “one more minute,” “potato chips for breakfast,” “toy shopping spree!” Mom.

It’s also my working mom guilt coming into play.

Like many moms these days, I work outside of the home, but when it comes to my kids, I’m always apologizing for it.

When my oldest daughter was little, I felt on top of the world as a working mom.

I took her to daycare every day, and my husband picked her up. My schedule allowed for me to be home on Fridays, so we always had one sweet day alone together. I’ve since changed to a traditional Monday – Friday schedule, and it works much better for my family now that my older daughter is in elementary school. Still, in the early years, when days of the week meant nothing, those 24 hours of alone time together were priceless.

You always think it will be easier as your kids get older, but it’s actually becoming more challenging.

Now my six-year-old is acutely aware of the other moms who are the class parent, who chaperone every school trip, who never miss a field day. I do what I can, but I can’t be there all the time. Which I guess brings me back to the start of this post.

To make up for what I consider my shortcomings in the parenting arena, I’m a complete pushover. I’m the good cop. 

I unapologetically spoil them with toys, clothes, and pretty much no rules when I’m in charge. So thank goodness for my normally sweet, passive husband for laying down the law with them when they walk all over me.

It’s the balance I need to make this life work.

He can tell them to brush their teeth, put away their toys, and get ready for bed. He can remind the big one to use the bathroom before leaving the house and finding her shoes. And he can stand strong when she pushes the limits with us and needs a few toys (temporarily) taken away.

I’ll be there waiting in our “cuddle corner” of the couch to snuggle her up when she’s sad about the rules. I’ll help him enforce them, but in this one little part of parenthood, I’ll just be the good cop.

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