When he 'mothers', she 'fathers'
Santi W.E. Soekanto, Contributor, Depok
Like everybody else, my husband and I do not appreciate the current jostling for position in the House of Representatives.
We think that it reflects the new legislators' ineptitude in apportioning rights, obligations and individual skills. We, on the other hand, are great believers in the concept of division of labor. This is why he stays home to "mother" our children while I go "fathering" by working in a (socially) better-appreciated job in Jakarta.
Why?
For one, because I am a rotten cook, whereas my husband can slap up a gourmet meal out of last year's leftovers still lurking in the darkest corner of the fridge.
The most compelling reason, however, is that he is the better parent -- ever so funny, gentle and patient with the kids -- while I still get an adrenaline rush out of running after challenging office assignments that promise big bonuses.
Every morning, the Hubby maps out the chores and lessons for our teenage daughter, Sister (who is home-schooled) and takes five-year-old Baby to school to teach her and a bunch of other kids there. He ensures that she eats her lunch, kisses her cuts when she falls off her bike, plays with and reads to her, and brings her home.
Every morning I rush after the bus that will take me to work. After working productively for several hours, I rush home in time to meet Baby from school. Not because I have to, given Hubby's competence in childcare, but because I want to.
As soon as I get home, I can be a mother again, with a job that I actually love even more, as it means I can then shower the kids with kisses and scream at appropriate intervals (never at the same time, however). Hubby is then back in his "fathering" mode: being the imam when we say our prayers, dealing with a tough landlord and the local thugs who come to the door demanding "cigarette money", as well as fixing electronic appliances and fending off the boys with a crush on Sister.
The beauty of this job division of ours is that it is carried out willingly.
For the first time in 16 years of his journalistic career, my husband recently became intentionally jobless. Starting out as a cub reporter in a community magazine when he was still 16, he became its chief editor three years ago. When his term ended earlier this year, we decided that he should get a better job teaching his own and other people's children, both at home and in school.
Now he does not make as much money as he used to, but after some glitches in the initial phase of this new household management, it has ceased to matter. We are convinced that we are giving our daughters the best teacher in the world for them, while enabling me to work more effectively now that I do not have to worry about finding a good child-minder.
By the way, Hubby may be more familiar with the stove at home, but regular sessions of martial arts have taught him how to break iron bars with one swipe of the side of his right palm, so there is nothing sissy about him cooking spaghetti for Baby.
Some people do frown at what is actually the perfect arrangement for us. It's at least for the time being, because there may come a time when we wish for different things. Flexibility is the name of the game.
After all, our aim is to simply pool our strengths together to give the children the best learning experience and family life possible. For instance, Hubby speaks Arabic, knows the history of Islam by heart and reads the Koran better, while I speak and write better English, so it is clear who teaches what at home.
To be sure, we get plenty of criticism from several quarters. When I stood up and expressed support for a father to be involved in child rearing and house chores as much as possible, my so- called "fundamentalist" Muslim friends derided me for being a "feminist".
"I do not wish you to write for my magazine because I do not want you to spread your feminist thinking to our readers," sniffed one journalist friend.
What stunned me, however, was the stance of some of my self- proclaimed "liberal" Muslim friends.
At a recent gathering, an executive of a large media outlet incessantly complained about how after hours of hard work, she still had to rush home to care for her sick child, while her husband was able to keep on working unencumbered by such obligations.
Another friend, a writer, moaned about how no matter how high they have gone on the social and career ladder rungs, women were still expected to rush home to care for the children.
"That's not very fair, is it?" the executive complained.
The only male at the table laughed out loud.
"It's unfair but unfortunately that's the way it is. No matter how far you advance, you would still have to rush home and be responsible for child care," he said. "Otherwise, you would be haunted by guilty feelings."
He shrugged to display his powerlessness to change the situation, adding that he, too, still expected his wife to do all the mothering. Then he turned to me. "Why do you rush home after work?"
"For the thrill of it," I joked. "Some people go to discos for excitement, I go home to my kids, who usually make me emit even more noises than any discos could. After yelling at your kid because she poked a wooden stick into your floppy disk drive, what other excitement would you need?"
Seriously though, why can't there be a third way? For instance, where men and women taking pleasure in child rearing without really haggling over which tasks are male-oriented and which are the domain of women? There are some prescribed fathering and mothering roles, but they are not the whole story of parenting!
"Don't tell me you do not feel guilty for going to work and leaving your kids?" my liberal friend insisted.
"Not really," I returned. "The reason why I go to work is so I could go home and watch how my children light up when they open the door for me. Makes me feel heroic, you know. This is probably the reason why you men have been hogging the role for centuries!"
Mothering is not the only factor in child rearing, but fathering is such an undeveloped concept in today's society. Incessant discussions about sexual roles, however, can only do so much. The beauty of job division in parenting is that both father and mother should parent.