We have two children and MrM is their real, biological parent. He's always been present at home and until last summer before his job changed, did all morning school runs and so on. His parenting style maybe a bit different to mine; he's more likely to shout instructions from bed in the morning whereas I will actually rise from the comfiness of doggy cuddles and a snugly duvet to supervise breakfast is actually being eaten. I am the one who cooks dinner and feeds them. MrM is more likely to take them out to eat if I'm not around. I provide clean clothes, I fill up the food cupboards and treat them to hot chocolate and cookies in Costa or Starbucks if we are out. Taking two kids out for any reason is exhausting and I need the caffeine.
The 5year old is my mini-me. Not only does she look like me, at evenings and weekends I'm allowed no respite. In the mornings, if I am not in my bed, her first words to MrM are "where's Mummy?" Seeing as I seem to be the dogs favourite too (guess who feeds him). Her second question is "where's Ozzie?" MrM will crack a joke we are hiding under the bed. 5yo gives him the silent "death stare" as if he's some kind of random man in our house she has to tolerate. I've privately nicknamed him the Step Dad.
She does nothing for him, she refuses to get dressed, she ignores his requests to pick her toys up from her bedroom floor, she doesn't want him to run her bath, she doesn't want him to help her into her pyjama's, she doesn't want him to read the bedtime story, she just point blank refuses everything.
Mummy has to do it.
How I'm not a slim woman I can't fathom. The amount of times I am up and down the stairs as I'm called to sort out cbeebies on the laptop, even if she is sitting right next to MrM, find her littlest pet shop dog plus referee both the kids fighting over the Lego or because the 9yo just wants her out of his bedroom.
Throw in an eight hour working day and the usual housey duties and sometimes, just sometimes, I wish MrM was the chosen one.