Slacktide: Alaska moms kick butt

  • By Geoff Kirsch
  • Sunday, May 8, 2016 1:02am
  • Neighbors

Few people appreciate what goes into being a mom like a stay-at-home dad.

Eight years ago, my wife and I faced that all-important question: which one of us would go back to work after family leave? She was a lawyer; I was unemployed. The decision made itself (and we both got to keep our respective careers).

Since then, I’ve spent nearly a decade embedded with an army of moms; I’m right down in trenches alongside them, wipin’ butts and takin’ names. And let me tell you, these moms are some bad mama jamas.

The demands of motherhood are incredible—just laundry, alone. And the rewards? Well, the rewards usually entail more laundry. So much laundry.

Raising children is a full-time job (only with bosses who still sometimes wet the bed … and it’s your bed). For most moms, that’s in addition to your “regular” full-time job … and possibly even another part-time job after that. Or at least a little side gig hawking essential oils.

True, attitudes continue to shift regarding gender roles in parenting; today’s dads are, by and large, more involved in child-rearing—especially if it can be achieved without having to put down their beer. But inequality persists. For instance, group texts have been flying fast and furious lately about summer camp plans. I’m the only person on that distribution list who pees standing up (at least that I know of), just like how emails from my son’s old baby playgroup used to start “Hey, Ladies (and Geoff).” And have you been to a kid’s birthday party, lately? It’s like a yoga pants convention. Sponsored by La Croix.

I’ve noticed similar mom-dominance, or “mominance,” at doctor’s appointments swim club practice, figure skating lessons, Girl Scouts meetings (actually, even I usually bail on those) — basically, anything that entails the shuttling back-and-forth of kids, gear and snacks. Can’t forget the snacks; perish the thought of an activity without snacks.

Point is, even in 2016 — the year we may very well see this country’s first female president — society still expects moms to shoulder an unequal share of parental responsibilities. And this is on top of their already disproportionate physical burden. Mom carries a child inside her body for nine months; dad’s biological contribution is done in what, like four minutes?

All this bears recognizing, especially today, Mother’s Day. In fact, is that the best we can give our moms? One measly day? I say we make it a whole week … or at the very least a Mother’s Thursday-through-Sunday. Four-day weekend!

Of course, Alaska moms are in a league of their own (and I don’t mean a recreational hockey league, although that’s true of many Alaska moms, too).

First of all, the weather up here adds degrees of difficulty to every pursuit—perhaps none more than parenting, as anyone who’s ever tried keeping mittens on a toddler can attest.

And then, there’s the mess. Alaska is messy. Kids are messy. Together, they’re my mom’s worst nightmare. Seriously, the woman brings her own rubber gloves every time she visits.

In Alaska, the prospect of bear mauling is always a possibility — I used to walk my infant daughter blasting “Slayer” on the trail — and an eagle might very well snatch your baby right out of your Bjorn. Also, if there’s any water, at least one if not all of your children will fall into that water — “accidentally” — especially if you didn’t bring a change of clothes and are still several miles from anywhere resembling warm and dry.

Plus, Alaska moms know stuff — like home remedies involving olive oil and inventive uses for old yogurt containers, but also how to jump a car battery or operate an excavator.

Alaska moms are fishing boat captains, wilderness guides, carpenters, mountaineers, ski racers, welders, doulas, miners, ultra-runners, truck drivers and senior U.S. Senators. And then there’s the most famous Alaska mom of all — the mother of all mothers, so to speak — mama grizz, herself, Sarah Palin, or, as I like to call her, She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.

Actually, that’s a bit harsh, likening Sarah Palin to Voldemort — especially on Mother’s Day. Although, even the Ministry of Magic can’t deny: she’s back.

But you know what? Part of me secretly hopes Palin gets tapped again for vice-presidential running mate. Think of what that would mean for the state’s economy, in T-shirt sales alone.

And he’s just crazy enough to do it, too. You know who I’m talking about: He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Actually, that’s not a fair comparison to Voldemort either. Donald Trump is more like He-Who-Must-Be-Named-Constantly-In-Fact-He-Puts-His-Name-On-Everything-In-Big-Bold-Letters.

Anyway, Happy Mother’s Day to all you moms out there.

And a special shout out to one in particular: my wife. I may be our kids’ primary caregiver, but I’ll never be their mom. Which is why I buy them so much candy. And never make them bathe.

• Geoff Kirsch is a Juneau-based writer and humorist. “Slack Tide” appears every second and fourth Sunday in Neighbors.

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