Couple dynamics in contemporary families is a complex, almost incomprehensible affair. Our roles should not be defined by gender we promulgate, yet within the confines of our individual homes, away from prying eyes of family, friends and society; we are often left wondering what it means to be The Wife or The Husband. We battle stereotypes and prejudicious beliefs that are deeply entrenched within our conscience and despite our elaborate education, extensive travel and exposure to varied cultures and experiences, we are left confused and conflicted.
Stay-at-home- dads and “helpful” husbands are sometimes demeaned. Women and mothers who work are often arraigned.
The only smart way to deal with all the internal conflict is to often just let things slide, and treat each day on it’s own merit. To not assign strict domestic roles and treat each task and chore as a separate entity. Easier said than done, I know. And what works for us, may not work for you and your family.
Weekends are ironically, the hardest days. A day(s) that should ideally be spent with emphasis on rest and recuperation, more often than not ends up being one of chaos and haste. The woman goes to sleep on the eve of the day in question, her mind full of plans and an almost a minute by minute blueprint for the next day. Of course, it is an entirely different matter how much of it actually transpires in reality. The man, despite his earnest intentions to help is mostly looking forward to a quiet day of eating and seating. Eating delicious (preferably home cooked) meals and ‘seating’ in front of the television, on the couch with his best friend aka ‘portal to the internet’ (not his wife in this case) on his lap.
At the end of the day, you are left harried and irritated, both of you; thanks to your different approaches and agendas. And instead of looking forward to or being prepared for another hectic work week ahead, you start the week jaded and fatigued. The cycle if not interrupted, rolls on viciously until it all reaches tipping point one day.
Therefore, for the sake of healthy experimentation and change, I have decided to not have even an iota of a plan this weekend. I have no clue when I might put the laundry in or if and when I might prep some meals for the week. Would I study for a bit? Would I actually check my blog or reply to my emails? Will I take Lil Z to the park or the beach? Will there be time to pick up some new toys and books for The Little One? Can I finally get to completing my weekly log?
Who the hell knows! All I know is that it’s almost time for lunch, and the sum total of what I have managed to do this morning is lounge on the couch and flick the laptop open, type random rubbish to you folks as I watch Morgan Freeman give the performance of a lifetime as Ellis Boyd “Red” Redding while Mr H and Lil Z snore the morning away.
Have a good one folks.
Till next time..
Dr J.
P.S. By the time I hit the “publish” key it’s past sunset (1730 hours). I sit at Corniche, sipping some tepid tea, alongside the weekend crowd; with the oddly shaped pyramidal Sheraton on my left, the quiet sea in front of me and the maddening Doha traffic to my right. So if anyone is around here, pop in and say hello. Or marhaba!
