My husband is a great Dad.  But he’s actually a great mom too.

I know it’s 2016, and gender roles are squishier than they used to be. Who is to say what mother’s and what father’s roles really are meant to be when we are all in the mix of working and parenting these days? Today, there are so many different types of families: two mothers, two fathers, single dads, and single moms.  And very publicly as in the case of the Kardashians, a Mom who used to be a Dad. 

But despite all the progress in the mix of families, recent studies have reported that even in homes where two parents work, women still have the bulk of responsibility for children’s schedules and housework. 

Except in our family.  While we may be fairly traditional in the division of household management, gender is no indication of who will take on the more traditional “motherly” role in our house.   

For example, the more “mushy” one in the family from the first moment our children were born was my husband. He’s the one who cried when they were born.  I was crying because it hurt.  He reveled in every diaper change.  I was terrified I’d hurt them.  He focused on all their strengths.  I worried about their behavior. 

In many ways the mother and father we are today were born of the parents we came from and the timing of when we became parents. 

My husband’s parents were “traditional” in their roles and their behavior.  His father who was raised in a very modest household, served this country in World War II and after losing his job at 38 set out to provide for his family by running an auto parts store in the Finger Lakes. His Dad went to work early and came home late, often not even eating dinner with the family. Mom ran the household, did the books for the family business from home so she could be near the kids, and volunteered for charities. 

Family lore has it that my husband’s Dad was so engrossed in his work that he came home one day put the keys on the piano, went to bed, and didn’t know the piano had been moved until he found his keys on the floor the next day. 

Not to say his father didn’t love his kids, he did.  He just didn’t spend a lot of time with them.  There was no leaving work early to go to their sports games.  No sitting and cuddling. He influenced them in many ways with his work ethic and his discipline, but not with the logistics of parenting.  

That was all about his Mom.  She was the one who literally baked the cookies, locked them up so they wouldn’t eat too many of them, and made sure my husband and his brother did their homework, and chores, ate dinner, brushed their teeth, and went to bed.  Mom ruled the house and raised the children. Dad worked, came home, slept, and went back to work. 

But my husband’s view on fatherhood, was truly formed when his Mom was diagnosed with cancer when he was six years old.  Because she had lost her own mother at a young age, she was the one who taught him to say “I love you” every day.  She showed him how precious being a mother was because you might not live to see your kids grow up. She savored each moment of each day with her sons and the rest of the world, not knowing if it would be her last.  Out of the tragic illness and passing of his mother, my husband was given the gift of her “maternal instinct” and emotional intelligence.  

In our house, while my mother worked as a therapist and had her own practice, she too ran the household. Dinner was ready by 5:00 p.m. so my Dad could go back to the office and work. She’s the one who figured out the logistics of where the four of us were supposed to be and how we were going to get there.  He did the taxes and paid the bills. He would literally sit in a bathrobe at a tiny table in his bedroom and we all steered clear not because he was in his bathrobe but because paying the made him cranky.

But while my parents took on traditional gender roles in terms of managing the household, it was my Dad who was the mushy one. He’d stop me in the hallway and grab my cheeks and say, “Do you know how much I love you Pamela?” My mom was way too busy making food and making sure we were all where we were supposed to be.  

We were products of tradition and yet came to parenting as a social revolution in gender roles was happening. More women were choosing to work.  And more men were getting more involved in the day to day parenting doing things their dads would never have done. 

After we had our son I didn’t choose to “stay” home, I was home more because I was a free-lance actor.  There was no choosing, I never knew when and if I would be working outside the home.  Ironically after being profiled with a group of mothers for an article in Washingtonian Magazine about “choosing motherhood” I actually went to work full time in theater in the long-running show Shear Madness at the Kennedy Center.  It was then that my husband truly defined his fatherhood.  He became the primary caregiver, diaper changer, and dinner provider. 

Friends would ask me who was “babysitting” our son when I did the show.  I said, he’s not babysitting - it’s called being a father. Still they would marvel that my husband could “take care” of our baby by himself 6 nights a week and with a matinee on Sunday.  But it allowed me to follow my dreams and to soar in a career that was one of my choosing.  

I will always be grateful that my husband leaning into fatherhood allowed me to be what I always dreamed I could be, a working actor while our children were young.  He didn’t see that as my kids losing a mom, but instead an opportunity for him to step up and be the kind of father his Dad never got a chance to be in the early 1960’s. 

He became the Dad who knew how to make dinner.  The Dad who could plan everything from after school activities to spring break vacations. He reveled in the milestone of all family members getting Outlook so he could send invitations for every family event so we can all be on the same calendar. He became what our kids refer to as “OC Dad” because he’s a neat freak who makes sure the house is always clean and straightened up at the end of the night. 

Even though my husband inherited his own father’s workaholic tendencies, about ten years ago when our business had some dramatic challenges, I returned to the “traditional” workforce (instead of the “creative” one) consulting with executives around the world on leadership and communication skills. 

My husband is my biggest cheerleader and my biggest supporter. He picks me up from the airport.  And has dinner waiting when I came home late from work. And even in our darkest hours through challenging times, he’s taught me and our kids that that we should revel and savor each moment of each day, just the way his mother did. 

It’s my kids who are lucky to have each of us to each play a role in their lives; the role that’s necessary in the moment, making them who they will become by getting them through the every days of childhood.  

In the end our kids don’t care who’s “supposed” to do what they are traditionally supposed to do on their behalf, they just want it done for them.  My son once called me in the middle of the day to ask me what was for dinner. I said, “I’m at the airport on my way to Dallas, ask Dad.” 

And one night after I came into kiss my daughter good night and told her I was leaving at five a.m. for a flight, she said, "No, Mom, I need you to stay home and be Mom.” I kissed her goodnight and said, “Dad’s got you covered.”  

Lucky for my kids, Dad is often the best Mom and Dad they have at home when they need him. He’s taught me what it means to be a mother, to be a parent, and to love unconditionally by the way he loves them and the way he loves me. 

Happy Father's and Mother’s Day to you, my love.