Dear Parents: Income Isn’t Hierarchy

Dear Parents,

I have some words.

But first, a quick lesson about our species. We have five basic needs for survival. They are:

• Food

• Water

• Shelter

• Clean Air

• Sleep

We also have an inherent need for

• Belonging

So let’s count that one as a bonus, but not really. It’s a hard #6.

Here’s the deal. No matter your job, your personality, your preferences, or your propensity to be louder than the person next to you, you are no more human than someone else. Your basic needs for survival are the exact same as everyone else around you.

Even your spouse.

Parents. Hear me: This isn’t The Hunger Games. This is marriage. We want both parties to stay alive.

I do not care who makes more money. Who has to wake up earlier. Who has an office job and who stays at home with the kids. I do not care if “you just aren’t good at handling sleep deprivation” or “parenting comes more naturally to her.”

Oh my gosh would you listen to yourself.

Needs are needs. Period.

Let’s unpack this a bit, starting with the stay-at-home-mom vs. working parent dynamic. Point blank, stay-at-home-moms need to be every bit as awake and alert as the working spouse— if not more. She has to keep track of toddlers trying to kill themselves with unassuming household objects, remember when it’s lunchtime, then use a knife to cut the food while standing on one foot because the other one is outstretched behind her to block the toddler from pulling open the dishwasher. Using a knife balancing on one foot is best done with some sleep. Just ask the ole circus travelers. Mom also has to use her literal body to generate food and feed the baby, remember every doctor’s appointment, birthday, and nap time. Then probably shop for and cook dinner, too.

And Office Parent has what…a meeting tomorrow? A power-point presentation?

I mean. I’m literally embarrassed for you for ever assuming that means you deserve more sleep.

She’s taking care of ACTUAL HUMAN LIFE. Unless the Office Spouse is a brain surgeon, pilot, or crocodile wrangler, I would argue that she should actually be the one offered the most rest. The stakes are high.

You might be thinking: But sleep isn’t equally accessible for both parties! Not my fault! Okay fine. If the woman’s body provides the nighttime calories for your baby, then are other needs made more accessible to her in return? What about food? If she is lacking sleep, could he— perhaps— make dinner? Prep her lunch before he leaves in the morning?

Call me crazy, but if the basic human need for sleep is more accessible for him, let’s make food more accessible for her.

The solution isn’t “Welp, sorry, babe, not my fault I don’t have boobs.” How about, “Let me meet your other basic needs, since your body allows me the benefit of getting sleep.”

Novel concept, I’m aware.

Side note, I know that not all stay-at-home spouses are moms. But women are widely known to be the at-home parent, and are also more widely known for putting up with fewer survival basics. I’m not going to open that can of worms which would clarify why women are known for those two things, but let me clarify this for you:

Both spouses are entitled to basic human needs. Humanity is not tied to a salary.

For dual-income families— the completion of household chores, cooking, remembering/making doctor appointments, cleaning, laundry, bath times… are those all evenly split? If not, is it falling on the person whose salary is less? Probably the woman? (Ever heard of equal pay? lolololol) Because that’s some serious horse crap.

Income does not equal importance. SAY IT WITH ME! Income does not equal importance.

(Also “less pay” doesn’t mean “easier job.” Wrap your head around that for a second, too, if you wouldn’t mind.)

A bank account does not indicate whose human life is more important. Yes, money provides means for food and shelter, but let’s be honest here. You don’t get to say “you’re doing your part” and then throw her humanity to the wind. All jobs are work— salary is not indicative of who deserves more rest once they’re home. Staying at home with the kids— it’s work. And it doesn’t even have built-in lunch breaks, clean bathrooms without people staring at you, or that little boost of belonging (human need!) with adult coworkers.

Listen, this isn’t an argument that whoever has the harder job has dibs on needs, so it doesn’t matter if the mom’s job at home is actually harder. Who cares whose day is “more work”? Not the point. Even if one spouse has the “easiest” day of all time— maybe there’s only one child to care for or their job is to test new donut flavors— an “easy” day doesn’t mean that person doesn’t need clean air, sleep, water, food, shelter, and belonging. Period.

This might sound SO CRAZY, but Aaron wakes up early every morning so he can make me oatmeal before going to work, which I like to eat for lunch. We also take turns making dinner. Sleep is not accessible for me, so he makes food more accessible. (Anyone can cook. It’s not hard to read and follow a recipe. I do not care what the excuse is.) He spends most of his weekends playing with the kids not only because he misses them, but so that I can take a nap or maybe have a Skype call with my girlfriends for adult interaction. Belonging. Sleep. Needs as necessary as air.

Old fashion men might think this isn’t fair. He brings home the bacon! He should be playing golf on weekends and dinner should be waiting for him on the table. (I just threw up in my mouth a little.) And women are often floored when they hear all that he does. It makes me sad.

My husband recognizes that my needs are just as important as his. He knows that I need time to recharge in order to do my job well, and also because— wait for it— he cares about me. As a person. A human being. And for the record— I care about him, as well. His rest and hobbies are important to me, too! We both prioritize each other, and it works out pretty darn well.

The takeaway: Helping meet basic needs goes both ways, with zero hierarchy dependent on income.

In the Leyko house, respect is mutual. Our lives are fluid in our work and rest— he’s not 8 hours on at the office, then off on nights and weekends. And I’m not on 24/7 until I have a meltdown, then get a single spa day that Dad pats himself on the back for gifting on Mother’s Day, as if it makes up for months of living with no breaks. Yeah no. We fill in the gaps for each other day-in and day-out. We are in a constant dance of working and parenting and resting and enjoying and sacrificing and giving.

I wish homes weren’t divided based on income. I wish filling bank accounts wasn’t seen as “doing my part,” while the humanity of the lower earner is traded for dollar bills.

If you’re a parent, your life is no longer evenly divided between work and rest. Buck up. Both of you are human, with needs deserving to be met, no matter if the hours lived add up to money or not.

So, my modern friends, let’s put antiquated and soul-sucking ways of life behind us. Let’s not equate manliness with selfishness and femininity with quiet sacrifice. Let’s do the dance of life together, in step with give and take as we create something beautiful.

Love,

A Human Mother