Why I’m Fed Up with Traditional Gender Roles – and How I Overrode the System

Last week, my toddler, Will, turned three years old. And I didn’t throw him a party. 

I know. Audible gasp, right?

Here were my reasons:

1. He’s too young to know that he wasn’t having a party (and too young to remember this for a session with his therapist in 20 years…I think);
2. I was in the middle of driving operations around a huge Have Her Back event in Silicon Valley; and
3. The steady drumbeat of other personal and professional obligations and deadlines that make up my (and I’m sure your) daily life were seemingly insurmountable.

Something had to give. And on this occasion, it wasn’t work. (Ask HP’s CCO Karen Kahn.)

My husband, however, had the audible-gasp reaction when I proclaimed the non-party plan a few months ago. “How could we NOT throw him a party? Doesn’t he deserve to be with his friends?”

The truth is Will spends more time with his friends at school than he does with us. By a landslide.

The other truth is that even though I have a wonderful, supportive, partnering, involved husband, much of the emotional labor and many of the traditional “female” gender roles in our family fall on me.

And I own a pin that says “Wild Feminist.”

How did I let this happen???

The fact that the fate of Will's birthday party completely depended on me shows the level of responsibility I bear the burden of to plan and execute these “life” events – as I did (on autopilot) for his first and second birthdays…and the poster board for his classroom celebration…and our holiday cards…and the birth announcements of both boys…and the scheduling of the doctors' appointments…and the holiday gift buying…and the baby registry…and the wedding registry…

You’re getting the point, right?

 Autopilot works effectively and efficiently until it doesn’t. And when it doesn’t, it’s up to you to flip the switch and override the system.

Gone are the days of birthday backyard BBQs and Betty Crocker cakes. We don't even have a backyard. We live in a condo that barely fits the four of us and our golden retriever comfortably. When our Instacart delivery person crosses the threshold of our front door, the walls feel like they’re closing in.

And I ask you, have you ever planned a child’s birthday party in a city before? It makes planning a work event for 100+ adults feel like a cake walk. And not a bulldozer, construction-themed cake walk either. Trust me, I know.

Come take a stroll with me down Emotional Labor Lane, will you?

Today, if you want to have a birthday party for your child in Chicago, you have to research venues months in advance, put down a deposit to lock in the date, create a party theme (complete with coordinated invitations, decorations, party favors, cake, cookies and more), compile an invite list, build a digital or print invitation, manage RSVPs, chase non-responders, hire food and beverage vendors, buy birthday gifts, select an outfit that is acceptable for polite conversation with your peers while also befitting laying on the ground to reach a toy that has gotten stuck under something heavy AND source an outfit for the birthday child that screams (at an indoor-voice volume) “effortlessly instagrammable.”

“Oh that ‘I’m digging being 2' excavator shirt Will’s wearing? I just picked it out…online (after looking for something in three brick and mortar stores, scrolling through 15 kid websites, ordering three options in four sizes and pre-washing it before party day so the birthday boy experienced optimal comfort.)" 

Easy breezy, right?

Not this year.

I felt – and still feel – totally confident and at peace with the decision I made. My sanity and desire for equilibrium outweighed any mom guilt that may have pressured me to make a different choice in the past.

And here’s the secret no one’s telling you: you don’t have to do things the way you’ve always done them. You don’t have to do things the way other people do them. You don’t have to do things the way they were done for you. 

We get one life. Shouldn’t we be in the driver’s seat of our own?  

If you are suffering from either of these common adult afflictions: Traditional Gender Roles or Parental Autopilot, skip the doctor. Take two “not gonna do it’s” and call me in the morning. You’re going to feel amazing. Trust me, I (now) know.