How mom and dad make it work (and sometimes don't)

Introducing a new series—DIVISION OF LABOR—looking at the highs and lows of parenting

Hello! Welcome to The Purse! There are so many new subscribers thanks to being featured in the Substack newsletter last week! I’m excited you’re here! I know many of you might be expecting another round of HOME ECONOMICS—it’s been amazing to see so much enthusiasm for the series—but for the time being, I’ll only be publishing it once a month. But I’ve got lots of other fun stuff in store, so I hope you’ll keep reading, sharing, and commenting (nicely, please!).

So young and innocent and completely unaware of the years of dishwashing and diaper-changing that lie ahead.

A few weeks ago, Ken was traveling for work, and it felt like my whole world was off balance. I always forget how hard it is to be a solo parent (silly me). I missed having a teammate in this sport known as parenting. And then our kid had an accident at school and had to come home early (he’s fine, thank goodness), and my afternoon plans to get work done were thrown out the window. I posted about my frustration on Instagram and, in a DM with a friend, made a joke that I felt like the universe was trying to remind me just how much I rely on Ken to co-parent.

After nearly eight years of parenthood, we’ve gotten pretty good at sharing the burdens and joys of raising our son. As our kid has gotten older, I think it’s gotten (somewhat) easier. We spend a lot less time down on the floor playing Hot Wheels and a lot more time dropping our kid off at playdates and enjoying a few hours of freedom (er, more likely running errands). And after 20 years of being in a relationship, we’ve also established whose chores are whose, and mostly it works. Ken makes the coffee; I make the beds. I cook; he cleans up dinner. He loads the dishwasher; I try not to go back in and rearrange the top shelf. 

Who else can relate to this?

Of course, like every couple with kids and dual careers, we struggle sometimes. There are times when I feel like I am managing more than him. (See my rant-y holiday newsletter post.) And I’m sure he would say there are lots of times when he picks up more of the childcare slack. (See the year I wrote a book and went on a four-city book tour, leaving Ken home with a toddler!) 

Ken is much better than me at finding time in his day to exercise and focus on his hobbies. (He’s in a band, and he managed to watch every 49ers game this football season). I’m very jealous of this. He’s also much much better at playing with our kid. They do all sorts of fun things together, from sports to Legos—activities, frankly, I don’t really want to do. I often feel like when they’re playing together, I should be doing house work or freelance work, because goodness knows there’s always more to be done. I struggle to find time to exercise or sit down during the day to read a book, and I don’t really have a hobby. I nearly died last year when, at a school event, my kid announced that Ken’s hobby was playing guitar and my hobby was doing chores. I don’t know how to fix this—and I don’t really know any other moms who have cool hobbies. (As my friend Johanna says, shopping and exercise are not hobbies.) Let me know if you have any suggestions.

Recently, I’ve noticed an interesting trend among some of the smart, cool women I follow on Instagram. (Hi, Hitha and Catherine and Jo!) They’ve been sharing how they split up the responsibilities of raising children and managing a home. Their followers are curious how they “do it all” (why will still think this is possible is beyond me, but we do, so!), and these women are very open about how a supportive spouse makes it somewhat easier. 

But I always want to know more. Because a to-do list isn’t the whole picture. Saying Ken does all the dishes and I do all the cooking doesn’t really explain how we make things work. So today I’m rolling out another new series, DIVISION OF LABOR, where a couple with kids shares a diary of a single day. 

To kick things off, I’m starting with me and Ken. What follows is a peek at a recent Sunday. It's a fairly typical weekend day, although I’ll note a few things that make it a little abnormal. It was really cold, so we didn’t get outside at all. On Saturday, we had been out nearly all day, so we felt less guilty about taking things slow. Also, as I mentioned earlier, Ken had been out of town, and I was really behind at work, so I spent a lot of the day working. I usually try to get a couple of hours in, but this is more of a work-heavy Sunday than usual. And last but not least, we don’t usually watch this much football, but seeing that it was the NFL playoffs, we had it on more than usual. (Ken would like you to know he’s not your stereotypical sports bro. His interest in the NFL is confusing for me, too.)

I’m not opening up this series to everyone—I have a list of couples I’ve already asked to participate, so look for their stories in the coming months. But I will take suggestions if you know someone you’d like to be featured. (Or pitch yourself if you’ve got a good story!) In future issues, I’ll probably include a questionnaire, so if you have specific questions you’d like couples to answer, please drop them in the comments. Also, please be kind in the comments. I know my kid probably gets too much screen time, and I should have made a salad with dinner, but I didn’t! I’m human!

Also, you can always feel free to reply to this newsletter. I read all your emails and promise to respond, but as any of my friends will tell you, it might take a minute.

Division of Labor Vol. 1: Full-time editor (husband, K) and full-time freelancer (wife, L), living in Brooklyn with one school-aged kid.

4:30 a.m.

L: Kid wakes up and calls for me. I crawl into his bed, he tells me he had a bad dream, we cuddle, and he falls back asleep pretty quickly. Fifteen minutes or so later, I crawl back into our bed. Ken asks if the kid is okay. We both fall back asleep, too.

K: I have no recollection of waking up and asking if the kid was okay. But I’m glad I did.

7:30 a.m.

L: Wake up again. This is late for us, but we stayed up watching the end of the Niners/Packers game. I feed the cat (my mom’s cat, who’s staying with us while she and my dad are out of town), make myself a cup of coffee, and crawl back into bed with my laptop to watch a show. (Right now I’m watching The Bold Type on Hulu.) I drink coffee while watching TV pretty much every morning (during the week waking up at 5 a.m. to make sure I have time). It is my moment of sanity.

About 7:45 a.m., the kiddo wakes up, grabs his iPad, and crawls into bed with me. This is our weekend routine. He watches YouTube videos (we only let him watch YouTube on the weekend) while I work on my laptop. It’s one of my favorite parts of the weekend.

K: We almost never sleep this late. I leave around 7:45 for a 7-mile run. (I run three mornings in a row and then take a day off.) I’m still riding the high from the 49ers win, and I listen to a podcast recapping the whole game. My man Brock Purdy really came through.

8:30 a.m.

L: After I watch my show, I mess around online a bit. I remember that I need to pay our water bill and update the monthly auto pay for our maintenance bill because the amount increased at the beginning of the year.

A mom friend texts about coordinating day camps for our boys this summer. I know this is a project I need to get started on, but I’m dreading it. 

Her text reminds me that I never looked at the recent email newsletter from the school principal about important dates, etc. I add a few dates to my calendar and briefly look through the big camp database some parents compiled. (Thank goodness for the proactive parents who make it easier for the rest of us!) I don’t get very far because this is not what I’m supposed to be focused on today.

K: I get back from my run and take a shower. 

9:00 a.m. 

L: Kiddo wanders off to play video games in the living room with Ken (yes, he usually gets a lot of screen time on weekend mornings, if I’m being honest). I ask Ken to get the kiddo breakfast, but I don’t think he hears me, and he’s busy with his own breakfast. I get started writing an article for my CUNY class.

K: While having a bowl of cereal, I do the Wordle and Connections. This is my moment of zen. 

9:30 a.m.

L: I keep saying I’m going to get up and make the kid breakfast, but I’m also sucked into writing my CUNY article. 

K: I make the kid breakfast, which entails pouring Rice Chex into a bowl (milk on the side). We’re not talking about a Spanish omelet or anything. But he wouldn’t eat an omelet anyway.

10:00 a.m.

K: While the kid is playing video games and Lindsey is working, I wash a bunch of dishes and generally tidy up the kitchen.

10:30 a.m. 

L: I finally pull myself away from my writing and go take a shower. Since we’re in no rush, I take the time to shave and do a Vitamin C mask. My shower time is my most sacred time, and Ken knows better than to interrupt.

K: I play Lego Star Wars on Nintendo for about a half hour with the boy. Then I suggest we do something else.

11:00 a.m. 

L: I start doing laundry while Ken and the kiddo work on a Lego project. I do pretty much all the laundry because I have a very specific way I like it done. It’s usually a whole day project with our bedroom floor covered in piles of sorted clothes. 

In between loads, I also make the beds. I make our bed every day, and the kid’s bed, most days.

K: The kid and I work on a Lego Minecraft project for about 45 minutes while listening to the new Madness album. (So good!) We make decent progress, and for once, I’m not doing all the work. We even make a stop-motion-animation video using some of the characters and settings we’ve created.

11:30 a.m. 

L: While I’m doing laundry, I remember we need to change two lightbulbs. I find the new bulbs, which are stashed in our laundry room. I change the bulb in kiddo’s lamp, and I ask Ken to change the lightbulb in the kitchen (I even bring in the step stool). He tells me he’ll do it after lunch.

K: The kid and I do our weekly FaceTime with my parents. We talk a lot about the 49ers, since my mom is also a fan. 

12:00 p.m. 

L: I’m tidying up a pile of stuff that inevitably accumulates up on our kitchen island, and there’s a deck of affirmation cards we randomly received in some giveaway. This is the kind of stuff that drives me nuts because it’s essentially just garbage, but throwing it away feels so wasteful. I want to toss it, but Ken opens it up, and we start reading the affirmations and making jokes, and even our kid gets into it. I love the inside family jokes, but also now the cards are spread all over the house. Who’s going to be responsible for cleaning them up?

Ken starts making lunch, and we ask the kid to clean up the Legos. He’s not the best helper, but we’re all working on it. 

I slice up an apple and pour the kid a glass of milk.

K: I make a pepperoni sandwich for the kid and tuna sandwiches for Lindsey and myself. I make a pepperoni sandwich for the kid and tuna sandwiches for Lindsey and myself. To quote an affirmation card, "I am doing the work that works for me."

12:30 p.m.

L: We have lunch. Everyone is on their own screen. Kid watches a Snoopy show on Apple TV, I play Connections, and Ken’s on his own laptop reading out the Niners game.

1:00 p.m. 

L: We clean up lunch, making the kid clear his own dishes. The dishwasher is full, so we decide to run them. Ken mostly handles the dishes, but I do a little rearranging to fit in a few more cups.

I ask Ken to take the suitcase he used for his trip downstairs to our storage locker before he heads off to do a couple of errands. 

I never remember how to dispose of burned-out bulbs, so I put them in a box and stick them in the laundry room. I will deal with that another day.

K: I clean up lunch and throw all the dishes in the dishwasher. 

I change the lightbulb in the kitchen. It seems like our lightbulbs are always burning out. 

1:30 p.m. 

L: I make the kid sit down and do his homework while I work on some Purse projects. I reheat my coffee and check his homework, and we share some M&Ms. I ask him to read for a while before he goes back to playing video games. He doesn’t complain too much. All the while, I’m also folding laundry, putting it away, and throwing new loads in the wash.

K: I do not take the suitcase downstairs at this particular juncture because, well, I forgot.

I walk to the grocery store to pick up a few things we need for the week. There’s a mixup at the deli counter, and we’re stuck with a bunch of unwanted ham. Total disaster. 

On the way home, I stop fast to see a couple of 30-something friends with no kids. They’re having a lazy Sunday, and they remark that I’m “out and about early.” It’s 1:30 p.m.

2:00 p.m. 

L: Ken comes home, we chit chat about this and that, and then I get back to doing some more Purse work. 

K: Kiddo and I play Minecraft for about 30 minutes. I am terrible at this game, and I do not understand it.

2:30 p.m.

L: It’s time to get ready for swim lessons, which we do every Sunday afternoon. We take turns taking our kid. It’s Ken’s turn this week. He packs up the kid’s swim stuff (with some direction from me about where to find the goggles, towel, and flip flops), and I do more laundry.

Getting the kid out the door is a 15-minute process of begging and cajoling. Please put on your socks. And your sweatshirt. Please go to the bathroom. Please put down the football and put on your coat. You need to GO.

K: I pack up the kid’s bag for swim lessons and attempt to get him out the door. This is very difficult.

3:00 p.m. 

L: Ken and the kid leave for swim lessons. I do more laundry and then sit down to record a Reel for Instagram (which never gets posted, LOL, story of my life). I’m luxuriating a bit in a quiet house. It’s the first time I’ve been home alone in a bit. 

K: I take the kid to swim lessons on the subway. We need to change trains, and the whole journey takes about 40 minutes. But we have books and access to NY Times games on my phone, so the time goes quickly.

4:00 p.m. 

L: I realize it’s been a while since I stood up. I turn the dryer on fluff and then set a timer for 10 minutes so I can do a few random things around the apartment. I recently downloaded a sort of workout app called WakeOut that encourages you to exercise in short bursts. I do a 5-minute video, then make some decaf coffee because I haven’t gotten my coffee fix for the day. I grab the fluffed clothes from the dryer and throw in my last load.  

K: Swim lessons begin at 4 and end abruptly at 4:18 because someone pooped in the pool. (It was not our child.)

4:30 p.m.

L: Ken texts that they are stuck waiting for trains. I feel bad, but I’m also glad for a few extra minutes alone. 

K: We get changed and head back to Brooklyn on the train. There are delays, and we wind up waiting 15 minutes for the first train. As the affirmation card says, "I am growing, and I am going at my own pace."

5:30 p.m.

L: Ken and the kid get home. I insist the boy immediately takes a shower since he’s been in a poop pool. While I don’t need to help him shower, I do hang out in the bathroom with him. We do some silly cuddling after he gets out as I try to lather him up with lotion and cut his fingernails. I have a love/hate relationship with this time of day. It’s kind of a hassle, but I know I’ll miss it when it’s gone.

K: I finally take the suitcase down to the basement. Woo-hoo!

6:00 p.m. 

K: I make the kid’s lunch for school the next day. Wowbutter and jelly on whole wheat, with the crusts left on. I make his lunch every day, because he’s a picky eater and refuses to eat the free hot lunch the school offers. After prepping the lunch, I make coffee for the morning

6:30 p.m. 

L: I feed the cat quick and then start to prepare dinner. Tonight, it’s nothing fancy: pizza using Trader Joe’s dough, jar sauce, and pre-shredded cheese. The hardest thing is rolling out the dough, which I’m terrible at. I like to cook, but making dinner every single night often feels like a chore. Every once in a while I’ll get a burst of creativity and make something special, but most nights it’s just our old standbys.

7:00 p.m. 

L: Dinner is delayed because Ken gets caught up with a small project that’s driving him crazy. I tell the kid to stop playing video games (we have a 7 p.m. cutoff), and now I hear a lot of, “What should I do instead?” 

We watch the football game while we eat. We go back and forth over whether we watch TV during dinner—I’d say it’s about 50/50. We have started watching some family shows, which is fun. (We all loved the Muppet Mayhem show on Disney+. We watched a doc series about the Savannah Bananas, and during the summer, we’ll watch random baseball games.) But we also like to have no screens and play music. Either way, it’s hard to get a kid to sit still for dinner.

7:30 p.m. 

L: I sit on the couch and load up my cart on the Target app with some essentials. I don’t hit buy because I’m certain I’m forgetting something. (Reader, I never finish this order. I end up going to Target in-person a week later to buy the stuff.)

K: After dinner, I load all of the plates and silverware into the dishwasher and help the kid brush his teeth before bed.

8:00 p.m.

L: We read to our kid every night before bed. We’ve been doing it since he was a tiny baby, and it’s a really special family tradition. Tonight, we’re reading Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. After we finish a few pages, the kiddo and I do some cuddling, and I tell him a story I make up. I always spend this time with him; it’s a holdover from our nursing days. It’s funny how it has evolved from nursing to a bottle to rocking to this storytelling thing we do now. We also do a lot of laughing and tickling, admittedly not the best thing for calming a kid down.

K: We check in with our buddy Harry Potter. When is this kid going to catch a break?

8:30 p.m. 

L: Kid in bed, Ken turns on the Bills/Chiefs game. We sit on the couch and work on a crossword together, and share a cookie and a drink. This is our nighttime routine pretty much every day that we’re both home (though dessert choice changes, as does what we watch on TV).

K: When it comes to football, I generally only care about the 49ers, but I root hard for the Bills in their playoff game against the hated Chiefs. Buffalo comes close but misses a game-tying field goal in the fourth quarter. My heart goes out to that kicker.

10:00 p.m. 

L: I wash my face while listening to an audio book (right now I’m listening to Glossy, which I have FEELINGS about). While I love to read novels, I really enjoy listening to audio versions of nonfiction books, especially celeb memoirs and business books. This ticks both boxes.

K: I do my nightly 15-minute workout routine, which consists of crunches and pushups. I do this while watching an episode of Dr. Katz: Professional Therapist, the greatest TV show of all time.

10:30 p.m. 

L: Crawl into bed. Try to read a few pages of Demon Copperhead. Fall fast asleep.

K: It’s been a long day. Three pages of Anthony Doerr’s Cloud Cuckoo Land, and I’m off in cloud cuckoo land.