Father’s Day in a Two Mom Family

In the early 90s, there was a popular TV show where the baby affectionately called the dad “not the mama.” This was always just an entertaining catchphrase until our daughter essentially deemed my wife “not the mama.” You see, in our two mom household, from the moment our little one was born, we both referred to each other as Mama because we are both female identifying parents. 

Factor in the influence of the world, as far as peers and entertainment, and children realize the need for differentiation. For our family, this meant, one parent must be Mama, and the other Dada—a case in point for why representation of all sorts matters. So, as her first words emerged, our daughter set our names: I am Mama, and my wife is Dada. 

I am generally a confident person, especially when it comes to my identity and sexuality, but for some reason, when our daughter started calling my wife Dada, I entered a period of adjustment and defensiveness. When you spend so much of your existence ready to defend your life, love, and family, adding in a new element where questions or confrontation may occur left me at the ready to defend. Oftentimes, I found myself wanting to head it off at the pass by chuckling and offering a lighthearted quip.

Praise the Lord for children and the unique ways they make us confront our own personal and world views and grow from them.

Fast forward to now, and I tend to only hold my breath at my wife being called Dada when we are in public restrooms, locker rooms, or changing rooms, where vulnerability runs high and visibility is low. It leaves me in a place of feeling concern for both my family’s well being and the (dis)comfort of strangers occupying the same space whom could be left wondering if said dada is a man lurking in a private area. Hopefully, if the day ever comes when I have to do more than hold my breath in these circumstances, the stranger on the other side meets us with an open mind because seldom are happy outcomes forged from fear.

People tend to struggle imagining family dynamics outside of their own. When you’re in a same sex relationship that eventually becomes a two mom household, this can really throw people for a loop. Tact flies out the window and narrow-minded questions come bubbling out, like “Who is the real mom?” or “Who is the man of the house?” We are both real moms, one of us just so happens to share some DNA. I always think the man of the house one is especially entertaining. We both fulfill roles necessary to keep our home functioning optimally based on our own specific skill sets. Do I cook and clean? Yes. Does my wife take out the trash and own more power tools? Sure enough. But I’m also the one who squashes the scary bugs, relocates the snakes, deals with the random mouse, and if one of us had to be deemed the leader of our household, that’d be me as well. I’m not going to go down the rabbit hole that is breaking down gender roles, but I can assure you, our lives lack nothing with no “man of the house.”

Celebrating Father’s Day 

This Father’s Day, I find myself alongside mamas all around, full of love, adoration, and respect for my spouse and coparent to our children—except the dada I am celebrating is a woman. Back when we celebrated our first Mother’s Day together, we realized that neither of us was getting to give or receive the kind of day we felt our role in parenthood deserved. That is when we decided together that I would be celebrated on Mother’s Day and my wife would be celebrated on Father’s Day.

Truthfully, it’s the perfect arrangement, at least for our two mom family. I want to have an entire weekend devoted to showing my wife how loved and appreciated she is for all that she adds to our lives. A weekend where she can make—or not have to make—the decisions, like where or what to eat, and she can enjoy all the finer things in life without having to take turns, like sleeping in on both Saturday AND Sunday.

The dada of this family might not look like the rest of the dadas out there, but she sure is the best one we could ask for.