When I Wish Feminism Would Go Out The Window

As most of you know, I was raised with my father. My parents were married, and even though my father traveled a lot, when he was home, he worked from home, so I was around him a lot. He taught me to fish, change tires, change my oil. He was the one who mowed the lawn, washed the cars, fixed things around the house. He played video games with me, helped me in basketball and softball practice, taught me how football worked. Even though my mom did most of the cooking and housework, my father helped. He even on occasion tried to do my hair, it wasn't like my mom, but he tried.

My husband was raised pretty much by his mother. He knew his father, but they weren't close, and he could go months at a time without seeing him. His dad never took him fishing, played video games with him, did sports, or anything of that sort. My husband's fondest memories of his father are watching Knight Rider with him. That is about all he remembers of what his dad did with him. Even though my husband is awesome, it is sometimes painfully obvious he didn't have his father, and I get frustrated with him.

My husband doesn't change oil. He doesn't mow the lawn, he has no idea about lawn maintenance. If something is wrong with the house, it is my job to do it or we have to call someone. I don't do my own oil changes or change my own tires because he feels it is man's work, but then he doesn't do it, and we waste money to have others do it. He doesn't cook, and he doesn't help with housework. He doesn't fish, he doesn't play sports, but he does like to watch basketball and football. I sometimes wish he liked to go to the park, go hiking, take up bike riding, or running, and not have all his hobbies involve a computer, cartoons, electronics, or video games. He wants the male role around the house, but he doesn't really do it. This is where my feminist brain turns off and I get upset. I wish sometimes he did do the "man" things, or at least some of the "women" things. He works, I understand that, but he can help around the house too, and when I was working he didn't help either. I did the laundry, cooked the meals, take the animals to the vet. I fix the slow drains and clogs, I am the one who can fix the stopped up toilet if it takes more than a plunger to fix. I plant the trees, I edge the lawn, trim the bushes, and sometime I wish he would bother to learn to do these things. I understand he doesn't know how, but since it isn't any interest to him, he doesn't care to, and it doesn't matter if our yard looks like a damn jungle to him.

This is when I wish I wasn't a damn feminist. The "you can do it all" notion gets on my nerves. Why can't we both do it all? Why is it just me?