Cradling the baby in his arms, Diggy bounced our first child and son Lloyd around to comfort and soothe him from any tantrums he may have in the next few minutes. I was warming Lloyd's bottle in some hot water on the other side of the kitchen while Diggy leaned with our son against the table. Lloyd was six months old and was the greatest blessing we had so far.
"Babe.." I called to Diggy from across the kitchen. a"Hm?" "I've been thinking about Lloyd's day care and preschooling, I thought now would be a good time to start, since he is six months now..." I proposed to him. "I was thinking the same thing actually." Really? Cause I've already looked ta a few schools and day care centres.." "Wait.. school? Babe, I thought you could stay at home and look after him" he looked at me confused. "What?" For how long?" I asked, uneased by his suggestion. He shrugged. "Like.. two years?" T-two years?" I stuttered. My eyes widened at this crazy suggestion he had.
"Yeah, two isn't too long and if he needs it, an extra three would be good until he goes to kindergarten" he smiled, but I was not pleased. "So.. how do you expect me to work and earn money for us and the baby if you want me at home 24/7 for five years?" "Pshhh" he waved his free hand at me as he held Lloyd in the other and dismissed my question like the answer was common sense. "Babe, that's my job as the man. I earn, you look after Lloyd ad all the other kids we'll have" he stated. My face dropped "And.. how long till we have another child?" I asked with my hand on my hips bow. Diggy simply shrugged. "God knows" he said plainly.
"I'm not staying at home" I snapped. Imagine how annoyed I am being told that I'm gonna be at home for five years, give up the job I left on maternity leave and bring up God knows how many kids more for the next few years of my life and ave a man buy and provide everythingfor me and my kids... and what am I left with? "You are babe.." he said like I had no choice. "Besides, it's a mom's job to be with the baby and care for it. You can't work, you'll be too busy with its commitments to care for our family." he was literally telling me how my life would be.
"I can work and be a good mom.. look at how I grew up" "Yeah but babe, that's different." "You know what, you think I'm some housewife for you to stay at home all the time? Watch." I nodded and walked out, leaving the baby bottle on the table.
I didn't cook, I refused sex..hell, the boy couldn't even sleep in our bed anymore. I put Lloyd on his side of the bed every night for three nights, forcing him to move to sleep on the couch cause disturbing our son during his sleep meant for hours of late night crying that he couldn't handle. He'd beg me for forgiveness, but telling me how to live my life for the next few years with no career wouldn't just brush off my shoulders with an apology.
I had my mom over to visit a few days later and she knew me and Diggy weren't talking.. she knew. "Babe.." Diggy whined and came up behind me as I sat on the couch, kissing my neck and being affectionate, taking advantage that I was nice in front of my mom. "What?" I half-snapped irritably. "What? Can't I say hi?" "No" I folded my arms and turned my attention away form him. "What's up with y'all? Did you argue or something?" Mom asked observantly. "Yeah.. saying I should stay at home all my life to look after the kids while he works and I don't"
"That's not so bad.. but a relationship doesn't have gender roles. You both work and hustle, both clean, cook and look after Lloyd and whatever kids you have afterwards." my mom explained as she held her grandson in her arms. "You both gotta work together. Don't rush daycare or working.. take time and do what feels natural. Do everything together and equally, I know it's y'all first time being parents, you can do it" she smiled.
We both looked at each other me and Diggy. Looks of "Can we do it?" and "Yeah we can try" exchanged between us as I looked up and behind me at him. He smiled first, putting faith in me that we could work as a team and raise a beautiful family, equally.
