Two years ago, my husband and I made a big change—he became the default parent. I use that term deliberately. Default as in automatic selection. Life, careers, and circumstances had shaped our roles: as a military family, his deployments left me as the default parent. But we flipped the script when a career shake-up left him unexpectedly at home. And now, years into this “Freaky Friday” experiment, we’ve learned a lot—about ourselves, each other, and the unrelenting work of raising a family. If we’re lucky, it’s equal parts magic and madness.
It Hurts: Why Couldn’t You Just Believe Me?
For years, I tried to explain the invisible load—the mental checklist that never ends, the exhaustion of being on call 24/7, the way even simple questions (What’s for dinner? Where are my pants?) could feel unbearable.
But the truth? He didn’t fully get it. Not in a way that changed his behavior or lightened my load. And that hurt, not because he didn’t care, but because no amount of explaining could replace the experience of living it.
Now, he understands. He feels the mental weight of meal planning, permission slips, and dentist appointments. He knows what it’s like to wake up thinking not just about work but also grocery runs, school drop-offs, and bedtime routines.
It Heals: A Newfound Empathy
Before we switched roles, I thought I understood his world—long Zoom calls, relentless decision-making, the exhaustion that follows you home.
But I didn’t either.
Now that I carry the work outside of the home while he manages the household front, I see it differently. I walk upstairs after a long day of meetings and am hit with the chaos of home—loud kids, a messy kitchen, and a never-ending to-do list. And suddenly, I get it—that feeling of having nothing left to give.
I wish I could say we always bite our tongues, but that would be a lie. We’ve learned to stop saying, “See? This is what I was trying to tell you.” Instead, we joke, “I’m you! You’re me!” Because the point isn’t to be right—it’s that now, finally, we both understand.
This shift has softened us. When he zones out after dinner, I take it less personally. He encourages me to transition from work mode to mom mode. This newfound empathy has made our partnership stronger.
It Helps: A Mixed Bag, But Worth It
Make no mistake—this role reversal hasn’t been a magical fix. We still have moments of resentment, criticism, and frustration over how we each handle our roles.
But overall, it has helped. It’s strengthened our relationship because we respect each other’s work. It’s benefited our kids because they see both parents modeling flexibility and teamwork. It’s improved our family dynamic because we’re making choices based on what works now, not just what’s expected.
It hasn’t been easy. It hasn’t been perfect. But it’s been valuable. And while deployments and layoffs weren’t our choice, I’m grateful we’ve each had a turn at being the default parent.
It’s Hard: Parenting Is the Hardest Job, No Matter the Circumstances
Here’s the truth: Even with a supportive partner, even when kids sleep through the night, even when life is objectively good, parenting is still the hardest job.
There’s no “default” parent who has it easy. Whether you’re working full-time, coming home exhausted, or spending your days deep in child-rearing, the work is relentless. The needs are constant. The joy is immense, and so is the weight of it all.
Two years of walking in each other’s shoes have reinforced this: Parenting is a team sport. The best thing we can do—for each other and our family—is keep showing up with grace, patience, and the understanding that we’re in this together.
This journey has been revealing, challenging, and ultimately transformative. We’ve learned to listen better, appreciate more, and extend grace when days feel long. We may not have all the answers, but we do know this: walking a mile in each other’s shoes doesn’t just build empathy—it builds a stronger, more connected family. And for that, I’m grateful.
