Fathers are just as capable as mothers at rearing a child. As a stay-at-home father, this seems like a statement of the obvious to me. Rhetorically, it is something we are hearing more and more. 
Yet, culturally, deep prejudice persists against the idea of men as capable, responsible parents. Both in Hollywood movies and in everyday life, casual sexism directed at fathers is a constant.
The pop-cultural trope of the hilariously incompetent father appears to be a hard one to shake. Yet all the while, evidence that contradicts this stereotype is rapidly growing.
Michael Lamb, one of the leading researchers into fathers and child-rearing, argues: “babies and fathers become attached in the same way – and at the same time developmentally – that mothers and babies do.” Linda Neilson, professor of education and adolescent psychology at the University of New Brunswick has found: “The well fathered daughter is more likely to have relationships with men that are emotionally intimate and fulfilling,” and they are also less likely to be pressured into sex by their boyfriends later in life.
Studies at the University of British Colombia found that fathers who help with household chores and take an active parenting role are more likely to raise daughters who aspire to less ‘traditional’ careers. Research has also found that pre-school children with a father as stay-at-home tend to develop better vocabularies.
Yet, despite the evidence, and despite increasing media attention on the issue, men rarely become the primary carer. With some notable exceptions, such as Norway, most Western countries see very low rates of fathers taking a turn as the stay-at-home parent in the years after a child is born. In Australia, for example, only around five per cent of fathers take this step.
There are numerous reasons for this, poor public policy being the main one. Provisions for paternity leave are sparse and extremely limited in most countries. But an enduring obstacle is cultural in its origins. Hollywood, for example, seems fascinated by movies about how terrible men are at taking care of children – Mr Mom (1983); Three Men and a Baby (1987), Three Men and a Little Lady (1990); Big Daddy (1999); Daddy Day Care (2003); The Pacifier (2005); Daddy Day Camp (2007), to name but a few.
These films (and any number of today’s television commercials) trot out all the regular tropes about the ineptitude of men as carers: smelly diapers are smelly! Let’s give kids mass quantities of sugar and be surprised when then go hyper and throw up! He’s drying the washing in the microwave! The children are drinking bubble mixture and burping bubbles! Food fights! Property destruction! Thank god mum’s home!
Or, to quote Tom Selleck in Three Men and a Baby: “I build fifty storey sky-scrapers – I can build a diaper!“ (Diaper immediately falls apart).
Since becoming a stay-at-home father, I’ve been suprised the clichés thrown out by Three Men and a Baby nearly 30 years ago still have currency today.
I have been subjected, fairly regularly, to the expectation that I am an incompetent parent. Whether it is a snide remark, the condescending explanation of some basic facet of parenting (after being primary carer for my two-and-a-half year old for the past 18 months, I do know how to change a nappy and what teething is), or the ubiquitous eye-rolling from mothers coupled with the epithet: “men.”
I naively thought that mothers, in particular, would either be saying to me ‘right on’ for choosing to be the stay-at-home, or ‘so you bloody should.’ Either would be fine. But active condescension and discouragement, that I found plain weird.
It’s sexism, but in the end, it’s a kind of sexism that – other than pissing me off – has no impact on me personally. It doesn’t change the way I parent, nor do I imagine that the mindless stereotyping has any basis in reality.
What it does do, sadly, is blowback on women. It perpetuates a situation where men are expected to work, and women are expected to be the primary carers. It perpetuates a situation where women have to sacrifice their careers, for a time, if they want to have a family, but men do not. It adds incrementally to a world of structural sexism where women remain underrepresented in political office and at the apex of business.
Criticising me, and dads like me, is just dumb. It’s sad, as well.
It’s sad because pretty much everything about being a stay-at-home father is awesome. Hanging out with my son, playing with him, teaching him, cooking his lunch, singing made-up songs together, Lego, exploring the world with someone who’s never seen it before, fart jokes, it’s honestly a joy.
Sure – poop incidents are a pungent unpleasantness, tantrums disagreeable, and a sick child a particular brand of torture all parents must eventually face – but there isn’t a day that goes by that I regret taking a break from work.
Being a parent isn’t complex. It’s not some ineffable mystery sunk down deep in the genes of 
females. All it takes is eternal vigilance, unfiltered love, healthy paranoia and limitless patience.
Vigilance for exposed power points, unlocked cupboards, large neighbourhood dogs, sharp corners, sets of stairs, scissors, and unguarded glasses of red wine. Paranoia that comes from knowing, just knowing, that two minutes of silence from your child in the other room does not mean they are playing quietly, but very likely pouring a Mango Lassi over your wife’s laptop. Limitless patience, because trying to leave the house takes an hour of preparation, eating lunch now involves lengthy conversations between Mr Egg and Mr Tofu about bulldozers, and the bedtime routine takes forty-five minutes and six versions – sung by six different stuffed toys – of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.
And unfiltered love, because it’s great for the child’s psychological health, and pretty damn good for yours, as well.
Sure, when my two-and-a-half year-old says: “These stairs are bloody big”, or “I can’t open the bugger”, or “Clive Palmer’s a despot!” I am instantly reminded that they are always watching you, always listening. Like it or not, you’re a role model, and you have to damn well act like one, day in and day out.
So yeah, being a parent is bloody hard. But complicated? No. Feed them when they’re hungry, put them to bed when they’re tired, play with them when they ask, and hug them when they’re scared or upset. Not complicated. Something that even, you know, a man can do.
Now, I’m in a particularly privileged position where my wife is able to financially support our family. I get that. I get that we live in a world now where economic imperatives drive apart the family unit. But if you’re a dad and you can find that window – in the years after your child is born – to take time away from your job and spend it on the far more important work of your toddler’s upbringing, then damn well do it.
Do it because raising a child isn’t like building a fifty story skyscraper. It’s harder. But it’s also way more satisfying. 