Dear husband,

Now that another school year began, I thought of writing you this letter to ensure that our days start the best way possible, and we can manage to remain married until the next Summer vacations.

I know you’re inexperienced in this parenting thing. After all, we “only” have two kids, but let me tell you one thing: mornings don’t have to be complicated. Seriously. And the difference between starting the day shouting and stressing out or smiling lies in 6 simple steps that you must memorize instead of asking me hundreds of times how can you help. Deal? So, here it goes.  
 


Step 1: Wake them up 
  
On most days, they wake up by themselves. And early. I don’t even remember the last time I heard the alarm clock because invariably one of them wakes up before it goes off. But in case they’re still sleeping by the time they were supposed to be having breakfast, the routine is basic: open the shades, let the light come in through the window, speak in a low tone and give them 5 minutes of cuddling. More than 5 minutes is pushing your luck, so you'd better move on to the next step. Seriously. Don’t let them manipulate you with their angel faces, begging to stay in bed a little longer. Otherwise, I’ll need to intervene and become Mumzilla.

Step 2: Dress them up 

I choose the clothes, the shoes, the princess hair clips. All you have the do is prevent them putting the underwear inside out or the left shoe on the right foot since from a certain age (more or less around 2) they like to do everything by themselves and only need some guidance.

Step 3: Feed them 
 
They already speak and now exactly what they want. All you have to do is ask them what they want to have for breakfast! Simple, right? In case they’re undecided, you can provide some suggestions, for example, “Juice and toast?”, “Yoghurt and cereal?”. I’m aware that, in general, Mummy is the one who must make breakfast, because she’s the one who knows the right amount of Cheerios, the ideal portion of butter, the correct way to remove the bread edges, etc.  But if you can’t help in this task, there are other ways to help. For example, embracing the next steps.

Step 4: Hygiene them 

Before leaving home, it’s mandatory to pee, wash the face, hands and teeth. It’s not an exclusive of kids. It’s standard practice for the human race.

Step 5: Check school bag and others 

All you have to do is open the zipper, look inside and see if all the books, hats, and favourite toys are inside. It’s an important step to avoid dramas and needing to return home three times when we’re already late. The “others” is all about making sure (yes, with me) if any of them is on medication, needs to put drops in the nose or if there is something different that needs to go to school on that day.

Step 6: Kick them out 
This is an easy step: they just need to dress the coats and be thrown in the elevator, keeping in mind that one of us has to be there with them. Preferably dressed and with our shoes on. It might sound obvious, but sometimes you miss the obvious.


That’s it! Our hygiene, nutrition, and clothing are all secondary. It’s something we need to learn to do by turns and in record time.
 
Yes, I know it’s tough. Yes, I also remember (although with increasing difficulty) how our mornings used to be half a decade ago. You’re not the only one who misses it. Times when I did my morning jogging, showered without having a tiny human opening the shower curtain to ask crucial questions such as “is it Tuesday, Mommy?”, and had the luxury of eating breakfast on the couch while watching the news!

Those times are gone. Not forever. In some years they’ll know how to do everything on their own and will love sleeping to the point when a loud alarm clock will be needed to get out of bed. Until then, please stop asking me every single day what needs to be done, as if every morning was different. It’s not. The routine is always the same. You just need to be aware of these 6 simple steps and understand in which one we are when you finish your morning shower.
From your wife, who loves you very much, although it may not look like before noon.

(sign and leave in noticeable location)

This is one of the commandments of maternity. You can deny it all you like, you can say this won't happen to you. But it’s a fact of life, and the high divorce rate in couples with small children only goes to prove it.

I’ve already mentioned in other chapters how young mums feel tired, irritated and frustrated, and guilty. Tired because of so many nights without sleep and the extra work that comes with having a baby. Irritated because the kids so often push our patience to the limit. Frustrated because we want to do so many things – we want to be perfect mothers, wives and employees, but inevitably something has to give. Guilty because we often feel like running away or going back to the times when we didn’t have to worry about anyone except ourselves.

And as most mothers are actually quite well-balanced individuals, they don't offload these burdens at work (although we often feel like ripping certain co-workers’ heads off, it’s true), or on the children (who may often be the cause of all the irritation with their tantrums and fixations, but they didn’t ask to be born after all), or our friends (we don't often see them these days anyway). Who’s left, then, to soak up all that negative static that we accumulate over the course of the day/week? Our poor husbands.

I can almost hear the applause of all those men who’ve felt so wronged all these years. ‘Finally someone understands us,’ some men will say. ‘I always knew that but I never told anyone.’ ‘Well well. It wasn’t just me, then.’. But wait a minute, gentlemen. You aren't getting away with this so easily.

On behalf of all women, even the ones who say it isn't true, I admit we will inevitably treat our husbands badly at some point in our lives (or at some point in the day, to be honest). You, fathers, are our punch bags. You are the ones who are at our side on the sofa at the exact moment we need to let some fury vent. Yes, it’s wrong for us to take out all our rage on you, and we regret it often enough, and realize we’ve been bitches. Although we’ll rarely admit that to you. But there are so many times when you lot deserve every extra decibel, every glass smashed against the wall, every ‘You can’t do anything right.’

The fact is, no matter how ‘participative’ they may be, men can’t think beyond their own belly buttons. They just don’t think of the thousand and one things that need to be done in relation to the kids and the house, and that’s what pisses us off. You want some examples? I’ll give you some examples:

Going on holiday
Mum’s trying to pack her own bags and the kids’ bags too, with a three-page list in her hand to make sure she doesn’t forget anything, what with medicines, favourite toys, sunhats, towels, cardigans, chargers for this and that, toothbrushes, snacks for the journey, baby change bag, etc. etc. etc. Dad’s got his own bag to pack. He goes to the computer to look up the route or check the temperature at our destination or some other less important thing. Halfway through her three-page list, mum still finds time to pick out what she’ll wear for the journey, break up a fight over possession of the remote control and take the crusts off the little one’s toast, because ‘Daddy didn’t’ – and Daddy knows (or bloody well ought to!) she’s funny about her toast and won’t eat it any other way. Obviously it’s a question of minutes before mum comes out with ‘Do you mind leaving the ****ing computer for a minute and helping me out here?’ Dad’s taken aback. ‘You could have told me you needed help.’ Really? Did I really need to tell you?

The end of the day
Dad gets home. The kids are playing quietly in the living room, fresh from their bath. Mum’s making dinner. Dad comes in, helps set the table and sits down on the sofa. Two minutes later, in comes mum, shouting. ‘Look, why don’t you take your backside off the sofa and get the washing in off the line? You could at least put your own clothes away, they’re folded on top of the bed. Did you buy milk? Didn’t you? Don’t tell me you didn't notice we finished the last packet this morning? Why is it me who has to think of everything? Christ, you’d think you didn’t live here!’ At this point the reader may be thinking, ‘Isn't Mum overdoing it a little here? The poor guy’s just got home, he’s only taken a minute to relax on the sofa after a hard day’s work...’ Perhaps, reader. Perhaps. But what you don't know is that while Dad comes home in the same clothes he left in, Mum has changed three times that day already: the first time after a disastrous incident with a small child and a shower head, the second after the younger one threw up his milk, and the third after one of them flipped a plate of soup in the air. She’s also been mopping up a waterlogged bathroom, and making a new batch of rice after burning it the first time. If, instead of flopping out on the sofa, the gentleman of the house had gone straight to his wife and asked ‘ What can I do to help you?’, he’d have earned a smile – and some domestic harmony.

Sunday outings
Dad gets up quite calmly, on mum’s third attempt to awaken him, and notices his ‘Good morning, sleep well?’ goes unanswered. She’s woken up in a bad mood, he thinks. Oh no, my friend. She didn’t wake up in a bad mood. The reason she’s in a bad mood is she didn’t get much sleep, what with getting up to change one of the kids’ beds and shush the other who’s had a nightmare, followed by an early awakening with ‘Mummy I’m not sleepy and I’m hungry but it has to be you who makes breakfast because Daddy doesn't know how I like my cereal.’ Then she’s hung out the clothes she washed during the night to make sure they’re dry enough for pressing in the evening. And while His Lordship loafs on the sofa watching sports programmes, she’s picking out clothes for everyone and making sure there’s a change of clothes in the baby bag because we’ll be gone all day and while I’m at it I better pack biscuits, and a sunhat, and the football in case we go to the park, and a jar of fruit pudding in case we’re late getting lunch.

Women do mistreat their husbands. Once they’re mothers. It’s unquestionably true. They’re not as gentle, not as available for love, less interested in their husband’s day at work, less alert to his needs. Yes, we should examine our conscience from time to time, and say sorry, and be more tolerant and understand that men don't have the same natural way with kids that we have. For the kids, there’s nobody quite like mum. But guys, you could grow up a little and stop acting the victim. Open your eyes and enjoy the view beyond your belly button. And if you really are incapable of thinking about the duties your children and your home impose on you, even the most basic stuff like checking to see their pyjama bottoms haven’t slipped off during the night or making the bed every day, then ask. And above all, before you flop down on the sofa with the iThing, offer to help. It’s an offer that will be greatly appreciated, and you’ll find you’ll be mistreated less.

There's a universal truth that women should learn as soon as they can: men suck at choosing the right gift for a special occasion. Of course, there are exceptions, but as always, those exceptions only prove the point.

They don't mean to disappoint us, and it's also not a matter of budget. It’s just because they are terrified of everything related to women's territories, and they deeply believe that if we say we need a new coffee machine, we'll be happy to get one for Christmas. Poor devils... Do you have any idea what it means for a woman to receive a home appliance as a gift? Years and years of fighting for equal rights going down the drain by one single daily-use object.

I know my husband will not be happy after reading this, but I have to share two episodes that clearly show how the best of the intentions can end up ruining a special moment.

The first one happened when we were still dating. I've been whining about how out of shape I was, and how little time I had to exercise for a while, so my beloved boyfriend showed up with four Christmas gifts for me. I was so thrilled. Four gifts, all for me? How thoughtful... But then I opened the first one: an exercise game for PlayStation. Ok. It might be fun. Second gift: a Yoga mattress. Humpf.... Third gift: weights. By that time, I couldn't disguise my disappointment, but there was hope. The fourth gift had a book shape. You can't go wrong with a book, can you? No, unless it's a book with tips for slimming! I won't get into details about how it went from there, but it was something between a nervous meltdown and hysteria.

The second episode happened on my 30th birthday. A date to remember, especially for someone like me, who takes birthdays very seriously. In that particular year, I was in love with a Marc Jacobs handbag, and I wasn't hiding it. My husband was committed to making my day super special, and he was doing quite well. First he gave me a bicycle, the one I still ride every day. I was happier than a child. Then, during a dinner party with all my friends and family, he gave me a beautiful Birthday cake, with a shoe on the top, and a lovely dress. I couldn't be happier and looking back, I wish the day ended there, at that magical moment. But it didn't. There was yet another gift, which came in a big card box. The first thought that crossed my mind was that inside that huge box was my desired Marc Jacobs handbag. However, as I took the Styrofoam out of the way, I found a foot massager. Are you serious? Who gives his thirty-year-old wife a foot massager, which cost the same as two Marc Jacobs handbags??? But baby, you love foot massages, he said. Really? A foot massager? Forget it. I'll store it somewhere far away and keep on dreaming with my unachievable handbag...

So, there it is. No matter how good the intentions, choosing the right gift for a woman can end up in an epic disaster. That's why all men reading this article should remember these five little precious tips:

1) Never, ever, give her a home appliance, not even a hair curler. Ever!

2) Never, ever, give her sports equipment, unless you want her to think that you think she's fat. And that's not good for you.

3) Stay alert to every hint she gives. Every woman gives precious and subtle hints about what they want for a special occasion.

4) If you still can't figure out what she wants, ask for help. Ask your daughters, in-laws or her best friend. These women know better than the helpful shop assistant, whose only interest is selling you something.

5) Lastly, don't try to be creative. Most women love surprises but controlled ones. Like, oh darling what a surprise! I was wondering if you would give me my favorite perfume or that book I was telling about for months. Unless it's a trip to New York. In that case, you can surprise her. (I must say that after those two episodes, my husband redeemed himself by taking me on a wonderful trip to NY)

As for the ladies:

1) Go straight to the point. Unless is sex, men rarely get the hints.

2) Tell your kids, sisters, best-friend want you really want. It's likely your husbands will ask them for help, especially if they read this article.

3) Write Santa a letter. But make sure you are very precise about the model, size, color and store location. A bag is not just a bag. There's the texture, and the shape and a whole world men will never understand.

Happy holidays and happy shopping!