when the overprotective mother is your husband

every family needs one, and it ain’t me.

my sweet, amazing husband has always worried about me. ever since we started dating he’s always pictured the worst case scenario, checking in on me like an anxious mother waiting for her kid to come home at night. now that we have a child, in some ways that protective quality has increased and in other ways it’s dispersed between me and our child.

my friends and i poke fun at dan for worrying about us every time we go out, especially that one night we went out dancing during a snow storm. when i’m traveling, dan doesn’t sleep until i’m at my destination safe and sound, whereas i trust that he’ll get there. but then there’s the way that he’s made me a safer driver, really i’d prefer to race through the city streets like i’m in a video game.

i may not have the same visions of danger for our son that dan does, but i am perfectly aware of when i need to step in and protect our kid.

i can count on one hand the number of times i’ve felt truly overprotective and anxious about my kid and those are: driving ten blocks home from the hospital, tears streaming down my face, convinced that every car, courier, and pedestrian was trying to kill my newborn. that time i slipped on my pant leg and dropped my infant down the stairs. last week when my son was covered in a benign-to-him rash, but my entire childhood as a highly-allergic kid flashed before my eyes.

beyond these rare occasions, i depend on my husband to do the worrying. dan comes from a long line of worriers and i love them all dearly, but i definitely lean heavily into the carefree camp to balance us out.

while dan and i naturally agree on about ninety percent of our parenting, the other ten requires a lot of work. when it comes to the safety and wellbeing of our child, i think it’s worth arguing over the specifics.

to be honest i don’t know where i, an anxious gal, gets away with being a very low-key mom, but the best way i can think to make sense of it is my background. i am an eldest daughter of three, a long-time babysitter, and a former full-time nanny. i was also a kid who grew up in doctors’ offices and had a few trips to the ER every year thanks to my asthma and allergies. i know when to panic and, thankfully for my kid’s health, it’s rare that i do.

my husband, on the other hand, grew up in a household where worrying is the baseline. better to worry and get ahead of it than be caught off guard. when we leave a family gathering the sign-off is not just “i love you.” but, “i love you, be careful. drive safe. let us know when you’re home.” home could be fifteen minutes down the road.

i used to find it so strange, but now i know that it’s just a sign of love. today i find myself saying “be careful!” as we hug goodnight after dinner.

growing up in my family we just assumed that everyone was okay, better not to spend extra energy worrying. which is hilarious, because i come from a highly anxious family, but our worries are far more emotional than physical.

perhaps my knowledge of working with kids, combined with how i was raised, and how i counteract my husband’s hand-wringing has made me a very chill mom.

as a parent, dan considers my type A personality to be a very strong B.

but the truth is that i get to be a B around him. i trust him to worry about the things that i don’t and vice versa. for example, dan stays up to date on all of the latest safety precautions for children and we discuss the research together.

water safety is the place where i defer to his research completely. sure, i roll my eyes at my toddler in a life vest in the ocean and i quite literally muscle through physically supporting my toddler without floaties in the pool so he doesn’t get dependent on them. but we’re doing what we’ve determined is best for our kid.

and then i get to add in the other stuff. when my son jumps off the side of the pool i make him say “ready” and then i say “ready” before leaping into the water with me ready to support him. we work on taking deep breaths before swimming under water and he knows that he can’t get into any body of water without an adult.

at the beach he knows to wave to the lifeguard before he gets into the ocean and he only swims directly in front of their stand. if he gets knocked over by a wave i don’t immediately rush to grab him, instead i say “pop up! pop up!” i teach him how to navigate the water without assuming that i’ll be there to scoop him up.

my style is a little less hands-on and more focused on teaching my son the practical skills that he can implement on his own. dan is most concerned with keeping our child from drowning at all costs. all important things, but the contrast in our styles does make family pool parties incredibly stressful.

when we are able to anticipate a clash in opinion we try to defer to the more concerned parent before we enter into a situation. we talk through our game plan, establish who is the default parent and then try to stick to it.

in my experience, the most dangerous thing for a kid’s safety is two parents in disagreement. parenting over each other isn’t helpful either. if it was an emergency, those seconds spent arguing can make all the difference.

we’re not graceful at navigating this in real time, but we do our best.

when our son started solids everything made dan nervous. we lived with the solid starts app on our phones to referee our disagreements. eventually i just asked dan if he would be in charge of feeding when we were out to dinner with our baby, which was a couple of times a week.

and then there’s sleep safety.

our son has always slept in his own bed and in his own room. contact naps were dutifully watched over by an awake parent in the room. this last one stung. there are entire photo albums of my parents napping in a rocking chair with my newborn self sleeping on their chest. i wanted those baby naps so so badly, but i could see how deeply it worried dan and i wasn’t going to put him through that. we agreed to follow what feels to me like an overly cautious version of sleep safety and never doze off with our baby.

in my corner of substack it feels a little terrifying to talk about sleeping. it seems as if every mom co-sleeps with her child and sleep-training is a sin, but that’s what worked for us. i still get plenty of cuddle time with my child and i promise the attachment we share is strong.

these days we enjoy the occasional family nap and if our son wakes up early in the morning, we welcome him into our bed. sleeping with our child in a way that feels good and safe for all of us has become a deeply relaxing and sweet time that we share together, and that just wasn’t our reality early on.

a couple of weeks ago i became the overprotective mother in a way that felt totally foreign to me.

dan and i were in the city to take care of some errands and our son was safely with his grandparents in rhode island. we were gone for less than forty eight hours and when we got back to our kid i noticed discoloration on my son’s face. i asked the rest of the family if they saw anything and they said that he’d had a rash since the morning, dan hadn’t thought to tell me because it looked pretty mild.

he also didn’t grow up with allergies.

upon further investigation, my son’s body was covered in rashes. his face took on a pizza-like quality and i began spiraling. i know how fast allergic reactions can escalate and i felt totally out of control that i hadn’t known that my kid was sick. i would have rushed home instead of dilly-dallying in the city.

it was four o’clock in rhode island and i needed to get him to urgent care before they closed. i wanted to make sure that he was okay, that it wasn’t getting worse, and that he wasn’t going to pass anything along to his friends and classmates.

in case it was an allergic reaction, i threw him in the shower to rinse off any potential irritants. of course the heat from the shower only exacerbated the rash, and i sent our pediatrician in brooklyn a series of photos with increasing concern. i couldn’t find our thermometer, we need to get another one. i quickly dressed my son in loose-fitting clothes, threw a bunch of snacks in my bag and took off for the doctors.

urgent care was inconclusive and unconcerned. no fever, no itching, seemingly no worry to anyone but me. they suggested an antihistamine and to keep an eye on it. i felt a little bit better after giving my son the medicine that has saved me throughout my life.

but in the morning his rash was still visible. likely better than the day before, but i couldn’t tell. it didn’t matter, i needed him with me. i texted my friend to cancel our pilates date and messaged his summer camp to let him know he wouldn’t be coming in. and then i called my sister and cried.

i felt crazy. was i being overprotective? was i overreacting about “some little rash”? what was happening to me? she reassured me that i was not overreacting and that it was okay to keep my kid home if i needed to keep an eye on him.

what she didn’t say was “babe, it’s summer camp, it’s not a big deal if he misses a day.” bless her. what i felt in my bones was that nobody could convince me my baby was safe except me.

my brother and i were highly allergic kids and i saw how fast a little rash can escalate to a closed throat and i was not going to leave my baby’s side until i was certain that was off the table. the truth is that i probably needed the comfort of him with me more than he needed mine.

it’s also true that a day out of the sun and heat was a good break for his skin1. it’s true that many parents would be grateful that i did not bring a rash-covered child into school. it’s true that i don’t need to explain myself to anyone, even me.

that’s the thing about motherhood, my gut knows more than my brain.

we both needed the day off.

that night i slept with him in his big boy bed, his long body curled up like a shrimp inside mine. head burrowed into my chest, shins pressed against my belly, soft breaths rising and falling with mine. my whole body encircled his and i couldn’t stop picturing his ultrasound pictures inside of me. here was my little boy mimicking the same shape he always had, just beyond my belly this time.

it’s rare that i’m the worried parent and dan is not, but the reason i’ve always deferred to him is because i know how hard this feeling is. there is no chance i’d put him through this sort of agony just because i’d rather not click-click-click and zip our kid into a life vest every time we dip into the ocean. we each play an important role in protecting our child and each other.

dan does not question how i raise our child, he knows i’m the expert on all things childcare and i am the default decision-maker for most things, but he’s the one who keeps us safe. if i didn’t have a partner like dan i would be the one doing the research that he is, but i get to relax knowing that he’s got us.

i think that’s one of the reasons our kid’s rash freaked me out so much, normally dan would be the one to rush to the internet for answers. i count on him to be online, but that’s just not my style, i need to consult with real-life humans. i picked up the phone to facetime my mom so she could see my baby’s rash, a quick gut-check from a mom who knows these symptoms. we didn’t need anything more than life experience to know that urgent care was the answer.

while dan might be the resident overprotective mom in our partnership, i’m stepping up as the health expert. i’m grateful that dan’s papa bear burden has never been mine to hold, but now i feel confident to say that sick stuff is all me.

divide and conquer <3

my top three recommended reads of the week featuring mothers getting curious about what it looks like to challenge the status quo.

this section of mother curious doesn’t often have a theme, but it turns out we all wanted to talk about DADS this week. the ways that they support moms through anticipating needs, researching safety, inspiring moms to take time off, and a letter to partners who could benefit from taking on a bit more of the mental load at home. we love our partners!

here’s why:

Rachel Jain getting curious about what it looks like to go through the first trimester when dad takes on all of the “mom” tasks for your firstborn. i often felt like maybe i was dramatic about how hard being pregnant was for me, but to hear Rachel’s exhaustion reminds me that i was definitely not dramatic. it really is that exhausting. i loved hearing about how Krish stepped into the position of managing all childcare and household tasks without Rachel asking—how it should be!

Leah Hamilton of Mama’s Boy getting curious about taking time off—specifically investing in hobbies that are just as time-consuming as a round of golf—eight hour hobbies, here we come!! i was fist-pumping through this whole post. Leah is a friend of mine who always inspires me with how well she knows herself. she’s always known that she is a mom who wants to spend as much time as possible with her son and i’ve watched her enjoy that thoroughly. in this article she begins to get curious about what it would feel like to simply take more time for herself (without asking for permission!), explore her interests, and develop some hobbies. go girl, go girl, go!!

Ash Brooks Garrett of You Wanted This getting curious about what it might look like to ask your friend’s husband to step the f*ck up and share the mental load of the house and childcare like a partner, not a helper. Ash writes this to fathers, but i think it applies to all partners who could stop asking “what can i do?” and start figuring it out on their own. you don’t need to mother your partner :)

BONUS:

Britt Simons getting curious about maternal mental health while juggling several full time jobs. my friend Britt and her husband Luke just opened up an incredible restaurant together in rhode island and it is so stunning and delicious!! the attention to detail is insane, so many artists brought the Kingfish vision to life. it is no secret how demanding the restaurant industry is and i love how open Britt is in discussing what it actually looks like to be a mom, a restaurant owner, and a full time employee. there are no answers here, no solutions, just a curiosity around how moms work, and an invitation to check in on your friends who are “holding it all together.” I AM SO DAMN PROUD OF YOU AND LUCKY TO KNOW YOU. go check out kingfish and follow their story!

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no AI here

i’ve turned off the ability for substack to feed my words to AI to…test for AI because i don’t feel super comfy with the implications of a bot learning my work at this time. i do not believe that the bots have any right to my hard-earned writing. i hope you can trust that this work is one hundred percent human, typos and all.

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