My Husband Constantly Asks for a 'Break' from Parenting — I Taught Him the Perfect Lesson

When Sage's husband, Derek, begins treating fatherhood like a part-time gig, she decides to flip the script. She comes up with a plan to teach him a lesson that would change the way he looks at his responsibilities.

Derek's been hesitant to look after the kids lately, and it's been driving me up the wall. I love my husband, but his sudden aversion to daddy duties has left me feeling frustrated and overwhelmed.

Don't get me wrong, Derek and I have always had a loving relationship. He's been a good husband for the most part, but things have taken an unexpected turn recently.

When our boys were little babies, Derek was the poster child for hands-on dads. He'd change diapers like a pro and bottle-feed our little ones, giving me much-needed time to rest and heal after giving birth.

I used to beam with pride, bragging to my friends about my superhero husband.

But now it feels like I'm living with his evil twin.

I thought we'd keep up our teamwork as the kids grew older, but Derek had other plans. He went from being the best father to constantly asking for "breaks."

I didn't think much about it when it happened for the first time. We all need a breather sometimes, right?

"Babe, I've had a rough week at work," he said one Friday evening. "Do you mind if I go play pool with the guys? I just need to recharge a bit."

At that time, our two-year-old was teething, and the 11-month-old was in a clingy phase, but I figured a happy husband meant a happy home.

So, I smiled and said, "Sure, go ahead. We'll be fine here."

When he came back that night, he was like a new man. He hugged me tight and said, "Thanks for being so understanding, Sage. You're the best."

I thought, Okay. We're still a team.

I was wrong.

I realized that when Derek's breaks became too regular. It felt like he had started avoiding his responsibilities, leaving me to figure out how to look after the kids all by myself.

I can't explain how difficult it is to look after an infant and a toddler together.

However, Derek thought he could keep me happy with his compliments. His favorite line was, "You're just so much better with them, babe."

At first, those words felt nice, but they quickly started to feel like sugar-coated bribes.

Besides, whenever I tried to ask for a break for myself, he always had a reason to reject my request. He'd say things like, "Just this once, can you take care of them? I’ll make it up to you."

He never did.

His idea of a break was apparently a weekly event, while mine... well, I couldn't even remember the last time I had one.

Soon, our text conversations started to look like this:

"Babe, I'm gonna head out with the guys for a few hours," Derek would write. "They're going to the new brewery. Just need to clear my head."

"Seriously? I wanted to wash my hair and take a nap…" I'd reply.

"You're so good with the kids, they're way easier with you. I'll be back by 7!"

"Derek, I haven't had 5 minutes to myself all week."

"Can you just handle them for today? I'll make it up to you, promise!"

I knew he'd never make it up to me. He'd never look after the kids.

I tried talking to him about it. I really did.

One night, after putting the kids to bed, I sat on the couch and poured my heart out.

"Derek, I'm exhausted," I said, fighting back tears. "I feel like I'm doing everything on my own. We used to be a team, remember?"

His response? "They're just at a tough age right now. I'll be more hands-on once they get a little older."

I couldn't believe my ears.

As if I wasn't dealing with the same exact challenges? For him, it was a temporary inconvenience that would magically disappear.

But for me, it was my everyday reality.

Eventually, I hit my breaking point on one Saturday. It happened after a particularly grueling day of tantrums and endless diaper changes while Derek was out "clearing his head."

I was physically drained, but it was the emotional exhaustion that really got to me. How could he not see that this was his life too? How could he just check out whenever things got hard?

That's when I realized I needed to do something drastic to make him understand he couldn't just leave me to deal with all the hard stuff while he had the time of his life with his friends. So, it was time to come up with a plan.

The next weekend, Derek asked again, "Can you take the kids for the day? I’m gonna hit the golf course with Mike and the guys."

I smiled and said, "Sure, no problem. But next weekend, it's my turn."

He looked surprised but nodded in agreement. I don't think he realized what he was in for.

When that Saturday rolled around, I packed my bags and left for a two-day stay at a cozy Airbnb in the countryside. I was planning to relax in peace without the kids.

"I'll be back after two days," I told Derek before leaving.

He looked at me with eyes wide open.

"Two days? But... I thought you meant for a few hours!"

"You get your breaks all the time. Now it's my turn. I'll see you on Monday!"

I could see the panic setting in on Derek's face as I drove away. But I didn't let it affect me.

For the next two days, I indulged in spa treatments, slept in, read a book, and didn't once check my phone. It was absolute bliss. I recharged in ways I hadn't in months. But the real magic was happening back at home.

Derek had no idea what it was like to handle the kids alone for two straight days.

From what I heard later, the first day went "okay-ish." He managed breakfast, took them to the park, and even got them to nap.

By the second day, reality hit hard. The kids were cranky, there were messes everywhere, and he hadn't had a moment to himself.

As a result, my phone was flooded with texts and missed calls.

"When are you coming home?"

"The kids won't stop crying. What do I do?"

"How do you do this every day?"

"I'm sorry. I get it now. Please come home."

I ignored them all. He needed to experience this fully.

When I finally walked through the door after my glorious 48-hour break, the house looked like a tornado had hit it.

I was horrified to see food splashes on the wall and piles of clothes in every corner. The kitchen? Don't even ask how dirty it was!

Derek was so relieved to see me.

"How do you do this every day?" he asked.

I smiled as I put my bag on the kitchen countertop.

"Now you get it, don't you?"

Then, I handed him a small photo album I'd been working on.

It had pictures of important moments he had missed while he was busy having fun with his friends. I had captured every moment including my children's first attempts at walking, their messy first words, and spontaneous hugs and kisses.

I had also written a caption under each picture like, "You weren't there for this one," "Missed this afternoon," and "The day Dad had was golfing with the guys."

Derek looked at the album in silence. He didn't say a word and just stared at the photos in shock.

"This isn't just hard for you," I said, breaking the silence. "It's hard for all of us. But if you keep checking out whenever things get tough, you're going to miss out on more than just a few stressful afternoons."

"I… I…" he stammered.

"The next time you ask for a 'break,' just remember, the kids will start to depend more on me, not because I'm better at looking after them, but because I'm the one who's always here. Always here for them."

I didn't need to say more.

Derek looked at the photos again, and I could see it sinking in. He realized that "getting a break" didn't mean he could disconnect from being a parent.

Things began to change after that weekend. Derek still spent time with his friends, but he had balanced it with real family time.

He took on more responsibility with the kids, and instead of asking for a break, he started asking what he could do to help. He learned that being a dad isn't something you can put on pause until it's convenient.

The kids also noticed it. They became more attached to him because they knew he was there for them.

And me? I felt like I had my partner back. We were a team again, facing the chaos of parenthood together.

Looking back, I'm glad I took that drastic step. Sometimes, a little tough love is exactly what's needed to remind us of what really matters. Do you agree?

If you enjoyed reading this story, here's another one you might like: Sometimes, the life you think you're living is just a carefully crafted illusion. It took one unexpected message during a routine business trip to unravel the secret that would turn my world topsy-turvy.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided "as is," and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.