Why I’m Still the Default Parent—Even in France
Or "C'est mieux si c'est la maman."
Motherhood is a theme I keep returning to. Not just because I live it every day, but because—even in 2025—it keeps surprising me.
I live in a fairly traditional Parisian neighborhood where most families are heterosexual couples, and parenting roles still lean old-school. My experience might look different elsewhere. But here, even when both parents work full time, it’s still the moms who get the call.
When we enrolled our first child in la crèche, the directrice told me:
« C’est mieux si c’est la maman qui fait l’adaptation. »
L’adaptation, for those unfamiliar, is the transition period where you gradually ease your baby into daycare—an hour the first day, two the next—until they’re ready for full days. One parent needs to be available.
I had just returned to work and was still finding my feet. After months of newborn care, uninterrupted work time felt indulgent: quiet and blissfully free of squeaky toys.
My husband offered to take a few adaptation days. But when I mentioned it to the directrice, she repeated: « C’est quand même mieux si c’est la maman. » (It’s still better if it’s the mother.)
Looking back, that wasn’t really about me. It’s part of a framework that defaults to the mom, even when both parents are willing. Of course, I could have insisted. But I was a first‑time mom who just wanted things to go smoothly. So I followed suit, even though I knew my husband was just as capable. I didn’t push back, not because I agreed, but because I didn’t want to create tension where there didn’t need to be any. Looking back, that instinct to keep the peace and play along is part of the problem.
Since then, our kids have entered school, and a new wave of “mom duties” has taken over: coordinating playdates, replying to birthday invites, fielding calls when someone has a fever. Most of the time, these still land with the mothers.
It’s not because we’ve failed to split them. From where I stand, it’s the system that still assumes it’s the mom’s job. The WhatsApp groups for school, for example, are usually created by mothers, and often only include mothers. (I’m guilty of this now, too.) I tried adding dads at first, but after a while, the chats drifted back to being moms only. So even though my husband wants to help, he often doesn’t see the messages. (For context, new chats are created for every playdate, birthday, etc.)
At home, we’ve divided the logistics. We alternate drop-offs, split chores, plan birthday parties together. Still, some things just seem to land with me.
Even in a country where nearly 71 % of mothers with children under 14 are in the workforce (OECD Family Database, 2021), there’s a lingering assumption that la maman is the main point of contact.
And when I zoom out, I realize it’s not just our household, it’s everywhere. On average, French women still perform 71% of household tasks and 65% of parenting duties. In the U.S., women spend 4.5 hours a day on unpaid domestic work, versus 2.75 for men.
France extended congé paternité from 11 to 28 days in 2021. Even though 72% of fathers now take some of it, many don’t take the full leave. Whether due to workplace pressure, financial concerns, or cultural norms, it’s still often seen as optional. A bonus, not a given.
One friend’s boss looked at him in disbelief when he announced—in 2024—that he’d be taking the full leave. Another didn’t even consider it: “My boss would never go for that.”
A girlfriend, whose baby just turned one, said something that stuck. Her husband travels often for work, and since he was the first in his friend group to marry, his springs are packed with bachelor parties—three-day affairs in other European cities. When I asked if she was planning getaways of her own, she just laughed: “I could never plan enough trips to even it out.” It made us laugh—and also didn’t.
And it’s not just logistics. It’s the mental load: the endless forms, fevers, and forgotten shoe sizes. The kind of labor you can’t clock—but somehow always carry.
So is the default parent role about biology? Breastfeeding? Instinct? Or is it more about habit, social scripts, and the subtle pressure to hold it all together?
It doesn’t escape me that income can shape the way we divide responsibilities. If one partner earns significantly more, the other may naturally take on more at home. But I believe women should be able to hold jobs just as demanding as their partners’—if they want to. And yet once kids arrive, it seems that the division of labor may hold mothers back. Not for lack of ambition but because there’s simply more to manage.
It’s easy to think: I’ll just focus on parenting for now, especially when your partner’s career is moving faster. In my experience, maternity leave often acts as a pause in professional growth, even if you return sharper and more efficient. Of course, there are exceptions—women who get promoted after maternity leave—but the ones I know worked incredibly hard through their pregnancies and long before.
Here’s what I keep noticing: even when a woman works like she did pre-kids, she’s still expected to carry the same invisible load. And if she can’t? She outsources it—to another woman. We hand them off—to a nanny—before even asking the other parent, who might have been willing to help. (Guilty, again.)
And of course, there’s a whole other reality I haven’t touched on here: the single moms doing all of this alone. No task-splitting. No rotation. Just showing up, every day, for everything. I don’t know how they do it. But I see them, and I’m in awe.
Which makes it all the more striking that in households with two parents, so much still falls to one. When either parent could be the default, why is it still so often the mother?
What if dads organizing the birthday party—or replying to the WhatsApp group—wasn’t seen as “helping,” but just… normal?
We don’t fix what we haven’t named. And this one’s still hiding in plain sight.
Author’s note: This isn’t a critique of today’s dads. Many are far more involved than the generations before them. I see that in my own home, and I’m grateful. I’ve also written about it here. Of course, every household looks different. This is just one version of the story, but I know I’m not the only one who sees it play out this way.
Have you felt this dynamic where you live—or is it different in your home? I know not everyone will agree with my take, but I’m curious what you see.
Sources
INSEE 2022 – Nearly 78% of women aged 25–54 in France are in the workforce.
DREES / Ministère des Solidarités et de la Santé, 2021 – French women still perform 71% of household chores and 65% of parenting tasks.
OECD Gender Data Portal, 2021 – U.S. women spend about 4.5 hours per day on unpaid care work, vs. ~2.25 hours for men.
EDHEC / OFRE surveys 2022 – ~72 % of French fathers take some paternity leave, but only ~10–16 % take the full 28-day entitlement post‑reform.
This essay was also partly sparked by something I read recently: “I Swore I’d Never Be That Woman” by Victoria de la Fuente. She writes about the slow slide into quiet resentment that can settle over even the most “equal” partnerships, the preschool forms, the mental tabs, the never-ending snacks. It stuck with me. And like she says: fine, fine, fine… until it’s not.
Next week in the French Enough? series: What the French Know About Vacation (That Americans Don’t). It’s not just about taking time off, it’s about how you see time off.
Women have always been the true leaders of society holding families, communities, and entire systems together, often without recognition. We need more women in visible leadership roles….not to add to their plate. lol
It does make me wonder, though, was the school’s directrice shaped by a more traditional, old-school perspective where the expectation was that moms handle everything? Or is this still common among younger generations of female educators, consciously or not, passing down the expectation that mothers be the default do-it-alls?
Here in Carcassonne, we’ve noticed a lot of dads at drop-off and pick-up. Personally, I’ve never felt that it’s “just the moms.” But as a family with two dads, I’m also aware that our experience is different. What I can say is: I see you. I see the invisible labor, the expectations, the emotional juggling act so many women perform every single day. And I applaud you.
As for us, we’re doing our best to raise a strong, independent little lady who, one day, will be able to say, “My husband will be by later,” and then casually French exit like a boss.
Very interesting read, thank you! I’m an American who lives in Norway and had both of my kids here. Norway is considered very egalitarian when it comes to gender roles, including childcare and housework and I find that to be pretty true in my own household, community, and friend group. Our public daycare system also has a transition period when they start as toddlers, and when my daughter started last year I would say it was about 50/50 moms and dads there with there kids, which is totally normal and expected. Most dads here see this is an important rite of passage for their kids and want to be involved. And actually, my husband did most of it since he has more paid days off for this specific purpose than I did.
Same goes for staying home with sick kids, pick up and drop off, etc. Looking around, it really is about 50/50. A lot of this has to do with the fact our parental leave system includes a “father quota” of 15 weeks that is reserved for the dad and if he doesn’t take those weeks then the family loses them all together. He can also take more, that’s just the minimum. So there’s a very high rate of dads taking long paternity leaves, which becomes a power in numbers thing; after awhile, the workplace and cultural stigma goes away and the opposite starts to happen: people think its weird if dads don’t take a significant amount of leave and if they aren’t actively involved parents. Which is great!
One thing though is that although Norway’s rate of workplace participation for women is very high (about the same or even higher than France’s) a lot more women than men switch to part time (usually 3 or 4 days a week instead of 5) after having kids. So then women end up doing more childcare because they’re home more. It also negatively affects women getting promotions, leadership roles, raises, and board positions. So everywhere, even in the most equal places, women are still taking on more of the load and labor childcare.