Mothers and fathers parent differently by God’s design, each offering unique strengths—nurturing comfort and protective play—that together create a fuller, balanced foundation for a child’s development and well-being.
“Don’t forget—she likes these three books in this order before bed. It only took her 21 months, but she’s finally over Goodnight Moon. And make sure to sing the song while brushing her teeth. You do remember the words, right? Are those the ones I made up way back with our first kid? Oh, and lately, just before laying her down, I’ve been rubbing her back while swaying with her, humming Jesus Loves Me.”
“I’ve got it, Cecily,” my husband shouts back as he carries our 21-month-old down the hall. I’m sure he ignored 50—no, 70%—of what I said. But before I can dwell on it, my teething 8-month-old whimpers again, pulling my attention back. She needs to nurse, and I still haven’t figured out how to clone myself.
It’s not that my husband doesn’t know what he’s doing. This is our fourth baby—he could probably do it blindfolded and still do it well. It’s just that, long before they can form words, let alone sentences, I already speak their language. I decipher their cries. I soothe their struggles. I am their mom.
But he is their dad.
Maybe it’s the nine-year gap between our second and third child—thanks, secondary infertility—or the fleeting insights that easily escape my postpartum mom brain, but I know I learned this lesson already. Probably about 10 years ago. And yet, here I am, being reminded again: Dads do things differently. And that’s not just okay—it’s good.
What Scripture Reveals and Science Confirms
From the beginning, men and women were uniquely designed to fulfill distinct yet complementary roles in God's kingdom. “So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.” (Genesis 1:27 ESV) So it really shouldn’t surprise me, though I still need the reminder, that moms and dads were made to parent differently.
We are wired differently, especially when it comes to parenting. Take a study from the University of Sussex, for example. They used EEG to monitor brain activity in men and women while they slept. The results? Women were far more likely to be woken by a baby’s cry, while men were more disturbed by car alarms, howling wind, or buzzing flies.
As a mom, I’m deeply attuned to my baby’s cries, ready to soothe them in the middle of the night. But what’s even cooler is how my husband’s instincts are tuned to the safety of our home.
We live on a little homestead in East Tennessee, and while our livestock guardian dogs’ howls rarely stir me, he’s often up on the porch at night with a flashlight, scanning the dark for coyotes, foxes, or even bears hoping to steal our chickens.
Of course, that doesn’t mean he’s not there when our babies need him, too. With two under two, we both pitch in for the nighttime crying calls, but I can’t help but see how our differences play out in how we protect and care for our family.
In many ways, it feels like I instinctively know what they need and can meet those needs quickly. In our home, I call it the soothing heartbeat song. Those babies spent nine months being soothed to the tune of my heartbeat; it is the sound of home for them.
Isn’t it just like God to design our babies to know us before they fully open their eyes to the world? Science confirms what many of us have felt in our bones—the mother-child bond starts immediately and is built into their tiny brains and bodies.
One powerful study found that newborns can recognize their mother’s voice from birth. When given the choice to hear their mama’s voice or a stranger’s, babies will change their sucking pattern to listen to her. They know: “That voice... that’s home.”
Even more beautiful? Researchers found that a mother’s voice lights up key areas of a newborn’s brain, especially those tied to language and social development. God wasn’t kidding when He made us life-givers, nurturers, and teachers. Your voice is helping shape your baby’s brain.
These biological and neurological differences between mothers and fathers aren't just poetic ideas but measurable realities.
Mothers often produce more oxytocin during birth, breastfeeding, and nurturing moments, which helps us bond in profoundly intuitive ways. This is why a baby calms when placed skin to skin on a mother’s chest.
But this design doesn’t mean it’s always easy. There are still days when I feel the weight of the differences, when I wish he’d respond to things the way I would, when I feel overstimulated or unseen, and when I long for a more shared understanding of what I’m carrying.
But then God reminds me: I’m not the whole of what my child needs, and neither is he.
But together? Grace-covered, Jesus-following, humility-growing? We make a whole. Our children get to experience both softness and strength, safety and stretch, nurture and courage.
And that’s good.
The Unique Contributions of Fathers
One evening, the house was loud, dinner burning on the stove, preteens arguing, and our toddler bouncing from couch to couch while I held the baby. My jaw was tight. I was overstimulated and tired. Finished with work, my husband came in, plopped onto the couch,
and blasted some music while encouraging our toddler. The circus ring leader had entered. I almost said, “Now’s not the time!” But something stopped me.
Instead, I watched. And at that moment, I realized his play was anchoring us.
While we mommas often provide nurturing and soothing, fathers bring something else to the table through play: an opportunity to help their children understand strength, confidence, and respect for others.
This instinctual act is called rough-and-tumble play. This energetic, physical play—think chasing, wrestling, and playful tumbling—isn’t just about fun. It’s a critical part of a child’s development, especially regarding learning boundaries, social cues, and emotional regulation.
Fathers tend to experience increased dopamine and testosterone, primarily through interactive play. They’re wired to stimulate, engage, and challenge. Roughhousing, adventure, tossing toddlers in the air—these are more than antics—they're shaping neural development and confidence.
One study showed that children who engage in physical play with their dads tend to develop greater resilience and risk assessment skills. Their world expands as they’re safely pushed past their comfort zones.
His playful yet meaningful interaction teaches our children the balance of strength and tenderness, respect and fun. This resonates deeply with Psalm 103:13, which says, “As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him.”
Just as God connects with His children in ways that meet their unique needs, fathers have the privilege of using rough-and-tumble play to connect with their kids, especially.
Together, it’s a fuller picture.
The more I leaned into this truth, the more freedom I found. I stopped trying to make us parents the same way and began valuing how his way strengthened our children. He wasn't missing what I was giving, but adding what I couldn't.
His energy was steadying our chaos.
His strength was a kind of safety, and it was good.
The Harmony Found in Parental Differences
I used to think we had to parent the same.
I needed to do what he was doing, or he needed to do what I was doing. If I researched something and landed on a decision, we should both implement it the same way. That if I were responsive and present, he should be too. That if I was affectionate and intuitive, he should be too. That if I was overwhelmed and overstimulated, he should be too. That if I was recovering from birth, sleeplessness, and hormonal shifts, he… should be too?
But of course, he wasn’t.
And at times, I didn’t understand him.
What I didn’t see then was that he wasn’t failing. He wasn’t careless. He wasn’t unfeeling or uninformed. He wasn’t uninvolved. He wasn’t doing it wrong.
He was fathering.
God made mothers and fathers with distinct strengths and natural tendencies. That’s not a flaw. That’s not a failure. Its design.
When Genesis tells us that God made man and woman in His image, it wasn’t a duplication—it was a display. They are two reflections of the same Creator, each showing different sides of His nature. They work together to help a child grow in all the ways they need—emotionally, physically, socially, and spiritually. Together, they bring comfort and consistency, confidence and adventure.
That night, after the chaos of the evening had settled, I found myself curled into the corner of our couch, nursing our 8-month-old. The hum of the dishwasher was the only sound. Her small hand tapped softly against my chest, and her eyes fluttered toward sleep.
The bedroom door creaked open. My husband walked out after putting our toddler to bed, smiling faintly. He sat beside me, close and warm, then leaned in and kissed our baby’s head.
Then, with his usual lighthearted smirk, he gently lifted her from my arms, holding her just above his head. She giggled—bright and uncontainable—as he dipped her side to side. I watched them, laughing quietly inside.
It was playful. Simple. And sacred.
It was the beginning of the rough-and-tumble joy she’ll come to know with him. The strength, fun, and spark that only he brings. The strong arms she will fall into with reckless abandon because she trusts he will be there to catch her—a reflection of her heavenly Father.
And I smiled.
Because this is what fathering looks like.
Not like me.
But just right.
And that’s not just okay.
That’s good.
For the mamas who love a little science to back it up:
● Newborns recognize their mother’s voice from birth and will adjust their sucking to hear it (DeCasper & Fifer, 1980).
● A mother’s voice activates emotional and learning regions in a child’s brain (Abrams et al., 2016).
● Babies can identify and are comforted by their mother’s scent within hours of birth (Marlier, Schaal & Soussignan, 1998).
● Maternal odor can regulate infant stress and reduce fear responses (Nishitani et al., 2009).
● Breastfed babies can recognize their mother’s unique scent over other women’s (Varendi, Porter & Winberg, 1994).
● Infants show a preference for maternal scent in calming and rooting behaviors (Sullivan & Toubas, 1998).
● Mothers are more likely than fathers to wake to a baby’s cry, while dads often react more to external noises (British Medical Journal, 2008).
● Men are more likely to sleep through a baby’s cry, while women’s brains stay more alert to that specific sound (Time Health, 2009)
● Crying babies have a profound emotional and physical impact on mothers, showing how much our bodies are wired to respond (Time, 2017)
● Father–child rough-and-tumble play is linked to emotional regulation and social competence (Fletcher, St. George & Freeman, 2013).
● Active father-child play supports cognitive flexibility and working memory (Tamis-LeMonda, Shannon, Cabrera, & Lamb, 2004).
Photo Credit: ©GettyImages/Antonio_Diaz
