When Both Parents Work: Finding Balance in a Dual-Income Household

Guest Written by Steve Henneberry

Hey gang! As I’ve mentioned in recent posts, I’m off the grid for the first few weeks of August, hopping time zones, chasing a bit of rest, and soaking up some overdue family time. Luckily, I’ve lined up a few thoughtful guest contributors and tucked away some prewritten pieces to keep things rolling while I’m out. Expect a new post every Monday until I’m back after August 19.

Today’s post comes from Steve Henneberry, a longtime friend, fraternity brother, fellow comms professional, and first time Substack writer! Steve helps lead communications at the University of Minnesota, and we recently reconnected over the shared joys and juggling acts of raising kids while managing careers in a field that never really “clocks out.”

In this piece, Steve shares what it’s like parenting in a dual-income household where both parents work full-time, not just logistically, but emotionally. It’s a candid look at partnership, priorities, and the daily recalibrations that come with raising kids when no one’s staying home full-time. Let’s dive in.

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When Both Parents Work: Finding Balance in a Dual-Income Household

By Steve Henneberry

A surgery waiting room at the children’s hospital is not the setting where I expected to start writing this post.

That line was written February 21, 2025. It’s now late June, and you won’t see this post for another several weeks.

Am I proud of that gap? Nope.

Is it a reflection of being in one of life’s busiest seasons? Yes.

That’s what I’m writing about.

My wife, Kelly, and I have three children, ages 9, 7, and 3. Our daughter broke her arm in February, requiring two surgeries. She’s fine now, and then, as now, we’re doing what all working parents must do: finding a balance between the demands of raising a family with working two full-time jobs. Sometimes (OK, often) those things compete with each other.

Working Parents are the Norm

In 2024, six in 10 households had both parents employed, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics. The dual-income household isn’t an anomaly; it’s the standard. That was somewhat surprising to me.

Growing up, my mom was, primarily, a stay-at-home mom. She had some part-time jobs and volunteered a lot, but, the breadwinner was my dad. Many of my friends at the private, catholic school in a suburb of Chicago also saw only one parent working, too.

That same report notes that, “the labor force participation rate--the percent of the population working or looking for work–for all mothers with children under age 18 was 74.0 percent in 2024, unchanged from the prior year. The participation rate for fathers with children under age 18 changed little at 93.5 percent in 2024.”

Now, as an adult, with a lot of life lived, that gap didn’t surprise me. What I saw as a child, and practice as an adult, is the importance of flexibility.

The Mental Math Never Stops

Why? Balancing work and parenting isn’t just about who’s picking up from daycare or making dinner. It’s constant calculus:

• Can I make this 4:00 meeting if practice starts at 5:15?

• Will they remember I wasn’t at that school play?

• Can I lead this project and still be emotionally present at bedtime?

Working parent households operate in shifts and trade-offs. Some weeks, one partner carries more at work; other times, it’s more at home. Ideally, it evens out. In practice, it’s uneven, unpredictable, and often unspoken.

Add in unexpected doctor visits, school closures, and of course, all. the. activities. and your “normal” week quickly becomes triage. We use an app called Cozi (not a sponsor!) that loads in both work calendars and kid items. It’s a lifesaver!

Working parents site difficulties with childcare and managing stress, according to recent surveys. Among mothers, in my view, the effect has to be more pronounced. Let’s pause on that for a moment: my wife’s mental load is more than mine. I’m not afraid to admit that. Her brain always works through logistics for three children, herself, me, (and the dog!) My brain can do this; it often does it too late, or not enough. It’s an area where I know I can get better, and where I know many dad’s struggle. This deserves its own post, so let’s get back to the topic at-hand.

The pace is unsustainable—and yet we sustain it. We find moments in the margins. We turn drive time into connection time. We make it work. But it’s worth asking: At what cost?

Guilt

Sitting at my daughters gymnastics practice and typing the remainder of this post is proving hard. I want to watch her and she wants me to watch her. I also know this is my best chance to finish this post. So I type and I watch. I watch and I type. We make eye contact, trade smiles, give hugs during water breaks. I’m here but am I fully present? It’s not just this example. I often respond to emails or text back at inopportune times. I feel guilty about it. And I know this guilt is gendered. Studies consistently show that working mothers report significantly more guilt than working fathers, driven by both societal expectations and internalized pressure. But fathers aren't exempt.

Men today are more involved in caregiving than previous generations. The Pew Research Center reports that fathers spend about eight hours a week on child care, triple the amount from 50 years ago. That progress doesn’t erase the cultural lag. We’re still catching up to the idea that being a present father is just as important as being a successful provider.

What Children Actually Need

Here's some good news buried in all the anxiety: kids don’t need us to be perfect.

Research from Harvard’s Center on the Developing Child shows that what children need most isn’t constant attention—it’s “serve and return” interaction. That means being responsive and engaged in the moments we are with them. Ten minutes of undivided, attuned connection can matter more than an hour of distracted multitasking.

In other words, it’s not just the quantity of time—it’s the quality of presence.

That’s something working parents can offer, even in a packed schedule. But it takes intention. And it often takes saying no to something else—an email, a social event, a stretch project—so we can say yes to the small, steady work of parenting.

There’s no formula for getting this right. Every family’s rhythm is different. Balance isn’t a perfect scale with equal weight on both sides. It’s a system of constant adjustment.

Some weeks, I knock it out of the park at work and feel like a mediocre dad. Other weeks, I’m the parent who shows up for everything but drops the ball at the office. And the moments of balance I find feel outstanding.

Those moments remind me that I’m not failing. I’m doing the work of being enough—not everywhere, not always, but where it counts.

Our kids are watching. They see what we value. They see us juggling and stumbling and recovering. They see us trying.

They also see when we put down the phone and look them in the eyes. When we remember the snack for the field trip. When we sit with them while they cry. When we show up.

That’s the kind of balance I want them to remember.