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Chris Loprete, daddysden, Dads
My wife and I are either crazy or stupid or so self loathing that we feel we deserve to be punished. It must be that, right? How else would you explain it? Why on Earth but for any of the above reasons would anybody want to go through this again and so soon after the first time? Oh by the way, my wife and I are expecting our 2nd child. Thank you. Yes, it is very exciting. We’re thrilled.
Sure. Whatever.
It is said that the body and mind are able to block out memories of pain and misery. That must be true. If it weren’t, all families would only have one child. We would be a “single child” society. Maybe the Chinese are on to something after all. My wife is in the last weeks of her 1st trimester. She’s miserable, fatigued, nauseous, hormonal, oh and trying to raise a toddler on top of all that. It only gets better from here on out. Soon will come the heartburn, the restless nights, and the various physical ailments that accompany a pregnancy.
My wife will go through some of these symptoms too.
Then it will all culminate in that “wonderful day” that I described in a blog a few months ago. Oh, but wait. There’s more. Just when we trained our first child to sleep through the night, here comes baby # 2 to carry the sleep deprivation torch. It’s time to get spit up on again and time to look forward to another 2 years of changing diapers. Now once the baby comes, our little boy will be 3 years old so I’m sure he’ll be able to take care of himself by then, yes? No, you say? In fact he’ll require even MORE attention so as not to incite any sibling jealousies? Oh great. So I have THAT to look forward to as well.
We’ll be finding out the sex. I’m not sure I understand the “we want to be surprised” philosophy. There are enough surprises on the day your baby is born anyway so why not knock as many of them out as you can before hand? My wife and I want a girl. We would be happy with a healthy baby no matter what the sex … but come on. Neither of us can handle another boy running around this house. We’re just barely able to keep this one from burning down the neighborhood, why would we want to unleash another Y chromosome onto the world?
Our little boy sees the potential though. The toddler Sith Lord needs his apprentice and knows that together they can rule the galaxy. He has stated very plainly that he wants a little brother. He has also made it clear that he wants us to name the baby “Braden”. We have assured him that while it is a beautiful name, it is also
his name and things could get confusing around the house if we duplicated it. So, while we would love a little boy just as much, my wife and I are hoping for a girl. And then we’re hoping she’ll magically turn into a boy when she reaches high school. At least I am.
So why do it? It’s not like it was forced on me. My wife didn’t suddenly leap across the bed and ambush me as I innocently read a book. (Believe me I would have loved it…) No, we actually tried to conceive another child on purpose and succeeded. In fact I am very proud to say that THIS time, we didn’t need any help from the medical industry.
Nope.
All me, baby.
A solo slam dunk with no time left on the clock.
Thank you.
So why go through all of this again? The answer is simple. Why the hell not? I can’t go out anymore anyway, so I might as well raise another kid and get them all out of the house at the same time so I can go back to enjoying my life.
Okay that’s only part of it.
The truth is our little boy needs a sibling. He has friends, but he needs to be a big brother. He’s only two, but we can almost feel his loneliness. On a recent trip to the park he slid down the slide, looked around and shouted “Hello?!” to an otherwise empty playground. It was if he was saying, “this is only fun if I can share it with someone.” It’s heartbreaking to me when he wants to play with his toys and doesn’t have a playmate. Oh, shut up, I play with him plenty, okay? I just don’t have the energy of a 2 year old. I have the energy of a 37 year old that’s raising a 2 year old which amounts to… not a lot of energy. There are selfish reasons for having another child too. I got a little teary-eyed when I took his crib down and put him in his “big boy” bed for the first time this past month. It’s only been two years but I get very nostalgic when I look at pictures of my boy as an infant and how small he looked in my arms. I had been warned about how fast they grow up and while my son isn’t exactly borrowing the car or moving out of the house, I do feel like those early stages of life are past him. I’d like to experience them just once more. I’ll savor them a little longer this time.
I promise.
Then we’re done. Seriously. I don’t care how fast this one grows up. I’m not doing this any more.
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daddysden, Dads
By Nathan Bright
We’re a one-income family. I haven’t worked for two point five years. My wife’s employment is based on a federal grant. The government is amputating limbs to save green. You see where this is going.
Spring 2011… that’s when Uncle Sam turns off our financial faucet. Worry. Fear. Anxiety. And those are just the feelings our dog has shared with us.
Many families are facing tough times. I will say it’s harder when the only bread winner takes a hit. If we both did the daily grind it would merely be matters of tightening our belt, cutting back and sacrificing. We’ve already juggled those three to get where we’re at, so now what?
All is not doom and gloom. There is a slight possibility my wife can make a lateral move, but I stress the phrase “slight possibility.” Nothing is carved into stone. The light is now cast on me.
High School Counselor: “So, Nathan, what do you want to do?”
Me: “I don’t know.”
High School Counselor: “What do you like to do?”
Me: “I don’t know.”
High School Counselor: “If you could do anything, regardless of money, what would it be?”
Me: “Get massages from super models while playing video games and drinking beer from one of those helmets that have the tubes running down from two beers. And there’d be chocolate cake.”
High School Counselor: “That’s illogical.”
Me: “Don’t ask stupid questions. Now I’m craving beer.”
I’ve polished up my résumé, but I find myself in an eerily similar situation as in high school. I’m an excellent worker – smart, innovative, don’t gossip, buy thoughtful holiday presents for under $10 – but what employer would hire someone like me when they can choose from barrels of specialized talent floating in the recession pool?
Another question – do I act now or wait? We’re under a cloud of uncertainty, but me securing a job now would alleviate that stress. But then what? Throw the kids into daycare just to find out in seven months we didn’t have to? Uhgg.
Fortunately we have time to make decisions. My resume is also getting a much-needed sand blasting. I can say with confidence we don’t regret a single moment of providing the kids with a stay-at-home parent. They’ve benefitted greatly from this experience, and we’re optimistic about the next phase of our lives.
As for me, I’m brushing up my skills in order to land my dream job: I’m giving the dog a massage while she eats cake… she looks pretty stressed. I’ll drink the beer.
Nathan Bright is a 30-something stay-at-home dad who resides near St. Louis, MO. He is a husband to an amazing woman and father to a doubly amazing 2 year old little girl. His blessed home is scheduled to be even more blessed in March, as Nathan and his wife will welcome a second daughter to their family. When Nathan is not blogging for OurMilkMoney.com’s The Daddy’s Den, he writes and illustrates his own children’s books. Available for purchase immediately is Maddi Patti and her Stay-at-Home-Daddy.
daddysden, Dads, Family
I buried the Snickers on a mountain overlooking a pristine lake. The other hikers in my group ate theirs days prior…like animals, but not me. A candy bar was given to us halfway through our 150 mile hike in the Cascade Mountains back in 2003. Food being scarce, a saved treat such as a Snickers had more worth on a mountain than Lindsay Lohan driving a Marlboro truck into cell block eight. And I buried it.
Why? Sacrifice. Now I’m not so pious that I came out of those mountains with tablets, but I did feel a sacrifice of that magnitude would help scrub my soul (if it got muddy during my early 20s). History is now repeating itself.
Fast forward to present day. I’m poor. Poor is a bad descriptive word because in the grand scheme I’m a zillion times more fortunate than most of the world’s population. Let’s just say I’m justifiably frugal. I’m also socially extinct. Few visitors to the house, no outside associates, and maybe one RedBox rental a month keep me pretty contained. What’s the reason? *Snickers* Not the candy bar, I mean that I just snickered as I was getting ready to write this: Because I’m a stay-at-home parent. Yet again, I’m sacrificing.
My wife and I have chosen to sacrifice a ton to make this happen. It’s not very apparent just how much we’ve given up until we talk to other people. As I listen to them speak I hear my thoughts saying, “What do you mean you went out twice this week…I get to eat out once every 60 days!” But it’s worth it. We believe in what we’re doing so strongly that we’re willing to sacrifice a lot to do it.
Antenna television – yes. Willing to be the crazy coupon person in the check-out line- yes. Toilet paper square limit three – yes (modifications to this rule arise from time to time).
Again, it’s worth it. I truly believe my kids and family benefit as a whole immensely from having an at-home parent. I also feel the sacrifices in my life, such as the Snickers and self-imposed fiscal-chop, have made me stronger. When viewed in a certain light those things we give up don’t really seem to big. In fact, the intrinsic gain is so great it’s as if nothing has been given up at all.
Now if only I could find that Snickers coupon.
Nathan Bright is a 30-something stay-at-home dad who resides near St. Louis, MO. He is a husband to an amazing woman and father to a doubly amazing 2 year old little girl. His blessed home is scheduled to be even more blessed in March, as Nathan and his wife will welcome a second daughter to their family. When Nathan is not blogging for OurMilkMoney.com’s The Daddy’s Den, he writes and illustrates his own children’s books. Available for purchase immediately is Maddi Patti and her Stay-at-Home-Daddy.
daddysden, Dads, Family
No there’s not. Monsters don’t exist. What does exist are newborn babies. The five-week old variety in my home, to be precise. The similarities between her and a monster are staggering.
For one, she’s scary. My two-year old is freaked out by the primal screams echoing through the house at any given time. I’m scared of what she’s capable of, seeing how she already inflicted bloody pain on my wife during birth. It took a team of nurses to clean up the mess. Just horrible.
Her eating habits mirror that of a monster. My wife, bless her soul, is breastfeeding. Although I’ve never actually seen a real monster eat, I’m pretty sure it would be similar (that is, if while ingesting food parasite-style, a monster tends to fart a lot).
She was born with a lot of hair. Monsters have hair.
My baby/monster eats other things, too. She transgresses the boundaries of physical space and can actually devour my time. It literally took me 3 hours one day just to pee. This is a basic function I previously enjoyed with much frivolity. NO MORE! The monster has taken my time to pee. Just horrible. Monsters are gross. Babies are grosser. By analyzing these two statements one can conclude, with philosophically sound logic, that I have a super monster. Liquids, solids and gases of all color have made their way out of her. It’s not enough to simply change a dirty diaper, but she will literally spray venom at you like that little dinosaur from Jurassic Park. Now don’t tell anyone I told you this, but last week *I can’t believe I’m going to share this* she almost pooped in my mouth a little. I won’t offer all the details, but let’s just say I was inspecting a diaper rash with slack-jawed curiosity when the worst nearly happened. If that doesn’t convince you she’s a monster, I don’t know what will. Just horrible.
She can’t talk. Some monsters have speech problems as well.
Have you ever seen the X-Men Wolverine movie where Hugh Jackman’s love interest can persuade people to do things just by touching them? My baby/monster has that power. Now she’s here and our family is complete my wife and I have been talking about surgical options for birth control. Surgical. Options. Prior to this the closest a knife would’ve come to my “area” was, well… never. Ever. Never ever. To summarize, my baby is an X-Men mutant who has influenced us to harm ourselves.
Weak neck. The blob had no neck.
The saving grace here is the Gremlins. Gizmo was a monster. My baby doesn’t like bright light. She isn’t fond of getting wet. But she is exceptionally cute and sweet, much like that loveable mogwai. She doesn’t get carried around in a backpack the way Gizmo did, but another contraption – the Bjorn – is arguably identical. Even though she terrorizes us we love her anyway. Oh, and one last thing. Never feed her after… wait, we ALWAYS feed her after midnight. Ahh, so that’s where the ugly monster comes from!
In conclusion, if you have a cute monster at your house you need only follow one rule: don’t feed them after midnight. That, and don’t look too closely at diaper rash with your mouth open. Just horrible.
Nathan Bright is a 30-something stay-at-home dad who resides near St. Louis, MO. He is a husband to an amazing woman and father to a doubly amazing 2 year old little girl. His blessed home is scheduled to be even more blessed in March, as Nathan and his wife will welcome a second daughter to their family. When Nathan is not blogging for OurMilkMoney.com’s The Daddy’s Den, he writes and illustrates his own children’s books. Available for purchase immediately is Maddi Patti and her Stay-at-Home-Daddy.
Chris Loprete, daddysden, Dads
By Chris Loprete
A 1955 edition of Housekeeper’s Monthly released a Good Wife’s Guide. Please look it up and read it. It’s priceless. Here are some examples on how to be a good wife when your husband comes home.
- Prepare yourself. Put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh looking
- Remember he is the master of the house. Don’t question him
- Try to encourage the children to be quiet
- Don’t greet him with complaints and problems
- Listen to him. His topics of conversation are more important than yours
- Try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his real need to be at home and relax
- A good wife always knows her place
And that barely scratches the surface. Now I know what you’re thinking. “Why oh why wasn’t I a husband in the 50’s?” No? Oh. That’s just me then. But even a Neanderthal like me sees how these “rules” simply don’t apply today. First of all, who says the “wife” is the one at home? I know several “House Husbands” and none of them put a ribbon in their hair before their wife comes home from work. They usually wait until the weekend. Also “his real need to be at home and relax” somehow indicates that the stay at home parent has been relaxing all day. A very reliable source has assured me that that is not the case. So with all of this in mind, I have composed a counter guide. I call it:
The Guide to the One Who Works Outside the Home
- Prepare yourself. You may be home from work, but you’re not done working yet
- Master of the House? You haven’t been home for 8 hours with whiny kids while trying to run a home based business. You’re not the master of anything
- Try to encourage the kids to be quiet (okay this is sound advice even in the 50’s. I think we can all agree on that)
- You’ve both got complaints and problems. Vent to each other and don’t play the “My day is tougher than your day” game. You’re both right. And wrong. Either way nobody wins
- Listen to each other. I’m sure you both have good topics of conversation. You may want to include the kids too. Check that. If you’re trying to talk to your spouse, the kids will include themselves…very…very loudly
- You both have a world of strain and pressure and a real need to relax. The sooner you help each other, the sooner you can both do just that
- A good wife does always know her place. So does a good husband. It happens to be the same place. Home. Be a team.
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daddysden, Dads, Family
By Nathan Bright
The first egg goes in beautifully. No trace of shell in the mixture at all. With my speed being matched only by artistry, I blister through the kitchen confident of a timely meal that will lead into clean-up, followed by coats, then a punctual appearance to a friend’s house.
“I help,” says my two year old.
Her words resonate like a movie moment demonstrating fear and confusion. “Of course you will sweetie,” I say. the Dad in me knows to include her in anything I can. It builds skill, confidence, and a bond between parent and child. However, the Me in me obsesses on the clock. She’ll slow me down. Dinner will be late. We’ll rush out the door and be tardy, again, to our function. Again.
I let her help. Eggs explode, raw meat almost in mouth, hair stuck to counter, falls off stool, cries, help stir, help wipe floor, help stir more, wipe floor more and dear-heaven-has-the-oven-been-preheating-for-an-hour-how-much-is-the-gas-bill-going-to-be?
This scenario plays out quite often. Patience in letting them help is par for the course. By letting them help we know it’ll be more work for us, but they need the experience anyway. But how does this translate into other areas?
I’m a stay-at-home-dad (by choice). Our numbers are growing. Just like any non-traditional movement there’s a stigma over which we’d like to hop. The “Mr. Mom” syndrome, if you will, such as the bumbling man guy who fashions duct tape into cereal bowls. As amazing as duct tape cereal bowls would be (and completely doable!) us stay-at-home-dads don’t want to be pigeon-holed into being thought of as bumbling.
I know I’m great at cooking, cleaning, kid activities, multitasking, etc., but what do others think of me? My fear is I’m viewed as the two-year old and my wife is the adult. It’s thought that she lets me help only to secretly clean up my mess afterward. These situations demonstrate what would come out of a child’s mouth and what folks would presume comes out of the stay-at-home-dad’s mouth:
Situation: Sweeping the Floor
Adult Figure and/or Wife Asks: “want to help?”
Two Year Old says: “let me walk through this pile of dirt first.”
Bumbling Dad says: “I’ll get the leaf blower.”
Situation: Laundry
Adult Figure and/or Wife Asks: “want to help?”
Two Year Old says: “I can fit 4 bras on my head.”
Bumbling Dad says: “I can fit 6 bras on my head.”
Situation: Grocery Shopping
Adult Figure and/or Wife asks: “want to help?”
Two Year Old says: “take me to the toys or I’ll cry.”
Bumbling Dad says: “take me to the beer or I’ll cry. Did you know I can fit 6 bras on my head?”
Point being – I’m not bumbling. I’m not merely included…I’m autonomous, much the way my two-year-old soon will be. I run an excellent home for the benefit of my family. My wife trust me to be productive and make good decisions. Now if you’ll excuse me I need to look into that duct tape thing. And maybe fold bras.
Nathan Bright is a 30-something stay-at-home dad who resides near St. Louis, MO. He is a husband to an amazing woman and father to a doubly amazing 2 year old little girl. His blessed home is scheduled to be even more blessed in March, as Nathan and his wife will welcome a second daughter to their family. When Nathan is not blogging for OurMilkMoney.com’s The Daddy’s Den, he writes and illustrates his own children’s books. Available for purchase immediately is Maddi Patti and her Stay-at-Home-Daddy.
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