(323) 863-3603 admin@ourmilkmoney.org
There’s a Monster in My House

There’s a Monster in My House

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.

Inclusion Delusion

Inclusion Delusion

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.