Stay At Home Dad Meets the Nanny
So, I have something I need to confess. I have been using a nanny 2 days a week, 8 hours a day for about 2 months now. I am going through another identity crisis. 'What am I?' Am I still a, SAHD, or am I part time SAHD?
As I search the inner most part of my soul (usually on the days the nanny is here) I keep coming up with the same answer. As much as it pains me, I realize that...I DON"T CARE!!! I HAVE 16 hours a week to do things; odds, ends, write songs, speak with my adult friends, do some pet jobs, whatever I want!
Now for those of you who are asking, "Why does Stay At Home Dad need time off from his kids?" Well, the answer is actually pretty easy, see, my wife realized I was going a little insane. Two kids from 7:30am to 8:00pm 5 days a week was wearing me down. Now, I'm not looking for sympathy. I understand there are parents out there dealing with more kids and more stress, but I won't make apologies for my life. My mother thinks there is a biological component at work, i.e. women are naturally better equipped to handle child rearing, both physically and psychologically. At first, I feigned insult, " Well, that's just sexist! Men can do anything a woman can do (except bear children and play in the WNBA), but once I got off my high horse, I reconsidered her point. Perhaps, there is some truth to what she said. But, to reiterate, I am not a psychologist, and I detest using "studies and labels" as an excuse for my behavior, plus I'm trying be light hearted here, so I'll just accept my feelings and decisions as my own. I was losing my mind at times.
However, there is a component of guilt, especially with regard to my three year old. I've been with her nearly everyday of her life and it is taking some effort to warm her up to the nanny. I try and justify the nanny by saying that she needs to get used to other authority figures in order to prepare her for school. And in my heart I believe this to be true. But it doesn't make it any easier; hearing her cry and asking me where I'm going on the days the nanny comes over...its hard to take as a parent. You see, deep down I know that this is mainly for me, and I guess I have a hard time admitting it.
The funny thing is, its taking me time to adjust to the nanny. Meaning, what do I do with my time, and how do I balance my time, so that I'm not running in circles trying to do everything, and then getting depressed when I don't. Even more interesting, is that I feel very guilty when I just want to take a walk and have a cup of coffee. It seems as if I'm on "borrowed time" and therefore, I better make 100% full use of it, but I am learning that this isn't realistic, and not particularly healthy for me. When I have work its easy, the world makes sense in a pathetic rat race sort of way, but I'm learning that down time is necessary and actually enjoyable. I know my wife busts her hump 5 days a week, and works long hours to support our family. But there is a certain amount of unfettered freedom for her that I don't have, even though it is under the constrictions of her job. She speaks with adults, has a coffee break if she wants, listens to her ipod to and from work, etc... Is it a case of , "the grass is always greener"? or is it a legitimate trade off I'd love to make? I don't think I'd really want to trade up with her. I am a dysfunctional musician who relocates animals for a living. I am perfectly positioned for being a dad; immature and fixated on Spongebob. But I still get the pangs of wanderlust (like all parents), and now I have been given a few days to get my rocks off. My wife is pretty amazing.
So, there's no real identity crisis. I know who I am and what I need to do. The two days are a gift, and I want to use my gift to be a better Dad and a better husband. If I can get out of my own way I'll see that now it should be a little easier.
Labor Potty Training Day Weekend
My wife were told by several friends that the way to potty train your child is to spend 3 days at home with him/her, no pants, lots of paper towels, and tons of patience. This information was verified on the interweb, so we decided that Labor Day weekend we would break our little bronco (toilet wise that is).
I admit I am always skeptical of...just about everything...so I was half expecting the whole thing to crumbled on the floor, like so many CD jewel cases my daughter has dropped or stepped on. Well, here I am on Day 4, alone mind you, and I'll be damned if this method isn't working. I don't need to get into the minutes that crept by on this,the most beautiful Labor Day Weekend ever, but the major stuff happened on Day 1 as the glorious sun made its daily dance across the cloudless sky, you could almost hear angels laughing....sorry...the weather was pretty amazing.
Have you ever sat on a bathroom floor with your wife for 13 minutes while staring at your child who you know has to pee? It must be what it like to be placed in the "hole" at a penitentiary. Yeah. After awhile you start to lose your mind. The mantra, "Do you have to go to the potty?" makes you a little insane, but by the 3rd day you no longer have the ability to think, and so you don't really care for your sanity.
To get back to the actual 'training'...my wife and I were most concerned with #2, the deuce, or something we refer to as "ploppsy Mc Moppsy". So, we were concerned that, "that", might no be as smooth, but lo and behold!!!! She nailed it on her first try. We were all very excited.
I know the road ahead is still filled will pitfalls;the occasional accident, outside of the house bathroom training, car rides, etc...but I learned not to underestimate my child(or my wife and myself). This weekend showed me that she is capable of doing anything, and as knelt beside her in the water closet I got a little sad, because my daughter was really growing up.
Rock and Roll Over…again!!
After a brief hiatus (from sanity) I have decided to continue my blog; for myself if no one else.
It has been a full 4 months or so since I last posted to my site and its been 4 months since my mind has shifted back into a groove I was once used to.
Stay at Home Dad with 2 kids can be brutal. I sort of forgot the non stop attention that a newborn demands. Yet, I also forgot how you can always put them in the old pack and play while checking scores or drinking coffee.
My youngest is about to become 5 months old and my older daughter will shortly be turning 3 years old. The plan for my wife and I was simple; our older daughter will love to be daddy's little helper with her new sister. At this point I will start typing "Ha!" repeatedly for several pages until it ceases to be funny. On second thought, I will spare you that symbolic gesture and continue.
It has probably taken this long for my oldest (we will refer to her as "T", to get used to the idea that the new toy that can scream and poop, (we'll refer to her as "D"), is here to stay. After extensive research I have found that this is actually normal. What isn't "normal" is that "D", the youngest (4 months) is crawling. Minimal with the feet, but moving nonetheless.
I thought I'd have more time to lay her safely on her play mat and take care of bathroom business in the morn...no such luck. (Did I mention I love my Pack and Play.) So I am active, all day. Chasing , changing, feeding, and on it goes. Two kids makes raising one seem like a nap in a hammock on a lazy spring day. Ahhh. Sleep and dream... Sorry only children, this is why you have disorders. On the upside I've reacquainted myself with periodic celibacy, except now I am the one with the headache. I find it conserves much needed strength and clarity for the day ahead. Going to bed at 9:30 pm is not uncommon.
And you know what else I have learned in these 4 months since I last blogged. Stay At Home Dad is like the new black. It is fashionable. I've seen articles about it, Marie Claire just had one and it was pretty accurate, with regards to the psychology of it all. It is becoming so chic that there are dads in my neighborhood who are intentionally getting fired from their jobs so they can be Stay At Home Dads. You'd think that I'd be happy at my popularity, but no. I'm a curmudgeon. I'm not happy. When beards became popular I shaved mine off. When flannels were back in style,( again,) I wore T shirts. When wearing pants was considered "cool", guess who was pant-less. That last one is to illustrate that I am a negative reactionary or "a jackass". I can't help it. The real truth is I never gave up on flannels, I was just wondering why they ever went out of style. Back to my point...it is becoming a little easier to say that, "I am a Stay At Home Father." So, whether it is "my" time or kismet, or a mental release or I'm trying to quit smoking, I am back writing and (cue the sensitive violins) sharing my story with everyone or anyone who reads this.
I suppose the strangest thing of all is that for the most part, I am really happy with the way my life is. I sort of feel as though I was meant to do this. I mean, I am a musician and prone to fantasy and delayed development. Who better to raise my kids, me or my responsible wife with the career and 401k.
Coming up: usable content...maybe.
TWICE THE ADVENTURE
So, I am a "new" father, again, for the first time, for the last time (if I can learn how to dilute my sperm). The details of the birth of my second daughter are enough to fill an exclusive article. Some of the highlights include; wizard spells, elixirs, and conduit...I'll get around to that tale at a later date.
Since I am not mentally at full power, I wanted to briefly summarize the lay of the land.
Last night as I was eating my 2 1/2 year old daughters Dr. Praegger Spinach patties for dinner, in my bed, in about 3 seconds, it hit me. My life is now truly gone. I guess I figured I had it all down, babies, poop, pee, lack of sleep, etc And in many ways my wife and I do have it down. We both knew what to expect, how to prepare, and how important it is not to speak with each other until we've both had our coffee. But you still have to execute, and we are, but oh boy!!! Its back to basics with a twist. Our 2 1/2 year old , the new big sister, king of the litter, she can be tender at times. Tender and explosive actually. From 0 to 80mph in 2 seconds flat. When I think about it , she is the biggest obstacle. Yeah, there wasn't enough emphasis on breaking in the first born in all the discussions with regard to the new born. And being a first born child myself, it is no wonder I always felt superior to my sibling...and I mean forever. Its hard to shake that everlasting shock of a new baby "stealing" the attention that was always mine. My heart goes out to all the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, born children.
I'm going to go and play with my older daughter and meditate on this. She just learned how to spit on the floor, so I'm gonna deal with that. I figure while my wife is still on maternity leave I can coddle my first born do the general maintenance with my new born.. In about 2 1/2 weeks its game over. We'll probably all be eating spinach patties in bed...in a mental asylum.
Parenting…MACH DEUX, From the Cradle to the Day Bed
And it all came back like a clap of thunder. TRANSITION!!! From crib to bed, or day bed in this case.
I must admit that my wife and I had a pretty good night time routine going; wash hands, brush teeth, warm bath, and WOOSH!!! Crib ->Sleep. We managed to watch some movies,television, have conversations together, perhaps a little adult time...oh man!!! It was sweet. However, a few months ago we noticed our daughter had taken a liking to adult beds; our bed, her grandparents bed, friends beds, your bed. She would actually get under the covers, tuck herself in and say, "Good night." and let out a fake snoring sound.
Well, last week I figured that it was time to turn her crib into a day bed, as per the instruction manual that came with her crib. I went out and bought her a new Winnie the Pooh sheet thinking that this would be an easy endeavor. WRONG!!! The first night was a lie. The second night was a lie . Then she just stopped lying altogether and made it plain that she wanted to sleep in our bed exclusively. Here's a little recap:
First Night- My little peanut brittle sandwich face (todays pet name for my daughter) was pretty exhausted from the holidays (see last posting) and she passed out at 8:30pm and slept till 6:30am in her new bed. My wife and I celebrated, "Victory! Our kid is great! Is there anything that can stop her?Tomorrow we'll teach her how to make coffee for us." Alas, Lies! A fluke I say!
LATER NIGHTS- Each successive night was worse than the next. She would fall asleep in the living room, and I would carry her off to her bed, but she kept getting up and walking into our bedroom. Sometimes she would only be asleep in her room 1 hour and we'd hear a cockerspaniel-like whimper, "Daddy?". And into our bed she goes!
So now it's serious hardcore parenting time. Dinner, bathtime, storytime, bedtime,...get out of bedtime, beg time, put back to bedtime, more get out of bedtime, (An hour or so later) bedtime for Mom and Dad, followed by, exhaustion, family-bedtime, cat in the bed time, numbness of limb-time, etc...
Yup, I made a huge mistake. I found a small, bizzare, comfort zone for myself, and I forgot the number one rule of the parenting...the only constant in the universe is change.
Next blog teaser: Stay at home Dad, and 2 kids???
The Rod Serling Effect
Happy New Year everybody. My only resolution this year is to write more "blogs" or "articles" on my site. Did I mention raising a child is time consuming? I thought I would take a few moments to "clean house" on the year gone by with respect to my family life. But instead, I thought it might be more fun to reflect on the holiday week in general. I like to call it OUT OF SYNC WEEK. By this I am referring to my daughter, who has been time traveling in all sleep zones for the past 10 days. Whether it was Christmas eve with the in-laws, or a tiny social gathering among friends, or an 8 hour day with my family for a Christmas Day gift massacre, my kid is not right.
Submitted for your approval. A toddler we will simply call "Ms. T". And a robust gift giver by the name of Santa. Twelve days of holiday cheer that turned into 12 nights of satanic misery. What happens when the apple of your eye quickly turns into the applesauce down your pants. Let us journey now into the nether region of cartoon and nightly news. A place where the "binky" meets the eye. A state of undoing that no cup of coffee can correct. A place I like to refer to as...The Twilight Zone.
Could it be too much excitement? Too much attention? Too much pasta? Too much rock and roll? Yeah, it's probably all of the above. No doubt all parents experience this rift in time, the black hole in Toddler-dom, where nap time could be anytime. Where bowel movements are few and far between. Where outfit changes become obsolete (see Hugh Hefner). Where bedtime is anybody's guess, and location...well, that's dealers choice.
My mind is a little fuzzy from last nights lack of sleep, but I believe that this started Christmas eve at my sister in laws house. I noticed a strange phenomenon: Nudity. Not the regular nudity my daughter enjoys. Those passive few minutes between her street clothes and pajama time. I am talking about extended nudity. Nudity , unbridled and quite lively. It actually appears to be both liberating and refreshing, but after the first hour, a little extreme. This seemed okay in front of her immediate family but what about play dates? What about lunch in a fine eating establishment? What's worse, is the end game, the "lets chase you around with a diaper before you sit on furniture sans pants". She just loves that, but what she doesn't love is the end result...her with a diaper on and a face full of tears.
Onward and upward... diet!! A little spaghetti, kielbasa, chips, seltzer, chicken nuggets (I am becoming ill myself) does not a happy baby make. Sure, she's happy at the time, and no, Mommy and Daddy are not the main culprit ( that is a grandparents job), but this obviously disrupted more than her sleep. wink wink, You see she was not laying the golden egg, if you get my meaning. Not laying it for several days in fact. Ahh!! A fantastic ripple effect, no pooh, no sleep, no fun. could this week get any better? Why yes it can.
It was not enough that my daughter was now going to bed anywhere between 10:30pm and 11:30pm, in fact a few times after my wife and I had fallen asleep on the couch. Somewhere along the line she decided that the martial bedroom was the communal bedroom. Nearly every evening ended on the same note, "Mommy, Daddy, bed." And off to bed we all went. I don't know about you, but I (and my wife) never sleep soundly when my daughter is in bed. Therefore, the plan is to let her fall asleep and put her in her own bed as quickly as possible. (Before we both fall asleep) In addition, I enjoy reading before I go to sleep. A few pages to pass the time between reality and the craddle of dreams. And I must emphasize, I really really love to read before bed. It is my private escape. If I could hold book reading parties in my bedroom I would, that is how much I enjoy it. Sadly, my daughter does not enjoy her father's reading habits. There are many moves she has created to interrupt all sense of peace and harmony, but the "Lumberjack" or "High dive" as I call it, is the worst. The premise is this. I start to read, she stands straight up and proceeds to fall on top of me, much like a wrestler in a closed cage death match. Ouch!!! All clad in her pajamas for days on end, like a mad bachelor at the height of the Playboy Mansion. And on it goes...
It has all been a bit of struggle. We've only just started to set her straight. So as you can guess, I am glad that the travel, massive meals, and general late night horse play have come to a close this magical holiday season.
Maybe I watched too much Twilight Zone on New Years Day, but I doubt it. I feel like my wife and I have to start from zero with scheduling in order to rip our child from the clutches of alternate dimension of time and space. And if I learned anything from 2 years and 4months of child rearing it is this, SCHEDULING makes life easier.
VIVA 2010!!!!
Take Stay at Home Dad Out to The Ballgame
I am a father, husband, musician, and a baseball fan. To be more specific, I am a Yankee fan, and have been ever since 1978, when I got Bucky Dents' autograph at the Triangle Shopping Center in my hometown.
My closest friend happens to work for MLB.com and I have had the pleasure of seeing my team in the ALCS (game 6 clincher-Holy Crap), and the World Series game 2 (one of the biggest thrills of my life). It is here that I found the subject matter for this entry...Baseball+ Bleachers+ Rabid fandom+fatherhood+other people with children=BEWILDERMENT
Children on the Job with On the Go Dad
Here's a quick one...
As you all know from my first post, my "money making" job consists of all things in the field of animal transport. The main skill sets related to this are; drivers license, conceptions of time and distance, modest strength, the ability to use a phone, driving whilst breathing out the window in case of an unauthorized bathroom break by said animal, and most of all PATIENCE. The biggest headache in my line of work are nervous clients/animal owners, and slow cargo facilities ( which is where I pick up/drop off pets).
I learned pretty quickly that I would often have to take my daughter on some of these jobs, for better or worse. The first jobs I took her on were made more difficult due to the fact that she couldn't walk, so...imagine trying to lift up a 70lb bob cat while making sure your infant daughter isn't about to become a mid morning snack break. -(Note to child care services* this is a joke on many levels. A. I have never transported a bob cat. B. The majority of my jobs are in the evening so any meal would be considered dinner, possibly a late lunch.) The point is, that it is rather difficult handling the animals and my kid. However, as time has passed, there was one silver lining which revealed itself, "daddy/ daughter favoritism"- from those with warm blood in their hearts.
Stay At Home Dad and Breast Feeding Among Strangers
My daily trips to the park often yield wonderful life changing experiences for my daughter and myself. New words, new feats of strength, coordination, and new friends. My daughter is now entering her age of exploration which often means walking up to other children and parents to see what they're doing or what toys they have. One such occasion brought me face to face with a new adventure for me...public breast feeding. I must be clear on this, I have no problem with breast feeding, my wife breast fed and I have seen other women breast feed first hand. It is great, healthy and so very natural. However, I was mentally unprepared for the situation I had yet to encounter, until last week, one on one conversation/breast feeding.
Potty Training Day!? BOOM!!! Daddy
Howdy. A quick thought came over me as I was going to the bathroom ( #1 incidentally). My daughter has a tendency to follow me wherever I go, which means she has the tendency to follow me WHEREVER I go...including the bathroom Normally I don't mind. I figure that she can't get into trouble if I'm in the shower and she's playing with Q-tips or moms' make- up brush (sorry Mom), but when Dad has to do other things...For the sake of decorum lets just focus on pee -pee, and since I refer to it as "pee pee" to my daughter, I will not deviate here. I call it "pee pee" and now she calls it "pee pee", and as you can tell it is a fun word to type. So, there I am standing up, trying to make good educational use of the experience.