SAHDism

a collection of thoughts by a Stay At Home Dad

“The Year of Living Sequeiralously”

Archives for July 2013

Low Expectations, Highly Successful

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One great thing about being a Stay-At-Home Dad is that people expect so little from me that I get credit for even the simplest of tasks.

If I change a diaper in a public location, you should see the smiles and admiration.  Double points if my wife is present.  It doesn’t even matter if the other two children with my wife are throwing tantrums and the kid I’m changing is the mellowest one of the bunch – “Dad is helping”.

Grocery shopping, which millions of families do every day of the week, is a special occasion when I bring my kids.  I get smiles that say, “How wonderful it is of you to help out your wife.”  You might be thinking that perhaps I’m reading too much into people’s looks but, no, I’ve actually had people come up to me in the store to tell  me this.  Specifically, it’s the little old ladies – they have no problem speaking their mind.

It’s not all sunshine and roses, however.  All this goodwill comes from the assumption that Mom is doing the vast majority of the child-rearing.  So when my wife was on vacation visiting a friend out of town and I had the kids all to myself for a week, I really wasn’t in the right state of mind when someone came up to me and said, “Mom’s day off, is it?”  This was the one time that I strayed from my usual smile and told them, “Actually, I’m the one who stays home with my kids, and I don’t get a day off.”

Still, no complaints really, it’s a great situation right now.  The saddest thing is that as more Dads are staying home with their kids, I’m just becoming another parent doing my job.  Until such time, however, I’ll just keep milking it for what it’s worth.

The Taste of Bread

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As I was making grilled cheese sandwiches for the kids’ lunch today, I realized that after years of eating only cut-off crusts and end slices, I’ve forgotten what the delicious squishy insides of a loaf of bread actually tastes like.

Sugary Cereals

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My kids had recently been addicted to sugary cereals.  I’m not sure why we started buying them in the first place.  I think it’s because the box showed pictures of endangered species on them and apparently the sugar has less calories if it is taken in conjunction with environmental awareness.  I decided that it was time to ween them off this and was mentally prepared for the push back from the kids (“push back” = “screaming and stomping”).

Just before Day Zero of the New World Order, I came up with a flash of brilliance that I thought was worth sharing:

As I was about to serve them the boring crispy rice cereal, I brought out our sugar bowl and excitedly sprinkled a teaspoon into each kid’s bowl in front of them.  Can I tell you how excited the kids were at the fact that I, Daddy, the Sugar Nazi, actually sprinkled sugar on something for them.  Never mind that their cereal had barely a fraction of the sugar they previously ingested, they were completed excited and never fussed.  It was new and exciting and they were content (and I was relieved).

In this situation, I couldn’t have created a better outcome no matter how much I tried to rationalize the health benefits to my kids.  Being an engineer, my default is to resort to logic but it was pure marketing and salesmanship that won the day today.  Just another little parenting skill for me to continue developing, for the good of us all.

TGIF

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At our house, come 5pm every night is Friday night; unfortunately, come 6am every morning is Monday morning.

Bedtime Rituals

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I’ve found that a successful bedtime hinges upon rituals.  Kids who know and understand what’s about to happen are much more at ease and co-operative.

For the babies, it’s a bottle of milk and some snuggling in the rocking chair.  For the older kids, reading books and brushing teeth.  For Daddy, it’s a martini and a good cry.

I Suppose You’ll Do

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We’re on vacation in Sunriver and at the bouncy house, a favorite of our kids.  They love jumping and sliding and showing off their newest acrobatics, especially to my wife.  They love showing her stuff in part because she isn’t around as much and also because she is much more effusive and outgoing, whereas I’m more reserved.

Bennett gets to the top of the bouncy slide, ready to do his next trick, and calls out,

“Mommy, watch this!”

Unfortunately, my wife had just left for the bathroom and I let him know this.  Oh, you should have seen the sad look on his face.  He lowered his head and looked at his toes for a few seconds.  Then a flash of brilliance comes upon him and he starts smiling again.  He looks up at me and yells,

“Daddy, watch this!”

My Wild Days Are Long Gone

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We took the kids berry picking  and picked 25 pounds of berries.  I took some of the berries to make raspberry syrup for homemade lemonade.  It was amusing to think that in a mere twenty years, I went from that crazy Muthafucka Stuart to Martha fucking Stewart.

Booty Call

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My kids can ignore and mistreat me all day and yet,  in the middle of the night, they come with those sad puppy dog eyes and crawl into my bed.  It’s sort of a toddler booty call.

A Bad Evening and a Moment of Clarity

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My three year old just couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted this evening.  I asked if he wanted ketchup or mustard on his hot dog and he said “Mustard.”  When I brought him his hot dog he got mad and said he wanted ketchup, not mustard.  After a quick rebuttal, I realized that it was futile so I ate the hot dog with mustard and got him another with ketchup.  At this point, he decided he wanted the black bean burger his cousin was eating (she’s in town visiting).  I promptly ate the hot dog with ketchup and prepared a black bean burger, giving him a quarter of it so that he doesn’t mangle the rest into something inedible (I, of course, quickly ate the remaining three quarters).  Then he argues that he doesn’t like hamburgers, he wants a hot dog…

I ask my niece to take the bigger kids to watch a movie on the computer while I take young Harry upstairs.  He and I snuggle in front of a big box fan and he’s crying (and my stomach is gurgling).  I feel bad for him –  he just can’t figure out what he wants and he can’t find the words for it either.  Normally I’d get frazzled in this situation and I’m surprised to have this moment of clarity and understanding instead of getting irritated.

Maybe it’s because it’s tough to be angry on a full stomach.

Not What I Had In Mind

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Mick, Lilliana, Bennett, and Harrison sleeping in our bedMy wife and I love trying new positions in the bedroom.  Unfortunately, for us this means figuring out how to get comfortable after one, two, or even three children crawl into bed with us in the middle of the night.