|
Steely Dad
On the Road (Never) Again
|
Posted
by steelydad at
11/1/2009 11:03 AM PST
|
At 9 PM Central on Thursday, Oct. 29, the Steely Family embarked on an ambitious adventure that most parents dare not even mention. What am I talking about? The Family Road Trip. So far, the trip has been pretty eventful, complete with overnight stays in Wal-Mart parking lots and dances with crazy drivers. During one stretch through Kansas, we were greeted with a noisome odor. Being that we were in rural Kansas, I assumed it was produced by bovine manure. However, this particular scent had that distinctive “human” quality. I took a quick peek in the backseat at Steely Daughter and was stricken by absolute fear at the site of my beautiful daughter covered in poop after having a colossal blowout! She had it all over her hands so this emergency required swift, evasive and direct intervention. Needless to say, we will be one pair of pants short on our return trip. This incident, along with some others, required me to take pause and ask the question: why do (sane) people go on road trips? More specifically, why do parents go on road trips with their kids? This trip has been different from all previous road trips. What happened to the romance of the road I recall, the road I knew intimately when Steely Wife and I camped across this great nation for our honeymoon (we subsequently enjoyed an Alaskan cruise but our camping adventure was our REAL honeymoon). The road I engage today is a distant relative of the one I once knew. The victim of an evolutionary defect that robbed it of its soul? Perhaps. Or perhaps it is me who had undergone the metamorphosis. Perhaps my psyche no longer requires the challenge of rugged survival on the road, but instead relishes in the creature comforts of the Four Seasons (or even the Sleazy 8, which is just as good as the Four Seasons after a sleepless night in a Wal-Mart parking lot). The reason we go on road trips is for the opportunity such adventures provide for self-introspection and self-discovery. On the road, our souls are baptized by the wind and the endless stretch of asphalt that leads to the horizon of our dreams. Of course, at this stage in my life, I feel confident I can obtain the same soul-searching revelations with a warm bed and a plasma TV. In any case, this stay-at-home dad wants to provide his loyal readers with a veritable “real time” experience of this unique adventure. Thus, I’m going to provide a kind of play-by-play narrative, including all the gory details, at Twitter (and maybe Facebook). So follow me: steely_dad for exclusive updates. Missed what’s already happened? You can read previous tweets on my Twitter homepage. And, in a Steely Dad first, I’m also going to attempt to provide ALL updates utilizing nothing more than my mobile communication device. Enjoy!
|
So You Want to be a Stay-At-Home Dad?
|
Posted
by steelydad at
10/28/2009 10:36 AM PST
|
OK, as a Modern Mom, I realize YOU don't want to become a stay-at-home dad (that would require painful surgery and hormone therapy) but perhaps you know a SAHD or a dad who is considering a career change. Being a stay-at-home dad takes some adjusting, perhaps more so than with most occupational changes. As a stay-at-home dad, a man is caught in a vortex between two worlds, neither of which he fully belongs. He doesn't exactly fit in with the stay-at-home moms and he doesn't fit in with the work-a-day dad. I imagine it being similar to what the first working women must've felt like when they were forging their path. Every man has a personal reason why they become a stay-at-home dad, just as people have different reasons for becoming doctors, attorneys, fire fighters, garbage picker-uppers and crack whores. If you'd like a personal account of my reasons for becoming a SAHD, read this post. Some men become SAHDs, not because they want to, but out of necessity. The economy has contracted and with it many male-dominated industries have shrunk. Check out this recent story. Many families have reevaluated their financial circumstances, deciding that Dad should stay home to care for the kids. I bet that at least some of these men who, after recognizing the bond they've created with their kids, decide to stay at home with the kids even after job opportunities present themselves. Other men make the conscious decision to be the primary caretaker of their children because by so doing they feel more fulfilled. These men wish to develop and nurture a different type of relationship with their children than compared with the "traditional role" dads. Whatever the case, the transition to becoming a stay-at-home dad can be daunting if one is not fully prepared. In this post, I'd like to provide some practical advice to help with the transition from breadwinner to bread-maker. Moms, please pass this along to any SAHDs you know or any soon-to-be SAHDs. 1. Understand that you will be surrounded by morons. What do I mean? You're going to meet people who either disapprove of your role as a SAHD or are condescending about it. My advice? Ignore them or, if you're particularly perturbed, hurl an insult like, "I hope your kids inherit your open-mindedness." Personally, I have trouble keeping my mouth shut especially when someone serves up a lob insult. I do, however, try to keep my come-backs fun. 2. You'll meet moms who, by the virtue of the fact that they have a vagina, believe they are better at caring for children than you. Again, ignoring them is the path of least resistance but is certainly not as fun as slipping in a left-handed compliment. I recall an incident when my nine-month old daughter started to cry for food when she saw another baby being given a bottle. My kid wasn't crying for more than five seconds when the mom of the other baby said, "You need to feed your child when she's hungry." Mind you, this "wonderful, caring" mother had one child compared to my two; that she had been a stay-at-home parent for all of a few months compared to my years of such experience and her baby’s mouth was infested with the worst case of thrush I’d ever seen, yet she still felt compelled to share this sage advice with me. I responded sarcastically with, "What? Really? You actually have to feed your children? I didn't know that. I thought they lived by pooping and crying. Why thank you for opening my eyes. I would've never known." The weird part? Most of the other mothers didn’t, as far as I could determine, thought her comments were inappropriate. Whatever you decide, know that you need not compare your ability as a father to anyone. You are a good dad and it does not matter what others might think. Who gives a rat's ass what they think? Can the comments and rude looks be hurtful? Sure they can but don't let them get to you. Parenting is the one job in which comparison to your peers is a fruitless path. Plus, I find that those parents who try to take a holier-than-thou approach are usually deeply insecure about their own parenting style. 3. Listen and observe. Parenting, like golf, can never be mastered. It is an ever-changing and evolving medium that requires adaptable skills. You can always learn something new so it's best to watch and listen to other parents who have similar parenting styles and philosophies. Ask for advice and most are more than willing to answer your questions. Will you get unsolicited advice? Absolutely and you can take it or leave it. It's not unusual for me to receive unsolicited advice from people who don't have kids or their kids are in their 30s. Consider the source. 4. Be prepared. This might seem like a no-brainer but have all the essential items to cover most emergencies. A well-equipped diaper bag can help you eliminate stressful situations that fall under the "not-if-but-when" category. What’s my top emergency for which to be prepared? Hands down, “The Blowout.” Just make certain you have more than enough diapers and wipes. A couple of plastic groceries bags can be helpful in order to isolate soiled clothes. Also, make sure you have plenty of snacks, bottles/sippy cups, hand sanitizer, etc. It’s amazing how food can be such an effective distraction. My wife likes to bribe our offspring with lollipops in order to maintain her sanity during times of extreme stress. I rarely resort to such tactics as I have developed “The Look,” which is also quite nice to have in one’s arsenal. My father-in-law once gave me “The Look” and I haven’t quite been the same ever since. Mind you, The Look is not effective with babies and really small children as they are not at all impacted by your evil eye. Nevertheless, do as you see fit. 5. Kids cry. That's right. Kids cry. Many have also become quite handy with the Fake Cry, an offshoot of its annoying cousin, Constant Whine. An experienced parent can quickly differentiate between the two in a way non-parents simply cannot. Some children genuinely cry a lot (those who have survived a baby with colic can attest here) and when they do, it can be unnerving when all efforts to placate the apoplectic child are unsuccessful. Don't fret and don't get frustrated. Just do your best and remember everyone has been there before. It does not indicate your failure as a father (a meth addiction would do so but not a crying child). This happened to me once when at the bowling alley, my daughter fell and hit her head on a fiberglass bowling ramp. I fetched some ice and was applying it to the injury, which only made her more upset. I knew she needed the ice but she was making quite a fuss. A woman came over to offer her assistance. Sometimes people, and for me it's been exclusively women, who offer help or advice. Some are sincere in helping and others do so because they probably think you don't know what the hell you're doing. It's a case-by-case issue so respond accordingly. In this case, I felt the woman was genuinely trying to help so I politely declined. 6. Have fun. This is perhaps the most important piece of advice I have to share and it's one I need to remind myself of from time to time. Above all else, remember that spending time with your kids should be fun. Instead of going to an office, you get to go to the zoo or a museum or a baseball game. Yea, there are trade-offs that aren't so fun, like changing diapers or sporting the Seattle grunge look 24/7 but for the most part, spending quality time with your kids is fun and should be so. Remember that this time is as fleeting as it is precious. Before you know it, all those requests for playing games and doing things together will be made by you. Remember, Harry Chapin’s melancholic little ditty “Cats In The Cradle”? But in the same way, it's also important to make and take some time out for yourself. No, I'm not talking bubble baths and mani/pedis (unless you're into that sort of thing, in which case you probably need not the advice offered in this post). I'm talking about doing something you like to do: read, watch TV, catch up on our fantasy football stats, whatever it is, do it. Why? Because kids can be very demanding and if you don't take time out to recharge your batteries, you'll soon lose all energy and motivation. So don't feel guilty for taking time for yourself; in reality, you're actually doing your kids a favor. This list is far from a complete one and I know there are many stay-at-home dads and parents who have their own pearls of wisdom to share. Please feel free to add to the discussion in the "comments" section to this post. Also, stay tuned for my follow up post that includes advice for moms who often encounter SAHDs.
|
Shaken Baby Syndrome Hits Close to Home
|
Posted
by steelydad at
10/6/2009 9:42 PM PDT
|
I have a favor to ask of you. Yes, I’m aware that it’s rather presumptuous of me to make any requests in light of my prolonged absence, but a favor I ask of you nonetheless.
You might be saying to yourself, “You schmuck! You abandon us, your faithful and loyal readers, for weeks on end and now you want to ask a favor? You’re a stay-at-home dad for cying out loud! You should have time to write a stupid blog at least once a week!” and you’re right. All I can say is mea culpa. For whatever reason, the inspiration hasn’t been there as of late and I don’t want to offend your fertile minds by simply writing drivel that’s worse than the usual drivel you’ve come to expect from Steely Dad. Yea, doing so might help with SEO and page ranks but I think it’s safe to say those elements hardly provide me motivation.
The favor I’d like to ask of you is to stop reading this post right now. WAIT! Before you do, because I know just how happy you are to oblige, please follow these very important instructions: GO HUG YOUR KID(S). I mean REALLY hug them. Tell them how much you love them, how special they are to you. No, don’t lie. I want you to hug them and kiss them and hold them tight and let all that love in your heart spill forth. Don’t be afraid; you can’t spoil a kid with love. For those of us parents with younger kids, we don’t appreciate the brevity of these early years. Parents with older children are often cursed with the wisdom that kids just grow up way too quickly. Never again squander another opportunity to let your kids know how much you love and adore them.
I know this would be the message of Sophie and Tyler Crew, dear friends of the Steely Family, if they could speak to you right now. I know they would love nothing more than to be able to hug their beautiful baby girl, 13-month old Emma, right this very moment. I know they would do anything to be able to hold her, to touch her, to smell her sweet and familiar scent that only they recognize. I know they would do anything to be able to hear Emma’s silly giggle and to tickle her to hear it over and over again. Even big sister Ava would love to share her toys with Emma. But they cannot, at least not right now, for their precious little Emma is in a crucial fight for her fragile life after being victimized in what doctors have described as a Shaken Baby Syndrome incident.
Sophie and Tyler are living a parent’s worst nightmare. Sometime after dropping off Emma at daycare, they received a call from the facility that something happened to Emma. At that seminal moment, at that singular second in time, their comfortable world was eternally shattered. And even if all prayers are answered, even if the miracle of all miracles happens, nothing for the Crew Family will ever be the same again, not EVER.
After hearing this tragic story, I wondered how anyone could do something like this to a little baby, an innocent child who is not able to defend itself . How could someone turn into such a monster? It seems unfathomable, unimaginable and demonic. And you know what, it is all of these things but apparently it doesn’t take much to turn into such a monster. A brief yet uncontrollable fit of anger coupled with several violent shakes in a few seconds is all it takes to steal the life of a child. According to the National Center on Shaken Baby Syndrome, an estimated 1,200 to 1,400 children in the United States are injured or killed by being shaken each year.
No gun, no blunt instrument, no poison was used. In fact, the person probably started off with good intentions of trying to comfort a crying child. But when nothing they tried worked, the person transformed from caregiver to monster. Hands and an inability to control impulses and the law of physics that would leave adults unscathed but literally shakes the breath out of those much smaller than us were the only weapons used in this case. We’ve all been frustrated with our kids, when they don’t listen, when they cry incessantly and inconsolably for unending hours, and we’ve wished it to go away, quickly, so we can get back to sleep, get back to work or get back to whatever it was we were doing. The only thing the Crew Family wants to get back to is a normal life.
Sophie and Tyler sit vigil by Emma’s side, where they have remained since this nightmare took on a momentum that far exceeds their tolerance. Three hundred and sixty hours have passed since the last time they saw their happy, healthy Emma. Think of all the hugs they would’ve shared had it not been for a person’s, a stranger’s, rage.
Mom and Dad, sitting on either side of Emma, read her favorite books, sing her favorite songs, looking, waiting, wishing, hoping for anything that resembles life. A sign, a twitch, a movement, a response, a sound, anything. How do you hold on to hope when doctors say to let go of it? How do you manage expectations when doctors tell you not to have any? I don’t know how but I do know that Sophie and Tyler and Ava have not given up on Emma, have not lost hope and have not abandoned expectations. Emma knows this too, and she can feel the love and support and she hears our prayers and she has responded by moving one of her arms and one of her legs. She has opened her eyes. These are small but meaningful signs that nuture the seed of hope. Remember, all mighty oaks start out as tiny acorns. Let me tell you, this little girl has more fight in her than any, save her family, knew she had in her heart. She’s not giving up and she wants to let us know not to give up on her, that she’s going to keep on fighting.
Emma doesn’t understand what losing this fight would mean to her parents, to her sister, to her grandparents. She doesn’t know the grief that would descend upon an entire community of people who love and adore her. Yet out of nothing more than sheer life instinct, the genetic code that resolves us to take another breath when doing so presents greater challenge than not taking one, this little girl fights on.
It’s easy to think something like this will never happen to us and when we don’t personally know the people struggling with a tragedy such as this, it’s even easier to take comfort in the emotional distance that frees us from any reminder of the grief being experienced by those hit hardest. But don’t forget; instead, think of little Emma struggling for the very existence we take for granted.
I’d like to make one last request. I am asking for everyone reading this story to pray for little Emma Crew. Organize prayer services at your church, synagogue or other place of worship. If you’re not comfortable with prayer, then please send your positive thoughts Emma’s way. If praying is fine and dandy but you feel moved to do something more “tangible” the family would be most grateful for any financial contributions. Obviously, both Sophie and Tyler have taken an indefinite leave of absence from their respective jobs (Sophie is a school teacher and Tyler works in construction) since Emma’s hospitalization. I know we’d all like to lessen the burden that was thrust upon this family by minimizing financial stresses in order that they may focus their energies on little baby Emma. Donations, in any amount, can be made at the Crew Family blog by clicking on the Donate button. I hope you will contribute out of a desire, rather than an obligation, to help.
If you’re a blogger, have a Facebook, Twitter or any other social media account, please feel free to post this wherever compassionate eyes may read it.
Thanking you in advance,
Todd (AKA Steely Dad)
|
Carnivals and Disney On Ice: A Steely Son Interview
|
Posted
by steelydad at
9/18/2009 9:42 PM PDT
|
This past week was a busy, but fun, one for the Steely Family. We went to the local carnival (for three days) and to keep the good times a-rollin’ we also threw in a Disney On Ice show for good measure. I realize this might give the false impression that being a stay-at-home dad (SAHD) is all fun and games, but really, being a stay-at-home dad can be tough work. No, really, it can be. However, to be perfectly honest, when Steely Wife joins us, as she did for these events, I feel more like an unemployed dad than a SAHD.
I was struck with the most intense wave of nostalgia at the carnival. It seemed to me that all of the sparkly-cars-go-in-a-circle rides as well as the spinning-until-you-puke rides that I took my son on were the EXACT same rides that I rode when I was his age. No, I don’t mean similar; I mean the exact SAME! In fact, all of the toothless operators possessed an odd quality of reminiscence about them as well. I was my son’s age, eh hem, more than 30 years ago but could it be that these are, in fact, the same people and the same rides? I thought, perhaps, that dental photographs could corroborate my hypothesis but for some reason the “gentleman” operating the bumper cars took exception when I tried to photograph a close-up of his chompers. These carnival people can be quite testy.
Disney On Ice was, in a word, amazing. This was my second Disney show and it has yet to disappoint. Seriously, if you have not been, you should go. Your kids will think you’re a hero and you’ll find yourself cheering on all the famous characters who are doing stunts like back flips on ice skates and in full costume. The best part? As far as I could see, all of the performers had complete sets of teeth.
Since I’ve regaled you with my stories and rants for all these months, I thought it would be a fun experiment to turn over the Steely Dad Nation to the rightful heir, Steely Son, for his take on the carnival, the Disney On Ice show and anything else that pops into his head.
Here’s the exclusive interview:
Steely Dad: Thank you for agreeing to this interview.
Steely Son: OK
Steely Dad: So, did you like the carnival?
Steely Son: (In robot cadence) Yes-I-did-like-the-carnival.
Steely Dad: What did you like most about the carnival?
Steely Son: Ummm, the Ferris wheel.
Steely Dad: Why?
Steely Son: Because, um (dramatic pause – unintelligible response).
Steely Dad: What?
Steely Son: (Sounding frustrated) BECAUSE, IT WENT UP AND DOWN!
Steely Dad: OK, chill dude. What other things did you like at the carnival?
Steely Son: Um, um, the MOTORCYCLES!
Steely Dad: Sweet. Anything else?
Steely Son: Um, eh, YEA! I liked the airplanes too!
Steely Dad: Nice. Anything else you want to tell us about the carnival?
Steely Son: Yea, the scary ghost ride!
Steely Dad: That wasn’t that scary.
Steely Son: Yea, it was! (Laughing)
Steely Dad: What was so scary about it?
Steely Son: Because the skeletons were popping out!
Steely Dad: Was Daddy scared?
Steely Son: Yes!
Steely Dad: No I wasn’t!
Steely Son: Yea, you were! Did you like it?
Steely Dad: Hey, I’m conducting the interview here.
Steely Son: No, I’m comucting the interview here.
Steely Dad: OK, moving on. How did you like the Disney On Ice show?
Steely Son: Good!
Steely Dad: What was your favorite part?
Steely Son: I don’t know.
Steely Dad: You did go to the show, right?
Steely Son: Yes.
Steely Dad: Then can’t you tell me your favorite part?
Steely Son: No.
Steely Dad: Why not?
Steely Son: Fine. Finding Nemo was my favorite.
Steely Dad: Hold on. I can’t type that fast.
Steely Son: FIIIINNNNDDDDING NEEEEEEEEEEMMMMMMMMOOOOOOOO.
Steely Dad: What else?
Steely Son: Nothing. I just liked Nemo.
Steely Dad: (Laughing)
Steely Son: What, Daddy, what?!?!
Steely Dad: OK, let’s be professional here.
Steely Son: What’s promessional here? Oy vey!
Steely Dad: So you didn’t like anything else about Disney? Come on. There must have been something else you liked.
Steely Son: I just liked Finding Nemo.
Steely Dad: You didn’t like anything else?
Steely Son: NOTHING. I liked NOTHING else (waving his hands back and forth like an umpire signalling “Safe!”)
Steely Dad: You didn’t like Goofy?
Steely Son: Yes. I liked Goofy and Mickey Mouse.
Steely Dad: (Typing as fast as he can.)
Steely Son: Did you get that Daddy? I also liked Mickey Mouse.
Steely Dad: Hold on!
Steely Son: Daddy, what are you doing?
Steely Dad: Typing.
Steely Son: Oh, and I also liked the pirates.
Steely Dad: What pirates?
Steely Son: The Pirates ON THE Caribbean.
Steely Dad: When were those in the show?
Steely Son: When in the show? Huh? When in the show?
Steely Dad: The pirates? When were they in the show? I don’t recall pirates.
Steely Son: Do you like them?
Steely Dad: Sure I do but I don’t remember them in the Disney On Ice show.
Steely Son: I remember.
Steely Dad: When?
Steely Son: Or maybe not.
Steely Dad: OK, final question.
Steely Son: Which final quesiton? What’s a final question?
Steely Dad: This final question. It’s the last question. OK here goes: who do you love more, Mommy or Daddy?
Steely Son: Goofy
Steely Dad: He doesn’t count. So who do you love more? Mommy or Daddy?
Steely Son: Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!!!
Steely Dad: OK, that concludes our interview.
Steely Son: (Big smile) OK!
|
Back to Homeschool
|
Posted
by steelydad at
9/10/2009 9:42 PM PDT
|
Being that my son was expected to enter preschool this fall, my wife and I had to make the big decision as to which school would be his first. So which school did we end up enrolling him in? It’s a fantastic facility called the “Steely Dad Homeschool.”
Confused?
We have decided to homeschool our kids. It was by no means a decision we arrived at easily as we researched extensively, having attended both homeschooling seminars and preschool open houses. We weighed pros and cons. Both options have their benefits and shortcomings, to be sure, but in the end, and for a variety of reasons, homeschooling made sense…to us.
Was that the sound of the sky falling?
Just so you don’t attempt to reconcile this non sequitur by relying on the vast and fruitful tapestry of homeschooling stereotypes, here are some facts to consider: my wife and I are not “bible thumpers” (in fact, being Jewish, we’re not Torah thumpers either); my wife does not wear a really long skirt and she’s not always pregnant; I don’t wear a wide-brimmed black hat or suspenders; we’re both world travelers and university-educated; we don’t have a litter of kids and the ones we do have don’t go around in bare feet; we don’t live on a farm; and we both went to public schools (my wife having the distinct privilege of attending the very same “amazing” schools we’ve decided to forgo).
I’ve discussed homeschooling since the topic of preschool started cropping up with other parents and, most frequently, in the Den of Yentas. (As new readers to my ModernMom blog, you have not yet had the opportunity to become acquainted with my favorite group of free-speaking moms. If you’d like to get a better understanding of the Den of Yentas, you can read this post.
The moment I first walked into the Den, the yentas were hammering me about which preschool I planned to enroll my kids. When I answered honestly (and in retrospect, mistakenly) that I was considering homeschooling, it literally launched a local war. Since revealing my dirty little secret, I’ve been yelled at, criticized and ridiculed. I became a pariah of the community. This vitriolic response continues to this day.
Why is it that parents who don’t homeschool get so off-the-chart offended when you tell them that you homeschool? Better yet, why do they believe they know what’s best for your kids as well as feel compelled and entitled to share with you that fact?
Oh, I failed to mention the supreme irony in all of this: oddly enough, most of these critics of my school choice would be staunchly supportive of me if I were a woman exercising a choice of a different matter entirely. You see, I live in a community that touts itself as very “liberal,” open-minded and accepting of different people and opinions. This privilege of acceptance, however, seems to extend exclusively to those who never leave the reservation. So long as you do everything that everyone else is doing, then you’re granted safe passage.
But get out of line and, well, you get the picture.
Let me share with you some of the more “educated” criticisms I’ve heard:
Yenta #1: (Sarcastic tone) Why would you home school for preschool when all they’re doing is playing?
Steely Dad: Why would you pay $1,200 a month if they’re only playing? Can’t you play at a park for free?
Yenta #2: Your kids are too smart and show too much promise. We’re not going to let you ruin them. (The Den erupted into laughter.)
Steely Dad: (I just shook my head incredulously that supposedly “educated” people could be so stupid.)
Yenta #3: Don’t you want your kids to be socialized?
Steely Dad: Of course. It’s just that I believe my kids deserve to be socialized by people who are actually socialized. Ever read Lord of the Flies?
Yenta #4: That’s stupid.
Steely Dad: Any chance you were traditionally educated? Because, seriously, you’re exceptionally articulate.
Yenta #4: (Expletives!)
Yenta #1: I could understand homeschooling if the schools here sucked but these are some of the best schools ANYWHERE! People move to this area and pay the insultingly-high taxes
just for the schools.
Steely Dad: Why are these schools so great?
Yenta #1: They have some of the highest test scores in the nation.
Steely Dad: And high test scores are a sign of a good education? Ever wonder why the test scores are so high?
Yenta #1: Huh?
Steely Dad: Never mind. If there are no further questions…
Do I labor under the illusion that homeschooling will be easy? No. But rarely in my life have I found the easy road to be the right road. All I can tell you is that we feel homeschooling is best for our kids at this particular stage in their lives. As we embark on this very exciting adventure, we will continue to monitor and evaluate and if we should decide that we need to change directions, it will be our choice to make.
So, to those parents who choose not to homeschool and think anyone who does is a moron: look, I homeschool; you don’t. However, unlike you, I could care less how you decide to educate your kids for I respect your right to choose. Why do you care how I decide to educate my kids? I realize your concern comes from a place of altruism, that you truly care about the welfare of my kids, apparently more so than I do, but please, don’t worry. We’re going to be just fine.
|
Why I Became a Stay-At-Home Dad
|
Posted
by steelydad at
8/26/2009 9:42 PM PDT
|
Although I’ve been writing my own blog for about six months now, this is my very first post for ModernMom. I’m very honored and privileged to have the opportunity to write for MM and hope you will read my posts on a regular basis. Feel free to leave comments and feedback as that’s how great discussions take place.
If you’ve ever visited my blog, a place I affectionately call the Steely Dad Nation (www.steelydad.com), you know that I’ve written many stories on my personal experiences as a stay-at-home dad (SAHD) but for whatever reason I’ve never actually explained why I decided to become a full-time SAHD. Since this is my first post with MM, I felt it appropriate to provide a bit of background so you can get to know me better. I promise not to always write “serious” stuff in future posts. Even a cursory look at my site will reveal that I’m not a serious kind of guy.
SAHDs are becoming a force with which to be reckoned. No, we’re not as ubiquitous as our stay-at-home mom (SAHM) counterparts but nonetheless we are growing and expanding (and not just with regard to our waist line). We have blogs and support groups, and yes, we even have our own conventions. The lobby that represents us is in the making and it won’t be long before we have our own talk-show. Watch out, Oprah!
Dudes become SAHDs for a variety of reasons. Some become SAHDs as a result of circumstances (perhaps they lost their job) or because they realize that going to work just to pay for daycare doesn’t make financial sense. Others, and I put myself in this category, make a conscious decision to become SAHDs for no other reason than they wish to have a closer relationship with their children. For me, I wanted to be an integral part of raising my kids.
Being a SAHD doesn’t make me a better dad than the guy who works 60 hours a week in order to provide for his children nor does it make me any less of a dad; it only indicates that our priorities are different. Although my early ideal of what it meant to be a good dad was more consistent with the “traditional” role of financial provider, that philosophy experienced a seismic shift. In order to understand my desire to be a SAHD one must understand my background.
When I was younger, I always envisioned myself as the next Trump. I’m sure most of my classmates and early friends would be surprised to find out that I’m not the CEO of a Fortune 500 company and downright shocked to find out I’m a SAHD. To be sure, I was on that professional path but after 9/11, I traded in the suit and tie for frayed jeans and a smock. With my then-girlfriend-now-wife, we opened a ceramics studio and taught kids how to make cool stuff out of clay.
That was the beginning of my transformation.
My childhood is a convoluted story that perhaps I’ll share someday but for now understand that my parents separated when I was eight and divorced when I was 12 years old. After remarrying, my mother moved to the East Coast and I lived with a father who was neglectful and essentially absent. He cared about his girlfriend and her kids more than he did his own son. I grew up with very little parental guidance and this painful experience perhaps jaded me as I never envisioned myself a daddy. “Why would I want to put a kid through something like this,” I always asked myself. It was a question whose answer was not conducive to fatherhood.
More than anything, I had an unabated fear that, should I become a dad, I would turn out to be the same type of dad as my father. You know the old saying, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. These powerful demons often haunted me and challenged my paternal instincts. I resolved that I’d rather not be a dad at all than be that kind of dad. I just wasn’t confident that I had what it took to be a good dad, to be selfless, supportive, understanding, unconditionally loving, strong and sensitive. Unfortunately, fatherhood is not a toe-dipping experience: you have to jump in with both feet and I wasn’t sure I was ready to take that leap of faith.
Through therapy and the support of a loving wife and wonderful in-laws, I was able to take control of my fears by acknowledging and accepting my childhood, adolescent and young adult experiences. I began to realize that my unchartered path of fatherhood stood ready for ME to blaze, that the biological influence was only as great as I allowed it to be.
So when my son was born, I wanted to be the absolute best daddy that I could be. It had been a mantra of mine that, should I become a dad, I would want to provide for my kids everything I didn’t have. Early on this meant a big house, fancy cars, new clothes, ski trips, motorcycles, all the things that my friends had growing up. I think most dads feel similarly. However, those “things” I wanted to provide took on a different hue. No longer was I committed to providing material possessions for my kids. It seemed to me I had little control over how much stuff I could provide my kids (a capricious boss could simply decide to fire me one day or the economy could tank, for example) but I did have control over how much support, love, affection, time and stability I provided my kids. I felt that I brought him (and subsequently my daughter) into the world and therefore I had an obligation to guide them through it to the best of my ability. For me, that meant being a SAHD.
So, there you have it, my story of becoming a SAHD. You probably assume I think I’m the best dad in the world, that I’m something special because I’m a SAHD. Far from it. But if my kids think so then that’s all that truly matters.
|
|
|