I wonder if we’ve done the right thing.  I also wonder, though, if practically-speaking, we had a plausible practical alternative.  I’ve been a full-time at-home dad for almost 5 years. With me caring for our son during the day, it seems things have gone well. Overall, on the surface, our son seems bright, normally developed and happy.

Ever since my wife went back to work after her maternity leave (5 years ago), she has known she really wants to be the one to stay home.  It was hardest those first few months, but the feelings and preferences are still there in the back of her mind.  Her situation is, in many ways very advantageous for a working parent.  She works full-time but rarely long hours.  We live close to work, so she sees our son and I before work, at lunch, and all evening and on weekends.  Nevertheless, I feel pretty strongly that she would be healthier and happier as the stay-home parent.

What about my son? Although he’s smart and happy, he has some “benign” but strange emotional behaviors at times.  (I mentioned one of these in two previous DadBloggers posts: “ ... second” & “… wallpaper”.) With some exceptions, he has had a strong preference for my wife, especially when it comes to needing comfort, and how he wants to spend his time when we’re both with him.  At times he is quite clingy with his mom.  Is it because we’ve deprived him of his true need, his truly natural arrangement — having his mother be his primary caregiver?

In a way, I can’t believe I’m asking that.  I used to be very solidly pro-feminist, a liberal open to any family arrangement that “works.” Later, that openness was constrained by the stricter imperative that, if affordable, one parent should care for their child (at least half time) in place of day care.  But now I’m wondering if the imperative should be that ideally “the mother” should stay at home if at all financially possible — not because any traditional roles, but for the sake of the kid(s).

What would make me swing so far to the “traditional” side?  Many parents and other people I know would think I was irrationally compelled to the “mother is best” notion by some agenda or odd emotional state.  So many people we’ve met think it’s great that I’m a full-time dad.  They think it makes sense based on our situation or just think it’s refreshing and sweet to see a dad in that role.  A few older people have seemed puzzled — only one to the point of saying (not to my face), “Imagine!  A man taking care of a baby!”

The influences of traditionalism and the scant implied expectations of my faith (or other faiths) about the structure of families have little to do with my change.  It’s the experience of being with kids, being a husband, listening to my wife, watching my son, etc.  The other influence that I alluded to was my son’s behavior.

My experience has shown me that motherhood isn’t political or sociological; it’s biological and spiritual.  Mothers have the anatomies, the specialized brains and nervous systems, the resultant personalities, and the hormones to have unique bonds and potentially be the best caregivers to their children.  My developing opinion on this matter has room for exceptions, most significantly: individual differences.  I think I’ve met enough mothers to recognize that there are some mothers who don’t have those strong “motherly,” highly-child-focused personalities.  Whether it results from individuality, genetics, hormone levels or socialization, it is apparent.  In those cases, I could comfortably deem it at least a toss-up between mom and dad as the main parent.

But what about us?  My wife is a great mom; she has all those strong mothering instincts and priorities.  Were we obliged to make sure she was the stay-at-home parent?  Assuming my self-assessment would be biased, I’ll say that others claim I’m a very nurturing, kid-focused, engaged dad.  Even so, would our son be much better off if we had done it the “optimal” way (i.e., mom at home)?

As to my son’s behaviors, he seems to have some insecurity that has lingered and occasionally rears its heads.  He sometimes gets very upset when certain things don’t go just the way he expected.  Once in a while he gets quite needy for his mom even though I’m with him, or get unexpectedly compulsive about not “letting her go” when she has to go.  He has a few other apparent anxieties that are not obviously connected to our family arrangement.

The thing is that these issues could easily result from a dozen or more other factors.  Not least among these is our genetic heritage.  It’s free of genetic disease, but riddled with anxious and compulsive personalities (to say the least).  I can honestly say I don’t know whether our son would be any less or more anxious if my wife were the stay-at-home parent.  I am confident that he works through all his anxieties far better and faster than I did at his age (and, by her account, better than my wife did, as well).  We attribute this mainly to our way of parenting, which we share (regardless of who stays at home).

Of course, this is the “real world.” There were other factors that went into the decision to have me stay at home, mainly financial and how each of us cope with our jobs and manage our time.  So even had we been even more adamant that I should be the “breadwinner” so my wife could stay home, we probably still wouldn’t have chosen to do it.  We likely would have done the same, only been more conflicted, earlier.  I try (and usually succeed) not to let these daunting facts generate guilt about my own career choice, earning potential, and personality.  If only I were . . . , if only if I had . . . , then my son could have the full-time mommy he deserves.  No:  I have to stay away from those thoughts.

So I guess I’ve raised a lot of “issues,” but these thoughts do little in the way of changing what we do.  I like to think I’ve matured in my thinking.  My naïve politically correct view that, after birth and breastfeeding, moms and dads are interchangeable has been challenged.  And maybe, someday, my talking about it will help someone else think about what’s best for her or his kids.

Even though I’ve had the above-described doubts about our stay-at-home dad arrangement and its impact on my son,
I have no doubt whatever that we still have the best little boy in the world.  (Yeah, I know: Your child is the best.  That’s possible.  On a scale from one to ten, our son is an eleven . . . but then, so are your kids; am I right?)

My last post, I talked about our impending move.  We knew it was coming at some point...but not so much when it’d go down.  Well, we do now...I accepted an offer a week ago, and I’m excited.  Though it looks like it will be a 2 part move...in 2 weeks I’ll move, and start working.  The following weekend we’ll tackle Phase 2- the rest of our stuff and my wife and daughter. 

So shortly after I accepted the offer, while driving back down to Urbana, my head became a jumble of questions:  Will my wife find a decent part time job?  Will daycare work out ?  How much will said care giver cost?  What about my commute?  Should we spend the money and get movers?  Or just get some guys to load and unload the truck?  I could go on...but I think I’ve painted enough of the picture. 

In reality though, our next big “obstacle” is finding daycare for our daughter...near our home, in our budget, and that isn’t scary.  So between getting moving quotes, working, mapping out our neighborhood and pertinent locations, swiping every empty box I see at work, I’ve started googling and calling the daycare places near our new place.  And I think we found one...though we still need to visit and make sure it’s not a sweat shop or some crazy place where the kids get locked up in cages or something.  I’m sure the place will be fine- actually Pam went there when she was little...so I take that as a good sign.

I am glad Kaelyn is 2-1/2...I think that will help her in the long run with this move.  She’ll be leaving her friends from daycare, and her daycare person, who she’s been with since she was about 2-1/2 months old.  She may not even fully realize that we won’t see them anymore because we’re moving away.  Though I think she’ll really love Chicago and being near family.

Next month when I post we’ll hopefully be settled in Chicago, enjoying life.  See ya then!

Last Saturday, we had a big birthday party for the kids. It was a lot of work. I think we had over 30 kids and 20 adults and the party was seven hours long. I don’t know why we do it, but every year, we throw big birthday parties for our kids. My guess is that our kids would enjoy the party just as much if the party was smaller. Yet, we continue to give them big parties.

Neither I, nor my wife, had big birthday parties when we were kids. Same with my friends. Our parties were small and very simple. Most of the time, the party only involved a cake. Now as adults, my friends and I throw big parties for our kids. We have tons of food, plenty of games, and lots of prizes. What happened to the small parties we grew up with?

Sometimes I wonder if we throw big parties because that’s what we wanted as kids. Like we somehow missed out on a part of our childhood because our parents didn’t throw us big birthday parties. Or maybe we throw big parties out of guilt...because we can’t be the perfect parents we want to be. Then there’s the pressure of being like everyone else. You know what I mean, right? If everyone else has 20-30 kids at their birthday parties, then how will my kids feel if we only have five kids at their party? Obviously, how many people we invite have nothing to do with how much we love our kids...but sometimes it’s hard to explain that to young kids.

I really don’t know why my wife and I throw big parties for our kids. Maybe it’s a combination of the reasons I mentioned previously. Or maybe we are just insane. What about you? Do any of you throw big parties for your kids? Or do you keep it small and simple?

There is a certain level of happy that only a child can attain.  Any adult can win the lottery, and they wouldn’t be as happy as my youngest (hereafter known as Bam Bam) climbing a challenging ladder for the first time.

Before I became a Dad, I spent a lot of time figuring it out what it was going to be like.  I got a few things right.  The sleepless nights for 6 months.  The fear of them falling as they begin to walk.  The joy of seeing them play with their friends.  The anxiety when another kid pushes them around or calls them names.  The fear of losing them in a store.  I had a few things wrong (ok, maybe more than a few).

The one thing I didn’t really understand, and I don’t think I could have, is the pure joy they get every single day.  This morning, Bam Bam (my youngest’s new and permanent nickname) came down the stairs holding every stuffed animal he owned in his arms.  He yelled to us.  “Mommy Daddy look. My babies!” He set them on the couch and counted them individually, incredibly proud of his accomplishment.

Last night as they were getting baths, Bam Bam peed on the potty for maybe the 3rd time ever.  His big brother stopped what he was doing and told him how awesome it was.  Bam Bam was beaming with pride.  Everyone gave him a high five.  He could not have been smiling any bigger. 

I can tend to get stressed about work\career and commute and the daily routine.  I tend to lose perspective from time to time.  But the kids?  They never lose perspective.  That’s I think the biggest unexpected part of being Dad.  The kids really do teach you what’s important.

At nearly 18 months, our baby boy is starting to show signs that he’s ready to embark on the time-honored tradition of potty training. Besides being able to scream “pee pee” and bellow “pooooooo” during meal times, he has also started pointing to his diaper and says “dur-tee” when he wants to be changed. It’s definitely a welcomed sign that he’s just about ready since I can hardly wait to be relieved of my diaper changing doo-ties, so to speak. One time during a visit to the doctor’s office, my baby boy not only took out the doctor, my wife, and myself, but also soaked part of the examining room table, floor and his diaper bag in one fell swoop. I plan to spare everyone the details of what is now known as “the event”. But let’s just say that I was so traumatized by the aftermath of “the event” that I had to engage in some photographic self-psychotherapy to exorcise myself of the demons that haunted me forever more. To grossly borrow from the philosopher Frederick Nietzsche, “If you stare into the Abyss Diaper Genie long enough, the Abyss Diaper Genie stares back at you.” He also said “That which does not kill us, makes us stronger.” Only thing about old Freddy boy was that he was single and never a parent.

As much as I’d like my boy to be potty trained once and for all sooner rather than later, researching the subject has also proven to be a very daunting matter. Googling the term “potty training” returns more than a million results. On Amazon.com there are over 12,000 books alone, not to mention hundreds of gadgets to aid the potty training process. I had no idea that potty training was such a huge business. If you were looking for a book about let’s say the “Military-Industrial Complex”, Amazon.com would only bring up around 7,000 books. So in that sense the “Potty-Industrial Complex” is nearly twice as large! These potty training books range from thick scientific and intellectual tomes written by a cadre of MDs to the “Idiot’s Potty Training Guide for Dummies” or whatever the series is called. Then there are artsy books like the simply titled “Potty!” written and illustrated by international artist/musician/author/mom Mylo Freeman.  It’s definitely one of the more unique books on potty training I’ve ever seen. Her book has been translated into multiple languages and even has a puppet show based on the book. Yes, a potty puppet show.

When my wife brought it home from the library one day, I wasn’t quite sure what to think of it. On the front and back cover of the book are a bunch of illustrated animals including an elephant, giraffe, turtle, gorilla, zebra and others. The story starts with a small potty bowl smack dab in the middle of the jungle with a note that says “Only the best bottom of all will fit on this potty.” This potty is soon discovered by a variety of jungle animals each of whom believe that they have the best fitting bottom. What follows are various illustrations of each animal trying to sit down on the potty hoping they some how fit like Cinderella’s slipper. Ever see a giraffe try and squat on a potty? Or see a gorilla wear a potty as a hat? This book has that and more. Eventually a young boy shows up to claim his rightful place and triumphs over the animal kingdom by successfully sitting and fitting on the potty.

Sorry for giving away the ending of the book, but as anyone can see I’m definitely in need of some good advice. Care to share your stories and advice about potty training?