Talk about Deceptive Advertising...

As I stood in line anxiously waiting to pay for my groceries(I just love paying for groceries), I noticed the cutest little baby in the next aisle over. She was around eight months old with curly hair and big, beautiful, green eyes(I guess all babies have big eyes until their faces catch up). Two females in their late teens stood behind the girl and her mother.  They were enjoying the waves and laughter they got from this adorable child.  I smiled watching how animated she was when the two girls talked to her, and made her wiggle and thrash around in the shopping cart.  I enjoyed the show for a minute when suddenly it hit me, "Wow, if that's not deceptive advertising!"  If you saw a child like this and had no children of your own, then you might crave one.  I actually wished mine could be babies again, but just for a moment. 
     I remembered that they are only that sweet for a short time before human nature kicks in.  This innocent, smiling angel is going to be saying no and pushing her food onto the floor very soon, if not already.  She'll be hitting her older brother with a doll or other toy also(wham, right in the back of the head).  I knew all of this, but even I still wanted to hold her and make her laugh.  I guess there is a paternal instinct.  Once you have your own, you try to protect all children from danger(except for the ones who are hitting yours).  I wanted to tell those girls not to rush into having babies yet(it was obvious they didn't because not only were they shopping with a friend, but they only had the little baskets that you carry).  I wanted to tell them to have all of the fun and get all of the sleep they could now before it's too late.
     Don't get me wrong.  I love my young'uns(southern slang for young ones) like I have never loved anything, but they are only smaller versions of us.  Which means they have the potential to do anything wrong that you have ever seen, read about, or heard of.  Growing up nice is not a natural progression(see lord of the flies). It's up to us to make sure that they mature into caring, considerate adults.  Seeing a little baby is about as accurate as looking at a wallet-size picture of a tornado.  It's small and sweet looking with no clue as to its true destructive force.

Crime and Punishment, SAHD but True...

One of the hardest things to do is to treat all of my children fairly.  That may sound crazy, but it's true.  I had written the word equally instead of fairly at first, then changed it.  Equally would imply that I should ask my baby girl(she's six) to help me move some furniture, or cradle my 110 lb. oldest son in my arms(not going to happen).  I couldn't possible treat all of my children exactly the same because they are not the same; in size, disposition, or educational level.  The only area that they are completely equal in is how much I love them.  However, I can treat them fairly. It seems strange to punish my six-year-old daughter for hitting one of her big brothers when I know she didn't really hurt him, but I must.  It's the behavior, not the result.  If my ten-year-old says a cuss word and nobody hears it, does it still make a noise?  Yes, and it ticks me off, too!
     I don't punish my children to hurt them or to let them know who's boss(they know until they can cook their favorite meals who the boss is!).  Their punishments help them learn to self-edit themselves(redundant) and to do the right thing the first time.  I won't always be there.  It's important for them to learn that they suffer from their bad behavior just as much as the person they injure, either physically or verbally.  They know that people don't like to be around a real meanie.  Neither grown-ups nor children.  I'm just making sure my kids aren't the meanies in question.
     My children do get spankings from me, just not that often.  I'm not really the enforcer type(more of the psychologist/male model type).  I do limit the physical punishment to their physical crimes.  Most verbal aggravation and general smart-mouthiness gets them sent to their rooms or the removal of something that they are really into at that moment, i.e. TV, the computer, art supplies, or a favorite toy.  Hitting or pushing is a different story.  Those episodes are so rare, though(thankfully).  When I come into the room after they've had a physical confrontation, I get every one's story.  Usually, it only takes a second to know who's to blame.  If my question is why did you hit him/her and the answer is, "I don't know", then that's the one!  I do take self-defense as an excuse, but not much of one.   If you watch professional sports, then you know that the person who throws the second punch always gets in trouble too, sometimes more if nobody saw the first guy do it.
     I always send them to their rooms before a spanking(the waiting is also an agonizing form of punishment for a child), and I go somewhere and cool down for a few minutes so I don't spank them because I'm angry.  That is an absolute parenting no-no.  After their discipline, I hug them, tell them I love them, and tell them if they do it again they will get the same thing.  I let them know that I didn't spank them because I was mad at them, but because they had to learn that you can't go through life trying to exert physical control over people.  Individuals who try to dominate others through threats of violence don't make it too well in the real world.  Those guys always get theirs in the end(pun intended).

Melancholy and the Infinite SAHDness

You have no one to blame but yourself.  I've said this to my kids a lot (not a million times, but possibly into the hundreds).  My oldest son touched the iron after I told him ten times it was hot like the oven, and just seconds after I turned around to get my wrinkled shirt.  He was seven and just had to confirm that I wasn't lying to him.  At the ripe old age of ten, he believes me a lot more often these days.  He is still the skeptic, though.  The best response I get from him now is, "Hmmm, you might be right."  I'll take what I can get if it keeps him from getting hurt too bad.  It's amazing how your child's pain wounds you.  That's something they don't tell you in any childcare class.
     I've worked many different jobs in my life.  Some I was very good at and some where I was terrible.  Luckily, I am very good at this one.  It's easy to work hard when you love your customers as if they're your wife and children.  Even easier when you find the outside world to be monotonous and depressing.  This world I've created inside my home can be repetitive with all of the dishes, laundry, meals, and maintenance work that has to be done everyday, but it is never boring(extremely tiring, yes!).  My kids constantly surprise me with new ideas and new perspectives on things I haven't revisited in years.
     The depressing part is a little different animal.  That comes more from inside a person, rather than outside stimuli.  You are usually who you are whether things are going great or terrible.  You have no one to blame but yourself. Those words are much easier to say than to hear, especially coming from yourself.  I say that to myself when I am feeling low and alone(which isn't often), but the only real sad part of being a SAHD(sorry for the bad pun) is when I let myself believe that I have sacrificed my own goals and dreams for my children's future. It is simply not true.  My hobbies include playing music, writing, and performing stand-up comedy(although I haven't done stand-up in many years, I still write jokes hoping to one day get back up on stage).  These things I can still do, but exhaustion and laziness combine into a powerful deterrent when you are already prone not to believe in yourself.  NOT ANYMORE! 
     I give everything I have to the ones I love, and that is why I have given nothing to myself in ages.  This blog is the first step to being nice to me.  If I can get back in the habit of writing everyday, then maybe I will finish one of the two novels I have started, or some of the countless short stories that I dust off every week on the bookshelf(OK, not every week, but sometimes).  This will be my third post and I feel lighter already.  My wife and kids are my lifeblood(copyright infringement?), and they treat me like a king.  Maybe I do deserve it...

The Method to my SAHDness...

OK, here's the deal.  My wife gave birth to our last child, a beautiful little girl(who would soon become a princess, even though I have no royal bloodlines), and we realized that having three kids was not just one more than having two.  They suddenly outnumbered us!  We went from raising two kids to running a daycare center.  Our last tiny bit of free time and relaxation not only disappeared, but was kidnapped, tied up in a burlap sack, and tossed into the Mississippi River(Sorry, my grandmother was from Sicily, so these analogies come very naturally to me).  We noticed that the house was not being cleaned as often or as thoroughly as it had been.  Dinners were prepared quicker and less healthy than we liked.  We needed a plan.  Our first thought was to hire outside help.  We brainstormed about the ideal scenario.  A maid to come in weekly, a part-time babysitter, a personal chef to prepare some of our meals, and a lawn guy in the Summer.  Then, reality set in.  Perfection would be way too expensive.  We would both have to work more to have all of these things. 
     It seemed strange that my wife and I would have to spend more time away from our kids for them to have a so-called "better" life.  I hated that idea.  My dad was barely around while I was a kid, and my mother was busy working as a single mom with three mouths to feed.  I wonder how many other SAHDs didn't have their parents around much when they were growing up?  Maybe that's why we have the patience to listen to our children's constant chatter when other men need to go out for a drink with friends.  Maybe we remember wishing our dads would just listen to what we had to say ...ever.  Anyway, when we finally did all of the math, we realized that it would be more cost-effective for me to stay home and take care of things for a while until the kids got a little older.
     Enough for now.  It would be stupid for me to ignore my kids because I'm writing about being a SAHD.  Like it or not, we are both each others boss at different times, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

First Things First...

Although it takes guts, there is certainly no glory in being a stay-at-home dad!  At least stay-at-home moms get the respect and admiration of their female peers.  Women know what it means to stay home and care for your house and family.  Not so for us guys.  Most of my friends want to know when I'm going back to real work.  I tell them I used to work five days a week, eight hours a day, but now I work seven days a week, sixteen hours a day, and I'm on call the other eight hours a day!  Plus, at home, I get to say interesting things like, "Please don't stick another piece of cheese on the TV screen." and "If you lick that toilet you will be punished." 
     I have been a SAHD(stay-at-home dad, abbreviated for everyone's convenience)for five years now, with three kids, and I created this blog to vent about the monotony of doing the same job over and over again ad nauseam (are you listening dirty clothes?).  I still do all of the things considered to be "man's work" also.  Things like taking out the garbage, repairing everything that breaks(trust me, everything breaks, usually more than once), lifting all heavy objects and playing referee to the kids. The hardest time is the Summer when I have all of the outside chores to do as well.
     My wife is great!  She knows I am working from the time I wake up until ????.  She tries to take the pressure off of me by sharing in the cooking and cleaning, but when she does a chore that I had planned to do, she thinks I should sit down and relax.  I just move down the list to the next job.  I think that's part of the stress of being a stay-at-home parent, male or female.  You never leave your job.  My wife enjoys her days off, even if she does do some work around the house.  She doesn't feel the urgency that I do to keep everything in order.  When I look around the house, I don't see the things I've just cleaned, I see all of the things that are waiting for my attention.  It's hard to relax when there are stray Lego's on the floor(dangerous, too, if you walk around barefoot).  I first became a SAHD so the kids would always have someone at home to be there for them and I haven't even talked about that yet!  This is my first post, and I approve this message.