OUCH!

I just hung up with Carson’s pediatrician. I scheduled his next physical and that entails ouch for him followed by reward and ouch for our pocketbook.

Every parent reading this may not remember the last shot they received or the last one they subjected their child to. But most remember the kid’s first.

When Carson was a little over a week old, I took both him and the Princess into see the OBGYN for their respective follow up visits. I don’t remember much about her visit. But I sure as hell remember his.

It was Circ day. And I don’t mean Ringling Bros. There is nothing worse for a man to see his or his son’s jewels pricked with a needle. Perhaps that is where the vulgar reference to our manhood came from for all I know. What I do know is I had to hold him down while the Princess was administered to in the other room. There was nothing worse than watching my one week old trustingly look at me with playful eyes knowing what was about to happen.

At first he had no reaction to the anesthetic poke until he felt the medicine two seconds later. Talk about a future in acting. Those trusting eyes quickly went to disbelief to outright hurt. He went through the seven stages of grief in 5 seconds. Fortunately he doesn’t remember anything. I can’t forget it.

So now after 4 years of pricks, “boo boo dandaids,” and going out for pizza after a big cry, we arrive at the crossroads. We believe in immunization. Just like a hunter believes in his second amendment rights. Shoot ‘em for God sake. But remember it comes at a price.

Trust. Trust of doctors. Actually nurses because doctors wimp out and force the nurse to deliver the goods. Trust of daddy. Because I take him for those visits.

The other price is pizza. I now have to promise that we will go out for a treat after the dirty deed. So last month I brought up the subject of another doctor visit and ensuing shots. As I mentioned in my Match the Curves post about logic, I find that honesty and talking about it with Carson makes the whole process go better. Not that he is excited about this visit next month. But at least he now trusts me that I am telling him the truth. Yep. It’s gonna hurt. And it’s gonna hurt me as much as him. But that’s another story.

A Day in the Life

I am sure by now all of you want my gig. Who wouldn’t? I get to spend time writing, reading and generally goofing off.

It helps when your spouse makes a lot of money. But if you think it is all TV and internet games, you are mistaken. I know I was.

One of my near daily duties is shopping.

Women like shopping. Most men don’t. We like to buy. Shopping for me consists of finding a store that carries what I need. In our small Connecticut town, most stores are 20 minutes away in Norwalk. In Houston that amount of time meant a mile away in traffic. Here it means 15 miles. So I don’t take it lightly when I have to go shopping for the necessities of the house.
The Princess can make a whole day of shopping when precious time allows. She comes home with either a whole lot or very little. For her, and I assume most women, it is a fun day out. For me it is just another chore out during the day.

My other duties are getting Carson ready for daycare which means making him a nutritious lunch. For him, Crabby Patty Cheese Burgers is a food group. He has been eating the same thing for over a year. I don’t get it, but it makes him happy. White Castle has a customer for life. Perhaps a Harold and Kumar remake is in our son’s future!

My other 6 am duties include making the Princess’ coffee, breakfast and lunch. If you have been reading my other posts, you will know that her requirements are a little more particular than Carson’s.

By 11 am, I am usually home and ready to tackle other chores like lawn maintenance and laundry. Fortunately we really do have a killer stereo system and wireless router to keep me entertained. But after all of the chores are done, there is usually more chores.

Every now and then, I do get to play a game on the computer. And even less often, I catch up on a movie. Mostly it is simply chores. And after that, it is time to cook dinner and clean up after. Finally around 9 pm the day is done and we sit down as a family to watch a TV show like George Lopez.

Yes, we let our son stay up way too late. But that’s another story.

Marriage CPR: Dating the Babysitter

Role reversal is strange indeed. The Princess comes home tired from work, while I am bored from household chores. She wants to just sit down, be bored and have a good home cooked meal. And I want to go out.

If it wasn’t so expensive, and if it were up to me, we would go out every night. Not because my wishes win out, but because “good home cooked meal” means grill and microwave. I have tried to become a better cook, but most cookbooks are written for experienced cooks, not the typical SAHD. Well, at least not for this SAHD. Perhaps some of you can open up a cookbook and immediately understand the difference between a dash and a pinch and boiling and simmer.

Well, if you want to put a little simmer in your relationship, you sometimes have to convince the “boss,” I mean Princess that you would like to dash out for a bite or a movie because your libido is boiling. Let’s face it; we all need a break from the kid(s). It is just as important for the marriage as it is for the soul.

Since we are older parents, we long ago had our bar hopping fun and going out to eat all the time is not nearly as fun as watching Carson throw a tantrum (and his food) all over the house. But even we get the urge for a date night. Many of our friends have date night once a week or at least once a month. We are more like once a year. Every time we manage to find a sitter, we do go out and realize we enjoy each other’s company and have something to talk about besides Carson.

Dating your wife may sound strange, but it is better than just acting like an old married couple who never go out. My parents probably don't think of it as such, but they have at least one movie date a week. They are 48 years strong, so movie dates must really work, since
Mom is a golf widow the rest of the time.

Dating the babysitter is a little tougher to pull off. At least I have found it that way in Connecticut. We have not found any who are reliable and getting an open date for them to watch Carson is nearly impossible. You didn't think I meant what you thought did you?

The best sitters are relatives (free) of course. But we have also found that neighbors (hopefully free) and maids (not free) make for good sitters. Teenagers are another good source, although they aren’t free and they require a lot of pizza. In Texas, teens and maids were reasonable. In Connecticut, they start at $15 per hour for ones you barely trust on up to $18+ for those you hope you can trust.

Another suggestion we were given, is to share with one of your child’s school friend’s parents. One time you take their terrors, and the next time they take yours. This way the kids entertain each other (and the fools watching them), while you get a free night out on the town.

It is important to keep the flame alive. Not just for the SAHD’s sanity and libido, but for the Princess’ sanity and libido as well. And once the kid realizes you really are coming back, they relax and have a good time. Plus, they really do want you and your Princess to get along. After all, one day we will be empty nesters. We want to make sure we know what to do with each other once Carson is grown. But that’s another story.

Infant CPR

When Carson was 5 months old, the Princess stayed home to take an important business call. I passed by her while carrying Carson to change his diaper. Suddenly, he started shaking uncontrollably, while looking up at me from the changing table. I didn’t know what was wrong and screamed to the Princess. She immediately hung up and came in to see what was wrong. She instantly knew that he was choking, because he was turning blue, and began to perform infant CPR. Meanwhile, I was simply freaking out and helpless.

Fortunately for us, the Princess had just been to a company sponsored class on infant CPR. Carson had apparently burped, as babies do, and the spittle had lodged in his windpipe. The Princess turned him upside down and hit him hard on his back. She did this several times while firmly telling me to call 911. I called 911 and they sent an ambulance before I had even hung up with them. The Princess continued infant CPR, which included blowing into his nose and mouth when she was convinced he still wasn’t breathing. Fortunately that worked, but it is truly a last resort for an infant as it could just as easily kill them.

The emergency crew told us that he would have died before they arrived, which was only 10 minutes after I called, were it not for the Princess’s actions. Needless to say, I took the same class from the same instructor a few weeks later. Since that day, I have had to perform adult CPR/Heimlich on the Princess twice and infant CPR on Carson once. (Please note that you should not consider this article comprehensive on either procedure and that performing either procedure incorrectly may cause further harm to the victim. Please refer to professional pamphlets, articles or classes for the proper procedures for both types of CPR.)

The helpless look in Carson’s eyes, as he was literally choking to death in front of me, haunts me to this day. He has had to have stitches twice, while I watched him scream in fear and pain, but those moments, while brutally hard for a parent, pale in comparison to his (and our) near death experience.

I can’t stress enough how important it is for any stay at home parent to learn infant CPR, which is quite different than adult CPR. Parents should require it of their sitters for the occasional time that they go out and perform CPR on their marriage. But that’s another story.

TV vs. Daycare

(Both Worked for Me, Only One Did for the Princess)

When Carson was first born until he was 2 ½, he stayed home all day with me. Our day was filled with dirty diapers, lots of feedings, burping and changes of clothes … for me. I discovered that using a burp cloth is a good idea. It also requires more skill than accounting and recruiting. I only had to change clothes once a day in those gigs. I must have changed shirts at least twice on really bad days. You never realize just how bad food smells coming out of the human body until you have a baby. And it does nothing for Ralph Lauren. I ruined many good shirts with reused mommy milk and Gerber’s sweet potatoes baby food.

Anyway, I digress. As Carson was taking naps, I discovered the Game Channel with reruns of all my favorite shows from the 70’s like Match Game and Family Feud. And I discovered every poker show known to man. Carson knew what a royal flush was long before he learned how to flush his own potty. He actually loved watching those shows until he grew old enough to communicate. Then I became well versed in Diego and Blues Clues. I didn’t mind watching his shows because he didn’t mind watching mine.

All was happy in SAHD land until the Princess realized Carson could use the remote control better than she could. One day she wanted to switch the TV from DVD to cable. Although I had patiently explained how to do this many times in the past, she still couldn’t. When Carson did it before he was 12 months old, which was a few months before he could walk, and still 12 months away before the Princess could do it, we had the proverbial “Come to Princess” talk. Yes the talk about our son watching too much TV was held.

She reminded me of the theory that too much TV was potentially causing autism. I suggested it might be something else. Another “man mistake.” I just can’t help it. I am a man. I just operate in a woman’s world.

After a night on the couch, I agreed it was possible that too much TV causes autism, and we resumed our conversation. She and I discussed the merits of TV compared to quality time teaching our son things like how to walk, reading him books, teaching him how to color and how to go to the potty. When I suggested that Blue’s Clues and Diego were educational, I earned another night on the couch to rethink my position.

Well you may have to teach me twice, but never three times. I readily agreed that we needed to do something. So I asked her what her plan was. Now I suppose I should have acted like the executive I had been and presented her with the plan, but I just assumed that parenthood was the mommy’s domain and she is the executive, so I was all ears.

After another night on the couch, I had a brilliant idea to use her idea and talk about daycare. It was something she had discussed before because Carson’s cousins Eric and Andrew were in it part time and they were thriving. I had never been open to it because I liked having him home with me. Okay, perhaps I also liked my gig of changing a few diapers in exchange for the Game Show Network. Unlike me, I know you, my reader (and probably friend or family member), are not an idiot and already had it figured out, so why not come clean.

The other reason I just assumed it meant I was a failure at this gig. And in many ways, I was/am. But I had to admit that Carson needed a true teacher in order to keep up. When I went to kindergarten twenty, okay forty, years ago you learned the basics like ABC’s and how to count to five. Nowadays they better be reading books that I didn’t read until first or second grade. Carson can count to 100 in English and twenty in Spanish. Not sure when I learned that, but it wasn’t at age four.

So just like the 12 Steps Program for AA, I came to admit that I needed help. And I began to look at my failures and how a daycare program, for Carson, could help. But that’s another story.

Match the Curves, Pt. 2

In addition to life’s curves, I have noticed that I have a few more curves to my body. All in my mid-section. Now that Carson is in pre-school, I have plenty of time to get back to the gym. But after four years, I find that not going is okay by me and okay with the Princess. So that leaves me plenty of time to watch TV, play on-line games and write this column.

The curve that I am really interested in talking about is the ones on our feet. That is how I taught Carson to put on his shoes. I suppose that using the words left and right would make more sense, but it was the first thing that came to mind…Match the curves. I pointed out to him that each shoe has a curve and it needs to match up to his foot. He bought it and now he always asks me if his shoes match the curve. I always have to say yes or no. I also now point out to him that his toes point at each other and so must his shoes. I think he is starting to get the point.

Okay a cheesy pun. But the real point is that he is starting to see things logically. I may be a stay at home Dad (SAHD), but I am still a man foremost. Yes I can be touchy feely, but logic mostly prevails. And that is what I always fall back on when Carson asks me a question. This is always followed up with a “why” and then another “why?” I have found that answering him with a logical response worded in the way that a four year old can understand works best for him. And my sanity.

It is my way of teaching him some simple things like matching the curves. And I hope that I am building a foundation for him to come up with answers on his own. Answers that make sense for him. And more importantly, teach him how to think for himself. Because we all know that life throws us curves. And like me and you, life will throw him a few doozies.

And when it does, I hope that he can solve them for himself. If not, I hope that he will pick up the phone and call me. Since I am an older parent, I know I won’t be around for all of them and one day that phone call won’t be an option. But that’s another story.

Match the Curves

I can’t speak for everyone, but I have found that life really does throw us a bunch of curves. Some of mine were self induced, but others just amazingly unforeseen and unimaginable. For instance, I never thought I would be married and divorced. Twice. And after the second disaster, which shouldn’t even count, but the judge didn’t see it that way, I was certain that I would never get remarried again. And by the time I met the Princess, I was 39 years old and definitely never going to have kids. My first two wives didn’t want them which suited me fine. So there were several curves right there.

But then I met the Princess, another curve, and I knew that if I wanted to be married to her I would have to want to be a Dad. Big curve. I remember the moment like it was yesterday when I called her out of the blue on my way to work and said I realized that I wanted to have a kid with her. After the shocked silence I could only hear the joy in her heart that I felt in mine. And thus we matched our curves.

Well, a couple of years went by and we decided to give it a go, if you know what I mean. And to our surprise, my super sperm turned out to be well … super. We were shockingly pregnant in only a couple of months and I can proudly say that I handled it better than the Princess. She was in shock for four days. I was out of it in 3 ½.

Anyway, within a few weeks I had come up with the name Carson for either a boy or girl. The Princess was sure it was going to be a girl, but I knew it was a boy. The reason I knew is my Dad wanted to carry on the family name and there would hell to pay if it wasn’t a boy. Talk about pressure to perform. X’s and Y’s are just as complicated in sex as X’s and O’s in football.

When he was born, I had just left my job, another self induced curve, and decided to spend a few months home with the Princess and Carson. When it was time for her to return to work, we went to the daycare center. There was a baby that needed so much attention all the time that the workers had little time for the other children. It was there that the SAHD curve was thrown and I became a SAHD.

I guess that screaming baby helped me find the baby in me because it turns out that being a SAHD was a curve in my path filled with unending curves. Who knows what the next curve will be or when it will come.

It will probably come tonight when the Princess comes home with Carson, one of them expecting a gourmet meal instead of the frozen pizza. But that’s another story.

Relationship Maintenance

So I am sitting here in our sitting room. What else would one do in such a room? I am listening to killer tunes on our stereo system that the Princess paid a fortune for, thanks to me, and wondering “What am I going to do today?” I have been doing chores like laundry and I have forwarded my resume to a company that requested it. Hell I even made the beds.

Making the beds used to be something I always prided myself in doing first thing in the morning. But then I only had one bed to make and it only had a few of those annoying pillows that cost a fortune just to make the bedroom look finished. And then I married a Princess with a lot of pillows, as one would expect a Princess to have. In the beginning, I gladly helped her or took it upon myself to make the bed all by myself. But that was still the “wooing stage” in our relationship as she likes to call it.

Straightening sheets is easy. The problem is all the pillows. Because by the time I am finished making the Princess’ bed I still have to arrange all of the Princess’ pillows. I think there are about 20 of them. Now I will readily admit it looks great when it is done. But I can never remember how to arrange them. Sometimes I find a really good look with all of them. I even get accolades from the Princess when one of my arrangements reaches spectacular. Unfortunately, I am a lazy man (which is why my current gig works for me) and I never draw a sketch of my best arrangements. Not that I can draw anyway, but I am fairly certain I wouldn’t draw one even if I could.

I hate arranging all of those darn pillows. Worse, I hate “un-arranging” them at night. By the time we get to bed, I am too tired to want to do it. Heck, even the Princess hates it. However, she isn’t about to get rid of all of them, so the pillows stay. And if I want to stay, I better make the bed. So I do ….sometimes.

I have to admit, I am overwhelmed by the all of the chores that need to be done to run a house. Thank goodness we have maids. But there are so many other things that need to be accomplished like, grocery shopping, laundry, light cleaning/straightening up the house after a 4 year old and general maintenance. Just all of the phone calls that are needed to arrange for the maids, gardeners and maintenance takes so much time. After those few phone calls I am ready to pop open a beer and call it a day. I am sure that the Princess works a little harder at her Global gig. I know I used to when I was the CFO. But then I had a secretary to screen calls, and employees to return most of them.

In this gig, I have to delegate my authority to myself. I am still good at delegating, but my employee still resists getting the work done. It makes it even harder when the Princess delegates chores to me. You know, the ones where she tells me what to do, how to do it and when to do it by. I have to admit that my maleness still makes regular appearances when she does. That combined with my laziness, means that I accomplish very little. However, if I want to keep this gig, I know I need to do what the Princess delegates. And if I want any brownie points, I feel I need to do some of the things on my personal list as well.

I read most of the Men are from Mars Women are from Venus Book (laziness prevented me from reading it all). It was fascinating that the author mentioned that we men think we earn brownie points for doing chores. Turns out we don’t. Makes it a little hard when a man is also a SAHD. Who is supposed to give me the brownie points? My high earning Princess who is out doing a “man’s job?” Am I supposed to give them to myself, even though I am a man in a woman’s role? I think I secretly expect it to be both. Which is why I like to get a few things done early (like updating my IPod to play more killer music on our expensive stereo system) so I can revel in my success and call it a day by 9 am. That works until the Princess comes home and she is tired from a long hard day and asks me, “What did you do today?” Man how I hate that question (it ranks right up there with “What’s on your agenda today?”)! Not that they aren’t fair questions, and she is after all interested in me and my life. It just gets hard to answer the question to justify my existence when I stop working by 9, which happens to be the time she is usually getting started.

And then there is the whole gardener and maintenance man thing. Most of our yard is woods, but there are beds to weed, a little grass to mow and plants to take care of. I had gardeners in Texas, but our yard under maintenance was bigger, it was hotter and the labor was cheaper. So here in Connecticut, I have that responsibility. Now it only takes about 20 minutes to cut the grass and I never pull the weeds so it really isn’t that big of a deal, but the yard looks, well … just a bit untidy. Okay, it looks like crap, but it does have potential. Before Carson (“BC”) was born, I took great pride in the yard and worked on it all the time. I even won Yard of the Month! BC I only had to worry about the yard and light maintenance. Now I have to run the house. Since I have only me to delegate to, it takes longer and even less brownie points get bestowed. You know Ladies, the brownie points really are important!

Not that I am a good maintenance man. Until I met the Princess, I never really fixed anything. But she was used to her father and ex-husband being around. Turns out the eager beaver overachievers could fix anything. Before the Princess, I was happy and self-fulfilled when I replaced a light bulb. Now I have to be able to fix cars, plumbing and pool equipment. So I have learned what I could, cursed a lot at instructions written by engineers from a foreign land and tried to earn those coveted brownie points. Turns out they actually do get awarded for maintenance stuff.

Maybe that is why my ex-wife left me for the maintenance man. But that’s another story.

Sacked Sahd

Thanks

I would like to thank NC for her comments on my first two posts. If any of you have an experience in parenting you would like to discuss, please do. All you have to do is click on comments underneath a posting.
More posts from me next week.
SackedSahd

What do you do? Part 2

After writing my first piece, which the Princess laughed at hysterically, she pointed out that I hadn’t offered any advice on how to actually handle the question of "what do you do". I actually thought that I had, but again she is perfect and I am, well…. not. Yes perfect ladies, we imperfect guys know we aren't perfect. We know you know it. And we know you know we know. But don't expect us, or at least me, to ever admit it again.

So I am hoping that some of the readers out there, if there are any, will help me on how they have handled it.

I have always just been very upfront about it. In other words, I don’t bring it up unless someone asks. Am I embarrassed to be a stay at home Dad? Yes and no. The other day Carson asked me when I was going to get a job. I guess the four year old needs more toys. After I explained to him that I was trying he didn’t bring it up again until a week later. Then he said, “Daddy, I don’t want you to get a job. I want you to stay home and wait for me to come home from day care. I like you at home.” Since that day, he has held steadfast on his decision.

Unfortunately, the Princess has too. Thus, I am still looking for a job. I guess that surfing the net and occasionally doing laundry and cooking isn’t enough. Who knew?

I was really happy that Carson loves having me home. My Dad was hardly ever home when I was young. Or even a teenager for that matter. I have fond Sunday memories of going bowling, shooting hoops and watching football with him, but in general, he was always working Monday thru Saturday. Not surprisingly, my Dad admits I am a much better dad with Carson than he was with my brother and me, but Dad still worries that what I am doing isn’t going to be enough. He remembers all too well how my mother finally had had enough being at home and returned to get her PHD in Psychology. I think the man works tradition also bothers him, but he hasn’t ever admitted it to me.

The Princess has been a tremendous support in my role and she has been a huge help in Carson’s development. But I was the one who saw him walk for the first time. I was the one who potty trained him (although it took me four years). I have been there for most of his major first time experiences, both positive and negative. So am I proud? You bet! Is it still awkward, you bet.

I suppose the best advice I can give new SAHDs is to be open and honest about it, and don’t hedge like I have. We are raising our kids while our wives work. If someone asks why, tell them that you wanted to shape your kids lives more than your dad shaped yours, or for whatever reason is the truth.

The truth for us is the Princess makes a heck of a lot more money than I ever did. My best year economically would be a disaster for her. So economically it made sense to me, although, perhaps not to the Princess, and certainly not to my father-in-law or Dad…..yeah, they have told me, but that’s another story.

Sacked SAHD

What do you do?

“What do you do?”
“I am the Global Head of Commodities.”
“And what about you?”
“I am a stay at home Dad,” I respond with a perceptible hesitation and wince waiting for their reaction.
That answer always brings about several now predictable responses, from a simple nod and painful silence to the occasional “You’re my hero, I wish my wife would let me do that!” Generally it is the former and the conversation redirects to my wife and her global job.
If it is one on one with a guy, then I usually add, “But I used to be a Chief Financial Officer of a company I took public and most recently I have been a financial recruiter.” Surprisingly, unless they need a new job, silence follows this too. And generally, they don’t ask questions of whether I like staying home with my son or what it is like being a man in a woman’s world.
On the other hand, some women, like my wife, think it is great and do ask a bunch of questions. The one I hate is, “would you like to have a play date with our kids?” I always politely respond with a non-committal “sure.” Hey, I may be new fashioned when it comes to staying home with Carson, but I am still old fashioned that I don’t hang out with wives and their kids (without my wife ... and their husband). I distinctly remember in my twenties that I would never want a stay at home wife who took tennis lessons with some young hunk while I slaved, and now I am stuck in that nether world of guilt reconciling my previous position on stay at home parents and being one myself.
In fact, until I met my current wife (yes, there have been others), I never even wanted to be a Dad. Now I am a stay at home Dad in Wilton, Connecticut. A very liberal voting state. We just moved here from Texas last summer. Just a tad more conservative state. I have met one other stay at home Dad since we arrived, which is one more than I met in Texas. However, Texans seemed to admire my station in life far better than they do up here. Go figure.
Unlike women, men don’t have the same networks, especially us SAHDs (Stay at Home Dads). There aren’t SAHD groups, we don’t hang together and parenting magazines barely refer to us. For four years my wife tried to get me to write a column about my “job.” Partly because she wants me to do something besides play computer games and watch Nickelodeon all day and we could always use the money. But mainly because no one is doing it and that makes her mad. Makes the other SAHD’s wife mad too.
Sure most of the tips in magazine and newspaper articles apply equally, but they don’t deal with Daddy issues, like how to network with other SAHDs, how to reenter the workforce or even change a diaper. Heck, I had never babysat or changed a diaper until Carson was born. I hadn’t even held a baby for fear I might decide I wanted one. And now after four years, I find it hard to get an interview, much less a job. And soon my son will attend kindergarten and I will officially become a sacked SAHD. So I am going to give this a go. It can’t earn any less and my perfect global head of commodities wife likes it. Then again it was her idea. From now on I will call her Princess.
Some of the topics I will cover include:
TV vs. day care- They both worked for me, but only one worked for Princess.
Perfect Mom/ Imperfect Dad-Don’t get me started.
Maintenance Man/Gardener and the SAHD-We still have to be those too.
Get a job-It’s harder than you think.
CPR for your kid and your marriage
Single Dad’s and SAHDs
Cooking vs. Take Out
House cleaning-Only if the Princess says I have to.

I would hope that other SAHDs would write in and we can begin a dialogue on issues that face us.

Dave Crays aka “Sacked SAHD”
Professional SAHD
(Okay I made that up)