Dad Needs a Sick Day

Mama called the doctor and the doctor said..

There is a commercial for Dayquil/Nyquil indicating that parents don't get sick days.  While the fact is often true, parents don't get sick days, that doesn't mean that we don't need one from time to time.  I get sick, like out of commission sick, usually once a year.  Minor colds a little more frequently, along with my seasonal allergies (thanks neanderthals).  I've commented before that since become a parent, and having a child that interacts with other snot-nosed kids, sharing germs and neglecting to wash hands for the entire ABC song, I've found myself more often sick from natural causes then from being hungover.  When you have kids, comparable to when you are retired, you're inclined to talk about your ailments though.  Common parental banter includes the oft-asked question, especially this time of year, "are you staying healthy?"  

Sick days were not a big deal when I was a working dad with kids in daycare.  Send the kids off, probably to pick up new germs to bring home, while you veg out on the couch, recover and watch the movies you should have seen as new releases four years ago that are now playing on USA.  Because I didn't get sick very often, something I feel pretty fortunate about, I took sick leave pretty infrequently when I was working, and when I "retired" I probably had about two months worth of unused sick leave.  I probably would have had more had I not been able to use my sick leave for when my kids were sick or needed to go to the doctor, another thing I felt very fortunate about.  Since I had a more flexible work environment, along with ample sick leave in comparison to my wife (see earlier post), I was typically the one who stayed home with a sick kid(s) or went with them to an always adventurous trip to the clinic (see earlier post).  While you never want to see your kids sick, sometimes a good cuddle day on the couch can do wonders for both an under-the-weather child and an often over-exerted parent.

Obviously being a stay-at-home parent, without the benefits of paid sick leave, or even at times an outlet for your kids should someone in your family fall ill, your options tend to be a little more limited.  When your kids are depending on you to feed them and supervise their behavior throughout the day, you can only quarantine yourself in your bedroom, or the bathroom should symptoms warrant it, for so long.  This means you are going to have to engage with your kids, at least minimally, when all you want to do is curl up in the fetal position and hit the reset button on your life.  Every little annoyance your kids might typically cause throughout the day will be amplified by 102, or whatever temperature your baby thermometer is reading after you use it on yourself.  

Being a sick stay-at-home parent also means that inevitably whatever you have, your kids will be getting shortly.  Or conversely, whatever they had they have now given to you to pass along to anyone else in your house who has not already gotten it, or something worse, within the last week.  While our kids are probably not getting sick as often without them being in daycare, when someone in our house does get sick, then we are essentially all guaranteed to get sick.  I've heard horror stories about families that had the flu pass through everyone in their house, and then repeat its cycle once the last person was finally starting to feel better.  As Justin Timberlake would say, "what goes around, goes around, goes around, comes all the way back around."  Yeah.  

Since becoming a stay-at-home parent, I've had two instances of really needing a sick day.  The first was this fall, when my seasonal allergies seemed to turn into something a little more serious.  I suspect pneumonia, because after Gus started running a multi-day fever the doctor informed us he had pneumonia.  I let mine go undiagnosed, but took a few swigs of his antibiotic for good measure.  Luckily on this occasion, we had prearranged for my Mom to take our girls overnight, so my parenting responsibilities during that particular bout of illness were limited to a 10 month old who was feeling somewhat under the weather as well.  I tried not to breathe on him, which proved to be a challenge when all he wanted to do was be held.  

The second time was two weeks ago, and manifested itself in the stomach flu, which is always more exciting.  I very much dislike the stomach flu, as it usually has a tendency to really knock me out.  I was never one to "puke & rally" during my younger, considerably dumber, days of excessive imbibing.  If I was praying at the porcelain altar at the end of a night of incredibly bad decisions, the outlook for the following day (or two) was pretty bleak.  Fortunately, in the relative rarity of my getting sick, the stomach flu tends to be even less common, and I think this was my first case of flu induced reserve peristalsis in at least five years.  Aesthetically this is good because my wife has informed me that I'm a "loud puker".  Not something I really take as a compliment.

I could feel my condition deteriorating early afternoon on Thursday, at which point I confined myself to one of our couches (see earlier post) and turned the TV on for the kids.  Havi was also starting to complain about her "tummy" hurting*, and naturally wanted to lie down by dad, literally right on my midsection.  Gus moseyed over to the couch and proceed to hit me and poke me in the face, wondering why I wouldn't get up.  Whatever I had apexed around 3pm, when I bolted for the bathroom to become unwillingly reacquainted with my lunch.  At one point Isla came to check on me and inquire if I was going "poo-poo" or "pee-pee".  I attempted to explain that it was neither, and she seemed to get the gist.  My wife returned home after work to find me half comatose on the couch and the kids (Gus included) zombied in front of the TV.  I promptly put in for sick leave and recused myself to the basement.

My bug seemed to be about a 24 hour thing, and by mid-day on Friday was making considerable improvement.  Saturday morning I felt good enough to consider myself a functioning parent, which was perfect timing because my wife had to go work that morning and almost made it through her entire shift before tossing.  While she was away, Isla also got sick, throwing up on me multiple times as I attempted to carry her to the bathroom.  If your going to spew, spew into this (dad's shirt).  Her inability to predict her urges to honk turned most of my morning into doing laundry, cleaning floors, and trying to keep non-vomiting kids away from the vomit, all whilst trying to hold down my own vomit as my stomach was still somewhat queasy.  At least kids tend to be pretty resilient, and Isla always seemed to be able to produce a lighthearted chuckle after pointing out that she threw up.  Yes, honey, I saw it.  And felt it.

By Sunday everyone seemed to be back to normal, and fortunately neither Gus nor Havi came down with anything as bad as what the rest of us had.  Havi still complained occasionally of her stomach hurting, and Gus was going on a week of a smoker's cough, so any odd sound from them was followed by a tense waiting for projectile vomit to follow, but nothing serious ever materialized.  To make matters even more exciting, the weekend we fell ill, the outside temps scarcely nudged above 0, and wind-chills hovered in the -20 range, making leaving the house for supplies (7up, saltines) a polar expedition.  My wife was also on-call for work over the weekend but fortunately didn't get called until Sunday when everything seemed to have passed.  We made it through another bout of family illness, hopefully to have a little reprieve before the next plague descends on our house.

Even beyond the family illnesses, being a stay-at-home parent can produce a perilous environment at times.  It's very morbid to consider, but when I'm holding multiple children while descending our staircase, I occasionally wonder what might happen if I fell down the stairs and became incapacitated.  Or if I just had a completely unforeseen medical emergency during the day that hindered my ability to perform my parental duties.  They are intricate tasks, and attempting them with any sort of handicap is never fun.  A few weeks ago, I took sizable chunks out of the tips of my index and middle finger on my dominant hand while using the new slicer I got for Christmas.^  Have you ever tried changing diapers of a squirmy 1 year old without the use of your two most important fingers?

Not that anyone needs to be calling me every hour to check-in to ensure that I'm still breathing and the kids are being looked after (okay, Mom?).  But taking kids to the ER when you're fully functioning is taxing enough, imagine if you were the one that needed medical attention and the kids were just along for the ride (and moral support of course).  That would definitely be some good blog material, once you were fully recovered.  Family life can be a treacherous place, so stay safe out there parents.  Head on a swivel and wash those hands.

It had been at least 20 years since I'd seen "Babe"

 Of the two below photos, one is taken with a sick parent and one is taken with a hungover parent.  

I won't divulge which is which.

*I take most of Havi's bodily sensation pronouncements with a grain of salt, as her tummy also occasionally tells her that it wants to watch a movie, but this time there seemed to be justifiable concern.

^This item was not on my SAHD Christmas list, but it is equal parts awesome and dangerous.

It's the Most Wondeful(ly stressful) Time of the Year

"You Do It To Yourself, You Do"

So we survived the chaos that is the Holiday season.  It's no easy feat with small children, but we all made it to 2016.  The emotions oscillated between the highest highs and the lower of lows, and the tears were plentiful, sometimes of joy, mostly of frustration and exhaustion.  Given the fact that two of our kids celebrate birthdays between Christmas and New Year's (Gus' actually being on Christmas Day) and my wife and our oldest share a birthday just before Thanksgiving, the last six weeks of the calendar year are usually awash in celebrations.  This year was no different.  It started the week before Thanksgiving with a birthday tea party for Isla with a dozen other 5 year-olds, included multiple Thanksgiving and Christmas Celebrations, and found us making our inaugural trip to Chuck E. Cheese for Havi's 3rd birthday.  The #brunsfamilyfun culminated with Jess and I celebrating our 7th wedding anniversary in style at a rock show^ the weekend after Christmas.    

As a cynical realist, I always get a little miffed at the general approach to the Holiday season.  It's the "Most Wonderful Time of the Year"; with so much "misletoeing" how can our hearts not be glowing?  A time to sit inside by the crackling fire and watch the snow fall outside because we've no place to go.  All of this Holiday Merriment tends to stress us out though.  Between decking the halls, going over the river and through the woods to grandma's house, or putting presents on the tree (who actually puts presents on the tree?), there never seems to be enough time, energy or sanity to get everything accomplished.  Without fail, we get a little closer than we want to snapping a gingerbread man's head off* and cancelling Christmas.

I tend to think of myself as a relatively calm person.  An old coworker once asked me what sedative my doctor prescribed me and how he could get his hands on some.  Even though I did do a few things this Holiday season that I vehemently swore I'd never do, like put up outdoor Christmas lights, I felt my typical stressfree self going into the whirlwind that is the Christmas celebration.  I did however have my moment of overwhelm the Monday after Christmas, after returning from three straight days of celebrations.  In the process of making my third trip to our recycling container with empty boxes from new toys accumulated by the kids, I noticed the smear of finger prints on our back door.  I was certain these were from Gus, as one of his top five favorite activities is to give continuous high fives to any glass window he can find, and that they could range anywhere from a few hours to a few months old.

As I sighed, realizing all of the other things I had neglected over the past few weeks while we were rocking around the Christmas tree, I recalled something my 94 year old Grandma said when we stopped by her apartment on Christmas Day.  Gus had found his way over to her patio door to engage in his typical window banging, and I offered to windex the glass before we left.  She told me not to bother because she hadn't cleaned the ones off from the last time we were there a few months prior.  What I saw as another thing to add to the cleaning list, she saw as a memento of the time she got to spend with her great-grandkids.    

My Mom, another preserver of grandkid fingerprints on windows, has a quote on her fridge by Cesare Pavese that reads "we do not remember days, we remember moments."  I think this is particularly poignant during the holiday season, as we bend over backwards to find the best gift for our kids or loved ones or try in seeming vain to create those perfect holiday moments.  I remember standing in a lengthy return line at a large retailer shortly after Christmas a few years ago thinking of how stores have to build in the expense of return cost when pricing an item, and how all of us probably pay more for things because we are overtly picky and bad gift givers.  Along with including a gift receipt with the gift, the most common thing that seems to be said after a gift is open is, "you can return it if you want."  'Tis the season.  

I once read a suggestion about doing a "buy nothing" Christmas with your family, and I really hope my family can do this at some point.  Not because I am cheap (though I am pretty cheap), but because I think the concept could resonate powerfully with young kids.  Of course at the time it would be powerfully negative, as they would be pissed as hell.  But hopefully they might understand the reasoning eventually as they get older.  Whether you celebrate Christmas in the traditional fashion or not, taking a break from the excessive commercialism that roles around at that time of year can offer a needed respite from the stress that tends to come with "buying" into those societal norms.  We all know "things" don't make us happy, at least not in the long run.  People do, relationships do, moments do.  If my parents had done a "buy nothing" Christmas when I was growing up, undoubtedly that would have been the most memorable Christmas I ever had (in a very bad way then, in a good way now).

The hard part comes with the kids, because they can easily get filled with the Christmas "magic".  We want to see their eyes light up on Christmas morning when they are tearing through their presents.  It makes us feel accomplished as parents to see the smiles on their faces.  Or as author Lisa Earle McLeod puts it, "childhood happiness has become the scorecard by which adults measure their success or failure as parents."  But I think it is important at a young age to help them understand what really is the Christmas magic.  After a while, typically a lot shorter than you probably think given the price tag, the allure of the toy will probably fade.  The kid will be on to the next thing (or more interested in the box it came in), and you'll be left stepping on the many pointy accessories that came with the toy and never seem to get put away.  But the real Christmas magic is in the happy moments together with the people you love, no matter where you are or what you are doing.  Fortunately, or not in some cases, thanks to our memory bias, you typically remember more of the good ones than the bad ones.  I think about the irony of this, as I'm currently going through our photos from 2015 to create our annual year-in-review slideshow montage, deleting the bad ones and keeping the good.  And of course creating that 2016 photo folder so we can do it all again next year....

   This is probably where that family photo 

of us from Christmas should go.

Had it gotten taken.

Yes Mom, I will gladly eat this cake you made for my birthday.

Nothing like a little video arcade road rage at Chuck E. Cheese.

                      

^Okay, bit of a stretch.  After a two year hiatus, the "band" that I "play" in conveniently booked a show on our anniversary.  Her gift to me was allowing me to pretend to be a rock star for a night - best present ever.  I bought her a drink at the bar (with her money of course).
   

*I know it's sexist, but I don't want to condone violence against women

Subtitle courtesy of Thom Yorke  

Oh, Caravan!

An Ode to Practicality

When you become a parent, especially for the second or third time, you tend to find yourself looking at things through the lens of practicality.  In the midst of the chaos that comes with children, you look for anything and everything that can simplify the process or calm the storm.  Your life takes on certain complexities that seem incomprehensible to those without children, but make so much sense to you.  Somebody wants you and your children under age 5 to do something after lunch?  Not a chance.  Anticipating the kids sleeping longer on the weekend because you told the sitter they could stay up later while you were out “painting the town”?  Wishful thinking*.  Keeping a potty chair in your vehicle just in case?  Smart move.  Because you have practically zero control over how your day will unfold, your approach to it has to be as practical as possible if you ever hope to survive.
 

The purchase of our minivan is a prime example.  The minivan is a bastion of practicality – seating for seven, the seemingly never-ending storage space, relatively good gas mileage considering the occupancy level of the vehicle, reasonable insurance premiums.  Did I mention the storage space?  You may have hesitations about the stigma surrounding people who drive such contraptions`, but once you get one, it’s hard to imagine life without one.  Or, as an article pointing out the complexities of having three kids notes, “you need an automatic sliding side door the way an eel needs water.”  I’ve actually started to eagerly imagine the first adults-only road trip that the van can be utilized for.

        

Because it is such a practical vehicle, I feel as though my approach to operating it should be congruent with its practicality.  Yes, I am the guy driving the actual speed limit because it yields me the best gas mileage.  Honestly, I’m not usually in a hurry to get anywhere, because when you’re trying to go somewhere with kids you’re either late or early.  And when we’re late, we’re likely so late already it doesn’t make a difference.  I don’t really care if you’re running behind for work or your yoga class or your coffee date.  My improved gas mileage is more important than your time.  I’m also assuming that you are talking/texting/tweeting/posting a selfie and focusing about 17% of your attention on the road.  You’re welcome to speed by me coming out of the stoplight; I’ll keep my RPMs under 2000 to balance the redlining of yours.  You can even honk or gesture obscenely if you’d like.  As Marge Simpson would say, “slow and steady wins the race!”
  

I've always been relatively frugal (read: cheap), but my parental practicality has helped me develop a more effective approach to utilizing our various resources.  Like washing and reusing Ziploc bags or any jar or container that seems as though it could hold something else after its original contents have been consumed.  I’ve been known to put the clothes my kid’s wore throughout the day back in their drawers if they don’t seem excessively dirty.  To say nothing of my own clothes that don’t even make it into a drawer, but rather a pile on the floor to be put back on tomorrow, and likely the day after that, visibly dirty or not (see earlier post).  Toilet paper that Gus has pulled off of the roll while entertaining himself in the bathroom either gets re-rolled or folded nicely and placed on top of the toilet ready to be used for its actual purpose.  And when the toilet paper is actually gone of course we’ll put that empty paper roll in the “craft box” along with anything else I think could possibly be used for a “creative project”, where it will sit for a few months before I eventually just recycle it anyway.
          

Taking a practical viewpoint of things can work itself into all kinds of scenarios.  You become hyperaware of your plan of action should anyone in your party need to use the bathroom while out in public. When we go anywhere, I immediately identify the closest bathroom and mentally visualize the quickest route to said bathroom should anyone start to motion toward their crotch.  My questioning of my kid’s need to use the potty before we leave the house or when we find ourselves in close proximity to a bathroom could be considered borderline interrogation.  Are you sure you don’t have to go?  How about now?  And of course we keep a potty chair in our van as part of our roadside emergency kit; it’s a genius idea I wish I could take credit for.  There’s also more than ample space.

 

Sometimes the approach of parental practicality is done during times of sheer impracticality.  Most notably this time of year when we tend to ask our little ones to complete insurmountable tasks – sitting still for family photos while dressed in uncomfortable clothes we’ve sternly instructed them not get dirty; behaving like sweet little angels in new environments while off the regular routine and coked up on frosted cookies and candy canes; waiting patiently to open presents that have been sitting under a tree visibly taunting them for weeks; acting cordial when we try to coax them to sit on the lap of some stranger who has a big white beard and a one of a kind red ensemble^.  We make gracious attempts to stay practical, like keeping the bottom third of our Christmas trees free of any ornaments, especially the old “sentimental” ones that are 100% pure lead paint.  We make comments like, “that went about as expected” to give us some justification for putting our kids through the torment.

Luckily, when it’s all said and done and the Holidays are over, we can always pile back into the calm oasis that is the minivan.  Inside everything will be peaceful and serene, as long as everyone is sleeping (save the driver) or there is a movie playing on the built in DVD player (a feature I was adamantly opposed to before better grasping its practicality).  Sure it will be full of new relatively impractical things that we’ll have to find practical ways to deal with when we get home.  But at least we’ll still fit comfortably because the amount of storage space is unreal.

           

*Let’s be honest, after you have kids you no longer paint the town.  At best you prime it, but usually you’re just edging or doing the trim.  Every parent knows the later you let your kid stay up, the earlier they will be up the next morning, no matter how hung-over you are.  Luckily you are seldom hung-over anymore because it’s just not practical.

`I drove a van for the better part of my senior year of high school.  This was done more for the sake of irony than practicality.  And suitable punishment for some reckless teenage behavior.

^I think I’d be concerned if my kids didn’t freak out when we encourage them to sit on Santa’s lap.

           

Seriously, look at the space.  You could live in there.
Down by the river, of course.
  

I'm glad she finds the presence of an abnormally
dressed man she's never met somewhat disturbing.

Parenting Strengthsfinder 2.0

Arranger (of playdates)

Responsibility (for driving the minivan)

Harmony (on the children’s music)

I just passed the one year mark on my tenure as a stay-at-home parent.  Thus I figured it’s about time for my first annual performance review, something I had the pleasure of doing on a yearly basis before I “retired” and something I’m sure a number of you are familiar with.  Now I haven’t actually had an official performance review on how I am doing as a stay-at-home parent, but if I did, it would likely be conducted by my wife, who of course is the boss.  There was a news headline a few weeks ago that suggested that spouses should actually do some form of performance review with each other as a form of relationship building.  While that seems good in theory, I’m guessing not too many couples have started the practice.  

Of course every performance review has a self appraisal component, where you inform your boss of how you think you are doing with your job responsibilities.  I usually approached these sections with some general restraint, usually giving myself mostly 3s & 4s on the 5-point Likert Scale.  Downplay how well I thought I was doing, which would typically lead to one of two scenarios:  1. My boss informing me that they thought I was doing way better than what I thought I was doing, which lead to some nice ego-boosting.  Or 2, (and usually more common) where my boss would agree with my assertions that I was doing pretty middle of the road work, which in reality meant that I was actually doing pretty piss poor work and should probably get my act together.

So, how is it going or how do I think I am doing on fulfilling my responsibilities as a stay-at-home parent?  I’d still give myself some 3x & 4s on that 5-point Likert Scale.  Like any other job or responsibility, I tend to have my good days and bad days.  I had a lot of lofty goals, and despite this being my “year of do”, I only accomplished a handful.  On the positive side, I haven’t lost any of them yet, we haven’t broken anything too valuable, and I don’t believe I’ve unintentionally introduced them to any curse words.  That is not to say that we haven’t had our fair share of bumps along the way.  Just this week, Jess came home from work to find a very noticeable bruise and bump on Gus’ forehead to which I had absolutely no explanation for.  Later that evening, I found Havi applying appliance epoxy to the exposed part of her skin.  Can you tell us about a time when you don’t feel as though you were able to completely execute the duties of your position? 

Part of doing a self review for a job is identifying your strengths and weakness, or areas of improvement in more friendly verse.  I certainly have my own strengths and weaknesses as a parent, like most others do.  I could egregiously tell you that my weaknesses are that I love my kids too much, or I try too hard to engage and keep them happy all the time.  But of course that isn’t true, and that type of answers if probably why most people think performance reviews are a waste of time, as we’re never really honest during them.
 

Kids are honest though, sometimes brutally.  I suppose I could do a performance appraisal with them, but I think I already know what the feedback would be – you don’t let us watch enough tv, you should give us more candy, sometimes you get lazy while giving horse rides, etc.  A few weeks ago, Isla told me that I was bad at brushing hair.  It’s a very valid criticism; I’m not very good at brushing hair.  I have limited experience, and my personal need to brush my hair has been on the sharp decline since having children.  While I understand that there are some safety concerns ensuring that your child’s hair is adequately brushed following a bath, I will be the first to admit that “hair presentation” is definitely a weakness of mine.  I can put in a pony-tail, not a good one, but one that will hold the majority of the girls’ hair back or at least five minutes.  I also claim that I can braid hair, but not any of my children’s.  Only the hair of inanimate objects that sit completely motionless, can’t feel pain and don’t talk back. 

My lack of finger dexterity will almost always guarantee that any diaper changes I do will take considerably longer and involve many more tears than they should.  I’ve never understood why the buttons on children’s clothing need to be so small (or why buttons are needed at all).  I’ve also learned that for anyone over 6 feet tall, there never seems to be a comfortable position to change a diaper of a squirming baby.  Invariably you are hunched over in the most awkward, permanent back-pain inducing position for much longer than you’d like trying to get the damn buttons on the onsie to match up.  While I recognize these weaknesses, I’m probably not going to do much to try and improve on some of the arbitrary ones.  Sure, one could make the argument that I can practice and work on getting better at styling my girls’ hair or become more efficient with my diaper changes.  Consider those weaknesses though the next time you hand me a jar of salsa to open or ask me to get something off the top shelf.  I know what my strengths are and how they can be best utilized.

I’ve always considered patience to be one of my strengths in life in general.  Being a stay-at-home parent has definitely tested this patience, and I’ve certainly found a number of times when I’ve really struggled to keep a level head when interacting with my kids.  I’m reading a great book right now called Peaceful Parent, Happy Kids and it has been a much needed refresher on how to stay calm and patient during those particularly trying times.  Kids can certainly add a significant amount of stress to our life, but parenting does not have to be a stressful experience.  As Dr. Markham points out, kids act like kids because they are kids.  It doesn’t do us any good to judge their behavior.

 

It also doesn’t do us any good to judge other parents or other children, but this is something parents seem to be horrible at.  Even for me, as non-judgmental as I believe I am, it becomes all too easy to watch other parents and their children and compare them to your children and your parenting style, as pointless as it is.  I remember our pediatrician once commenting that all kids develop differently; physically, emotionally, and intellectually.  This is something I try to keep in mind when I see my children interacting with other children, and wondering if my kids are smarter, healthier, more socially mature, and better behaved than their peers.  What I’m really measuring through that valuation is if I’m doing a better job at parenting than my peers.  

This is absurd because we don’t, at least we shouldn’t, parent our kids for the recognition of other parents.  We parent our kids to foster connection and sustain a meaningful relationship with them.  To provide them the unconditional love and support so they can go out and be successful in the world.  And the best way to do this is to create a peaceful, loving environment.  The irony is that while we probably claim we don't like to be judged (hence the reason we probably hate the performance reviews), our behavior seems to suggest just the opposite, especially today in our social media filled lives.  Every time we post something about ourselves, our children, or the company we keep, we're really looking for judgement from the broader public on our behavior and viewpoints.  In monitoring the various likes, shares, retweets, page hits and comments provides we are looking for validation of ourselves.  Obviously I can't claim to be above this as I'm utilizing a social medium right now to express my opinions to be judged by others.         

 

Our kids will always find ways to get on our nerves, and because we are imperfect humans, we will inevitably have moments with our kids that won’t go as well as we’d like.  I’ve experienced this first hand; a lot.  As parents we get to choose how to react to those moments.  As an old colleague liked to remind me when a situation arose at work that created some tension, “they don’t pay us enough to stress out.”  Undoubtedly I’ll never get to the point on any “parental performance review” of tallying all 5s on that 5-point scale, as the hair and make-up will probably always be my "areas of improvement".  But if we work on trying to ensure that we are parenting consciously and mindful of our own emotions and actions, we should hopefully consistently meet expectations (the 3s), if not occasionally exceed them (the 4s).  It may not get you a promotion or a pay raise, but it will at least keep you employed.

Of course this was not my doing.

Stay-at-Home Dadbod

Why I quit the gym

I had an annual physical last week, and you'll probably be relieved to know that I received a relatively clean bill of health.  I have been deemed fit for my current role as a stay-at-home parent.  If physicals of the President and professional athletes are newsworthy, I figure mine probably is too.  As to be expected, immediately following my check-up I came down with some sort of virus that is still making the rounds within our house, but more on that later.

This past spring, social media and the internet were abuzz (at least for a few weeks) around the concept of the "Dadbod".  It took hold when Mackenzie Pearson, a student at Clemson University, posted an article entitled "Why Girls Love the Dad Bod".  The phenomenon was picked up by major media outlets including The Atlantic, Slate, Salon, and other outlets of culture commentary (of course Buzzfeed), which helped solidify its prominence.  While the concept hasn't gotten any press lately and is by no means #trending, I wanted to revisit it.  Naturally as an opinionated blogger I have a few issues with it - it's kind of what I supposed to do.

I know what you're thinking, "Why would someone who has been sporting a "dadbod" for at least a decade have any issues with this?"  The first reason can't really be summed up more accurately than this conversation between Kristen Schaal and Jon Stewart on the The Daily Show back in May.  The sexist double-standard is bad for both women and men.  It's like the standing ovation for the guy who changes the diaper.  Don't encourage it.

The second reason is as someone who you believes they have cultivated an authentic "dadbod", I feel a little exploited.  As Jon Stewart was quick to point out in the segment, none of the male celebrities referenced in the media clips are actually dads.  And in the initial article by the Clemson University Junior that referenced the topic, she is presumably referencing "dadbods" on her male collegiate counterparts.  At least I hope she is.  While the physical nature of what constitutes a "dadbod" seems to be generally agreed upon, there are stark differences in how one can achieve a "dadbod" figure.

In the effort of full disclosure I quit the gym because my gym access stopped when I stopped working outside the home.  I stopped lifting weights because throughout the course of my day I'm typically doing a non-stop 25, 35, or 45lb arm curl.  Sometimes its one on each arm.  My lightly defined quads can be attributed to the various times at all hours of the day or night when the only way to soothe a sleeping a baby was to put her/him in the baby bjorn and do some squats reps.  Cross training and cardio becomes a mix of engaging in

As a parent your personal time decreases significantly, and subsequently

Sure I still enjoy my pizza and beer.  But now instead of eating a whole frozen pizza      

So frat boys, if you're currently rocking the "dadbod", enjoy a few more slices of pizza and a few more beers.  Revel in your ability to maintain your "dadbod" with minimal effort.  In ten years you may find yourself where those of us with real dadbods are, and it might not seem quite as enjoyable.  But we don't do it to try and keep up with you, or impress your sorority girlfriends.  If we're trying to impress anybody, it's actually our wives' friends.  Because as Brian Kelms has pointedly stated, and I've referenced before, the better we look to our wives friends, the more attractive we look to our wives.  We also do it for our kids, so that we'll hopefully be around long enough for them to appreciate the fact that we didn't completely let ourselves go after becoming fathers.  It's a tempting proposition.              

The Family Vacation: Same Chaos, Change of Scenery

Should We Stay or Should We Go?

We took a little family getaway for a few days last week as my wife somehow managed to scrounge up some vacation days (see earlier post for necessary context).  We had managed a couple of long weekends this summer, but typically those involved trips up to a small resort owned by Jess's grandparents.  This time we opted to head some place new with the kids, so given the time of year and the amount of time it would take us to get there (a reasonable nap length) we decided on Duluth.

Before we had kids we liked to travel.  I was able to spend a semester abroad in college, and after our first years of grad school, Jess and I traveled around Spain for four weeks.  We'd also made a few trips to Mexico and tried to coordinate some leisure travel in the United States at least once or twice a year.  We were not frequent flyers by any means, but we liked to go when we could.  Once we found out we were expecting, I was adamant that having a baby would do little to dampen this desire.  I read books about how to travel with children and started to mentally prepare myself for the adventures that would ensue*.  Sure it would take a little work, but we were up for the challenge.

Then reality set in - traveling with kids is hard.  Even though they are small people, they tend to require a lot of stuff.  Even before we setting off for a weekend away we inevitably drive around our block at least once to pick up something we've forgotten - a favorite blanket, extra diapers, climate appropriate clothing, etc.  Once I needed to make a midnight trip to Walmart to purchase an extra Pack & Play, as our's was conveniently left sitting by our back door.  Factoring the extra drama and chaos by being off of a routine and sleeping in different beds, along with the cost of accommodations and meals for a family of five, it's tempting to not want to go anywhere, ever.  So whenever we manage to snag a few days off, we always seem to do that dance - it would be fun to go somewhere, but it would probably just be easier and significantly cheaper to stay home.

But every now and again you just need to get out of the house, and as someone who spends a significant amount of time in his house, that urge can become much more compelling.  Duluth was about a 2.5 hour drive from St. Joe, which we figured could provide enough time for Havi and Guthrie to nap if we timed it right by leaving mid-morning.  Naturally we booked a hotel with a pool because that is the most exciting thing of the entire trip for the kids.  Pools and continental breakfasts have become our default search filters when booking accommodations, and on our last hotel stay I actually found myself contacting various hotels to inquire about the depth of their pools.  Isla had taken to swimming without a life-jacket, and I wasn't interested in her hanging on me the entire time we were enjoying the aquatic amenities so I wanted to make sure she could touch on her own.  

When you take a trip and then find yourself spending a sizable amount of time in the hotel pool, you kind of wonder what the purpose of the trip was, and why you paid so much money when you could have just stayed home and got a day-pass to your local Y.  But then you wouldn't have any photos to put on Facebook (via Instagram via PicCollage) to show the world all of the fun things you do as a family, or the few times one of your children happens to not be crying.  This trip actually found us finding a good balance of doing what the kids wanted; swim in the pool and jump on the hotel beds, and what Jess and I wanted; see some of the sights, eat at some good places, and not stress out too much.  Of course we had our fair share of meltdowns and often resorted to what I like to call "any port parenting."^  But in the end I was glad we went and would deem the trip a success.

A key component was getting into a good schedule, even during our short stay.  We'd wake up, way too early for a "vacation" and gorge ourselves on baked goods at the continental breakfast.  This would typically give us an hour or so to swim before attempting to be out of the hotel around 10/10:30.  We tried to fill our day with enough activity to keep the kids excited and tire them out at the same time - we saw ships come into the port, we visited the Great Lakes Aquarium, ran around a few playgrounds and did some hiking at Gooseberry Falls State Park.  On our second day, all of the kids fell asleep in the car after playing at a playground, so we spend most of the afternoon just driving around Duluth, which was not-surprisingly peaceful and enjoyable given the scenic drives along the lake.  We'd keep lunch light which would work well for an early dinner out with the Senior Citizens, and allow us to get back to the hotel for a few hours of swimming before crashing in whatever bizarre sleeping arrangements we had devised.    

This trip was also somewhat of a redemption trip considering the end result of a similar trip we took last summer.  We were in a comparable situation with a few days off before a July weekend, and considered going up to the lake or just enjoying a few days at home, but in the end decided to go to La Crosse, Wisconsin - where I actually spent two years in grad school.  It is a scenic little town on the Mississippi River with a quaint downtown and enough outdoor activity that I figured would keep the kids entertained.  We were also able to stop by and see some of my old bosses from my grad school days and have them meet the family.  Of course our hotel had a pool, and even a waterslide and a "kid's pool".  Jackpot!  We had a fun couple of days, and the last thing on our trip agenda was to grab brunch at my favorite breakfast spot before having the kids nap during the 3.5 hour drive back.

We checked out of our hotel and were on our way to brunch when we got in a minor car accident.  Everybody was okay, but it did result in Isla being transported to the hospital via an ambulance and us needing to find a rental car to get home since our car was out of commission. Havi took her first and hopefully last ride in the back of a police car, as she waited with me for a tow truck while Jess went with Isla to the hospital.  After finding a rental car, getting a cab from the hospital to the airport to pick it up, and lugging our belongings, carseats and all, throughout the entire process, we finally made it to brunch about four hours later.  Isla still had an enormous cinnamon roll.  It seemed ironic that the one time I was in La Crosse and didn't go to a bar, of which there are many, was the one time I found myself in the back of cop car and inside the Emergency Room.

Luckily our trip to Duluth did not involve in hospital visits or interactions with police officers, just random run-ins with neighbors from down the street and an old college friend we hadn't seen in at least five years, and Jess .  Sure if you venture out you always run the risk of something unpleasant happening, like getting into a car accident or your kid throwing up chocolate milk while you are out to eat.  But staying home has its own risks too, like one of your kids "accidentally" cutting one of his/her siblings with a scissors.  I figure if it's always chaos, sometimes a change of scenery can be nice.  At least you can have a semi-viable excuse for allowing your kids to eat excessive amounts of junk food and stay up too late.  It's vacation!

I also figure at some point the kids will take much more interest in the places you are going.  One of the things we did before we left was check out a book about Duluth from the library.  We looked at pictures and I paraphrased the content, which was a tad heavy on the economic composition of the area.  After seeing pictures of the Aerial Lift Bridge and some of the big ships that come through the port, they could hardly contain their excitement of seeing it in person.  While it might seem pointless now to attempt to expose them to those sorts of things now, I think if you want them to take any interest in traveling as they grow up you have to set the foundation now.  I remember taking a trip to Washington DC when I was about 10, and after we got back our parents actually let us go see "A Few Good Men" because it featured a number of the historic sites we visited while we were there.  It was also the first "R" rated movie I was allowed to watch.

After our trip to Florida we kind of resigned ourselves to the fact that any trips we want to take with the kids for the foreseeable future will have to be somewhere we can feasibly get over a naptime.  While there are a number of international locations on my "to get to" list, it has been kind of nice to think about the cool places even within the state of Minnesota or surrounding states that we haven't yet experienced, or would like to experience with the kids - Duluth and the North Shore being one of them.  Even weekend trips to the Twin Cities have become a "mini-vacations" of trying to do something different that the kids will enjoy (in addition to swimming in the hotel pool).  One of these days we'll get them passports and put them on a plane, something we've yet to brave.  It will be chaos and there will undoubtedly be plentiful tears and Griswold references, but it will be well worth the adventure.  Even if they seem to hate every minute of it.

Now it's your turn.  What's a kid friendly destination that you've really enjoyed?  What crazy stories do you have of traveling with your kids?  Comment below if you would.

               

Notice the scowl on Havi's face even despite the ring pop on her finger.

Of course the small rocks are hot lava.
I suppose they actually might have been a few million years ago.

Where's Isla?  She's sulking in the corner of the photo.

Betty's Pies!
It's vacation....

The close of our La Crosse trip.
They didn't want to leave the ER since they got to watch "Frozen" 

      

*In one book, "How to Fit a Carseat on a Camel", I read about a family who had to retrace a sizable chunk of a road-trip to pick up their young son's imaginary "friend" who had forgotten to get back in the car after a stop at a gas station.  Once they got to the gas station, the son informed his parents that his friend had actually been in the car the entire time, he just didn't see him.

^I lifted this from the saying "any port in the storm"            

Yes, You Can!

Or Maybe You Shouldn't

One of the responses I hear with some frequency when I tell people I am a stay-at-home parent is, "oh, I could never do that."  Or less frequently, but still on occasion, "my spouse (typically husband) could never do that."  When I hear these comments, I usually respond with a lighthearted chuckle knowing that their statement is an excessive exaggeration likely aimed at trying to make me feel better about my current job title on my LinkedIn profile (or lack thereof).  Even our pediatrician once commented to me that she couldn't be a stay-at-home parent, which was a blatant lie.  I would let her stay at our home with our kids any day.

Sure, being a stay-at-home parent can have its fair share of challenges; it requires excessive amounts of patience and a healthy dose of self deprecation to keep you from snapping.  But it's not rocket-science or brain surgery.  Remember that, outside of needing the necessary anatomy and physiology for reproduction, there are no other required prerequisites to having and raising offspring, even though there maybe should be.  While you might not be as good maneuvering in the Grand Caravan as I am, if you are currently a parent or thinking about becoming a parent, I'm pretty certain you could do what I do on a daily basis.*

At least I really hope so.  After hearing the remark from people about their, likely exaggerated, inability to be a stay-at-home parent, I started to wonder if some people actually believed that statement to be true for themselves.  That was when I began to get a little worried, especially considering the number of current parents who made that comment to me.  I've decided that if you truly don't think, under any circumstances, you could ever be a stay-at-home parent, you're not ready to be a parent period.  A few weeks ago, I was asked by a couple who has contemplated starting a family when I felt I was ready to have kids, and I didn't have a good answer for them - especially considering how we started our own family somewhat unexpectedly.  This notion has given me a definitive answer on when I think people are ready.

Not that I think everyone should be a stay-at-home parent or even feel "called" to be a stay-at-home parent.  There are certainly households that function better and are probably happier with the parents working and kids going to a high quality daycare.  I felt as though that was our situation before we added number three.  But life has a tendency of throwing you more curveballs than Tim Lincecum, and at some point, the circumstances of your life might necessitate, or just make more sense, for you to be a stay-at-home parent.  This can be the case for a whole host of reasons - child illness, job layoff, relocation, something, good or bad, affecting your spouse, etc.  If, even under those situations likely out of your control, you could never see yourself being a stay-at-home parent, even temporarily, I don't think you're ready to be a parent.

Becoming a parent doesn't mean that you need to put all other aspects of your life on hold or give up everything you've worked so hard to achieve from a career standpoint to focus solely on the adorable little monster you've created.  Yes, work-life balance can become even more challenging with children, but millions of people figure out how to make it work.  However, when starting a family and adding other human beings to the mix, you inevitably increase the likelihood that something beyond your control will come up that will have a significant impact on your life.  Becoming a parent means that you have to be ready to put all other aspects of your life on hold should the circumstances warrant it - mother or father.  To drop everything and deal with any shit that has hit the fan - usually figuratively, sometimes literally.

Andrew Moravcsik, a political science professor at Princeton University, contributed a great article for the October edition of The Atlantic, entitled "Why I Put My Wife's Career First".  It his article, which was a follow-up to an (also great) article his wife, a former State Department official, wrote a few years ago, Dr. Moravcsik cites research that given the "nearly impossible expectations....for ambitious young people planning two-career marriages" and increasing number of young professionals are opting to not have children all together. That is certainly one way to go, and sometimes it is those people who decide not to have children who would make terrific parents, stay-at-home or working.

Personally, I see this first hand with my sister and brother-in-law.  They have made a conscious decision, despite the fact that I think they would both be phenomenal parents, to not have children.  They haven't necessarily done this to pursue high-powered careers, as both of their professions are very family-friendly, or because they are kid averse, as they love spending time with their nieces and nephews.  They've decided that the life they've created is what they want it to be and expanding their immediate family is not of interest to them.  Certainly some people see this as a selfish move, but I actually feel it is the opposite.  Because starting a family and having kids is the prevailing norm in our society, I believe it takes more thought and more self actualization to realize that not having kids won't leave you feeling unfulfilled.  While the actual operation of parenting is much tougher (to say nothing of the labor and delivery for the female), I see making the decision to not be a parent as a more challenging one.    

So when people tell me that they "couldn't be a stay-at-home parent", I feel the urge to respond with, "Yes, you can!"  But if you don't already have kids, and honestly don't think you could ever be a stay-at-home parent, I wouldn't recommend becoming a parent to begin with.  If you do already have kids, and honestly don't think you could ever, under any circumstances, be a stay-at-home parent, I hope your spouse vehemently disagrees.

"Yeah, you don't know how it feels."

It can get a little taxing when you're
carrying around some additional weight.  

Seriously though, it's not that tough.

*I actually have significant prior experience with a Grand Caravan, as I drove one for the better part of my Senior Year of high school.  Don't get discouraged, practice makes perfect.