What I Really Learned in College

How My "Overpriced" Education Helped Me Become a Stay-At-Home Dad

It's mid-May, which means it's commencement time for the 4,500+ college and universities in the United States.  Two weeks ago, my alma mater celebrated their commencement ceremonies for the Class of 2015, marking ten years since I completed my own undergraduate studies.  It also marked only the second time since 2002 that I was not present at a college commencement ceremony, either as a graduate or assisting with the execution of the event.  Ironically, that Friday, as many of Minnesota's colleges and universities were busily preparing for their own institution's commencement exercises, the Friday Roundtable discussion on MPR featured three college presidents discussing the future of college and their reaction to a recently released book entitled The End of College.  I was able to catch a few minutes of the discussion as we were en-route to the grocery store (for the third time that week).  

Having worked almost exclusively in higher ed since completing my own years as a student, I tend to follow the commentary and analysis on the current state of higher education in America.  If you work/worked in higher ed, have kids in school, or are getting ready to send kids off to college, it's hard not to.  With tuition rates increasing at astronomical rates, much of the narrative has centered around affordability, access and outcome, often posing the question if a college degree is really "worth it" anymore.  Being a product of one of Minnesota's private, liberal arts colleges, and having spent a number of years working in higher ed until my "retirement" last fall, I'll be the first to admit that my view is incredibly biased.  I've drunk the Kool-Aid.  Read-on with that disclaimer if you'd like, as I share why I think my college education was instrumental in my decision to become a stay-at-home parent.

During my last few months on the job before my retirement, I was able to have a lot of candid conversations with some of the student employees that worked in our office, especially the six seniors.  Four of them had started working with our office as first-year students and the other two started as sophomores, so I had a unique opportunity to watch them transform throughout the course of their college years.  I really enjoyed our conversations, as I knew they were in a place similar to where I was ten years prior.  Apprehensive about the future, wondering if I would get a job I liked, or a job at all, after graduating.  Wondering how to make sense of the past four years and how that experience made me a marketable employment prospect.  I could tell that they were both excited and nervous about the future held in store for them.

They were also pretty curious about what I thought the future held in store for me, as I would be leaving my job before they finished their senior year, for a new, and somewhat unknown adventure.  And since I had essentially attended the same school as they did we seemed to be in similar circumstances.  They were leaving college to find their way, most likely by getting a job, while I was making probably my biggest career decision ever - leaving mine to stay home with our growing family.  During each conversation, I told those students that I truly believed it was the educational experience I received, one that was very similar to their own, one that I was still making healthy, monthly loan repayments for, one that some may deem "overpriced" and "not worth it", that best prepared me to make the decision to voluntarily leave a paid job that I enjoyed and become a stay-at-home dad.

I told them that what my education provided me, above anything else, was the opportunity to create my own definition of success.  It was the individual-oriented, whole-life development experience that I had, which was a byproduct of the close friendships and the authentic personal & professional mentors I was able to develop.  This education showed me how to examine my life and decided ultimately what was important to me.  It help me objectively ask the important questions like, "what the hell am I doing, and is it what I want to be spending all of my time on?"  It gave me the background to answer those questions in a thoughtful and educated manner, and ultimately decide it was personally time for a change, even if that meant forgoing a paycheck.

This was not by chance either, but more by design, as the college I attended describes itself as a place that emphasizes "leadership and a personal development profile that includes intellectual, spiritual, emotional and physical development."  No doubt a lot of colleges and universities use a similar tagline to promote their institutions, but I feel the education I received really lives up to that.  In the most recent alumni magazine I received, the current President, also an alum (and an economist), opines that the education one receives at our alma mater is "as much about the formation of character and the search for meaning as about academics", providing "a solid foundation to help young men seeking to develop their moral understanding and find meaning in their lives."  

Am I realizing the maximum economic potential of my degree?  Absolutely not (I probably wasn't even when I was working).   When we/I (depending which story you follow) decided to have one of us stay at home, it was a bad financial decision from a strictly dollars and sense standpoint, even after considering the cost of daycare.  I once read a great quote (pretty certain it was in Bill Bishop's The Big Sort) that I'll paraphrase because for the life of me, I can't seem to find it again. The quote suggested that one of the great things about receiving an education is knowing what luxuries you can afford to live without (or something like that).  When I stopped working, we had to make financial adjustments to figure out how to make it all work.  But I definitely believe our education helped us navigate this aspect in a way that we felt comfortable with, even if I did get one of my worst grades of my college career in Econ 101.

Does my alma mater care that I'm not a high-powered executive, pulling six figures?  No.  One of the biggest things they are concerned about, and that they promote to prospective students (and parents) is if I would rate my college experience highly (which I do) and if I am satisfied with where my education has gotten me (which I am).  Sure, the Development Office may wish I made a little more so I could up the very modest donations I make to the annual fund, but overall they likely see me as a successful product of the institution.  Though I doubt they'll start using me for an sort of Admissions marketing campaign - "come to school here, and you too can be a stay-at-home parent."      

Could I have gotten a similar experience at a different institution?  Maybe, but I feel like the personal nature of a liberal arts education best prepared me for the daily challenges of life, and not just a career.  I was a very mediocre good student.  I graduated with honors, but the lowest level of honors you can graduate with.  At a larger school, with larger classes and much more onus on students navigating their own way with less guidance, I'm sure I easily could have slid through with minimal effort.  However, I'm pretty certain I wouldn't have done as well academically and definitely wouldn't have been forced to challenge my own personal and intellectual development.  I often comment that I didn't entirely possess the ability to think critically until my second year of college.  It was the various mentors; faculty, supervisors, and other administrators, and fellow classmates and friends that helped bring this capacity out of me.

It's also been these mentors, colleagues, and friends, most of who have had an educational experience like mine, that have been incredibly supportive of my decision to become a stay-at-home parent.  Not once have I heard a comment suggesting that this will negatively impact my career, which undoubtedly it will.  Nor has anyone questioned why, after spending six years in college and getting two degrees, I would chose to leave the workforce.  Not even my parents, who provided me massive amounts of emotional support and equally significant financial support during my college years, have wondered what they did wrong (openly to me at least).  They all get it, and some have told me that they are a little jealous.  They know it was not a decision that was made in haste and without a sizable amount of thought; pros and cons lists, cost benefit analysis, risk valuation, etc.  No doubt it was a relatively unconventional decision.  But as I told my Dad, it was both the hardest decision to make and the easiest decision to make.  He responded by telling me that he had a ton of admiration for my decision.

So when I was filling in for an event a couple of weeks ago and a current student I had just met asked me if I was using my degree, I didn't hesitate to tell her that I did everyday.  Maybe not in the traditional aspect of the content of what I learned in my classes, but with the myriad of life skills that I learned through those transformative experiences I had while in college, which included my classes.  Had I known nearly ten years after finishing undergrad that my life would lead me to be a stay-at-home dad, instead of majoring in Political Science I should have double-majored in Elementary Education (with a double emphasis in Foreign Language and Music) and Psychology (pediatric emphasis), and minored in Art, Accounting, Nursing, Nutrition, Peace Studies, Sociology, and Theater - seems like a manageable load.  I also probably should have taken some night classes in Culinary Arts at the Tech College.  My kids don't care that I understand Plato's "Allegory of the Cave" and understanding it doesn't make me a better parent.  But I don't think that's the point.  In my opinion, the point of an education like the one I received is to challenge you to live an engaged and thoughtful life.  To question what is important to you and where you find fulfillment.  To have the bravery and courage to put those things first in your life.

In her commencement address to the College of Saint Benedict Class of 2015, the class that included those six seniors I got to know so well, activist/author Valerie Kaur told the 475 women about to receive their diplomas that; "You are brave.  You just need to believe in your own calling - wherever it leads you after graduation."  Her comments could have easily been directed to me, or any of us, when she asked; "Who is calling you?  Whose calling will you become?"  My kids are calling me.  No seriously, I think all three of them are currently crying, so I should probably wrap this up.  I think my education, as "overpriced" as it might have been, has helped me hear them better (figuratively, of course).  Seeing as I haven't thrown in a musical reference yet, I should probably close with one, and this one seems to work seeing as Pitch Perfect 2 just came out last week.  To quote Jessie J. (yes, Jessie J.), "it's not about the money......we just wanna make the world dance, forget about the price tag."  My world dances everyday, and not just because of the almost daily dance parties that get held in our home.  It's tough to put a price on that.

One of my all time favorite photos.
My roommates from senior year of college after our commencement ceremony.

After graduation, these guys went on to do amazing things like:
teach English in China, get a law degree, work international assignments in India and Hong Kong at senior level positions for one of MN's largest companies, travel extensively in Asia, teach on one of the poorest Indian reservations through TFA, get a Master's Degree from USC, oversee the New Mexico Department of Education

Until now, I felt like I had done nothing to compare to their accomplishments.
 

               

   

FML...

...A

My wife has been back at work for just over three weeks now, so the kids are under my (questionably) responsible care for most of their day.  I'll divulge more of how it's going in a week or two.  I figure I'd let the dust settle a little bit first, if that is even possible.  Since Jess is back at work, I actually wanted to reflect on the time we all had at home together while she was on maternity leave.  If you've just welcomed a newborn into your world, planning on welcoming a newborn in the near future, or if you just like to follow modern parenting topics, you're probably aware that maternity/paternity/parental leave is kind of a hot button issue.  I figured I'd offer up my thoughts and opinions, since that is essentially what you are supposed to do with a blog, right?   

Jess took 16 weeks of maternity leave with Gus, the same amount she took after Havi was born (she took 12 weeks with Isla).  This time around was remarkably different though because we were all home the entire time.  When Havi was born, Isla was still in daycare, so when we felt the urge we could always send Isla there to relieve us of having two kids at home to tend to.  Not the case with Gus, as both girls had been home with me for almost two months at that point.  We had a newborn, a terrible two-er, and a four-going-on-fourteen year-old - a tantalizing recipe for multiple disasters.  It was incredible to have that amount of family time together though, and it started to feel like it was perpetually Saturday at our house for a while.  As much as we felt occasionally guilty about this, we recognized that this would likely (hopefully) be the last time we experience something like this and figured we should take advantage.

It was under the Family Medical Leave Act (FMLA) that Jess was allowed to take unpaid time off following each birth without fear of losing her job (the law also covers other medical reasons, like caring for an ailing family member).  If you follow modern parenting topics, you're likely well aware that the United States is the only developed country (aka non-3rd world) that does not provide or mandate paid time off for parents following the birth of a child; this groups us with the likes of Suriname, the Marshall Islands and a few other countries most people can't identify on a map. One of the reasons Jess started working part-time from home during all of her maternity leaves, was that she received no paid "maternity" or "parental" leave from her employer.  To help cover about half of the lost income during her maternity leave, along with working part-time from home, she exhausted her vacation and sick leave and borrowed future sick leave (she won't be able to take a sick day until next year).  

She was definitely not alone in this experience.  In 2013, the Bureau of Labor Services estimated that only 13% of workers in the US had access to paid family leave through their employer.  Also interesting, and relatively disheartening to note, is that the benefits of taking time off under the FMLA (even if it is unpaid), only apply to just over half of the U.S. workforce.  I would venture a guess that the ones who don't qualify to take time off under FMLA are probably the ones who could most benefit from it.  To contrast, I was one of those fortunate few who received paid time off, getting four weeks of parental leave from my employer when both Isla & Havi were born - a benefit given to either a female parent or a male parent following the birth of a child.  Had I been smart about things (and kind of a jerk), I should have kept working there until Gus was born, taking my paid parental leave and then "retiring" when it was time for me to go back.

When I returned to work after my time off after Havi was born, I made a point to contact our HR Director to express my gratitude for the parental leave benefit.  I knew she hadn't personally developed the policy, and it had been around for a number of years, but I felt the need to thank someone for allowing me to take that much needed time off (and keeping me on the payroll at the same time).  I hoped that she might share my gratitude with other senior administrators to get a first hand sense of what the benefit had provided one of the institutions employees.  One of the most eye-opening realizations for me when we had kids was how much undivided time they consume, especially as newborns.  It was great to have this opportunity to spend a substantial amount of time just being with our newborn children without needing to worry about what was going on at work or how we were going to make ends meet financially.

The data obviously suggest this is not a luxury that a lot of parents have, especially dads.  When I was off on parental leave following Havi's birth, I took advantage of the time off by scheduling a regular dental visit.  During my obligatory chit-chat with the dental hygienist, it came up that I was currently off on parental leave following a new addition to our family.  The hygienist commented on how lucky I was, mentioning that her husband was back at work before she even left the hospital following her births.  As I pondered her statement, I couldn't help but think about the environment that those kids were being born into.  A different time and a different circumstance, but my Dad even had to get back to the farm and chores shortly after I was born.  From what I've experienced firsthand, childbirth is an incredibly amazing and exhilarating experience, but it is also very stressful and emotionally and physically exhausting.  And of course it can be insanely painful for the mother.  I can't imagine how much more challenging this might be for a new mother if her spouse or partner has very limited time to be present because he or she has to return to work.  Even harder to grasp what single mothers must feel.

Given my bleeding-heart liberal views, you'd think my opinion would obviously be for the government to provide paid parental leave (at least for mothers) or mandate that employers do so for their employees.  Yes, I think it is critically important that parents, both parents, take a substantial amount of time off once a new baby is born.  I believe this is an essential part of creating a strong bond between the parents and their newly born child.  I know that having the opportunity to have that undivided time with our children has helped me grow and better understand my role as a parent, and I believe it created a better environment to foster love and support for our children.

But, I get it.  My wife works for the Federal Government, with it's seemingly bazillion employees (if you follow conservative punditry).  To grant them all a paid parental leave would be absurdly expensive, and we, the taxpayers, would be footing the bill.  I also understand that by my former employer providing me paid parental leave, they undoubtedly had to cut back on other benefits within my compensation package - most likely my actual compensation.  After returning from my leave with Havi, a childless colleague joked that she felt she should have a child just to get the paid time off.  I politely told her I would strongly advise against that.    

Having kids is a huge responsibility.  It is also a huge financial obligation (okay, maybe not the right wording there, but you get the point), especially pending what type of health insurance you have.  In an ideal world, we would have all expectant parents be at a place where they have attained a certain level of emotional maturity and financial stability.  Unfortunately, I don't think we can require a certain amount of cash in the bank before allowing people to conceive.  In one of his performance monologues, artist Kip Fulbeck remarks that he, "wants to live in a world where you have to pass a test to have kids."  While I don't believe this would ever fly in the good ol' U.S. of A., where freedom rings; it is an interesting theory to think about, considering anyone can procreate as long as their necessary anatomical parts function properly.  There are at least a minimum set of requirements for nearly every other human endeavor - getting a job, driving a car, serving in the military, owning a home, voting.  Having and raising a child seems to be the exception.  But how can we infringe on the right to bear children?  That's only something that would happen in one of those socialist Scandinavian countries.

Speaking of, someone who currently lives in one of those countries posted a link to this article about a photo-series entitled, Swedish Dads.  The project is a series of images and reflections from, yep, you guessed it, Swedish Dads about the benefits of their country's insanely generous parental leave policy - 480 day of leave while receiving a stipend from the state; 60 of which must be taken by the father.  The comments about the importance of spending a significant amount of dedicated time with your new child as a father are not only spoken in Swedish (safe assumption those dudes speak pretty good English too), but also echoed in studies conducted among American dads as well.  A study done by Boston College concluded that "early, more intense engagement in parenting for men has positive long-term effects for father and child, and mother as well."  Another report argued that paid parental leave for fathers may help promote gender equality for women.

I couldn't help but notice the sanctimonious poignancy of US Senator and Republican Presidential Candidate Rand Paul's comments a few weeks ago about the events that had taken place recently in Baltimore; citing some of the causes for the unrest as the "breakdown of the family structure" and the "lack of fathers".  Obviously paid parental leave wouldn't be the cure for all of our societal ills, but it does seem a bit bizarre (read: ass-backwards) that our society doesn't seem to provide the necessary support for the family structure at arguably its most critical juncture.  One can wonder if we would spend less on policing things that may have occurred because of the "breakdown of the family structure" if we invested a little bit at the start of that family structure to ensure it started on the right foot.  Although I don't see Senator Paul, or many of his colleagues, lining up to the support the President's proposal for paid family leave.  It often amazes me, not it a good way, how our country can claim to be founded on family values but develop public policy that seems to directly contradict that.        

So where does that leave us?  Personally, I think it has to be a multi-faceted approach.  Yes, it is great that some employers offer very generous paid parental leave benefits, but I don't believe that needs to fall on them (just like I don't believe employer sponsored health insurance or retirement plans should exist, but that's another topic).  This would be an impossible financial obligation for a lot of employers, especially small businesses.  It was a tongue-in-cheek comment by my colleague, but it can be seen as an unfair benefit for those who do not and choose not to have kids.  And what about those people who don't work outside the home and choose to stay home with their kids.  Aren't they essentially doing what a working parent is doing during his/her parental leave without receiving any sort of financial compensation?  I think it's a nice plus and recruiting tool when employers offer this benefit, but it can also create additional disparity between those employees who could afford to go without the benefit, and those who would likely benefit from it more.

Yes, I believe that the government has some responsibility to promote this.  Of course there are tax credits for having kids and the like, but I don't think we should be financially-incentivizing people to have kids.  We should be encouraging them to raise well adjusted children in a healthy family environment.  In numerous countries, there are income replacement stipends subsidized by the government for a portion of a worker's salary.  But this still alienates those who choose not to work outside the home.  In other countries, like Finland, parents receive a direct stipend following the birth of a child.  The most progressive benefit, but again, someone has to pay for this, and Finland, like its Scandinavian & European counterparts, has one of the highest tax rates in the world.  I do believe though, that in the $3.5 trillion Federal Government budget, some money could be set aside to provide financial assistance for new parents.  Again, maybe if more was invested up front, we'd be investing less elsewhere in programs and services, and wondering why our "family structure" and family values are in such disarray.

Ultimately though, it's up to us, as a society and especially those of us who are parents, to recognize the magnitude of responsibility that comes with parenthood, and ensure that our own actions match that belief.  We just celebrated Mother's Day this past weekend, and will celebrate Father's Day in about a month.  Most of us probably think we need to celebrate mothers and fathers year-round instead of trying to cram it all into one day, but what do we actually do to make this happen (I'm guilty of this as well).  Most of us are also probably familiar with the Forest Witcraft quote, and we love to broadcast it in frames at our offices or homes.  But how many of us actually take that quote to heart?  When I decided to stay home with my kids, I felt that was me doing my part to actually act on that sentiment.  By no means am I implying that if you don't do exactly what I do or did (like taking a substantial amount of time off when your kids are born or be a stay at home parent), you will be a bad parent and won't love your kids as much as I love my own.  I just know that for me, personally, having had that opportunity to spend as much time with my kids as I was following their births, and as I am able to today, I've become more of the parent I want to be and now better understand what is important in getting me to that point.  Be the parent you want to be.  Be the person you want to be, not what you think society wants you to be.       

There Will Be Poop

One of the great, and unavoidable, experiences you get to have as a parent is the joy of teaching your kid(s), or coaching them through, how to use the toilet.  When our first two kids were girls, I assumed this was a task I could leave to my wife.  What did I know about the female urinary tract that could provide beneficial in helping our girls master the process of toilet training?  I figured I'd just be doing more harm than good.  Well, I guess it's a team effort, and with our addition of a boy, and boys supposedly being harder to potty train than girls, I am not very interested in tackling Gus' toilet training solo.

Potty training is one of those parenting enigmas, like getting your kids to sleep, getting them to eat (something, anything), and being an overall enjoyable human being to be around - minimum tantrums and crying and general respectable behavior.  You can spend a shitload (pun intended) of time working on trying to get your kid to use the big girl/boy potty.  You can read thousands of books on it.  Amazon devotes and entire section to toilet training literature, with my personal favorite being Everyone Poops.  You can watch videos and get informational materials from your pediatric clinic.  If you happen to send your kids to the Inland Vineyard Preschool, which kind of sounds like a winery, you can actually have your kid be in a "potty training class".  The website notes that once your child is potty-trained, your tuition decreases.  Now there's an incentive!

I love hearing about the unique cultural and generational approaches to potty training.  One of my college roommates spent some time in China after college, and he would love to tell us about the ancient Chinese approach to potty training still used today.  It includes crotchless pants and whistling into the baby's ear in effort to get them to go on command.  I've also seen (black and white) pictures of my dad as a young child wearing a dress outside - alleviated the need for a diaper, my Grandma informed me.  Pure genius.  We contemplated cloth diapers for our kids for about 5 seconds.  But I've heard that a changing of a cloth diaper typically requires an entire outfit change, so with the additional laundry you end up doing (including the diapers), it's almost a push from a environmentally-conscious standpoint.  We opted for sanity over saving any green, the earth or our money.

We've taken the more laissez-faire approach to potty-training our two girls.  We figured we'd encourage them to go, but not stress about it, and when they were ready, they'd be ready.  Luckily, Havi, our 2.33 (repeating) year-old, decided she was ready about a month ago.  They often say that potty training a second child is easier than the first, especially if they are the same gender.  I think we lucked out in that regard as she was a few months earlier than her older sister, who figured out how to use the big girl potty when she was 2.66 (repeating) years old.  We also managed to make things additionally interesting when we optimally decided we wanted to throw our full energy at potty-training.  The weekend Havi was trained, she was battling a cold.  The weekend we trained Isla, we also decided it was time to take away her beloved pacifier.  Go big or go home I guess.

When you think about potty training, it's really an amazing and baffling prospect.  Imagine if you could not control your excremental bodily functions or had the cognitive ability to recognize your urges to go.  It seems like it should be such an innate skill that you develop, and after almost 30 years of doing it on a daily basis, it's hard to imagine developing another other type of routine.  Unless of course if you happen to be that "urban myth" of a person who wore adult diapers at WE Fest so you could relieve yourself at will without missing any Brooks & Dunn.  People often make the comment about coming full circle with the need to wear diapers from infants to the elderly.  Personally, I'm undecided if I want to live long enough to experience it first hand.  
 
I like to paradox potty training with another physiological phenomenon that also starts with the letter "P" and essentially every young child learns how to do at some point - picking your nose.  Based on my unscientific observations, picking your nose must be one of the most instinctive behaviors for a child to pick up; along with the ability to throw massive tantrums and whine incessantly.  Think about it; child feels the the urge to pick his/her nose, and recognizes that he/she has the utility to go about acting on that urge.  Their finger is identified as an instrument that can be used to retrieve the small mass of nasal mucus (medical terminology for booger), and they usually find a spot for disposal, i.e, their mouth.  I'm in awe of how kids learn how to do this.  Is it unreasonable to expect that they should naturally figure out how to go to the bathroom in a socially acceptable manner?

In some ways, having potty trained kids is obviously a plus.  You don't have to worry about dipping into your 401k to purchase diapers (or spend hours trying to rinse out the reusable ones).  The instances are greatly decreased of experiencing a diaper change in which your child requires immediate attention from a pressure washer. 
  

What's My Age Again?

Old Man Take A Look At (Your) Life.......

My apologies for the delay on this blog post.  I was out of the office for a few days a couple of weeks ago and have been trying to get caught up.  You know, clearing out the email inbox, responding to messages, changing diapers - pretty standard stuff.  Excuses, I know, but I took a five-day - yes, five day - kid and spouse-free vacation.  Something relatively unheard of for a parent with three kids under five, except if they are probably traveling for work, which I most certainly was not.  My wife; who, I should point out, is amazing, reluctantly (and rightfully so), granted me five days for a ski-trip and related shenanigans with some college buddies.  She said I deserved it, and seeing as she will be returning to work full-time in a few weeks, after exhausting all of her own vacation (and sick) time to support us financially during maternity leave, this was likely my only (and probably last for the foreseeable future) opportunity to do anything of the sort.  Yeah, she's f#&$ing amazing.

She also allowed me to go over my birthday weekend, which was another sign of true selflessness.  When you get married and have kids, your birthdays become a mix of exciting and great, but relatively tame adventures with the family, or surprise birthday parties orchestrated by your spouse - usually just for the big ones.  I had a big one two years ago, with a cleverly orchestrated surprise party, so this year was "just another birthday".  The guys I went with didn't even realize it was my birthday until I started receiving an excessive amount of phone calls and text messages on that particular Saturday morning.  The weekend proposed happened work out the best for all involved with the trip, so ultimately we decided on that particular weekend.  Jess told me to go and have fun, but not too much fun, and come back in one piece.  Isla said they'd save a piece of cake for me.

Having worked in higher ed for a number of years, I often commented that when I got together with my college buddies, I never felt that far removed from college.  It was when I interacted with the current college students that I recognized that there was a decade difference between myself and them.  I remember having a lunch conversation with a student that worked in our office, after I had seen him out running the day prior in a cut-off t-shirt and baggy gym shorts, that I started to understand the various indicators that clued me into the fact that I was now old.

1. I gradually purged every sleeveless shirt from my wardrobe, and actually started working out in long-sleeves shorts in effort to get a better sweat in and try to combat my slowing metabolism.  This increase in sleeve length directly coincided with a decrease in shorts length, as my over-sized, baggy shorts (like the student was wearing) shrunk to a more "running suitable" 5-inch inseam.  

2. I started to listen to "public news radio" all the time.  When I'd find myself in the car listening to MPR, I'd often laugh at myself.  "What are you doing?  You're not 60!"  I'd rhetorically scoff as I'd scan the airwaves for some Top 40 hits.  Inevitably though, the dial would always somehow find it's way back to "A Prairie Home Companion".  I knew it was bad when I started recognizing the voices of the various reporters before they would even say their name.

3. More and more I recognized how good it felt to wake-up on a weekend after a full night of sleep (8 or more hours) at a respectable time (like 8am) and have this thing called an "entire morning" to be productive.  Of course, having three kids, I haven't had a full nights sleep in the last four years.  But someday it will hopefully return, and then we'll get back to having those "nice little Saturdays."  Head to The Home Depot, maybe Bed Bath & Beyond (if we have enough time).

4. I started to see the relative hypocrisy in my words and actions toward the "kids these days".  This was especially apparent when I worked at a college and would have to reprimand students for behavior I may have displayed myself when I was their age.  At first, I had a tendency to let things slide.  I was their age once, what was the big deal?  But then I realized that if someone didn't assume the role of  "the man", these punk kids would sail through live without having any authority to actually challenge.  Someone had to "hate the fun" from time to time, and I was just doing my civic duty.

5.  I've developed a better ability to know when I've had enough, most notably in reference to intoxicating beverages.  Recognition of intoxication follows three paradigms:
1. Not understanding that there is a line of intoxication you should avoid crossing.
2. Understanding that there is a line you should avoid crossing, but still having a tendency to cross that line - either by tiptoeing across ever so slightly or pole vaulting yourself across.
3. Understanding that there is a line and becoming pretty adept at remaining on the "head-not-in toilet" side of said line.

As I've aged, I've found myself more often in the third paradigm, and better know when call it quits.  Please note though that we all have our fleeting moments, and I've had a few since I've entered "older-land".  My favorite was probably a few years ago at a good friends going away party.  I commented to the only other dad of the group that we would likely be the "responsible drunks" of the bunch.  I think the opposite turned out to be true, and one of us actually needed to take a "sick day" on Monday to continue to recover following a Saturday fiesta (I'll let you guess which one).      

6. I've started to hurt in places originally unknown on my body for inexplicable reasons.  Just a few short years ago I gave no thought to bodily aches and pains, because I seldom had any or I could easily explain them (too much vodka led to too much dancing, etc.).  Not the case now.  The mere act of getting out of bed seems to carry the risk of herniating a disc or tearing an ACL.  Better get signed up for those low-impact water aerobics.
    

With this trip I think I realized that even when I get together with my college friends, I still feel old.  We orchestrated a similar adventure seven years prior, and this particular one was markedly different.  We were definitely all ready to cut loose (for our own individual reasons), but the looseness of our cutting definitely wasn't as loose this time around.  Sure our supplies from the grocery store included frozen pizzas and a cube of Miller Lite.  But it also included "cage-free" eggs, organic bacon, Clif Bars, and pine nuts.  The frozen pizzas actually went uneaten, and despite only buy one cube, there were a few Miller Lites left when every was said and done.  We popped NSAIDs preemptively in anticipation of aching muscles, as opposed to re-actively from splitting hangover headaches.  I'm pretty certain we turned in before midnight every night, which resulted in no ill-advised (but tasty) early morning Mexican food, nor us playing a role in any major retail stores not opening at the appropriate times the following morning.  We actually utilized the shower facilities at our accommodations, something unfathomable seven years ago.    

Our own slope antics also seemed to follow a similar suit.  Our eagerness to "shred the gnar" (mountain lingo) from first chair to last chair was drastically decreased, despite the fact that each morning we were up with more than enough time to make first chair.  We had morning phone call/Skype check-ins with spouses and kids that needed to be taken care of, and you can't rush that organic bacon.  One of our compatriots actually defined his approach to skiing one day as "risk averse".  Words that likely would never have entered our lexicon on previous trips when we were shotgunning beers at the top of the mountain before hurtling ourselves off 20 foot kickers (okay, bit of an exaggeration).  We steered clear of the double-blacks (actually the single blacks too) and the trees, and this time (most) all of us even wore helmets.  The only time we went off piste was to the Bavarian bar located 50 feet from the backside lift for large German beers, and in my case, a crisp, refreshing glass of Riesling.

They often say "you are only as old as you feel", and I've started to wonder if you hit a point where you start to feel as old as you actually are.  At the close of our trip, some of us found ourselves at a bar enjoying a few cocktails; Manhattans of course (since we're so Don Draper).  At some point the conversation actually turned into a observation about how much gray permeates my facial hair after a few days of not shaving.  This morphed into a discussion on the genetics male-patterned baldness, and whether or not there is scientific proof that it follows the maternal side of lineage.  One in our group, who currently sports a ponytail that pushed forward makes him very reminiscent of Kurt Cobain, was not completely sold on the findings.  It was a riveting conversation.

The irony was not lost on me when Jay-Z's "Young Forever" kicked off my playlist as we took our first lift up the mountain.  As much as we'd all probably like to "live life like a video" the way Mr. Carter describes, where among other things "you never get old".  Unfortunately we all know physiologically this is impossible.  You can't stop time, and as much as Rod Stewart, Bob Dylan, Jay-Z, and Revlon try to convince us otherwise we can't stay forever young, or even look like we are doing so.  The advice I've actually taken the HOVA's rework of the 1984 Alphaville classic comes from the second verse, when he calls us to; "fear not when; fear not why; fear not much while we're alive.  Life is for living not living uptight."  A call to live in the moment, which ultimately means embracing your inevitable aging, or maturity as I like to say.

When I got back from my vacation, everyone asked me if I had a good time.  And I did.  It was different than previous trips like it that I've been on, but it was great for its own reasons.  And one of those reasons was definitely the excitement of coming home, especially with our house being as robust as it now is.  It was great to get away, and I think it is important to take those breaks occasionally; from your kids, from your spouse, from the routine of your everyday life.  Because when you do, there is always that excitement of coming home.  As excited as I was to go, and I was really excited to go, I was just as excited to get back when the trip was over.  I knew that when I walked in the door, I'd have two little girls running excitedly at me with open arms, a loving wife ready to give me a welcome home kiss (even before I shaved), and a not-so-little baby boy who would likely spit-up all over me as soon as I picked him up (we think it's how he shows affection and excitement).  A king's welcome?  Absolutely.

Nothing like a refreshing glass of Riesling after a long day on the mountain.   

Contrast to 2008.

               

                              

Why Being a Stay At Home Dad Is Good For My Daughters (And My Son)

In an earlier post, I commented that I would address the issue of why being a stay-at-home dad is not an emasculating experience for me.  Considering my most recent post (if you were one that chose to read it), I figured this might be a good time to come back to it.  I also recently read a couple of articles that I thought complimented the topic and would be worth sharing/commenting on.  Lastly, March also happens to be Women's History Month, and some of this post might seem as though I'm heaping a lot of compliments on the female gender.  I will refrain from not saying that is not unintentional (unpack that grammatically incorrect statement).  Please note that I am not doing this to impress my wife.  I'm actually doing it to impress her friends, because as Brian Kelms points out, the better you look to your wife's friends, the more attractive you look to your wife.  

The first article I read was about why being a working mom is good for your kids, and it was shared via social media by a high school classmate of mine.  She is a successful attorney, and with her husband, welcomed their first little one last year.  I'm certain that as the time approached for her to return to work, she likely wrestled with a lot of the same questions and concerns that probably almost every working mom struggles with - to return to work or stay-home.  The article claims "scientific reasons to be a working mom" by citing some studies that seem to support that fact.  I'm sure you could find a number of articles that claim "scientific reasons to be a stay-at-home mom", but since we live in a society where mothers with children under six years old have the lowest labor participation rate, I found this particular article interesting.

The other article I read was about how a man took the lessons he learned being a clerk for a Supreme Court Justice (a pretty serious gig for anyone in the legal profession) to being a stay at home dad immediately following his clerkship (and having probably just as demanding of a boss).  This one was forwarded my way from a good friend who read it and thought of me (Thanks, Katie!).  This article has a ton of great content and really good stats, which I won't regurgitate here.  But I will point out Mr. Park's observation of the novelty of his decision, and subsequently my decision, to be a stay-at-home dad.  He points out that despite the number of stay-at-home dads nearly doubling over the last two decades, only 21% of stay-at-home dads claim they actually made the decision to stay home with the kids because they wanted to, as opposed to 73% of stay-at-home moms.  Only 3% of the almost 2 million stay-at-home dads have a college degree.  That was him, and that's me (I'll discuss in a later post how I feel my college degree actually helped me make the decision to be a stay-at-home parent).  I also happen to live in relatively conservative Central Minnesota, in a congressional district that elected, and re-elected three additional times, Michele Bachmann to represent its constituents.  Not really a bastion of progressive ideology like New York City, DC (where Mr. Park resides) or even Minneapolis-St. Paul, so I'm thinking I'm kind of an anomaly around these parts.

That's okay though, I've never considered myself to be much of a "manly" man by prevailing societal stereotypes.  In fact, throughout most of my life I've been in the gender minority.  After my parents separated, I spent most of my adolescence with my mom and older sister, which undoubtedly played a significant role in my development.  My wife was the second of four girls in her family and had no brothers.  Sure, I went to an all-male college, but it was partnered with an all-women's college just down the road, where I actually had my student employment position (as the only male in the office).  I returned to work at this all-women's college, (where I was still the only male in the office), five years ago before I left to stay at home with our kids.  I've been in the gender minority for almost every single job I've had.  Going into the ultrasounds for our first two kids, I knew we had to be having girls.  My entire life up to that point had been filled with women and copious amounts of estrogen.  I often joked that if we had a boy, I'd have no idea what to do.

This is not to say that I didn't have close relationships with other men or male role models growing up.  My ring finger is longer than my index, and I can also grow some pretty healthy facial hair, so I'm thinking my testosterone levels are probably adequate.  I've just never seemed to be drawn toward things that are often considered stereo-typically "male" - I never played football (I actually played volleyball in college); I don't drink beer (but I will consume most any whiskey, except scotch - that stuff is terrible), my collection of tools (or "utensils" as you may have heard me reference them before) is minute; and I've never fired a gun.  Ever.  The only time I've ever been in a fistfight was in high school, and it was my best friend and staged (likely in attempt to prove our "manliness" - he was and still is considerably more manly than me).  If "The Man Show" was still airing, I doubt I'd ever be featured as a guest.

I'm well aware of the stigma that can often go along with being a stay-at-home dad.  I've read plenty of articles and books on it.  So far I've been pretty fortunate in that I've not had to deal with much of it yet.  Yes, I'm the only guy at story-time, and I'm sure I get a few strange looks when I'm navigating the grocery store aisles during the middle of a "workday" with multiple kids in the "race-car shopping cart".  I've been called "Mr. Mom" and "Daddy Daycare" more times than I can count.  Some dads find it offensive, but I'm lucky to be able to shrug it off with minimal emotional detriment.  I feel a lot of things as a stay-at-home dad, but emasculated is not one of them.

So, here is why I think being a stay at home dad is good for my kids.

For My Girls:

In the article about why being a working mom is good for your kids, one of obvious reasons was being a role model.  As the article points out, "it's good for young girls to see their mothers be independent and professionally engaged."  I couldn't agree more.  Not that a stay-at-home mom is any less of a role model to her kids, but when we live in a society that doesn't celebrate and encourage women's professional growth and development as much as we should (and compensate them appropriately), watching your own mother advocate for herself professionally is pretty powerful stuff.  I was able to see this first-hand with my Mom when she went back to work.  

Charles Barkley has said some profoundly stupid things in his life, but he got it right when pointing out that parents are the most influential role models for their kids.  Isla has already told us that she wants to be a doctor like her mommy so she can help people.  How cool is that?  It's like we're living in our own "Doc McStuffin's" episode!  Okay, Jess is a pharmacist, but she's still a doctor, even if she only makes me refer to her by that title.  Titles aside, my wife is a perfect example to our girls that you can work hard, pursue your passion, and be highly regarded for the work that you do, no matter what that is.  There are millions of incredibly intelligent and determined women for my girls to look up to, and we're fortunate to have over 2,000 of them just two blocks from our house.  But having a mom to look up to like my wife, the coolest person they know, is hard to beat.  

I also hope that as my girls grow up, they expect enormous support from their significant others to pursue their dreams, especially if those significant others are men.  It was not a condition that I be a stay at home parent for my wife to be successful at her job.  We could both easily be career-focused, but I'm guessing the stress of this might put unnecessary strain on our home-life.  I've never felt like I've sacrificed my career dreams so my wife can pursue her own (partially because I don't feel I have much in the realm of "career dreams", sh...don't tell my parents).  My wife is the breadwinner in our family, and that will likely always be the case.  It's not beneficial for me to harbor resentment about this or feel like I'm not being the "man of the house".  It's my job to figure out what I can do to support our family and the life that we've built together.

And don't make me out to be some sort of "martyr".  Each day we do what we need to do, to be where we want to be.  Or as our old daycare provider told me (immediately after I told her that she would be losing our business), "you need to do what you need to do, to be the parent you want to be."  My wife did not force me to stay at home with the kids, just like she did not force me into the content of my last post.  This was a choice that was consciously made by me, and she has supported that decision (both of those decisions actually) in earnest.  If our girls one day get married (at like 40) or are in a committed relationship, I hope they will have those same expectations from their significant other.  I want them to see their careers or vocations just as worthy of pursuing as their partners; no matter their gender, the pay scale, an arbitrary title or how society views it.      

For My Son:

If a mother can be a great role model for her daughters, I think she can be an even better role model for her son.  For him to see his mom work hard and be successful, despite the sexist climate we continue to live in, will hopefully be a great motivator for him.  What I hope he will learn from my decision to stay home is that it is perfectly acceptable to take the "non-traditional path" if that is what he feels called to do, or if what makes the most sense at the time.  I also hope that he realizes that people, especially men, are not measured by the size of their paycheck or what they do for a living.  I hope he understands that the decisions he makes in life only have to be justified to himself and the ones he loves, and if he is not making decisions in the best interest of those parties he needs to do some reassessing.  Sometimes the things that might be in the best interest of those parties might not be too glamorous and seem relatively mundane.  But that business still needs to be taken care of, and if he is the right person for the job, I'd expect him to recognize that and do his job.

He obviously can't understand it now (maybe he'll get it in a few months), but I also hope that my being a stay at home parent will be a wake-up call for him as a member of the currently dominant gender.  Having spent years working in higher ed, I've long heard about what Philip Zimbardo calls the, "demise of guys".  It can be tough to see by looking at the current leaders of our country (both on the public and private spheres), but in nearly every respect (save self confidence, of course) young boys are getting their asses handed to them by girls - grades, college acceptance & degree completion, civic engagement, and generally acceptable social behavior.  Sooner or later, hopefully much sooner than later, our society will finally catch up with this phenomenon, and we'll see considerably more women in CEO and public leadership positions.  Iceland, consistently one of the happiest countries on earth, seems to have beaten us there already.

I don't say this because I like to male bash, or because I really want to look good to my wife's friends.  I say this because for too long, men (myself included), have had increasing success because we , as my good friend Tago once put it, "won the gender lottery" when we were born.  This is not to say that millions of men haven't had to work hard to get where they are, but if we were women, undoubtedly we would have needed to work harder.  I'm not concerned that if my son doesn't work hard he will end up like his old man.  I'm concerned that if he doesn't work hard, he won't have the opportunity to be as successful as his mom.  Honestly, I was a little relived when our first two kids were girls, because I personally see the future as brighter for them, despite the male-dominated society we currently live in.  I've been able to see this first hand by being surrounded by a number of very intelligent, driven and caring women leaders; friends, family, and former colleagues.  Undoubtedly, Gus will look up to his older sisters, and as much as I don't like to admit it, I looked up to mine.  Her hard-work and successes, and ability to remain happy along the way, were great motivators for me.  I can only see Isla & Havi's successes as being motivators for him too.  Even if it is just in attempt to show them up, something I was never able to do to my sister.                



Above all, as parents we want our kids to be happy.  Truly happy.  Sure we'd love them to be doctors or lawyers or millionaires so they can take care of us when we get old and decrepit.  Selfishly we want them to do amazing things so we can brag about them to everyone when we get old.  Hopefully my decision to be a stay-at-home parent at this point will show that doing "something amazing" can take on all kinds of meanings.  That can mean being a doctor to help people get better, or being the best Mac & Cheese "cooker" in the house.  We all have our strengths and our weaknesses, our passions and our indifferences.  Whether you are a stay-at-home parent or a working parent you'll likely feel some regret either way.  Instead of losing sleep over the regrets, take comfort in the fact that the love for your kids will show through in your actions.  As long as those actions are done with love.

Logistically, it makes more sense for her to practice on me.
I have bigger toenails.

      

Mack The Knife

Warning:

Some of the stuff in this post is a little personal, maybe a touch graphic, and probably considered, in 'tween lingo, "TMI".  If you don't feel like we have that sort of relationship, or you don't feel comfortable with that, then please stop reading now.  By no means will I be offended.  I debated on whether or not I should post something about this, and in the end I decided I would.  But not because I wanted everyone to know exactly what the experience was like, rather to examine the larger picture of how this particular thing fits into our lives socially and culturally.  And because there is a some humor in it as well.  While I recognize that by putting this out there, it will be "out there" and be forever existing in the abyss that is the world wide web.  And someday, my kids may stumble upon it and say, "Dad, what the @%$#!?  TMI!"  Or whatever the kids are saying at that time.  Over the years I've somewhat perfected the art of self-embarrassment, so this will just be channeling that expertise.  I figure if you're going to laugh at someone and aren't very good at laughing at yourself, you might as well laugh at me.

Don't say you weren't warned.

With Guthrie's arrival two months ago, we now have three kids under five years old.  We are finished having kids.  All of our upstairs bedrooms are now occupied.  We have one extra seat in the van, but we'd like to leave it vacant just in case we pick up any hitchhikers.  After Havi had her first birthday, we briefly started having conversations about a third.  I told my wife that while I didn't think we had things under control with two kids, it was at least manageable.  I felt no need to have a boy to pass along the family name, and I was perfectly fine with two.  Jess said she didn't feel like she was done, but wasn't ready quite yet.  Maybe when Isla was in kindergarten.  She was actually looking forward to 2014 being a year where she wasn't pregnant or breastfeeding.

Well, 2014 obviously had other plans for us, and shortly after we found out baby number three was on the way, we mutually decided that was going to be it for us.  Even though Gus was born on Christmas Day, he was not created by immaculate conception.  If you've been through middle school health class or watched "Teen Mom", you're likely familiar with the biological process for creating a child.  I'm not sure when we had the conversation about permanent birth control, or if it was even a "conversation" or my wife informing me that I would be getting a vasectomy, but it must of come up at some point.  Of course we would wait until our little boy joined us to move forward with any permanent measures.

After little Guthrie graced us with his presence and the dust had settled, it was time to revisit the topic.  I had no qualms being the one undergoing the procedure.  Jess was fortunate enough to have three pretty uneventful vaginal births, so for her to undergo a tubal ligation was incredibly unnecessary, especially considering the risk, recovery and effectiveness stats.  We figured eventually we'd want to be sexually intimate again, maybe in like 18 years when the kids left the house, but decided it should probably be done sooner than later, just in case.  Considering we were 1 for 3 with "planning" our offspring, we weren't really interested in playing the odds.  So calls were made and appointments were set-up.

The first time I probably ever heard the term vasectomy was likely from the TV Show "Home Improvement".  Episode 16 of Season 5 to be exact.  The episode aired in 1996, when I was 13, so at the time I'm sure I had no idea what a vasectomy even was, or how to pronounce it.  In the episode, Tim is obviously apprehensive to Jill's suggestion that he get a vasectomy.  He comments to his neighbor Wilson, that despite knowing a lot of guys that get them, he's "just not one of those guys".  You know power tools, cars, "arh, arh, arh" - or however you type that sound he makes.  Wilson, ever the philosopher, empathizes with Tim, pointing out that "in many cultures, men are measured by their ability to pro-create", but also suggesting that there are a number of other ways that make you a man, including your commitment to your spouse/partner.  Ah, Wilson, so wise.  It doesn't seem that Tim is totally sold until his buddy Harry confides in him, only after ensuring no one is in earshot, that he had the procedure done.  Harry's final selling point is telling Tim that a vasectomy is actually better for your sex life - "anytime, anyplace".  Of course sex sells.  Even sterilization apparently.

I think we've come a ways in the last 19 years; advertisements for low cost (and minimally invasive) vasectomies were probably the fifth most frequent billboard we saw along the interstate on our road trip to Florida (adult video stores and strip joints were ahead of it, so maybe we haven't come that far).  After a little internet research, there seems to have been a number of sitcoms that have done a spin-off of the "Home Improvement" Vasectomy Episode - "Two and a Half Men", "Modern Family", "Brooklyn Nine-Nine", "Californication".  The common theme throughout those episodes though, is that there is also a significant amount of humor involving the procedure and a certain amount of convincing that needs to happen before anyone agrees to have it done.  While I didn't need a ton of convincing, there was a fair amount of humor involved during the lead up to and actual procedure itself.  I joked about it with my wife.  I joked about it with the nurse.  I joked about it with the doctor before, during and after the procedure.  Sometimes I use humor as a defense mechanism.  I don't think I'm alone.

While I submit that humor is good, a procedure of this nature is definitely not a joke, especially considering the permanence of its nature.  And I think that can be a big contributor to some of the stigma that still exists around a procedure like a vasectomy, or men's reproductive health in general.  Men are not prone to talking about personal things, especially not something as personal as their reproductive health - unless of course those males are disclosing the volume and attractiveness of the women they've slept with (which is likely a blatant lie).  Instead, Tom Green has to write songs to encourage men to check for testicular cancer.  Maybe The Divinyls did the same for breast cancer in a more subtle way.

Now, I'm not advocating that we need to round up guys and start doing mass vasectomies.  Apparently there is already a World Vasectomy Day in November, on which a British morning talk show actually aired a live procedure this past year (likely in effort to out-gross Katie Couric's colonoscopy back in 2000).  But if you look again at the numbers from the NPR Article, you'll notice that worldwide, sterilization on women is done almost 8 times more often than it is done on men.  In the US, more current research puts it at 2-1 difference (2 female sterilizations for every 1 male sterilization).  That still seems like a significant difference, considering that vasectomies are widely accepted in the medical community as safer, more effective and generally less expensive.  Everybody's circumstances are different, and there are certainly times with female sterilization would make more sense.  But when would you ever buy a more expensive car that didn't work as well and was more likely to get you in a car accident?  Oh, you drive a full-size SUV?  I see.

I'm speculating that a mindset similar to Tim's back in 1996, and the other protagonists on the more current TV shows, is still commonplace with a lot of guys today.  Being against a vasectomy, when it would be beneficial to your relationship with your partner, because you're "not that sort of guy", is caveman mentality.  And don't feel like a "hero" if you get it done.  Do you think your spouse felt like a hero after she delivered your newborn son or daughter?  I actually hope she did, because to carry a baby for nine months and then make it through the delivery, with or without pharmaceutical assistance, is an act of true heroism.  I'm sure she didn't feel like a hero.  She felt exhausted and like a mom.  And that is what mom's do, because they are heroes.  You may be "taking one for the team" by helping ensure she hopefully doesn't have to endure that experience again if she doesn't want to, but it is a small gesture.  You still have to change diapers and get up with the baby at night too.  Post-procedure you will be granted a few days to recover and lay around all day, so enjoy it while it lasts.

Don't let me bully you into though.  I'm not on a mission to sterilize every man on earth - just the ones who may someday show any interest in dating my daughters.  I just hope guys consider it, and talk about it with their partners, and not just crack jokes that you're going to lose your manhood if you get it done.  Your testosterone levels are in no way effected by the procedure, and the FDA just released a study that said too much "T" might be a bad thing.  Given the choice, I'd take living and less testosterone over the opposite.  And don't let your partner bully you into, either.  That's a common survey response (if accurate) by men who regret having the procedure.  But if your partner wants you to consider it, you better have a solid defense for not wanting to have it done - "I'm just not one of those guys" is not going to work.  Have an honest conversation about it.  Yeah, it can be awkward to talk about.  But if you already have kids, odds are 80% of your conversations already revolve around poop, so how awkward can it really be.                      

If push comes to shove, and you really can't bring yourself to do it for your spouse/partner, channel your inner Louis CK, and man up and do it for yourself.   At least it would be for a selfish reason, which shows you have some balls.  Pun intended.

No photos this time.  You're welcome.

I'm sure you can find some on the internet if you are really interested in visuals.  

Or, just watch that live procedure.  I didn't so I can't vouch for its validity.

Acknowledgements

First, I have to thank my wife, who is a hero (even though I don't treat her like one).  She waited on me hand & foot when I made glaringly apparent that the doctor's orders post procedure were to "Lie flat and only get up to eat and use the bathroom".  She actually made it so that I only had to get up to do one of those two.  I'm assuming you can guess which one.

Second, I have to thank my mom, another hero.  She took our two oldest girls for a couple of days so they didn't want to energetically jump on my lap whilst following doctor's orders.  She also purchased three bags of frozen peas for me, since she heard they were a good thing to use - probably after spending too much time on WebMD.

Thirdly, I have to thank my kids for being so cute.  Because of this, amongst other reasons, we decided to quit before we got an ugly one.  I'm kidding.  Calm down.  

Lastly, I have to say thank you to the doctor who performed the procedure.  I hope he doesn't read this.  A very down-to-earth, good humored guy, which is great to during any procedure, but especially when the only part of you exposed during a procedure is your reproductive anatomy.  I'm thankful that he put up with my many annoying questions and bad jokes, while avoiding saying anything along the lines of "whoops" or "interesting" during the procedure.  I'm also thankful that he warned me in advance that I may see some smoke, but that it is part of the procedure.  Apparently when working with plumbing, human or household, there at times is some soldering involved.  

Oh, The Places You'll Go

Glomerulonephritis

Earlier this week my wife commented that our family has been a lot healthier this winter, and that is probably due to the fact that our kids are having limited interaction with other coughing, snot-nosed kids who are terrible at sharing toys, but great at sharing germs.  Of course as soon as she uttered this statement our oldest started a hacking cough and a sniffling nose.  Fortunately it has been a much healthier winter for us, especially in comparison to last year when we found ourselves going almost weekly to the walk-in clinic for a variety of ailments from Thanksgiving to Easter.  I seriously considered inquiring about a frequent visitor punch card. 

One of the exciting things about having kids is that you will begin to find yourself in situations you never could have imagined you would ever be in prior to having kids.  During those moments, all you can really do is take a step back, rhetorically ask yourself, "is this really happening?, and revel in the absurdity. And then file it away because it will be great material for embarrassing your kids later on in life. I found myself in one such situation on a frigid February morning last year at our local pediatric clinic.   And.......action!

Getting out the door to do anything in winter takes ten times longer because children are relatively in adept at dressing themselves for below freezing conditions.  For Havi, who was 1 at the time, getting dressed was the equivalent of 12 hours of manual labor.  She would kick and scream, throwing herself down on the floor which would only intensify her screaming. By the time I had successfully dressed her in her winter attire, her boots would already be off because of course Uggs for a 1 year-old will only stay on with duct tape.  My general rule in winter is if a shoe, boot, glove or hat gets lost in transit between the car and school or a some other building, it’s a lost cause.  When it's winter, we move in one direction after we leave a heated vehicle - inside.  Isla, who was 3, would do nothing to help the situation as she had a attention span of, well a 3 year old. You have to trick kids into getting dress, and essentially doing anything else you want them to; bribe them with treats, use reverse psychology - I bet you can put your shoes on!, threaten to leave without them.  

So getting out the door to go the clinic on this particular cold winter morning was no different.  Both kids needing hats, gloves and over-sized jackets that probably weren't safe to be worn while sitting in a car seat.  A diaper bag overflowing with supplies - food, drinks, extra clothes just in case someone wets themselves, blankets (4 per child is pretty standard), and books. A rolling suitcase would work better if you didn't end up carrying both of them at some point. Of course don't forget an emergency energy bar for yourself, because the last thing you want while out and about with your kids is to pass out due to low blood sugar.  Health professionals always stress drinking plenty of water to stay hydrated.  I actually stopped drinking water when taking my kids out of the house on my own so I didn't have to worry about corralling them in a bathroom stall if I needed to take a piss. This also means I can pack one less extra set of clothes because I likely won't be wetting myself.

The worst thing about visiting the doctor is obviously the waiting.  Waiting for a doctor with children, time moves about 20 times slower than real time.  Even worse is that the nurse calls you back from the lobby where the kids were perfectly entertained by the television, the fish tank and a plethora of new toys and activities, to a non-descript room to take the kids' height and weight.  This procedure involves removing the layers of clothing and of course the shoes, which may or may not still be on at this point. It will usually keep the kids momentarily entertained, or piss off the 1 year old even more because he/she will probably have to lay down for a height & weight check, which is tantamount to water-boarding to any little kid with an ear infection. And if you are taking your 1 year-old to the walk-in clinic, the odds of them having an ear infection are roughly 100%.

Once that is completed, the nurse brings you to an even less descript room where you will wait for a pediatrician who is always running late.  The nurse will proceed to ask you the same questions you are asked every time you visit the clinic, which always includes verifying your address and phone number, even if it had been less than 24 hours since your last visit.  The nurse will also ask what the child needs to be seen for that day, and you’ll describe the issues the same way you did to the person who checked you in to the clinic and the same way you will when the pediatrician finally arrives to look at your child. I’ve been tempted to change the description of the symptoms throughout this question and answer series to see if anyone would actually notice.  Once this information is successfully entered into the computer, for the doctor not to look at, the nurse will inform you that the doctor will be in shortly, which is medical speak for six to eight weeks.  

Our pediatrician informed us that around the 1 year mark, kids start to understand what actually happens at the doctor; i.e, they typically get shots.  Your job, once the nurse leaves, is to stand in front of the door to block their ambitious attempts at escape.  This usually ends when the doctor quietly knocks before opening the door to enter the room, subsequently drilling you in the back of the head.  At this point, the children have stopped crying because pediatricians are non-human life forms whose presence immediately calms any situation. Our pediatrician is so amazing, we're seriously considering adding her as a beneficiary in our will.  

We have made trips to the doctor for a whole host of ailments.  From run of the mill ear infection and pink eye to more exciting stuff like hand, foot and mouth and strep.  I'm always amazed at how quickly pediatricians can make a diagnosis once you describe your kid's symptoms.  I've started to become suspicious that they might just be making these illnesses up, especially since about 90% of the time they will tell you it's a virus and just has to run its course.  When you happen to be so lucky to get something that can be treated, it's almost always an antibiotic.  Even better when they are suffering from multiple maladies and the antibiotic will treat them both.  It's like a two for one!  "Good thing about her having pink eye and an ear infection is we give her an oral antibiotic and you don't have to fight her with the eye drops!"  Thanks, doc, best thing I've heard all day.

After a certain number of unscheduled visits to the clinic, and an excessive amount of time on WebMD, you tend to get a little cocky before even seeing the doctor, certain you already know what is wrong with your kid. Despite this, you still trudge to the clinic and pay $50 to likely have the provider prescribe your child "fluids and plenty of rest." This is done more so to confirm that your own diagnosis was correct and you could probably be a doctor too. Odds are you'll be completely wrong, because again, there is a good chance they are just making something up. Luckily my wife is in the healthcare field, so we (she) usually has a good handle on what might be up when our kids are under the weather.

For this specific visit, I anticipated what to expect. Havi had a wheeze and a cough, so we were thinking RSV, one of those many ailments that has to "run its course".  Isla had a two-day cough that turned into a two-day fever, and then started complaining about her ear hurting. Boom, ear infection! Sign me up for med school. Jess was also concerned Isla might have a UTI (urinary tract infection) since she hadn't been going to the bathroom that often and her urine had been kind of dark. It would be a new one for us, but since I was going in anyway, might as well inquire about it and more effectively use our co-pay.  

Of course we were wrong about Havi - she actually had an ear infection. Isla did too, so at least we got one correct. As far as the UTI, the doctor wanted to get a urine sample from Isla to see what was going on. Here is where it starts to get really interesting (thanks for sticking with this post, I know there has been a lot of build-up). February of 2014, Isla was 3 years and 3 months old and had been potty-trained for about 6 months. Our directive was to head to the lab so she could pee in a cup, a task I sometimes struggle with when at the doctor. But they gave us a contraption called a hat to put in the toilet so I didn't have to actually hold the cup underneath her and end up with a pee covered hand. In the end that would have been the least of my worries. I manage to get both Isla & Havi into the bathroom by the lab, which is no easy task because "The Magic School Bus" is currently playing on the TV in the Lab Lobby. I contemplated letting Havi stay in the lobby, but figured it would be bad form to leave a 1 year old unattended in a public place in front of a TV. I also contemplated leaving the bathroom door open so I could keep an eye on Havi, but I was concerned Isla may have trouble performing under pressure. I was right.  

The scene is the three of us in the bathroom. Isla is on the toilet with no desire to go. Initially, she was not interested in utilizing the hat to catch her sample, so things started with me holding a measuring cup underneath her bottom. After a few minutes of me crouched in an awkward position bracing to be peed on, I was able to convince her that using the hat would be easier and she allowed me to put it in place. That allowed me to divert my attention to another pressing matter, dealing with her sister. We had been at the clinic for about two hours by then, putting us around the 10am mark - exactly the time when Havi should be going down for a morning nap. At this point though she is more interested in helping Isla and thinks the best way to assist is to get both of her hands inside the toilet. As I quickly, but gently, move her away from the germ-covered commode, the tears and screams of an over-tired, ear-infected one year-old fill the bathroom.  
I'm sure the lab techs on the other side of the paper-thin wall are thoroughly enjoying the commentary. I'm pleading with Isla to deposit some pee in the cup. "Please, just a couple of drops." We're running the water. We're singing songs. I'm making promises that I have no ability to keep - "You can eat ice cream for breakfast for the rest of your life!". I'm still trying to keep Havi away from the toilet. She's crying because she's overtired and sick. Isla's crying because she "just can't go!" I should be crying, but instead I'm sweating because I'm dressed for a Minnesota winter. This is the time when I have to take that step back and recognize the absolute hilarity of this situation. Never, ever before this moment could I have imagined I would find myself here - in a 5x5 bathroom, doing everything in my power (short of a manual catheter) to get a 3 year old to pee while also keeping a 1 year old out of the toilet.

After about an hour and a half, which seems like 40 days, and multiple false alarms, we finally give up. I inform the lab techs it's just not happening, and they seem about as relieved as I am. We run into doctor and she confides that the antibiotic Isla will get for her ear infection will also treat a UTI, so while she'd prefer to get a sample, she says to just keep an eye on it. As we left the clinic I made the executive decision that we all needed a sick day. Ear infections might not be contagious, but we didn't want to take any chances. 

We kept an eye on Isla and thought it was getting better until it wasn't. So a week later, since we hadn't been to the clinic that week yet, I took her back and this time she was successful in giving a sample. I had never been so happy to hear the sound of someone urinating. The sample informed us that of course we were wrong and it wasn't a UTI. It was something the doctor called glomerulonephritis. Yep, my response too. 100% made up.

Apparently, this hard to pronounce condition causes an inflammation of the tiny filters in the kidneys, causing the kidneys to not properly filter the the things they are supposed to filter from the bloodstream. This can be either an acute (short-term) thing that will resolve in a few months or a chronic (long-term) thing that could have some serious implications, like eventual kidney failure. All signs pointed to a an acute condition, likely brought on following a bacterial infection like strep. Still, this did little to comfort Jess, who is the worrier in the family and has easy access to lots of medical information.

The preliminary diagnosis of post-strep glomerulonephritis started a string of five daily visits to the clinic to provide a urine sample, blood work and a blood pressure check. Isla was actually prescribed a blood pressure medication, because apparently her's was through the roof. The urine samples were always an adventure, but usually a lot easier when her sister wasn't trying to help out. We did have a day when we waited in the lab lobby for about 3 hours, trying to push fluids to get her to go. It was that day that I realized that the "Magic School Bus" videos that play in the lobby are on a loop that eventually starts over. Hey, we've seen this one before. Today, actually.

Eventually everything cleared up - Isla got her BP under control, the puffiness in her face subsided, and the protein in her urine cleared. A, probably unnecessary, trip to a specialist provided some additional confirmation that we weren't going to have to worry about dialysis for our 3 year old anytime soon. It was an experience to say the least, but we were very, very fortunate that everything turned out fine, and Isla was a trooper throughout the entire process. You never want to see your child experience physical pain and discomfort, and feel it's your duty as a parent to do whatever you can to help them get better. Often times though, there is little you can do, outside of pray, wait, and hope for positive outcomes. A lot of families aren't nearly as fortunate, and I can't imagine what that experience must be like for them.  

The other thing you can do is laugh. We're often told that laughter is the best medicine. Illnesses can be fragile reminders that nothing living is indestructible, and finding the humor, whenever possible, in the ailments that find us, or we sometimes bring upon ourselves (foreshadowing here) can be a powerful, natural remedy. It doesn't even require a doctor's prescription, although you're welcome to go to the clinic anyway, which will probably give you more stuff to eventually laugh about.

Isla showing off her battle wounds.
Sorry, no pictures from the bathroom - they frown on that kind of behavior.