Who I Am: The Stay-at-Home Dad

Who am I? At one point I thought I had all the answers to that question. But recently my perception of the question itself has changed. Being a stay at home dad has taught me some very valuable life lessons. These little tidbits on the workings of the universe were not things I learned in my 16 years being a professional web developer, nor were they things that any other job was likely to teach me. They are the things that only full-time involvement with an infant or toddler can really drive home.

Oh, I expected the housework, shopping, mealtimes and the dishes. The laundry caught me a little by surprise, but that's something that can be dealt with, at least on most occasions, without too much of my sanity being torn from me. It's the other things that never appeared in a rulebook or homemakers guide that threw me for a loop for the first two years or so. They are things that after a time become something you either avoid without conscious thought or have relegated to your "do you remember when" stories. But if you're just walking into this, they're things you most definitely need to be aware of.

Did you know that a toddler, especially one who's cutting teeth, considers everything from forgotten felt-tip pens to dryer lint an acceptable teether? The child will blithely wander through your home collecting anything and everything that can possible be wedged into their tiny mouths while happily leaving the last item they discovered in their wake, generally along with a good amount of drool. I doubt that I have to mention that expensive remote controls should never... EVER... be left where one of these adorable yet destructive chew-factories may get their hands on it. (Even stay at home moms neglected to fill me in on this fact, though they did laugh at me when I mentioned it.)

While on the subject of chewing, you may have to reevaluate your notion of "clean" as well. You see, small children have no awareness of sanitation. They do not care that the dog just had that toy in its mouth, or that what they're grabbing for is covered in something that would quite possibly cause a fairly significant illness. This is not what they're on the planet for. They're just here to discover everything that they can in the shortest amount of time possible. If they are still teething, those discoveries happen in their mouth! Invest in a few bottles of sanitizer, it will save you some sleepless nights. (How odd is it that a small child will gnaw for hours on a filthy stick, but refuse to eat even the most normal of foods?)

My toddler has taught me the value of other things as well. He's taught me the real reason that your restroom should be kept as clean as possible at all times. He's taught me that no matter where an object is placed on a counter, table or shelf, a child under three feet tall can safely remove said item from it's place and relegate it to subsequent abuse and gnaw marks. I've learned that legs shorter than a foot and-a-half long can propel a tiny body at speeds rivaling a world-class sprinter, especially if said tiny person is headed for imminent danger, and that with a bit of luck, Dad is faster. (If a bit winded at the end.)

I've learned that laughter is the best medicine, especially if done in concert with a small child. That tickles and hide and seek are pastimes fit for a king, and that nap time is a blessing from every higher power that ever was. I've learned that knowing all the words to the opening songs of at least 8 children's television shows does not, in fact, classify me as a candidate for a padded room, even if it is embarrassing to get caught humming them in public.

My toddler has taught me how to deal with those people who seem to have an issue with a father who doesn't work out of the home. He didn't do this directly, nor do I think that he's shown me something so profound. It happened innocently enough during a conversation with someone who seemed to feel that my place was back out there in the big wide cubicle-filled world of the rat race. In the middle of what was turning out to be a rather heated and pointless discussion the gentleman posed me a question to the effect of:

"So why can't you make it in the real world?"

To be honest, I was about to defend myself, my honor, my work history, accomplishments and all the other things that I've stood and defended in the past, but right at that moment something profound happened. Something that changed all of my perceptions forever. My son slipped and fell.

It wasn't a bad fall, but it was enough to trouble him. In his very best one-and-one-half year old voice he shouted "DA-DA!" and started crying. I ran over and did what any good parent would do. I inspected the scrape, determined that it was minor and comforted my son. By the time it was over, I had no interest in pursuing the argument any further. The answer was already clear to me, though I don't think I ever told this gentlemen of my revelation. I was too busy dealing with my version of "the real world."

You see, it dawned on me that being the full-time stay at home parent is about as real as it gets. I have in my care a life that depends on me to make sure that he gets everything he needs, whenever he needs it. My shift is 24 hours long, 365 days a year with no vacation, no benefits, no comp bonuses or perks, yet not a minute of it feels like work to me. (Well, except for the laundry, which I detest on levels I can't even fathom myself.)

Who am I? I've got the answer to that one:

I am Dad. Defender of puppies, slayer of bugs. Nurse, housekeeper and scullery maid. Superhero and super villain, depending on the afternoon, with moments of comic relief thrown in. I am the finder of lost toys, cleaner of spills and maker of great PB&J sandwiches.

I'm the stay at home dad of the greatest kid that ever lived, and I couldn't be prouder of that job if I tried.