Going Feral (read:foul)

On monday afternoon I realized that I haven't had a shower since friday morning. I know. I'm going to let that sink in a little bit. I can't believe that I am confessing to such utter grossness but, there it is.

I usually don't go that long and I am completely aware that I -well others around me- suffer from a pronounced ripeness that often comes on, even within minutes, of my having bathed. How can I go three whole days? Wtf am I thinking? Even I don't really know...

My wife and I are typically morning people. By morning people I mean that the morning is the only time there is going to be any "business", if there is going to be any had. By the time the night is here, we are both pretty much ready for sleep and I have been recently made aware(warned, scolded, threatened) that late, late night/early, early morning cuddling is not to be taken as "presenting", as I have mistakenly thought. In the past. Not any more.

Sunday morning, when she doesn't have to work and we don't have to get the kid ready for school, is generally... open season. This last sunday morning, when the faint light of the early day signaled that business may be at hand, I had a faint hint of self-awareness, just as I snuggled up close. 'when was the last time I showered... or shaved' went tickling through my sleep addled mind. 'maybe she won't notice...' was next, when we were both jolted awake by "Mommy" being called from the other end of the house.

My wife was once again saved from another assault on her senses and sensibilities. I know that I am responsible for basic grooming. I know... I know... I know... I am truly, completely, utterly, fantastically amazed that my wife still has sex with me. I truly am.

stayathomebryan will have the full silkwood, thank you

Like peas and carrots...

I realized early on, how little influence I will have, over my kid's friendships. In an effort to socialize my very shy toddler(and to keep myself from going crazy at home), I started a playgroup with a few like-minded moms and their kids. The children were the same age as Amelia and the moms had similar family situations and parenting styles as us, and we all lived close enough to one another that it was easy to get together almost weekly.

We planned outings to parks, the Y, children's museum and each others houses. We got to know each other well and trusted one another. Even though our kids are in different schools and all, we still invite the girls to birthday parties and it is great to catch up once in a while. I would have to say that we probably got those kids together at least a couple of hundred times over the course of 3+ years...

Things began to loosen up when some of us put our kids in pre-school. We all said we would still get the kids together regularly but, it really didn't work out that way. I fully expected Amelia to ask to see her friends from playgroup as I was sure she would start missing them. I mean Hey, we had been hanging with these people for basically her whole life...

Two weeks into pre-school, Amelia informs us that she has a best friend and her name is Lydia. She had never said anything of the sort and never talked a lot about her playgroup friends when she was away from them. All of the sudden she has this best friend. I met her friend's mom at pick-up and she seemed nice. Amelia came home from school talking about her friend almost daily. We were floored. Do everything you can to provide friends for your kid and the first chance she gets she goes out and makes her own.

They have very similar temperaments, likes, dislikes and such. They have always been sweet and caring toward one another. I can't begin to count the number of little letters, notes and artsy projects that they have made each other as gifts over the years. When I get fed up with the weather here and threaten to move us someplace warmer, Amelia immediately says "I can't leave Lydia!".

Over the last 4 years, we have gotten to know Lydia's parents really well and have done what we can to get the girls together as much as possible. They live close by but are in a different school system so they go to different schools. This really hasn't diminished how fond of each other the kids are. To me, it is totally awesome to know that my kid has made a lasting friend. It is also humbling to me that I had no hand in it, what so ever...

stayathomebryan is ineffectual.

Making it through another day...

The toughest time for me, by far, as a sahd, was when my little girl was too young to be in school. Those baby/toddler years were filled with many joys and many depressions. "Hey" you say, "What is wrong with you? It is your fault if you had a hard time. You chose to be at home with your child. If you didn't make the best of it, then you are an idiot!". Well, there is some truth to that. For me though, life isn't that black and white. I stand by my decision to stay at home. I believe it was(and still is) the best thing for my kid. I also say it wasn't always the best thing for me...

Being a sahd forced me to face myself in ways that I never had to before. I had always had a job that I was working with other people toward some sort of common goal. It wasn't always rewarding but, it was always distracting. When it wasn't rewarding, I changed jobs to something that was. I did that until I found a job that I loved and made a career out of. It was all on me, by me, for me. Not so with the whole stay at home gig. For the first time in my life, I was living my life for others. Not just the for kid but, my wife too. Being at home all day long, instead of out in the world, gave me too much time by myself. Yes, I was always with my child but, we could not communicate in a way that was fulfilling to me. In fact, it was very, very frustrating. She would cry, like babies do, and often there would be nothing I could do to get her to stop. I didn't have a soul to talk to about it and especially during the first winter, nowhere to go. We had moved to Illinois, from Florida, to be closer to my in-laws. I wasn't used to the cold. I wasn't used to the dreariness. I had no friends. I had no child-rearing skills. Only the desire to do the right thing and be there to take care of my kid and support my wife. Wow. Real life changes, real fast. I found that I needed some coping strategies or I wasn't going to make it.

This is probably going to sound terrible so, here goes. I needed something to look forward to. Something in the immediate future that I could focus on to get me past that crying episode(the kid, not me), the 11th dirty diaper of the day, that she won't go down for a nap when I really need her to take a nap. What was this magical goal, no reward, that would become daddy's little helper? Alcohol. Yep, alcohol. "That is disgusting, and tragic, and... and..." you seem to say. Well, hear me out and learn a lesson that may be the answer to many a problem.

I never drank during the day. Never. I never drank to excess. Never. I would wait until I got the call from my wife, that she was in the car on her way home, then I would mix a cocktail. A Bacardi Gold rum with orange juice and a splash of Pom, to be specific. It is what I came to call my medicine. I would, and still do, sip this wonderful treat as I made dinner and it was, and still is, splendid.

You see, it isn't the drink itself that made any kind of difference. It was having that as a goal, a pivot point, a reward at a moment in the day when I knew that help was on the way. At the most stressful times in my day, I could just say "I am 3 hours away" or whatever and it was amazing how much of a relief that was...

I am not recommending that you take up drinking(or am I?). I am saying that having something, a reward, just for you, that you can use to take your mind off that moment you are experiencing, can make the difference between sanity and... uhhh... not... sanity.

Things are so much easier now. Amelia is seven and in many ways much more independent. Don't get me wrong. I still enjoy my cocktail. Still only after I get the call. I still look forward to getting that call...

stayathomebryan rhymes with schmalcoholic

My kid is smarter than me...

When my daughter had just turned 3, I took her to the pediatrician's office for her annual well-child visit. In the waiting area is a fish tank that, at the time, had 2 sickly gold fish, a blue gravel bottom, a plastic seaweed looking plant and 1 pinkish/purplish rock. Amelia was looking in the tank so I knelt down beside her. I noticed she was staring at the rock. Wondering why, I asked her "What color is that rock?". As she continued to stare at it, I began a little internal dialog. 'Is she gong to say purple? Is she going to say pink? Is she going to say purple? Is she going to say pink?'...

About the time I thought she wasn't going to answer, she said "It's magenta". I thought 'Oh... so that's magenta...'

stayathomebryan needs a color wheel