Sweet the sin, bitter the taste...

It happened in the kitchen.

At least, that's where I got caught...

As a sahd, food or rather preparation of food is one of my primary responsibilities. Breakfast, lunch and dinner, everyday, is what I do. I do not take this responsibility lightly.

Over the last several years, I have discovered and some may argue perfected(?) a few dishes that are staples of our families diet. After preparing the same dish a few hundred times, I get to work out how to make it just right. There are even several items that are on gotoworkJulie's list of favorites. These are my "go to" recipes when I think she needs cheering up, has been particularly busy at work, or I want to get something. For myself. Let's just say they are considered... special.

A couple of weeks ago, I was planning on attending a "pot luck" after an all day seminar. It would be sans family, as Julie had her own education to attend that day. I planned on making/taking potato salad. The recipe I discovered, a few years past, is always well received. As the date of the dinner was approaching, I bought all of my ingredients but I felt that maybe I should bring something else too. This is a group of people that, to be frank, I really like and want to endear myself to.

While shopping, I came upon avocados. Perfectly ripe. On sale. 98 cents apiece. Beckoning. I bought 5. I knew that I would have to prepare the dish under cover. Easy enough, I am home alone for hours most days. I actually felt sneaky as I chopped the garlic, onions, cilantro, jalapeno and mixed them together with the rest. Here I was, preparing something special, not for my family. I put the bowl in the fridge downstairs. Behind the 2 stacked Tupperware containers of potato salad. Just in case.

I came home after the seminar and pot luck and was emptying out the small cooler of my leftovers. GotoworkJulie was in the kitchen, telling me about her continuing education when she noticed me trying to surreptitiously slip the bowl from the cooler to the fridge. She stopped mid-sentence. "Did you make guacamole for the pot luck? I thought you were bringing potato salad." Lamely, I replied "Well... I just thought it would be nice..."

Uncomfortable silence.

Julie, with a hint of mistiness and a hushed tone, said "that's... that's guacadultery."

There it is. It's out there now, isn't it?

stayathomebryan will be receiving 4 to 6 hours of sensitivity training. Again.

I remember it like it was yesterday...

Today is our 9th wedding anniversary. Thank you very much! Our anniversary never goes by when I am not reminded of our first. Yes... I remember it like it was...

In March of that year I got the invitation, from my buddy Cliff, to go on a Hummer weekend. Now, don't get too excited. It wasn't that kind of hummer weekend. The dealership, where Cliff bought his General Motors Humvee H2, invited all of their customers for an outing, to TM Shooter's Ranch, in central Florida. We would be camping, trail driving, obstacle coursing, shooting clay pigeons, drinking, and bbqing. Yes, it was every bit the ultimate, good time guy weekend (someday, I may relate the story. It was truly awesome).

Now for some aftshadowing. Aftshadowing is when you get clues to future events, in a story, that should have been obvious... now that I look back at them. In the week before the event, Julie asked me "What time is this thing over on Sunday?" and "When do you think you'll be getting home?" Several times. And then some more. My answer was always "How the hell should I know? I'm just along for the ride." and "Honey, this is something that is much bigger than just me. I'll be home when I get home." I remember saying something like "Why? Do you have plans or something?" She just answered "Nothing in particular. I just wanted to know..."

At some point, on Sunday afternoon, I walked into our townhouse after being dropped off by Cliff. I was carrying a sleeping bag, wearing a backpack, skateboard helmet, mud-stained clothing and smelling of beer, gun powder, bacon and manliness. I was pretty pleased with myself. Upon entering the kitchen, I encountered Julie with tear-swollen eyes and a very, very disappointed expression. "What's wrong, baby?" was coming out of my mouth as my eyes surveyed the kitchen counter. There was a bowl filled with chocolate covered strawberries, champagne in an ice bucket, a bouquet of roses and a greeting card with my name neatly penned on the front. Julie said "Happy Anniversary, Bryan..."

I may not be the only one to have forgotten our anniversary, but I was the first.

stayathomebryan has learned to read a calender... and take a hint.

*Bleeping* with the enemy

I hate the term "networking". It sounds WAY to businessy and pretentious to apply to stay-at-home dadism. Unfortunately, it really is the best word to describe what you need to do, to maintain your sanity and socialize your kid, before they are old enough to enter school. You gotta "network"(shudder, vomit)...

This means that you have to make friends with moms. They are about all you're going to find out there. You are probably the only sahd in the neighborhood or even town/city/county possibly state. This means that none of your new friends will care about beer, football, the UFC, lawn care, beer, your sex life, South Park, pick-up trucks, beer, your former life as SupposedStud, beer... Yes, it is true, you are alone. Fret not. I'd rather light a candle than curse your darkness.

Where the hell is my Zippo?

You've got to find, meet, and talk to the women(with kids the same age as yours) that you would normally never, ever find, meet or talk to otherwise. You say "Stayathomebryan, are you sure that I have to go through all that finding, meeting and talking? I would way rather stay at home to play video games, and gamble away our life savings trading stocks, while my kid learns everything they will ever need to know from the Wiggles". Of course you would. We both know you have nothing in common with these women... except for the kids! Well that, and the fact that you are housebound, and bored, and worried that you are doing the right thing, and wondering whatonearth am I going to make for dinner, and why did my kid crap on the floor, and why doesn't my kid talk to other kids, and why has my spouse been so surly lately, and jesus christ I am getting fat, and on and on and on...

Oh, amazingly you have a lot in common with these women and hopefully this realization will help you start "networking". Listen to me now and believe me later, your kid NEEDS to be exposed to the world, and other kids their own age, in as many ways as you can think up. You need to interact with poly-syllabic human beings, on a daily basis, to keep your brain from becoming oatmeal. Luckily there are more options than you now realize.

Contact the Parents as Teachers program at your local school system. I met some great moms and kids there, who became the foundation of a great play group, that lasted for years. P.A.T.s was the first structured, school-like, setting Amelia participated in. Our local YMCA has a free toddler time, several mornings a week, that we went to regularly. They allowed preschool kids to ride bikes, trikes, scooters, skates and strollers on their skating rink. It is the largest(relatively safe) toddler free-for-all anywhere. There are at least 5 parks, with playgrounds, within 3 miles of our home, that we went to all the time. That is just the beginning. I hunted out interesting and fun places, to bring Amelia to, and soon started meeting stay at home moms.

After you have been seen at these places, on a regular basis, moms begin to accept that you aren't some kind of predator and will talk to you. I guess they crave adult conversation, too. You'll be amazed at how you are considered an oddity, once they find out that you are an sahd by choice, and not because you can't find a job. After they overcome their sub-conscious prejudices, and find out you have no interest in hitting on them, you may actually become... friends(?). I know. Sounds weird.

Stay at home moms have a hard time not dispensing advice or offering help, to a sahd, whenever the slightest opportunity presents itself. "I put Petunia on a wheat/hormone/gluten-free diet and her attitude/sleep/stool has improved markedly..." when obnoxia-organa-mom sees you feed your kid some Cheetos. Resist the urge to defend yourself and realize this may be one of the "open doors" you need, to help your kid make a friend, and for you to network with someone who walks a mile in your shoes everyday. Even if you don't start a playgroup together, you may be surprised at how many times you run into Petunia/mom over the next few years. A bloody tongue now may pay off big when Petunia's mom is your kid's 3rd grade teacher... or something...

stayathomebryan is pretty good at *bleeping*.

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