So, I married a surgeon...and that means more nights alone than I would have ever imagined. Some friends of my wife took pity on me and invited me over to their place for a play-date and a glass of wine last night. I feel they thought I was a total freak. The visit began with them sitting at their kitchen table having a conversation with me... while I stood at least 30 feet away trying to keep an eye on my 2 yr. old daughter who was playing with their 2yr old in the next room. I'm honestly not sure if I'm an over-protective parent or if they really don't see the possibility of injury....everywhere. Maybe they're simply detached? Are they relaxed because they know I’m there… and probably watching both children? I can’t understand how they can sit down and chat blissfully unaware (and apparently without concern) of what their 2yr old child is playing on, near or with. They probably just think I’m ridiculous. I'm sure they wouldn’t believe the, often gruesome, trauma stories my patient wife shares with me at the dinner table. We frequently discuss interesting congenital anomalies that are often quite lengthy due to my lacking a base knowledge of physiology...and therefore asking too many questions. However, we also talk about the many trauma cases in which children arrive in the ER as the result of something that happened when their parent or babysitter “…just left the room for a minute.” I used to see these cases as the "Nascar crashes" for which some people endure the whole entire race just to witness....but now they have gone from exciting and crazy highlights to genuine fears and fuel for my anxiety.
josh sapienza
Accountability: The Importance of Consistent Consequence
It’s still amazing that, in the course of my day, my ability to see any task (from pouring a glass of water or folding laundry to completing a bowel movement) through to completion without interruption is impossible.
There are two other things that never cease to amaze me are:
1. Driving slowly in the left lane is not considered a moving violation and grounds for immediate impound of the driver’s vehicle.
If you’re driving in the left lane and you can travel at the same speed one lane to your right… then please move over. The left lane really is supposed to be the passing lane.
and
2. Parents training their children to mind them only when they are screaming out of utter frustration.
If you calmly tell your child to stop doing something or there will be some consequence… and they don’t stop immediately…then bring on the damn consequence!... regardless of how inconvenient it might be.
Job Title: So...What Do I Do?
I wish there was a term to accurately describe what I'm doing so that I could more comfortably answer the question: "So, What do you do?"
I often hear people using the term “Stay-At-Home-Dad” in everyday conversation… and have also seen it abbreviated as: “S.A.H.D." which not only looks like “SAD”…but would also be pronounced phonetically as: “SAD”. I’m amazed that the term was actually ever even coined because “staying home” is the exact opposite of what I do every day.
“House Husband” is as insulting as “House Wife” regardless of whether or not it conjures up images of the reality show “Real Housewives” who seem to be as disconnected with reality as they are their children....or thoughts of the more traditional "House Wife", who are unjustly stereotyped as lazy shopaholics who start every day with Pilates and enjoy martini lunches after tennis. Either way it’s undeserving for the men and women I know who are the primary care providers in the family.
“Professional Dad” sounds like someone who is taking themselves way too seriously… and I question the professionalism of any occupation with the word “professional” in the title.
“Mr. Mom” suggests some gender role reversal between mom and dad resulting in dad becoming a man with a penchant for gossip and an addiction to the ellen show... not to mention the notion that somewhere out there coming through the front door at any moment is “Mrs. Dad”… which is far too frightening for me to even imagine.
“Full-Time Dad” would be o.k. because it suggests a high level of multi-tasking however, neglects the additional role of “Part-Time Mom” most other “S.A.H.D."s and I assume.
"Sherpa" may be offensive to Sherpas.
Perhaps the absence of an appropriate moniker is due to the fact that my generation is still on the cusp of redefining gender and parental roles.
What about “O.H.P.D.T.F.P.M”? It's an acronym for: One Hundred Percent Dad & Twenty Five Percent Mom?
Or is that too long?
I’ve got it....
“New American Dads” which can be abbreviated “N.A.D.S.”
Working Late: Trying to Remain Professionally Relevant
A three hour (and sometimes two and a half hour) nap simply isn’t enough time to get any real work done. The stop and start is killing me…which shouldn't surprise me since I wasn't ever able to get enough done in a normal work day before. I have an obsessive compulsion to continue working on segments of projects that are always “almost done”… if that makes any sense.
Although I don't believe I'm one of those people who confuse working longer with working harder...my definition of significant progress seems to be “just a little more” than what I’ve accomplished once I realize it’s time to head home. I hate leaving much of anything “on the table” for tomorrow. And now, it's even worse. I’m going to have to add late-night hours to the mix. Since Catherine goes down at around 8:30-9:00pm (a bedtime my mother delicately but persistently reminds me: “is not good for a baby”) so I should be able to do some additional work done from 10 until 1 or 2 in the morning.
Underperforming Asset: Our Lame Dog After TPLO Surgery
Ever since she was a little girl, my wife wanted a Newfoundland. After researching the breed a bit, I could see why. They are undoubtedly the most gentle breed on the planet and perfect for a family with small children….or in our case, a baby.
From the moment we brought her home, we had issues. The dog seemed to suffer from stress and a chronic case of diarrhea. We thought, at first, that it was a food allergy and weaned her on and off of four different foods before turning to pharmaceutical resources. Heavy doses of Metronidazole, intestinal flora powder and a diet consisting of boiled chicken and rice mixed with kibble costing more than kobe beef seemed to help.
A few weeks ago I noticed that Lulu, who is still less than a year old, was very tender around the lymph nodes under/behind her ears. When I asked the vet to check them out for me, I could tell from the not-so-subtle sigh and eye-roll that I was now officially “that guy”. When they returned seconds later saying: “Yup…it’s nothing. She’s fine.” I knew I had been permanently labeled as the hypochondriac owner of whom everyone was tired and that Lulu would never get a thorough examination again. When Lulu had trouble getting up from laying down the following day, we knew something was seriously wrong and when she fell over in the yard yelping two days after that, I threw her in the back of my Suburban and took her to one of the premier emergency veterinary hospitals in the area (VRC) for her mystery diagnosis. Within 12 hrs. they diagnosed her as having H.O.D….a condition that usually only presents in Weimaraners. She was admitted for a few days of observation which meant spending a couple hundred dollars a night on top of the emergency costs, meds, radiographs, etc…Slowly but surely this was tallying up to equal the cost of a summer vacation. But at least we finally knew what was wrong with her and had a potential answer to any and all previous issues.
Shortly after the three week recovery, we noticed that she was limping again. Another trip back to the vet revealed a torn ACL which was another few thousand dollars to repair using a procedure known as a “T.P.L.O.” in which two metal bars and 8 screws are used to take the place of the ligament. We requested a cosmetic closure (stitches on the inside) to prevent her from licking or chewing them which could possibly result in yet another trip to the animal hospital and thus make Lulu the “Six Thousand Dollar Dog”. The vet stressed the importance of strict adherence to the supportive therapy in order to prevent the other hind leg from blowing out (as is typical in giant breeds) and I took him seriously. He explained that some people get both done (like changing both headlamps on a car when only one burns out I presumed) as a precaution, but if we stuck to the routine…it shouldn’t be an issue.
I’ve been spending the past few weeks adding the care for a debilitated animal” to my list of “Things To Do Today”. Lulu needs to be fed, cleaned and cleaned up after, needs help going to the bathroom, given medication, etc… It’s like having an old smelly relative that requires round-the-clock-care move in with us.
For the past six weeks I’ve been Jepetto-ing this dog around the backyard on a sling like a marionette…which isn’t good for a 39yr old man suffering from sciatica and an inferiority complex. I can’t help but feel like my job is, literally, getting shittier….not to mention the fact that we could’ve bought a KIA with the money we’ve spent on this dog so far.
But Lulu has come to mean so much to my wife and our daughter in such a short time. The look in her eyes is starting to get to me as well. It’s like she wants to tell me how much she appreciates everything I’m doing. I think she understands and is both grateful and embarrassed…if that’s possible. She’s such a good dog and as much as I hate giving her baths to clean the shit out of her fur, I am falling in love with this dog all over again… like Queen Latifah and that Scott McKnight in “Just Wright”.
Time Management: Juggling Work and Childcare
My late night schedule is working out pretty well. At the cost of going to bed with my wife, I’ve been able to take the lead on some legwork and re-package a construction debt placement proposal. Successfully managing this client is going to require some creativity in selling the developers on weekend site visits and meetings. It shouldn’t be too difficult as most of our conference calls can be scheduled during my daughter’s daytime naps. We hired a new assistant who should be able to work on this with me and fill-in when I’m “otherwise engaged”. I’m also working with a client who can only meet on weekends (perfect!) and has a fairly large portfolio of un-leveraged properties which should make recapitalizing them require much less time than I had originally expected. The heavy lifting required here is the creation of a global financial snapshot (which can be done at any hour) once I have all of his records. This just may work out after all. Shopping the debt piece shouldn’t take very long and can be done one phone call at a time….again during Catherine's naps. I have a third client for whom I’m providing restaurant consulting services. We’ve already developed the concept, identified three potential sites and prepared his financials. The only things left to do now are: his operations manual, new hire orientation packets and redlining the counters to our LOIs…all of which I can do from home as well. It’s probably going to be exhausting but it is the only alternative I can think of to stave off industry irrelevance and professional atrophy in general.
Watching The Clock: Feeling Terrible about Being Bored
I love my daughter with every ounce of my being but my ego keeps beating me up and making me feel like a glorified baby sitter. I’m just feeling unproductive. I need to be productive. I miss conversations with adults and being interested in my day. This amazing little girl of mine wants nothing more than to have me as her playmate. To play or paint or pretend with me. It’s a remarkable challenge to constantly come up with ideas and activities that are entertaining and fun for both of us. I try to adopt the mindset of a child and build cardboard castles or pillow forts but after 10 minutes, it’s all I can do to stay awake. I’m bored. I need to figure out a way to continue working …part-part-time. Something. Anything from home, Perhaps I can get some work done while she takes her three hour nap. That should be enough time to make a few phone calls and review a contract or two.
Brand Equity: My New Identity Crisis
I have a cousin who is a stay-at-home Dad. At one time, he was my sole reference for what it meant to be a stay-at-home Dad. Within the first year, he stopped shaving and got fat. He let his hair grow long and started to resemble the Trustafarians I hung out with in college. His “comfortable” clothes looked more “dirty” and “sloppy” to me and only served to strengthen my conviction “…that would never be my fate. And now I am becoming what I feared most. I’ve been letting myself go. I’m gaining weight, shaving every other day…or missing three days and then shaping my stubble into a starter beard. Then I’ll let that grow for about a week or two… until it’s a solid beard by anyone’s measure. I’ll then wear it for a another few days (to complete the illusion of intention) and then decide to shave it off or go all “Magnum P.I.” and take it off gradually…which can be pretty fun until you forget you have a 70’s mustache when you’re meeting some already skeptical stay-at-home-moms for the first time who probably think it looks more “Molester” than “Magnum”.
The irregular shaving can quickly go from bizarre fun to a pathetic attempt at masking my lack of motivation...or perhaps telegraphing my identify crisis. I keep catching myself giving up on looking presentable and trying to look more…professional. More…employed. Regardless of the countless articles I've read that depict at-home dads as "in-vogue", I don't live in Tribecca and so in my social circles....and in my neighborhood I am a minority. I’m struggling with feeling a little inadequate, underutilized and under-valued. It's not "raised eyebrows" I'm encountering as much as an immediate dismissal from conversation or worse...snide remarks and backhanded compliments for my choice to give our daughter the parental attention that too many of recent generations are lacking.
Game Changer: Transitioning From Working Dad to Stay-Home Dad
When my wife and I became parents we suddenly found decision-making much more simplified. It all came down to what’s best for our baby. I was a workaholic when it occurred to my wife and me that we could afford to do better than a Nanny for our daughter who, at two years old, required much more than love, attention and regular feedings. Our Nanny was wonderful! And for two years, she faithfully and reliably provided everything our daughter needed in our absence. We soon realized that the mental development of a child was not only astonishing in itself, but also accelerating at rate we never anticipated…far more rapid than the now seemingly slower development of balance and dexterity which we prayed then cheered for. The necessity to incorporate more cognitive exercises into play and “feed” this little learning machine became increasingly important to us and increasingly beyond the ability of her hired care provider. School was not yet an option because we had adopted the “natural course” method of potty training and thus were still changing diapers on outgrown changing tables. It was clear that since we could comfortably sustain ourselves on just one salary, the ideal scenario would be for one of us to stay home until she was both of school-age and potty trained. The promise of dinners, weekends and holidays together was a no-brainer. The question as to who would stay home with her was answered as quickly as it was conceived. It was a matter of simple economics really... my wife is a surgeon while I was a restaurant consultant and commercial real estate broker in a down market.
There's a scene in the film Cast Away in which Tom Hanks’ character, Chuck, finally builds a raft capable of taking him past the breaking surf that has held him captive on a deserted island for years. Once Chuck realizes that he has overcome the surf and is in the open water, he rows himself away from his former prison and begins to weep while watching it get smaller and smaller on the horizon.
With over twenty years of experience in the restaurant industry and a successful consulting business taking off, being a stay-at-home dad would be an escape from: long hours, constant drama, exhausting redundancy and hidden stress for what I knew would be a better life. But, like Chuck, I understood how painful it is to leave everything you know (good or bad) and everything you have become behind.
“DBA: Daddy” represents the paradox and resulting identity crisis with which I am struggling. It reflects my belief that being a stay-at-home-dad demands the honing of every skill-set I previously utilized in my professional pursuits. “DBA: Daddy” is now a way of sharing my transition from “working dad” to “stay-at-home dad” with anyone else who thinks that they too are probably the only guy at Gymboree mentally calculating the franchisee’s Bottom Line based on average class size, hours of operation, number of employees and market rent per square foot.