I don’t remember how my wife and I decided that it would be a good idea for me to be a stay at home dad. I don’t remember what possessed me to volunteer or even the actual conversation where I said I’d work and keep our newborn son while my wife went back to her teaching job after her maternity leave. But there I was on January 10th, at home with a new tiny milk-drunk baby from the moment I woke up in the morning until about 6:00 p.m. when my wife got home. What resulted was the most challenging, gratifying, rewarding, scary and fulfilling adventure of my life. It’s been about a year since my son went off to daycare and I find myself reflecting on my time with him, which brings about great moments of nostalgia and other times of worry and second-guessing.
I was 26-years-old when my wife and I embarked on this journey of having me stay at home with my son. If she was worried about my son being at home with me, she didn’t show it. She encouraged me while she was on maternity leave, coaching me through diaper changes (I’d never changed a diaper before, believe it or not), feeding, and what it takes to keep another human being alive throughout the course of a day. By the time she went back to work, I felt like I had a grasp of how to handle being a stay-at-home dad. It also didn’t hurt that my son is the absolute best. He hardly cried. He went with the flow and I think I gained more from being with him than he gained from hanging out with me.
Of course, the six-month experience wasn’t without its calamities. Mostly, there were a lot of bodily fluid-related disasters. You could catch me running out of my fair share of stores because I forgot to bring my son’s diapers and he’d just soaked through his pants. I had to deal with poop explosions in the living room. But I also dealt with frustrations that I feel myself regretting now that my son is older.
The problem with freelance or contract work is that I generally only get paid when I write something. If I don’t write, I don’t get paid. So there were times when I just wished my son would take his nap or stop “bothering” so I could get my work done. Granted, providing for my family is essential, but looking back, I wish I didn’t worry so much about the money my son was “costing” me by having especially grumpy days (usually, Thursdays for some reason). I regret the times I just wanted to put him in his playpen to occupy himself while I handled “important business.” Now, as he gets older - he’s almost 18 months - I just wish I could have had more time with him as a tiny baby that could just curl up under me and take a nap. As I chase him around the house, I think back to the semi-stationary baby who couldn’t get enough of his dad. And as much as I cherished the time with him, I can’t help but wish I’d have had even more. I had to learn that there are more important things than working all day and making as much money as possible because as we get older, I won’t look back wishing I’d worked more. I’d just want more time to goof around with my son.
Looking back on my time as a stay-at-home dad also opened my eyes to the world of extreme second-guessing as a parent. My son is clingy to his parents and doesn’t take to strangers which makes some of my relatives remark that he’s “spoiled,” which always makes me second-guess myself. Did I hold my son too much? Did I spoil him? I’ve had to try to train myself - as well as rely on my wife’s constant encouragement and reassurance - that I didn’t totally doom my son by exposing him to my amateur daddy-ing. I try not to stress out wondering if I could have done more with him or stimulated him with more activities while he was with me, but it’s always in the back of my mind as he gets older. When my son brings his first C home in high school, I’m pretty sure I’ll trace it back to something I didn’t do when I was home with him. However, I just have to remember that that’s only typical parental guilt talking, so I have to remind myself that I did a decent job.
Overall, though, I just think about how lucky I was to bond with my son for the first few months of his life. I hope I taught him a few things as he taught me so much about myself, fatherhood and the blessing that a child can bring.
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