I am new to being a stay-at-home dad, so it's difficult for me to speak confidently about what it is to be one, especially the challenges of being one.
The unknown is part of the excitement, I suppose, but at this point it's all relatively unknown to me. And that's scary.
Since Cherish and I made the plunge in August, our lives have been an adventure, an exploration. We don't know what each day will bring us. We've been tiptoeing around each bend in the path.
We've encountered joys, such as the sweeping views one might encounter on a path. They're the views that rouse breathtaking optimism of what's to come (or of what you should be celebrating now).
And we've encountered challenges, such as the barbs one might encounter on a path. They're the brambles that distract you from the sweeping views.
Even thought the joys overwhelm the challenges, those challenges can be a prickly constant.
Cherish and I chose this path for Willow (and her siblings), and we don't regret our choice. I don't think we ever will.
Still, the challenges must be unique to this path. Maybe they're not.
Financially, for example, our budget is nearly half what it used to be, and it has been a challenge for us.
But it seems to me that the challenges we face in our head matter more to those we mark on a chart.
I cannot imagine, for example, the fight Cherish must endure each day knowing she's leaving her child with me. I know her pain must be more than what I would have endured if our roles were opposite. I can't say why, but I feel it. Is it because I'm a man, predisposed to that role whether by nature or, gulp, society?
I can't speak for Cherish. We are a strong couple. We communicate well. We are in tune with each other's needs and desires, but I cannot speak for her on this, on what it feels like to watch the other parent take the plum role. Her mother's bond must run deeper than my father's bond, right?
I do sense that her challenges are on a much deeper level than mine, which seem to bob on the surface.
And yet, I struggle to define mine, to face them.
And what are my challenges?
Cherish pointed me to an article today about stay-at-home dads. The article ran in The Tennessean, but only in part. Here's a link to the full article in The Indianapolis Star: http://www.indystar.com/article/20120108/LIVING10/201080317/Stay-home-dads-adjust-new-roles.
The article is a general look at the rise in the number of stay-at-home dads. It's a quick hit on the topic, but a few parts resonated with me and my challenges, or as the story calls them, "adjustments."
Here's one:
"The decision (to be a stay-at-home dad) may have been the best for the children, but it hasn't come without a few adjustments for (Bob) Nargang, (a stay-at-home dad for five years).
"'I do realize the social stigma for a man being a stay-at-home dad,' he said. 'Moms who stay home are praised for being involved with their kids' lives; dads are questioned because people think they are inhibiting their careers.'"
I've felt that, but mostly in whispers, whether truly sensed or of my own perception. I think I've started to move on from this, though, the whispers being drowned out by baby cries.
And here's another:
"What Narang's lacking is a social outlet. Stay-at-home moms have Mother's of Pre-Schoolers (MOPS), spontaneous play dates and lunch meet-ups.
"'There are a few stay-at-home dads at school, but guys aren't as social as women,' said Nargang. 'It's tough to find a balance between something that isn't too feminine but not too masculine and smoky. Sometimes I feel left out and wonder if my kids are socially impeded by my role. You go to school and all the moms are hanging around in the hallway talking, and it just feels more like a mommy's world.'"
I've felt this acutely. I am not social. I don't sense other men wanting to be social with me. Maybe this will change. And on top of that, I don't want to have a lunch meet-up (yuck). And yes, I worry that I'll socially impede Willow.
That's a big pathway barb that keeps sticking me, but Cherish stands strongly by my side, helping me through. I feel her there all the time.
But if insecurity is the crux of the matter, that shouldn't be too tough to overcome, right?
Another snippet from the article:
"Even though the worldview of mom in the workplace and dad at home is changing, it's the individual who ultimately defines his job, said Seth Kleiman, a child and adolescent psychotherapist with Indiana Health Group.
"'I encourage males and adults in general to take control of their insecurities, and the kids will pick up on that,' said Kleiman, the father of a 3-year-old daughter."
There you have it: I've been challenged to take control of my insecurities. Sounds prickly. I don't know, maybe it won't be so hard. After all, Cherish and I have made it this far, and we've enjoyed those sweeping views on the path we've chosen.
And even if I've been at this for a scant few months, I know this much: I've encountered no view more sweeping than that of Willow's smile, or her happiness.
And that gives me resolve to shake off my insecurities.
The unknown is part of the excitement, I suppose, but at this point it's all relatively unknown to me. And that's scary.
Since Cherish and I made the plunge in August, our lives have been an adventure, an exploration. We don't know what each day will bring us. We've been tiptoeing around each bend in the path.
We've encountered joys, such as the sweeping views one might encounter on a path. They're the views that rouse breathtaking optimism of what's to come (or of what you should be celebrating now).
And we've encountered challenges, such as the barbs one might encounter on a path. They're the brambles that distract you from the sweeping views.
Even thought the joys overwhelm the challenges, those challenges can be a prickly constant.
Cherish and I chose this path for Willow (and her siblings), and we don't regret our choice. I don't think we ever will.
Still, the challenges must be unique to this path. Maybe they're not.
Financially, for example, our budget is nearly half what it used to be, and it has been a challenge for us.
But it seems to me that the challenges we face in our head matter more to those we mark on a chart.
I cannot imagine, for example, the fight Cherish must endure each day knowing she's leaving her child with me. I know her pain must be more than what I would have endured if our roles were opposite. I can't say why, but I feel it. Is it because I'm a man, predisposed to that role whether by nature or, gulp, society?
I can't speak for Cherish. We are a strong couple. We communicate well. We are in tune with each other's needs and desires, but I cannot speak for her on this, on what it feels like to watch the other parent take the plum role. Her mother's bond must run deeper than my father's bond, right?
I do sense that her challenges are on a much deeper level than mine, which seem to bob on the surface.
And yet, I struggle to define mine, to face them.
And what are my challenges?
Cherish pointed me to an article today about stay-at-home dads. The article ran in The Tennessean, but only in part. Here's a link to the full article in The Indianapolis Star: http://www.indystar.com/article/20120108/LIVING10/201080317/Stay-home-dads-adjust-new-roles.
The article is a general look at the rise in the number of stay-at-home dads. It's a quick hit on the topic, but a few parts resonated with me and my challenges, or as the story calls them, "adjustments."
Here's one:
"The decision (to be a stay-at-home dad) may have been the best for the children, but it hasn't come without a few adjustments for (Bob) Nargang, (a stay-at-home dad for five years).
"'I do realize the social stigma for a man being a stay-at-home dad,' he said. 'Moms who stay home are praised for being involved with their kids' lives; dads are questioned because people think they are inhibiting their careers.'"
I've felt that, but mostly in whispers, whether truly sensed or of my own perception. I think I've started to move on from this, though, the whispers being drowned out by baby cries.
And here's another:
"What Narang's lacking is a social outlet. Stay-at-home moms have Mother's of Pre-Schoolers (MOPS), spontaneous play dates and lunch meet-ups.
"'There are a few stay-at-home dads at school, but guys aren't as social as women,' said Nargang. 'It's tough to find a balance between something that isn't too feminine but not too masculine and smoky. Sometimes I feel left out and wonder if my kids are socially impeded by my role. You go to school and all the moms are hanging around in the hallway talking, and it just feels more like a mommy's world.'"
I've felt this acutely. I am not social. I don't sense other men wanting to be social with me. Maybe this will change. And on top of that, I don't want to have a lunch meet-up (yuck). And yes, I worry that I'll socially impede Willow.
That's a big pathway barb that keeps sticking me, but Cherish stands strongly by my side, helping me through. I feel her there all the time.
But if insecurity is the crux of the matter, that shouldn't be too tough to overcome, right?
Another snippet from the article:
"Even though the worldview of mom in the workplace and dad at home is changing, it's the individual who ultimately defines his job, said Seth Kleiman, a child and adolescent psychotherapist with Indiana Health Group.
"'I encourage males and adults in general to take control of their insecurities, and the kids will pick up on that,' said Kleiman, the father of a 3-year-old daughter."
There you have it: I've been challenged to take control of my insecurities. Sounds prickly. I don't know, maybe it won't be so hard. After all, Cherish and I have made it this far, and we've enjoyed those sweeping views on the path we've chosen.
And even if I've been at this for a scant few months, I know this much: I've encountered no view more sweeping than that of Willow's smile, or her happiness.
And that gives me resolve to shake off my insecurities.
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