Every form of refuge (has its price)

It may seem odd that I've chosen stay-at-home dads as the new blog post, since I am away from home (and children) for nearly three months. However, this brief seclusion has forced me to reflect on the previous calendar year as a full-time stay-at-home dad.

The popular way to examine the stay-at-home dad is to generate some good natured fun and laughs (at his expense, of course) as his daily routine clumsily unfolds within the confines of the "domestic prison." This fictional dad will bungle just about every household chore. This fictional dad seems destined (because of his "relaxing" of the bed-jumping rule) for yet another visit to the Emergency Room (where freshly increased co-pays apply). This fictional dad will seem to be on the verge of total psychosis before miraculously turning things around (cleaning messes, helping with homework, food preparation, repairing/hiding minor breakages) just before Professional Mom strides confidently through the door. This fictional dad is, indeed, fictional. Sort of.

There are over 150,000 stay-at-home dads currently struggling in the U.S. I am a full-fledged member of this group, evidenced by my first contribution of a "goose egg" to this year's Maynard family IRS tax return. My writing projects grind to a halt (along with my USCF Chess Rating progress) and I experience a soul crushing depression at least weekly. Loneliness seems to be a major contributing factor to my woes, but how could this be when I'm constantly surrounded with lively, talkative, and loving children?

Simone de Beauvoir's description of women in the home in The Second Sex--ennui, lassitude, isolation--is much more meaningful to me these days than when I studied existentialism in grad school. One feels cut off from the world as a stay-at-home dad, even when he avoids staying at home, and instead, takes the kids out into the community. With small children, just getting out the door is a major accomplishment and consumes lots of energy (and patience). The car ride is chaotic democracy in action with its arguments regarding, 1) What music, if any, we listen to, 2) Where (and when) we will eat, 3) Whether we will go to the library, the children's museum, or the park (or some combination of these), 4) Whether we will circle back to the apartment to retrieve the scooters dad forgot to load, 5) Frustration with Parker's tendency to change his vote multiple times for each of these issues (he's 3 years old--give him a break, right?).

A wife exists somewhere in all of this madness. A wife that is the consummate professional in her field--intelligent, competent, confident, informed--and she really likes to talk about her job. So after an eventful day with the kids, we (my wife and I) will discuss all of the interesting and important decisions/experiences she made/had. And she's tired.

You can see where this is going. Poor stay-at-home dad. Does anyone care about his day? He's tired also.

But there's no time for self-pity because it's off to tae kwon do practice, then dinner, then homework, then baths (plural--for some reason all three now want their own private baths), then bedtime reading, then fight with Noah about watching wrestling because "Mysterio has an important grudge match," then a midnight run to the grocery for the breakfast items we will need in the morning, then, then, then... Does stay-at-home dad realize that the "fuel low" light is on? (both literally and figuratively)

Stay-at-home dad is also a bookish, artsy, writer-type with entirely too many interests, entirely too little success, and few friends.

So...send this stay-at-home dad packing. Give him his freedom and space. Give him time for reading, writing, reflection and the occasional pint (or three) of a strongly hopped British-style ale as he re-connects with old friends. Give him the opportunity to wander into the cinema at his leisure. Allow stay-at-home dad to gorge on Five Guys Burgers and Fries and then play some casual chess games with fellow leisure bum-types as his food digests.

Dad (formerly known as stay-at-home dad) has now ventured boldly into the commons. He is no longer confined to his private enclosure. He is striking up conversations. He is crawling through the bottom shelves of an independent bookstore (which is awkward given his massive body size).

You can see where this is going.

Dad (formerly known as stay-at-home dad) finds the quiet and solitude of his new dive unsettling. His heater is not working, and he throws on the sweatshirt/pants and cocoons into his one blanket, alone. Dad begins showing everyone he meets pictures of his kids and wife stored on his cell phone. Dad is genuinely concerned about staffing issues at Professional Wife's hospital. Dad misses the chaos and noise (and fellow stay-at-home dads) of the tae kwon do lobby. Dad misses bath time.

Dad (formerly known as stay-at-home dad) is staring at the blinking cursor of MS Word. He is listening to the Eagles Greatest Hits. He hears Glenn Frey lament that "every form of refuge has its price" and nods in silent agreement.