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December 5, 2013

Free Parking

On Tuesday morning one of my kids had a doctor appointment at 8:30, with check-in time 15 minutes prior. Despite the inevitable “poop-the-diaper-moments-before-it’s-time-to-leave” efforts of my baby (yes, I changed it before we left), we were approaching the clinic right on time. Except for one thing. Parking. Since we have six kids we ditched our minivan and roll with a white 12-passenger (former airport shuttle) van. Or the “creeper van” as my kids call it. Whatever you call it, it’s a beast to park since it’s taller than most underground parking structures, this clinic included. That leaves street parking as the only viable option. And most of those spots are snatched much earlier by the clinic staff.

When we were about 5 minutes into the 15 minute drive to the clinic I said a quick and informal prayer asking God to provide us a close parking space so that we could be on time. It’s a habit I formed several years ago after a pastor challenged us to do so in a sermon about inviting God into our everyday, mundane part of life. Over the years my kids have heard me pray it aloud and have seen it work effectively, to their amazement. It’s also provided an opportunity to discuss the importance and role of faith and prayer in my life. I suppose it’s another perk of being a stay-at-home-dad; living out my faith in the nuts and bolts of life with my kids.

When we were about to turn the corner by the clinic I uttered a slightly more urgent version of my parking request, finishing it with a slight challenge. “Ok, God. Do your thing.” I meant no disrespect by it. But I probably should’ve worded it differently. After all, I’ve lived long enough to see that God has a sense of humor.

Thankfully, God also has a sense of compassion. My challenge to God had barely left my lips when I saw the red brake lights and white reverse lights illuminate on a car parked in one of the three spots closest to the clinic entrance. In our family we call that “rockstar parking”. As I waited for the car to pull out I humbly thanked Him for such a swift and obvious answer to my request. My three year old told me that our van wouldn’t fit between the parked cars. She had no need to worry as I parallel parked the beast like a rockstar…no prayer needed!

I hope that sharing this incident encourages and challenges you to invite God to help you in the boring things of life to help build not only your faith but also that of your children. Please don’t think of me as a saint or anything like that. I mess up many times each day. Sadly, it’s more than enough to live out the concepts of mercy, grace and forgiveness before my family. Let me know if you take up the parking challenge. I’d love to read about your experience.

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November 28, 2013

Reach out and touch someone

I like to hug. There. I said it. I’m a giant and I like to hug. And that weirds a lot of people out. Even my own kids at times. I wasn’t always a huggy kind of a guy. I used to be more of a hearty handshake and maybe a man-hug. Make sure to lean at the waist and don’t linger. That could be uncomfortable. Personal bubble invasion issues. The only people I gave “real” hugs were my parents and my wife. That worked for me reasonably well until I became a father at age 22. After my baby was born I showered her with all kinds of affectionate hugs and kisses and life was good. My wife and I were blessed with two more daughters over the next seven years. During that time I quit my job teaching and became a full time stay at home dad. Our daughters were affectionately loved and cared for by us. We held hands while walking together to the park. My girls climbed into my lap to read stories. They started giving me “fall-over” hugs where they would get a running start and leap into my arms and we’d fall over and laugh and hug. By the time my son was born in 2004 my oldest daughter was nine and had already started to pull back ever so slightly from the hugs and hand holding. She was growing up. Determined to still be affectionate with her (and my other kids as they grew up) I made an effort to give them each a hug at bed time. They didn’t really like it. Unfortunately, I didn’t persist. It wasn’t until a few years later that I realized I wasn’t really having as much physical contact with my kids once they became 8-10 years old as I had when they were younger. As I thought about it some more I realized that was kind of the way it was with my own dad when I was a kid. My mom tended to be more affectionate and my dad would be more of the disciplinarian. I knew he loved me but he certainly wasn’t super huggy or physically affectionate. I didn’t really know what to do with my own kids, how to change our attitudes and perceptions about hugs and other physical affection without it being “awkward”.

Then my dad got sick. In early 2007, at age 66, my health-conscious and fit father, was diagnosed with pancreatitis and was hospitalized several times over the course of a couple of months. Turns out that first diagnosis was a little off, because at the end of March, he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Weeks to live. Maybe a few months. We were all in shock. But what happened to me as a result of that awful experience was that I rediscovered my inner teddy bear.

As I said before, I’m kind of a giant. I’m 6’8″ tall. I have to duck to avoid hitting my head when I go through most doors. I’m a nice guy but (apparently) a little intimidating when others see me. But cancer didn’t care. My dad’s cancer and six week journey through hospice leading to his death that May six years ago transformed me in many ways. Perhaps the most significant was the power of human touch. As my friends learned of my father’s condition they often expressed their concern and support and asked what they could do to help. That was all very thoughtful and much appreciated. One friend, a neighborhood mom that I’ve known since our oldest daughters started school together, saw me at the grocery store and asked about my dad. Upon hearing my grim report, she simply walked over and gave me a hug. No words needed. Not sexual. Just one human comforting another. Beautiful. After my dad passed away there were many people who offered their condolences at his service. While the memories people shared were nice to hear, it was the physical touch – holding hands and hugging – that were the most comforting.

Recently I came across an article on http://www.goodmenproject.com that talked about how we, as men, are missing out on the benefits of gentle, platonic touch with other people. That struck such a chord with me and stirred up my memories that I just shared. And it caused me to examine my own life and how I parent my kids. Why is it that my 3 year old daughter excitedly holds my hand when we’re walking but her older sisters and brother wouldn’t be caught dead doing that? Is there something that I could do to change that? Why does one of my older kids ask me to give her a hug many nights before going to bed when another one literally almost punches me if I try to hug or kiss her? I don’t have the answers. Interestingly, though, my only son is nine. And he and I have a pretty close relationship. While he doesn’t hold my hand, he wants me to put him to bed every night and allows me to hug and kiss him (cheek only!) before sleep. But he won’t let my wife hug or kiss him.

One of the many things I love about the church my family attends is the real sense of community there. I noticed it from the first moment of the first day we walked in. In the ensuing 20 months since that first visit I’ve gotten to know a lot of the men who also call that their church home. While I’m not particularly close to a lot of the guys what’s really struck me is the level of the brotherly love at my church. And the hugs. Not the awkward hugs like I described in the first paragraph. Real hugs where you actually embrace the other person and hug. It’s amazing. Once in a while I’ll forget where I am and extend my hand to a guy only to have my arm practically yanked off as he pulls me into an embrace. And that was my buddy Rob who is maybe 5’6″ but with a huge heart. Going to church each week and getting hugged has really helped my emotional and spiritual well being. I’m forced to be real. About a month ago my buddy Kyle greeted me and I half-heartedly gave him a hug and pulled back. He looked at me and admonished me to “Do it like you mean it, bro!”. And gave me one of the biggest bear hugs imaginable. I guess I should mention that Kyle is a former offensive lineman and stands about 6’4″. He’s almost as big as the senior pastor (another former O-lineman) who also gives great hugs. Until becoming a part of this particular church community I had rarely experienced the brotherly love and support from others that comes from physical touch.

As a SAHD I have the unique opportunity to literally touch the lives of my children in both a figurative and literal sense. I want them to know the power of human touch in a positive way. I need to challenge myself to empower my kids to express their feelings and emotions through positive platonic touch. Follow AT&T’s advice from the 80s and “reach out and touch someone”.

No go find someone to hug.

November 20, 2013

Who’s the Boss?

The following questions were raised by a fellow Stay At Home Dad (SAHD) online Tuesday and there was a lot of feedback/discussion among the rest of us SAHDs. He asked us these two questions: “Do you think that a marriage with a SAHD situation somehow makes the working wife/mother feel empowered over her SAHD husband? Do you guys feel you have lost some of your status as head of the household?”. I didn’t have the time earlier in the day to compose my thoughts, but now that my wife and kids are all asleep and the kitchen is clean (for a few hours, at least) I’m going to try to put my thoughts into words.

I’m going to address the questions in reverse order. I’m not entirely sure what it means, in 2013, to have the status of “Head of Household” (HoH). That seems to be an antiquated term from more traditional times when the “breadwinner” was the husband and the wife stayed at home with their children. I’m thinking of stereotypical times like those portrayed in “Leave it to Beaver” that were played out across this country for a long time. For me, and I’m sure many others my age (I’m 41) and younger, those times are long gone. My wife and I try to partner together to run our family. Sure, it’s a non-traditional setup compared to the Cleavers but it works for us. When my wife and I were married at age 20 neither of us really knew a lot about what it would take to run our house. But we learned, together, and with the love and support and advice of our families and friends, we’ve been doing this for almost 21 years now. What I personally learned was that being the HoH was less important than being a supportive husband and father. Even before I quit my teaching career to become a SAHD my wife and I shared the role of HoH. We shared. We worked together. I learned that I got great fulfillment in serving my wife and kids, so much that I was willing to give up my career to stay home with our kids so my wife could pursue her advanced degree and career. So, I guess the answer to that question is no. I don’t feel like I lost my status as HoH because I never really grabbed at it in the first place.

Backing up a little bit, what exactly does the term “Head of Household mean? Is it the person who earns the most money? The person in charge of finances? The person who works at a job and earns money (instead of hugs and kisses!)? The person who runs the finances and pays the bills? The person who takes care of the kids? I think that term is somewhat outdated now because so many couples tend to share many of the aforementioned tasks (and there are many more). In our marriage we’ve each assumed all of those roles at different points. It hasn’t always been easy. In fact, having such a non-traditional gender role-reversal has been very difficult at times. In 2000, when I first started my now 13 year career as a SAHD, my grandfather expressed his deep concern over this choice. You see, he came from the “old school” way of specific gender roles and rules that you just don’t mess with. I wish he were still alive because I like to think he’d be pretty pleased with how it’s worked out for us. Not always smooth sailing, but we’re still journeying together.

What’s particularly interesting to me is that I feel like I’m more of the “Head” of our household because I’m a SAHD. Because of the demands of my wife’s education and career choice (she’s a doctor) I’m the one who is able to really pour myself into the daily lives of our kids. I’m the one bringing them to/from school, feeding them a snack and listening about their day once they get home, going to the park, and so on. I really know them because I’m home with them all the time. Since I’m around them so much I have the opportunity to really set the tone for their emotional, physical, mental and spiritual well-being. It’s a responsibility that I cherish and it motivates me daily to be the best father possible.

I think the first question is the trickier one to answer, which is part of why I saved it for last. To be 100% honest, I don’t think it’s the SAHD setup that makes a wife feel “empowered” over her SAHD husband. At least it doesn’t have to be that way. If your relationship is based on mutual serving or submission (I know, that’s a hot word for some people) then neither spouse would feel “empowered” if one worked outside of the home and one stayed at home to care for their family. That said, I think that the type of guy who would be willing to give up his career to be a full time SAHD is generally one who is more willing to serve. He probably values relationships with other more than being right or in control. On the flip side, the wife of the SAHD is often a highly-driven and intelligent Type-A person. Such a person would naturally be (or at least perceived to be) “empowered over” her SAHD husband because of their different personalities. Probably one of the biggest challenges for me over the years I’ve been a SAHD had been to maintain that balance in the relationship with my wife. She comes home from a job where she is in charge. There are people who are paid to listen to her and to anticipate her needs so that she can do her job better. And when she gets home, well, she’s not “doctor” here; she’s “mommy” and “sweetie”. And we don’t respond to her like her co-workers. I’m pretty certain that a similar challenge faces the working dad when he comes home to an at home mom. Only we’ve been conditioned to believe that’s okay because it’s traditional gender roles.

So to answer the first question directly, I’m going to really ride the fence. Being a SAHD could certainly lead the wife to feel a sense of “power” over her husband IF power and control are more valuable to her than a healthy relationship. In our society money is often equated with power. So, for all parents (dad or mom) who choose to serve their families at home instead of out in the work place they’re at a disadvantage right off the bat IF the working parent tries to make that power grab. But such a power grab is truly a slap in the face to the parent who is at home. It’s basically telling him or her that the only thing that matters is the size of your paycheck. And that’s total B.S. If you both agreed to the at home parent arrangement in the first place such a tactic is a really low blow. Besides, the sacrifices of the at home parent are what enable the working parent to freely go off to work each day, knowing that the rest of the family is going to be taken care of all day long. And that knowledge is PRICELESS.

That said, I believe both parents have to recognize the challenges they’re facing so that neither one feels like they’re giving or taking too much in the relationship. It’s such a delicate balancing act that constantly needs fine tuning. It’s often easier to ignore a slight shift in behavior to try to keep the peace. But the problem doing that means one person is going to feel hurt while the other doesn’t even know it. I think the keys to making the SAHD (or mom) option work for a couple are communication, forgiveness and love.

November 18, 2013

Appreciation

One of the great things about being a stay at home dad is getting to know the friends of my children. My son has a good friend I’ll call X. They often get to hang out at our house after school and are even on the same soccer team. A few weeks ago X’s dad started a new job and was working longer hours as he became acclimated there. As a result, he asked me if it would be okay for his son to come over to our house after school on days they had soccer games. That way X would be able to get to his game on time. I was glad to help out my friend and his son. As a bonus, my son got to have his buddy over a little bit more often than usual. Following the third game that I’d helped with X, his dad sent me a simple text. “Hey Carl! Thanks for your help with X. I appreciate you.”

That’s all it was. Simple. Yet music to my ears. As I’ve thought about that text more I began to realize the importance of telling others that I appreciate them. Thank them for their help, yes. But, APPRECIATE THEM! Hmmm. And really mean it. I try to use my manners by saying please, thank you and excuse me and stuff like that. But how often do I take the opportunity to tell my kids and wife that I appreciate them? Not often enough. It’s fitting that my appreciation epiphany comes during November, when we observe a holiday about giving thanks. We need to remember to look for the good in other people and tell them that we appreciate them. It’s a little idea that could be a big deal. As a dad I sometimes find myself being critical of my kids for not doing something that was asked of them, irritating a sibling, leaving their stuff around the house and so on. What if I focused on what they’re doing well and showed them genuine appreciation for who they are instead of the negative alternative? Seems simple enough. I’m going to make it a point to tell each of my kids (and my wife) that I appreciate them during the next 48 hours. I’ll let you know what happens.

In the mean time, try it out on your family and friends. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.