My Homage To Stay-At-Home Moms

I’ve said it before, but not quite so bluntly.

Stay at home moms watching children full-time should win Emmy’s, free groceries and not have to pay taxes.

I have every Monday off from work.

Yesterday was the little nippers’ last day of school. They went in for one hour, then came home by 10 a.m. just as the wifey was hopping in the car to head for work.

I swear I heard uncontrollable laughter as she drove off leaving me with a yipping dog, a daughter screaming “I want cereal PLEASE daddy!!!,” and a boy behind me saying “can I have a play date? Daddy? Play date? Can I have one, Please!!!” just as the doorbell was ringing with the neighborhood kid standing next to it.

An hour later I had two kids in the basement playing, my son was riding his bike down the street screaming “I’ll be back dad,” just as my phone rang and the dog hit his “I need to go outside” bell.

It wasn’t even 11 a.m. and I was looking around the kitchen for a bottle with a lose top.

11:30 a.m. and I’m out front sweating my ass off watching my daughter fly down the sidewalk on her bike, barely missing hitting the two-year-old neighbor kid, just as another neighbor-kid climbs a tree in our yard 6 feet above concrete. Another neighbor kid opens the door to my house to go “wee wee” leaving it open long enough for my dog to fly out and run for his life down the street.

As I’m running down the street my son yells, “DAD!!! I’M GOING OVER TO #%@&^ HOUSE! I’LL BE BACK LATER!! Only problem was I had no clue in hell who this kid was or where he lived.

About 20 minutes later the boy’s pissed at me, the girl is changing into her 3^rd outfit for the day and I’m in the kitchen making lunch for four kids, each with their own dietary requests.

One minute later and I’m pondering how in the hell I can make it to the local liquor store without having child services called on me.

The chaos continued. But, thankfully I have the support from a neighborhood stay-at-home mom who calmly came over and took control from my rookie ass.

And I was in awe….

I immediately fell to her feet, skinning my knees, but not caring a single bit because I knew I had just met a true “stay-at-home mom.”

With the wave of her hand children were coloring on the sidewalk. Songs were being sung by many. Smiles were on faces that just seconds ago were covered by tears. And I believe I heard a “thank you mamma” trickle off into the air leaving me humbled, numb, and thankful.

I crawled to her feet like a man left for death in the blistering heat of the hot desert sun finding a spring of water. Clasping her ankles I looked up and said, “teach……me….for….I…..fear…them…..and….they…smell…..my…blood!!!”

She simply reached down, patted my head, laughed, and walked back to her house. As she grew smaller as she walked further away I noticed the children slowly focusing their gaze on me, one-by-one.

It wasn’t until the door slowly closed behind the coveted stay-at-home mom that the death children dropped their tasks and began bringing the rapture back to me.

Dear Stay-At-Home Moms:

We love you. Adore you. And you are irreplaceable.

Love,

Me

This Past Month I Did Some Shit

Wifey got back yesterday after 5 days of being by her family’s side to put her cousin to rest. The next day her phone lit-up with a jobby job offer that seemed too good to be true. Five days a week – 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. – the same time the kids are in school so no childcare required. At least not till summer time.

Her paycheck won’t be “extra money” by any stretch. But I still can’t help but think of how I’m going to use the money to get my half-sleeve tattoo finished, or to get the roof replaced, or to dangle in front of my kids’ faces only to quickly snap it away as they reach for it, or to….wait…what honey?!!….yes dear…. Ummm…or to pay bills.

This past month seems to have been about change. The wifey of course experiencing the largest. Me having my daily routine thrown off for a couple weeks – which as any Type-A person knows, is like having your security blanky burned right before your eyes. A change in my waist size from not being able to work out for many days. And, now a new routine with the wife going back to work. On the horizon – hopefully one more large change….

This past month I got a massive dose of stay-at-home mommy life…make that, single stay at home mommy life. We laughed, we all cried, at times I was tied up and beaten with various stuffed animals, occasionally I was proud, yesterday I repeated myself 379 times, on Monday my daughter took a massive poop while the boy tried to wait patiently cause he had to pee, Sunday we bought a cap gun and a Lil Pet Shop birdie, Tuesday I scooped 4 days worth of cat shit, Friday my son said “daddy….you’re a weird man.”

This past month I truly loved spending the time I did with the little bastards and enjoyed experiencing the parts of their days that I miss when I’m at work. But I was glad to get back to my somewhat normal day-to-day life. With enough time, alcohol, and therapy…I’ll forget how challenging it is and look forward to doing it again.

This past month was the first full month of my blog and I gotta say I’m kind of digging it. Who the fuck knows where it’ll go…but it’s definitely providing me with a killer outlet for my ramblings…..

My Chest is All Swollen

Swollen from my first experience as a proud dad after watching my son win something. Not like a soccer game, or a video game…but a bike race.

For the past couple weeks the boy’s been coming home blabbing about some bike race at the zoo nearby. My floppy ears perked up a bit, given that we’ve put some serious miles on his bike this summer. I was all: “that’s cool, dude. We should do it and see how you do!”

It was somewhat on my radar, but nowhere near like it was on his.

Come Sunday, he woke up pretty early. He climbed in bed and said, “daddy, I couldn’t stop dreaming about the bike race and buying a cap gun.” Oh…I forgot to mention, I promised him I’d buy him a cap gun the day before, because he broke a catapult gun a friend had given him that day.

I’m getting sidetracked here, but bare with me… I fucking hate Wal-Mart. I don’t mean hate like I don’t like it. I mean hate like I want some science experiment to go completely wrong so that a huge giraffe is born and goes on a tirade obsessing over eating Wal-Marts across the country and when he’s done he takes a big steamy poop on the empty shell of a building encircling it with signs that read… “I shit on you Wal-Mart. I shit, and spit on you Wal-Mart” (read in a bad French accent). I hate it like that. But…we went anyway because I was confident it was the redneckiest store around that I was confident would have cap guns.

Later that day it was time for the race. My little guy has on his kaki shorts, a red polo shirt, and green checkerboard slip-on Vans. I was all: “Umm..you sure you wanna wear that for the bike race?”

And he was all: “yeah….why? Should I tuck my shirt in?”

We get to the zoo and we’re waiting in line….a long line. He’s not saying a word, he’s just looking around. I finally said, “are you OK dude?”

And he said, “daddy, I’m nervous.”

“It’s cool if you wanna bail and just watch the race.”

“No way…I’m gonna win this thing!!!” he yelled.

The race track was about 1/3 of a mile around a huge fountain and they raced in groups – preschoolers, 1^st and 2^nd graders, etc… So he was all jacked up ready to bike in the 1^st and 2^nd graders boy division. Then - they called all the 1^st and 2^nd grader boys and girls to the line. That’s when we got a look at which kids were going to race against him. We both knew…he was gonna get his ass drug.

The girls did their race, then it was time for the boys. I said, “Gray…just have fun man. This is so cool – enjoy it! My best advice, stay close to the inside of the loop, look straight ahead, and just go.”

“These are some big boys daddy. I don’t think I can beat them.”

I slapped him on top of the helmet and said, “just ride hard and have fun, man.”

So 20+ 1^st and 2^nd graders line up and he’s looking kinda little. The gun went off and my dude stood up on his pedals and never looked back.

(Son is third from the right in the red Polo shirt)

(From the start he takes the lead)

From the beginning he led and never gave it up. I was going ballistic screaming like a little bitch and was probably being videoed and will soon be on Digg.com as the over-energetic asshole dad who’s kid didn’t get picked last at dodgeball…..but I didn’t care. I ran up to him, with his sister dragging behind, and said – “You won man!!!”

And he said, “I did?”

“Ahh yeah…there was no one in front of you the whole race!!!”

He was sooo freakin’ happy and I thought my chest would explode.

(My little dude crossing the finish line)

That was an amazing experience. I knew he was a strong biker and focused on the event. But I have to say I had doubt. I thought those kids were going to make a meal out of him. On his own…he just went balls to the wall and won.

As a kid I played soccer and I remember getting screamed at many a car ride home by my father because I wasn’t giving it my all. Because I wasn’t paying attention constantly and trying to become a pro athlete at it. Eventually he’d say he wasn’t going to waste his time watching me if I wasn’t going to try…and he came to fewer games.

My little shit did me proud. I feel bad I doubted him, but I just didn’t want to be pushing him too hard. And I’m glad I didn’t because for him and me, it just made his win that much sweeter.