Drag Me Through the Mud: An Unpopular Opinion for the Stay-at-Home Parent
It’s funny because it’s sad. Gender roles in modern America, I mean. The duties of being a stay-at-home mother have gained immense recognition for being just as difficult (sometimes more difficult) as the working life for the average father. Well, of course. Because it often is.
But before I get to the unpopular opinion that you likely clicked on this article to see, I must lay out my journey into fatherhood. I’ll try to keep my rant as concise as possible.
A Little Background
First, I’m aware my story is probably a bit different — and a bit more coarse than many of you might be accustomed to. I grew up lower-middle class with two working parents until they divorced over my father’s alcoholism.
My brother and I generally escaped the woes of our family life through music. In case you haven’t surmised; yes, I thought I was going to be a famous musician, so I inevitably left high school early and did lots of drugs.
At this point, most reasonably intelligent people don’t need to be told that I started working hard labor at quite a young age — first on a horse farm at 14, to factories, food service, automotive, and finally stone construction.
I worked in stone for so long that by the time I became a foreman, I had regularly crippling back and knee problems. Physical therapy and yoga routines helped sometimes, but when day-to-day duties have you crawling through freezing cold mud puddles, no remedy lasts very long.
Thankfully, I was never really a “pill guy,” because I likely would have ended up addicted to opiates like more than half the crew I was with, just to numb the day’s pain.
Needless to say, I was growing more and more tired of that lifestyle. I was turning into a drunk after work (and living across the street from the only bar in town didn’t help). I decided I wanted more out of life.
Time for a Change
I wanted to get back to my passion — music. However, the older you get the sadder it feels to chase illusions of grandeur. I looked at my options.
In all honesty, I wasn’t very good at any particular instrument (guitar, drums, vocals). No, my forte was songwriting. Aside from that, I have also written a couple of fun fictional stories over the years. And like a slap in the face from God itself, I realized my passion is writing.
I obtained my G.E.D. and entered college at 28 years old. Back up just a bit, though. Before I entered college, I met a fun-loving gal. We got along like gangbusters. All the classic clichés.
We had wild sex quite often, and sadly, we eventually realized that physical attraction was all we had in common. She moved across the country a short time later.
Within a month after she moved, the same month I was starting college, I received the call. She was pregnant. Enter another cliché when I told her “Whatever you want to do, I’ll support you.”
Well, she was already three months along and wanted to keep it. I said, “Okay.” At 29, I felt ready to be a dad. We also had a country between us, so I didn’t know what to expect.
Fast-forward. She moves back east and into my home with our now one-year-old daughter. I’m still working in stone construction, though part-time now while I work through my college writing courses.
Then, within six months, my daughter’s mother made a decision. She decided she no longer wanted to “play house,” as she called it. She split.
She turned her life over to drugs and, to this day, she pops up maybe twice a year to call our daughter on the phone — usually on Christmas and, ironically, Mother’s Day.
I have been raising our beautiful daughter by myself since she was 18 months old. She’s almost 10 now.
Here Comes the Sun
If you made it this far, thank you for reading my sob story. I’m being a bit sarcastic. Please understand that this is no “woe-is-me” tale.
I fully embrace responsibility for all of the choices that led me here. My story is for context only, and this is where we get to the point.
For more than two years, I crawled in the mud, laying patios and building fireplaces while my toddler played in expensive daycare. Each day I would pick her up, and balance her on my shoulders while I typed up college-level writing assignments with one hand.
After graduation, I eventually landed a full-time work-from-home writing job and worked my way up to editor, then senior editor — all while being a stay-at-home father.
Today, I get my daughter off to school, go to the office in my house, work all day, and then get my daughter off the bus. I help with her homework and often go back to the office before making dinner. I take her to all of her Taekwondo classes. She’s a first-level DAN black belt now! I am so proud of her!
Between work, cooking, all the chores — indoors and out — and making sure she has a social life, I don’t do much of anything else. And believe me, I’m a typical, average guy at heart. I love football (Go Bills!), a good beer, and the rare evening I get to put my feet up and relax. I haven’t dated in many years, but so be it.
None of this is to say, “Look at me and how great I am!” I don’t need or want anyone’s sympathy or praise. The fact is, when I first held my daughter, I finally found what I was missing in life. My purpose. My true, unconditional love.
There is no way our children will ever understand that feeling until they have children of their own. It gives me goosebumps writing about it and that’s crazy because she makes me mad quite often — a lot of attitude brimming in that one!
The Unpopular Opinion
I have seen way too much of the narrative that being a stay-at-home parent is just as difficult as working a full-time job. It is not. Of course, it depends on the job. But currently, I do both, and I’ll tell you what; it is extremely challenging. It can be mentally, emotionally, and sometimes physically exhausting.
But guess what? The stay-at-home parenting part? That’s just what we do for our children. Coming from my experience, it feels like the moms and sometimes stay-at-home dads who complain about their spouse’s freedom to go to work are simply jealous that the other gets time away from the kid(s), and that feels like nothing other than a lack of appreciation, in my opinion.
Because no matter how difficult it gets when I’m doing it all; no matter how drained I am at the end of the day; I am grateful I get to be with my daughter.
I’m blessed to be home with her, even if I’m working much of the day. Being a stay-at-home parent is work, but let’s have some perspective here. It’s not that much work. I’ve done them both and I’ll tell you, I never want to go back to crawling through the mud!
Please feel free to drag me in the comments.
Thanks for reading!
