What I could have done...

The subject matter of a couple of new shows have hit home for my family. The shows are Cashmere Mafia and Lipstick Jungle. The subject matter I'm focusing on are women in power who have husbands who take care of the home.

The question that the guys are asking on the shows is, What could I be doing if I wasn't . . . ?

And it's the most difficult question that I, as a stay-at-home Dad, ask myself.

One of my earliest entries talked about how, upon telling guys that I was going to be an at-home Dad when JD was born, their responses included, "Lucky!" and, "How'd you swing that?"

Now, it certainly is not brain surgery. The going rate for a daytime caregiver, I believe, is around $20 - 25k per year. Not exactly big time money. It's cooking and cleaning, educating and entertaining. Again, not coordinating major business deals.

I love my son. I love my wife. I love my job.

But if I wasn't doing this, what would I be doing? Maybe I would hate my job, my boss, my life. I would feel an immense amount of pressure to continue working because we would have grown accustomed to our combined income. Perhaps I could do something worthwhile, like actively and successfully pursue a writing career. Or I could have been a great closer. Who knows? Who cares?

Now I have to be a great parent. I have the opportunity to shape a human being, to direct his abilities and dreams toward his version of success. We go swimming. He's just learning to hit a ball with his shinny stick (small hockey stick). He will play with and page through books by himself. When he's older, we'll do art projects and write stories together. We'll spend summer days playing baseball and basketball, winter days on the ice. I'll teach him to respect the kitchen and his elders. We'll battle over bedtime, naptime, and vegetables. We'll battle over video games, homework, and cell phone usage.

Those are the things that light a fire under my butt. There are days when I don't put my full 100% into making the most out of our day, then there are days when I try to make our minutes valuable by incorporating something educational, just to have him be cranky and only want to play without direction. Then there was the day last week when he walked all the way from the living room into the kitchen for the first time. When he wakes up, he babbles, "Dadadada . . ."

When I see all of these things, the good and the bad, I know that there is nothing more important that I could accomplish.

Will you smell him?

There was a time when the scent of JD's diapers could have been classified as "sweet". Such is no longer the case.

Six months old. I would say that is when his diapers started to stink. Said stink corresponded to his beginning solid foods. The fact that these foods were pureed made no difference. Hey, what do you think your poop would smell like if you drank V8 and apple juice all day, every day?

The nine month change was his beginning table foods. Mac 'n' cheese, bread, potatoes, soups, and anything I ate that wasn't hot and spicy or a no-no food (eggs, peanut butter, among others) were ready for consumption. JD slowly got used to the idea of eating everything that I ate. His poop became more regular with greater consistency. I don't mean that the regularity was consistent, I mean the quality of the poop was more adult-like. As was the smell.

At twelve months, his diet went almost completely adult. Again, consider a diet of milk, yogurt, fruit, vegetables, and a few odds and ends but all on the healthy side. You'd be on the pot at the same time every day.

Starting last week, though, there was a problem with his diapers. The problem was in the consistency category. Soup comes to mind. Pea soup. But without that veggie-and-bacon smell. Think more like spoiled milk and rancid meat blended with rotting vegetables. Now you're with me. Not pleasant.

If you think you've fought and bargained with your spouse over diaper changing duties, these were epic battles. The old trick where I smell the poop, then send him to Mommy to play and then she smells it and says, "Did he poop?" followed by my denial of smelling anything when he was with me doesn't work anymore. Our greatest efforts in debate, logic, and guilting have been put in full force.

It not only stinks, but is messy. Sometimes it leaks onto the bodysuit. That needs to be changed. And he doesn't feel well, so he's not content to just lie there and wait patiently for you to clean up his mess. No, he is in distress and lets you know about it.

I will be happy when I get to change my one log per day. It may stink, but it's an easy cleanup and it flushes nicely, too.

Academic Realities Part 2: Preschool

There are businesses that dedicate their services to minding and teaching youngsters. As we are not yet ready for elementary school yet want a degree of academia, parents look to preschool.

These places mix play, social development, and academics. That is where their similarities end. There are faith based, secular, public, private, and cooperative. There are play based, Montessori, and Waldorf. Some are part-time, some full-time. Some cost as much as $9,000 per year, while others run about $3,000 per year. Some have waiting lists for everyone, some are first-come, first served, while others favor legacy. Some require interviews with the family, and others also want to interview the child. Some require the child to be potty trained, while others will change diapers.

Research into my options has just begun. One website came back with 833 options, thirty of which are within one mile of our house. Half of those are Catholic (we are Jewish). I will probably expand the range to two miles, which means about thirty possibilities. Some friends have experience and can lend a hand. At the very least, they can tell us about their preschool. They may have heard horror stories about others. It is easier to take things off the list. If there isn't a horror story, then it's got a chance.

We hope to begin some level of preschool at about eighteen months. (That's one-and-a-half for you non-parents out there.) Therefore, we have six months to be enrolled, which really means about a month or so to visit, apply, and go through the other hoops. Did I mention some schools have application fees as much as $300? Yikes.

Academic Realities Part 1: Home School

There are two realities I've come face-to-face with in the last couple of weeks. First, that teaching your child takes work and planning. Second, that enrolling your child in preschool takes work and planning.

I'm beginning to think that JD has been exposed to all of the wrong stimuli. That's my own assessment of his current learning ability. He is not learning at the rate my wife and I were hoping. He has no real words and calls neither my wife nor I Mommy or Daddy, respectively. At least, he does not call it to our faces. He says both, but he's never looked at me and said, "Dada!" Forget about any other words.

I am going to have to change the way I do everything. And it does not help that my personality swings toward the introverted side. Speaking directly to JD takes tremendous effort on my part.

There are plenty of things that he does well. Crawling, walking, kicking and throwing a ball, climbing stairs, and opening cupboards and cabinets are all things he is at the amateur or professional level for his age. Socializing? A regular butterfly.

I realize, though, that I have not deliberately worked on colors, numbers, shapes, or other basic academic skills. I kind of thought that such things came naturally. I do not know if they do for some kids, but these are not subjects JD has tackled.

I take that back. It is not necessarily that he cannot, but that he will not. He has no patience for learning. Everything is doing. Now. Right now. He wants freedom to explore. JD has a passion for playing. He is the easiest baby to care for as long as you can dedicate 100% of your attention to his play. He plays ball, piano (so to speak), and with most of his other toys. And did I mention his ability to destroy? Better than a wrecking ball.

I have decided to take a more active role in teaching him the basics. With index cards and markers, I will make alphabet flash cards. He will be taught numbers and colors. Shapes and animals will also be part of the curriculum. There will be some structure and some planning involved. All the parents reading this are saying to the computer screen, Good luck with that. Good luck, indeed.