Salute to Stay at Home Dad

By Specialneedmom2 @specialneedmom2

For those that are new to our halfpastnormal life, you may not realize that Hubby is the current stay at home parent.  He sends five year old Mr. Sensitive off to school in the morning and is waiting for him when he comes home.  Hubby spends his days with Little Miss Adorable and Baby Dunk while I work outside of the home.

Hubby mastered the SAHD life, and experimented with baking cheesecakes and cooking various meals (there really is life beyond fishsticks).  He takes the kids out to community programs and I can even expect a modest amount of housework to be done during the day.

What does this mean for me?

Both Little Miss Adorable and Baby Dunk have a serious case of mommy-itis.  As soon as I walk in the door Baby Dunk speed crawls up to me feet, kneels and reaches up, sobbing, “Up! Up!”  It does not matter that he was busy playing minutes before; as soon as he sees me he wants to be carried.  Constantly.  Until bedtime.  I now need physiotherapy for baby-carrying damage to my shoulder and elbow.

Little Miss Adorable is more vocal, refusing to having anything to do with Hubby when I arrive home, yelling, “No! Mommy!” and pushing him away.  Poor Hubby.  Although I’m sure he enjoys the break that being rejected by your own children brings.

Heck, I would enjoy it myself.

The other day Hubby had a major appointment and we needed childcare for about four hours.  Little Miss Adorable and Baby Dunk were pretty sick with bad colds, so I took the day off work.

I envisioned a day of sipping tea, lounging in pajamas and taking my darling children for a lovely walk in the fresh air.  I could catch up on housework, spend a couple hours writing….

You can stop laughing now.

I clearly forgot what it’s like to be home with two young children.

45 minutes after Hubby left, I was texting him to come home.  He hadn’t even made it to the appointment yet. 

At one point that morning I put two laundry baskets on the sofa with the intention of folding laundry.  You can stop laughing, again.  Those baskets are still there.  Empty.

My day was a blur of schlepping Baby Dunk around, and watching him scream, arch his back and headbang like a possessed creature whenever I put him down.  When he did want to go on the floor I was constantly removing Baby Dunk from inside the fridge and various cupboards, and off of the furniture – I finally placed Baby Dunk inside a laundry basket with a teddy bear just so I could get dressed.

I tried to occupy Little Miss Adorable with a colouring activity.  This lead to BOTH Little Miss Adorable and Baby Dunk needing a bath at 9:30 am.  I lost most of the lids to the markers, and lost a few markers on the floor, so after the bath they just coloured themselves again. Sigh.

I was busy in the kitchen and Little Miss Adorable asked to sit on the potty.  I left her sitting on the throne, reading a book while I chased after Baby Dunk.  I returned to the bathroom and Little Miss Adorable had no socks on.  She had them on when I put her on the potty.  I looked on the floor, in the garbage, bathtub and kitty litter box.  No socks.

Where are your socks?

She pointed inside the potty.  I lifted her off the seat.  There were two pink socks floating in the bowl.

Great.

I removed the socks from the toilet and left them on the edge of the bathtub to deal with later.  Now for Baby Dunk.

Baby Dunk was miserable – biting, hitting, headbanging, crying to be held, only to bite my arm so hard I still have teethmarks.  I would try to get him down for a nap only to have him through things, crawl around furiously, bite and headbang.  It was time to get him out – I dressed the very angry Baby Dunk and stuffed him into a sleep sac in the stroller.  As soon as he sat in his warm and cozy seat he calmed.

No longer furiously attacking me, he looked happy and his eyes closed.  Now Little Miss Adorable started to be naughty – refusing to put her pants on and throwing socks everywhere.  Eventually both children were strapped into the double stroller and I started pushing it.

I envisioned a nice calming walk through the neighbourhood, hoping Baby Dunk would sleep for a while.  Down the elevator, in the lobby, I looked outside.

Pouring rain.

When is Hubby coming home??  How on earth does he deal with these two???