Tag Archives: STLFamilyLife

SAHD (does not equal) SAD

(This was originally posted on www.STLFamilyLife.com on July 12, 2010)

As we pack up the house to head back to Chicago, I am bracing for how different our home will be.  We are a new family; we married in 2007 and had the bub in 2008.  Every year of our lives together has been rife with change and adventure.  This past one was no different. 

My hub was a Stay-At-Home-Dad in Chicago.  And although he ran his own business here in St. Louis, he still took responsibility for our daughter two or three days a week when I worked.  He loves it.  I’ve never met a more nurturing man in my life. The truth is that he is a gifted father.  He has a patience and an attention to detail that has given the bub a blanket of comfort and a safety net of consistency. 

It just makes me love him more.

I consider us progressive, evolved, and trend-setting, even.  SAHDs aren’t common.  But here in tha Lou,  many folks have barely hidden their disdain for the concept.  It makes me sad for my husband to be disrespected like that but it also makes me ashamed.  Before I had my daughter, I had those same exact feelings about Stay-At-Home-Moms.

Long is the battle between moms who work outside  v. those who work at home.  Before I had even earned the right to have an opinion, I had relegated women who chose to stay at home as traitors to the feminist manifesto.  I wondered (too often aloud) how they could live with themselves for not pulling their own weight, earning their own scratch, exercising their minds and ambition.  I wondered these things about my FRIENDS… about my FAMILY! I’m disgusted with myself.  Please accept my mea culpa.  I was an idiot who didn’t know any better.

Becoming a mom changes everything.  It’s cellular.  You are no longer the same as you were.  You can still pull out your previous self for special appearances but she is no longer a familiar skin, in a good way.  Kelly Corrigan describes it beautifully in The Middle Place, “In fact, once you become a mother, being a wife seems like a game you once played or a self-help book you were overly impressed with as a teenager that on second reading is puffy with common ideas.”

Why then, is it surprising for a man to feel that way?

The truth is, as much as it complicates our double-income aspirations, that being with a parent is the greatest thing a kid could hope for.  Raising your own child full-time is a privilege that seems available only to those willing to live on little or those who make an extraordinary amount of money. 

After attempting it myself during periods of unemployment over the last two years, I can tell you first-hand that it also requires a skill-set that not everyone possesses.  I think I am a good mother.  I am firm but loving.  I teach; I play; I cuddle/sing/dance/cook/wrestle/read/build/splash/protect.  But Daddy does all those things too.  And he doesn’t shout or need a drink at naptime. 

So what’s a mama to do?

Well, this  Mama went back to work.  In economics, it’s called comparative advantageIn our house, it’s called harmony.   

When we return to Chicago, Daddy will most likely go back to work outside the home.  Bub has thrived in the montessori-like environment of her super-awesome-we-love-them-so-much school here.  We are both confident that she is gaining more stimulation, diversity, and socialization in that environment than we can provide at home.

It will certainly be different for hub and bub not to be at home together every day.

And I think that makes us all a little sad.

(Although not all SAHDs – there are some great dads who blogs @Dadcentric/dadbloggers.)

Lean Legacy

I love food. 

I have lived and traveled all over the world and sampled cuisine in the most unlikely places that makes my toes curl.  I am an adventurous and confident cook and view dinner guests as my personal focus groups for new, sometimes bizarre recipes.  I love recreating restaurant dishes at home and embellishing cookbook instructions with my own culinary insights.

But I also hate food.

I blame food, rather than my dysfunctional relationship with it, for my over-curvy figure.  I know I’m not alone or even terribly unique.  A reported 68% of adults are considered overweight or obese in this country.

There was a time when I had the lean, tight body of an athlete.  I was a softball catcher in high-school and a swimmer in college.  In my 20s, I enjoyed a brief window of physical perfection after a particularly bad break-up and subsequent work-out obsession.

But that was all a long time ago.

I don’t remember weighing myself until I was in my late 20s…  I never dieted in high-school or college.  I think that makes me somewhat of an anomaly nowadays.    Yet I distinctly remember when my weight went up and stayed up. 

Somewhere in my 20s, I stopped eating for love and started eating for pain. 

I am certainly guilty of ingesting my share of cheese fries, pizza, and processed junk but it has more likely been the volume of food I eat that has kept me from being at an optimal weight.

I would probably go my entire life without addressing the source of my disorder were it not for one small reason… my daughter.

My beautiful girl will undoubtedly inherit her share of my bad habits despite my best efforts to tame them:  my temper, my bossiness, my outspokenness, my mischievousness.

But I would be stricken with grief if she inherited my unhealthy relationship with food.

Of course, children learn what they live.  Girls especially, copy their mother’s habits, mannerisms, and behavior.  How soon will she recognize that mommy eats every bit as much food as daddy?  How soon will she notice that mommy snacks even after a full meal?  Too soon, I’m afraid.

I often joke that I was my healthiest when I was pregnant because my body was a temple to motherhood.  I protected that little life inside me against my normal “toxins”.  Why couldn’t I do that for myself?  Aren’t I worthy of being protected too?

As I watch my daughter mimic my loving cuddles with her dollies, I hope I can also find a way to show her how to love herself and value her health.  She is so precious and worthy to me.  Can I make sure that she feels that same way about herself? 

I don’t believe in “do as I say, not as I do” living or parenting, so my challenge is both real and immediate.  Eating habits are established young.  Body confidence as a woman is difficult enough without adding unhealthy weight to the problem.  How many of us are still harboring low self-esteem that originated in our adolescence? 

It isn’t a charity or celebrity chef raising my daughter.  It’s me.  And there isn’t anything I won’t do for her.  Including breaking some old habits.

There is a legacy of motherhood that fascinates me.  In giving life to our children, they often save ours.

(This article was first posted on www.STLFamilyLife.com on May 10, 2010.)