Becoming a stay-at-home-dad (SAHD) has been a steep learning curve for me. Here’s what I’ve discovered since trading in my suit-n-tie for all-day activewear nine months and one eternity ago.
They hate us coz they ain’t us
When you tell other dads you’re a SAHD, they generally respond in one of two ways.
There’s the sarcastic alpha types that snigger at your lack of manliness. These are the same dads that think they ‘babysit’ their own kids, and that being too involved with their children is a threat to their masculinity. These guys are idiots.
Then there’s the the awestruck guys who think what you’re doing is akin to curing cancer.
Regardless of which category they fit into, deep down inside, they’re all jealous as hell of how much time I get to spend with my kids.
I have ‘mummunity’
Know that special immunity that mums have that keeps them healthy when everyone else in the house is as sick as a sick dog? I now have it. I’ve spent the past week with a sick wife and two sick kids, deep in the clutches of the winter flu. And despite breathing in countless coughs and sneezes, wiping away streams of snot and eye mucus and getting virtually no sleep for four days straight I have remained impeccably healthy.
I love baking
I’ve always enjoyed cooking, but stuck to fairly basic savoury meals. Since becoming a SAHD, I’ve ventured into the deep realms of sweet treats. Cupcakes, brownies, birthday cakes and blueberry pies. Ask me about my fondant icing, blind-baking pastry and soft peaky egg whites. You name it – I’ve attempted it. Good for the soul. Not for the dad-bod.
I’m good at girl hair
One of the most daunting tasks of being a SAHD is the daily taming of my wild daughter’s crazy mane, something I had zero previous experience in. I now have three go-to styles that I can knock out in less than a minute. Pigtails, high ponytail, and my personal favourite, the hipster topknot.
I’ve learnt the trick is copious amounts of spray-on conditioner and a diversion of some sort – think iPad or unfettered access to mummy’s lipstick.
Jif gets crayon off pretty much anything
This is in no way a sponsored endorsement, but that stuff is seriously one part cleaning product, three parts magic. My two-year-old daughter recently took to our white leather lounges with her crayons while she was meant to be having ‘quiet time’. Thankfully, all it took was a vigorous wipe down with some Jif, followed by a quick prayer to whatever gods save husbands from being murdered by their wives. And like magic, crisis averted.
Metallica puts kids to sleep
My kids are not car sleepers regardless of the time or how tired they are. I recently had to go on a long drive with two very reluctant and grizzly kids in the back seat. After a long and trying day, I couldn’t deal with any more yelling or whining. So I put on Metallica and cranked the volume up to drown out their noise. The kids fell silent immediately as the opening bars of Wherever I May Roam rang out. Before the song ended, both of them were fast asleep.
I’m not a mum-replacement
I’ve realised that being a SAHD is not a direct replacement for mum and it’s ridiculous to think that we could be. At the end of the day, there is a special place in each child’s heart that is reserved just for mum. No matter how competent we are at the domestic stuff or how nurturing and sensitive we are, we can’t fill that space.
I may have found my calling
Being a SAHD isn’t for everyone. It can be exhausting at times, but I love it – from the moment I the kids wake me up at ridiculous o’clock in the morning, to when I’m tucking them safely into their beds at night. Every day, every hour, sometimes every minute, brings a new challenge. I’ve loved all of them.
