Why So Scared?

OK, so it's been a while since I've written here. Don't blame me, it's been a bit crazy with two little monsters at home now! So in my triumphant return to the world of dad blogging (ha!), I've decided to do my requisite "the world is unfair to dads" post. I've noticed a distinct lack of posts like this on my blog, and hell...how else do I expect to get hits if not with a bit of drama?

Put the pitchforks down, guys. I'm just screwing with you. Yeesh.

But it’s interesting when you look at TV ads these days and see an increase in commercials with men being portrayed as competent caregivers.  It wasn’t that long ago that having a dad who knew how to change a diaper, much less a *gasp* STAY AT HOME DAD, was an anomaly.  Now stay at home dads are all the rage.  You see them in everything from diaper commercials to reality shows (which by the way, was a pretty crappy portrayal of dads that didn’t do one single thing to help the stereotypes).

That’s not to say that things are hunky dory, though.  I love my role as a stay at home parent.  I am well aware that my kids are extremely lucky to have one parent home at all times, and to be honest with you, I’m such a hermit anyway that I don’t mind being cooped up by myself all day with my children.  It’s certainly better than having to deal with all the jackasses of the world.

But I get that no matter how progressive we’re being in accepting the SAHD, it IS still a new concept.  I don’t care about the little assumptions like “Oh, it must be mom’s day off!” or “Is Dad babysitting today?”  Those don’t bug me.  What bugs me is when my morality and integrity as a person comes into question simply due to the fact that I am a dude.

Case in point?  When I first had my daughter at the end of 2011 and I was completely new to being a stay at home parent, I decided to join a local parenting group.  I was struggling mentally and was having a very hard time adjusting to being the primary caregiver to an infant. I figured meeting up with people in a similar situation might do me some good.  The options in my immediate area were surprisingly slim, but I ended up gravitating toward a Northern CA mom’s group.  It was a pretty big and “official” looking group and their website gave me a good vibe, so I contacted the person in charge and introduced myself.  I didn’t get a response for nearly two weeks, so I e-mailed back to follow up.

The response I finally got was about as insulting as it gets:  “Tony, thank you for your interest in our group, but due to the safety of the other moms, we cannot accept a male into our group.  Thank you for understanding.”

Due to the safety of the other moms.

OMG, I’m a sex criminal!  How did that happen?  I swear I only read Playboy for the articles (which ARE pretty good, honestly).  And I swear I have never watched porn (lie).  I am as morally pure as they come, ok?  There’s a friggin’ halo above my head whenever I walk around (also a lie; the only Halo I’m associated with is the video game).  In fact, I don’t even want to join your precious group now….but can you maybe not go around treating me like I’m on some FBI sex offender list?  I promise I didn’t have a choice when I was born with a penis.  Fortunately, shortly after my stint as a stalker/creeper/general sex criminal, I was able to find an awesome group of parents on Babycenter, and have now formed friendships that pretty much ironclad (shoutout to ma peeps), so I’m not as bitter anymore.

Until I was at the local park about a month ago.  My daughter is now three and my son is 1 ½.  I take them to the neighborhood park quite often, and as things tend to happen in neighborhood parks, sometimes other kids play with my kids.  And sometimes, through no other fault of my own other than I am fun guy to be around, these other kids also talk to me and/or play with me.  Yes, I’ve been known to run around on the jungle gym with my kids and whoever else’s kids they may be playing with at the moment.  I PROMISE you I’m not “scouting” your kids to abduct them later.  So there’s probably no need for you to swoop in with a concerned look on your face, grab your kids, and throw sideways looks at me while hissing at your kids about stranger danger.  I mean, you gotta consider the situation!  A little while later, I saw the same mom at the same park with another mom, and overheard their conversation.  They were “so glad” to have just met each other and were exchanging phone numbers for future play dates.  Meanwhile, Mr. Pedophile was off on the jungle gym playing quietly with his own kids.  I’m surprised they didn’t swoop in to try to “rescue” my own kids from me.

I took great offense to that situation, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized this wasn’t a new thing that only happened to me once I had kids.  This has been going on before my daughter was even born.  I recall a post I made on Facebook a few months before the birth of my daughter where I checked in at Babies ‘r Us and wrote something along the lines of how excited I was to be shopping for baby clothes for her.  A friend of mine responded with “Seriously?  You checked in here?  Man, we need to get you to a bar or something.”  The implication, of course, being “Where’d your balls go?”  Never mind the fact that I was legitimately thrilled about being a parent and was looking forward to it; no no no….I had to get to a bar and get trashed to reclaim whatever manhood I had lost.  Basically, I needed to find my inner frat bro because apparently that’s the benchmark I should be aiming for. Imagine that.

My own family has dropped hints that eventually Chandler will be old enough for school and that I can get a “real job” soon.  I tend to be a bit more forgiving with them because 1) it’s my family, and 2) they are old school immigrants, so it probably wouldn’t be worth it to waste my breath trying to convince them that what I do is “ok for a man.”

In the documentary “The Evolution of Dad” by Dana Glazer, he goes around a weekend farmer’s market and interviews a bunch of people about stay at home dads.  Most people were pretty cool with the concept, but many answered the question of “Should a man stay at home to take care of his kids?” with “No, absolutely not,” to “Did he lose his job or something?” and even “That’s just being lazy.”  Later on these same people admitted that their dads either weren’t around much or they never knew their father.  Some even bitched about how useless and lazy their working husbands were around the house.  Hmmmm.

Like I mentioned earlier, these things don’t bug me all that much, but obviously certain situations do.  When my morality as a human being is called into question simply because I’m a guy, then that’s pretty messed up.  It’s messed up that I have to go around saying “Hey!  Look at me!  I can change a diaper!  I cook for my kids!  I vacuum!  I scrub toilets!  GIVE ME CREDIT!!!!”  That’s pathetic.  So thank you, jackasses of the world, both men and women.  Thank you for turning me into the whining bitch I didn’t want to be.  Somebody whiskey me!

And now for your viewing pleasure, watch my dog attempting to hump my cat: