I attended my first moms’ club meeting last week. I’ve been on plenty of playdates with other moms. But this was the first time I’ve mingled with a group of stay-at-home mothers that refer to themselves as a “club.”
The club is headed by a mom I met at a weekly tumbling class. Mary is a native of the neighborhood, and the club is mostly comprised of her girlfriends from grammar school, high school and college.
I introduced myself to the group. Everyone seemed very nice, though it was clear that I was an oddity. I received a few “Mr. Mom” comments, which I brushed off. (For the record, calling a stay-at-home dad Mr. Mom is generally frowned upon. It’s sort of like calling a stay-at-home mom who volunteers to coach Little League - Mrs. Dad.)
My two sons were a bit older than the rest of the kids in the group. They also were two of only three little boys in the group. There were about six little girls frolicking in the downstairs playroom too. As a result, I had to put out fires here and there. My boys would often pick up a princess wand and use it as a sword. Or they’d pretend a plastic hairdryer was a handgun.
I found myself frequently leaving the conversation to attend to these matters. I needed to act fast before some unsuspecting girl got whacked with a wand or pistol-whipped with a Barbie hairdryer. The conversation went on without me. That was fine.
I certainly didn’t expect everyone to sit in silence as I corrected by boys’ behavior. However in my absence, the dialogue began to go a direction I could not follow. Early conversations included a discussion about kids’ teeth with the dentist’s wife. Another interesting back and forth focused on kids’ shoes. One blind mom said she found a Web site that sells shoes with squeaky bottoms. This enables her to locate her daughter quickly despite her limited eyesight.
But after I was gone from the conversation, topics turned to C-section scars and other physical aspects of giving birth. These are things I couldn’t really join in on. I found myself staying with the kids. That wasn’t a problem, but one of the points of a playgroup is to allow adults to enjoy some conversation away from the kids.
I still had a good time at mom’s club. I just don’t know if I’ll go back.
As parents, we often find ourselves telling the kids stories about when we were kids.
Especially when it relates to things that are going on in their lives.
We are currently trying to emphasize the importance of hard work as it relates to keeping a roof over their heads and a little something to eat in the refrigerator.
“Oh, you think you have it hard. When I was a kid . . . . ”
You know how the stories go.
My childhood memories are dominated by life-on-the-farm stories (I did spend the first 18 years there, after all) and safety was not something that really crossed the minds of my three siblings and me.
After all, that involved several hours of physical work a day (after school and before homework) and even more hours on weekends. I don’t know how we got any homework done during the harvest and planting seasons. By the grace of God, we did.
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I didn’t sleep very well last night. The reason for my restless night is ridiculous.
I was worried about my 3-year-old son’s poop.
My son has been partially potty trained for months. I say “partially” because we have continued to put him in a diaper overnight and during naps. Not surprisingly, Bubba consistently waited until he was in his diaper to go No. 2.
I was fine with this arrangement. It meant I only had to change two diapers per day, albeit stinky diapers. Still, Bubba wore underwear throughout the day and rarely had an accident.
The stakes were unintentionally raised last week. The Wife forgot to change Bubba into a diaper before bed. This had happened before and always resulted in a full day of washing sheets, making beds and cursing beneath my breath.
However this time, Bubba woke up clean and dry. I was so excited. We immediately went to the potty, where he practically filled up the bowl with the liquids he had been saving overnight.
As a reward, we went to Toys R Us and purchased a toy Lightsaber ($9.99). The deal was he could play with the sought-after sword (pictured here) as long as he kept his underwear clean and dry. This arrangement worked fine for three days.
Then, Bubba decided he didn’t want to poop anymore. Perhaps, the Lightsaber lost a bit of its allure. Regardless, the bedtime bowel movement was skipped, and I feared the worst.
I slept all night with one eye open, peering at the baby monitor. I figured Bubba would have to go at some point, and I had to be ready to sprint out of my bed and into his room to oversee the process.
Morning came, and Bubba was clean and dry. I don’t know how he did it. Nevertheless, I fear this poop-less existence is building towards a catastrophe…. oops I mean accident.
One of my son’s friends commented the other day about how it is “such a bummer that summer vacation is over.”
We didn’t have a very long conversation about it, but I reminded both of the 11-year-olds that even though school has started, the weather is still nice enough to be outside — after your homework is done. Everything doesn’t have to change.
Later that same day, we learned that Backpacker Magazine’s “Get Out More Tour” was coming to our son’s favorite Army surplus and outdoors store, Champaign Surplus, in Champaign. We were definitely very excited about that.
The fact that it was on a Tuesday night kept us from getting to go, but it reminded us that we should squeeze a hike into our schedule while the weather is still nice.
We go outside in the cold, but it seems like the kids don’t want to stay out there as long when they are uncomfortable.
Here are some neat ideas we gathered from back issues of Backpacker that bring that summer vacation freedom back - if even for just a few hours:
— Get a magnifying glass and follow the insects as they scurry here and there. The magnifying glass can be picked up for a dollar at the “cheap” stores around here.
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Last week, I was driving through Bradley during the “witching hour.” My fellow parents likely know this time of day well. It normally arrives in the late afternoon - around 5:30 p.m.
By this time of day, any goodwill earned from earlier naps has been expunged. It’s not quite dinner time, not nearly bath time and hours away from bedtime.
So, it turns into crazy time. My boys use this stretch for a variety of activities, including acting crabby, fighting and just being difficult. My daily goal is to find an activity that will carry them over until supper.
I was at my wits’ end when I drove by the McDonald’s PlayPlace at 1180 N. Kinzie Ave. in Bradley. I pulled into the parking lot, thinking perhaps this would be a place where my two tots could burn off some steam.
I generally avoid McDonald’s PlayPlaces. They are normally dirty and occupied by misbehaving children. However, I was desperate.
Turns out, this is hands down the nicest indoor playground I’ve ever seen within a McDonald’s restaurant. The play area was clean. In fact, the manager and an assistant were tiding up the place the entire time I was there.
There’s a giant climbing structure for kids which serves as the main attraction. However, there are also touch-screen games and a basketball hoop, as well as about 6 other modest attractions. There’s a family bathroom that features a tiny potty for trainees and a changing table for those in diapers. The bathroom was clean too.
Again, I’m normally not a fan of McDonald’s PlayPlaces. About 90 percent of the time, I opt for the drive-thru lane. But this is one restaurant where it’s worth unbuckling the kids from their car seats and killing about an hour - particularly if it’s at the witching hour.
As busy families focus on finding ways to financially make ends meet, the kids in our house were wondering if everyone’s green efforts are being forgotten.
With the help of a book we came across, we came up with a top 10 list of fast fixes that have a big impact and create a family-friendly future.
Somewhat adapted from the new book, “The Green Year: 365 small things you can do to make a big difference,” by Jodi Helmer (Alpha, $14.95).
Just take action on one idea per day and the kids’ as well as the parents’ environmental awareness will increase.
1. Research careers in environmental fields . . . . Both have said they’ll probably have a green job someday as they earn their own green. Maybe it will be aquatic ecology or eco-toxicology. Need an idea as to where to start? Check out www.environmentalcareer.com.
2. Our 13-year-old loves to play the Sims games on the PC, but we never thought of these games lending a hand to environmental education. According to Helmer, “Games like CO2FX and SimCity Societies teach kids about global warming and environmental economics.” How? “During a game of SimCity Societies, players have to decide between a coal plant, nuclear plant, wind plant, or solar plant to power their city; the decisions they make will impact other aspects of their virtual communities, including healthcare costs and real-estate values.”
3. Work then play - while the weather is still nice, make plans to go on a little weekend hike or a trip to the river (or lake) and bring along a bag for picking up garbage along the shore before you enjoy the afternoon of outdoor recreation. Doesn’t your environment look better after that debris has been removed?
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In November 2007, when my wife and I learned that we were having a son, I couldn’t be happier.
In fact, I immediately pumped my fist and screamed, “Yes!” when a nurse announced, “It’s a boy!” after performing an ultrasound. Almost as if I was celebrating a teammate knocking down a buzzer-beating shot in an NBA Finals game.
The pure anticipation of taking my son Jayden to a local basketball court to teach him the game — if he desires to learn it — has been overwhelming.
After all, some of my fondest childhood memories include times when I would spend hours at a time playing basketball with friends on the streets of Chicago’s South Side.
Sometimes we played at a park. In one of my old neighborhoods, where a park wasn’t close by, we would make our own basketball rims.
We’d figure out ways to nail large, flat pieces of wood to wooden poles to create a backboard. And to that “backboard,” we would attach old bicycle rims or milk crates that were cut out at the bottom, to create the hoop.
Due to those experiences — and my watching Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls win championship after championship during the ’90s — I’ve become enthralled by the game of basketball.
My dreams of becoming an NBA player were dashed when I failed to make my high school’s basketball teams due to my minimal talent. (I was forced to put my energy into my school work; I guess becoming a class salutatorian was just as cool.)
In college, I competed with a number of talented basketball players and studied the game, which enabled me to become a much smarter and skillful player. I’m extremely humbled every time one of my peers tell me that I now have the ability to take over a game a la Kobe Bryant or LeBron James.
I love the game so much that I plan to play until I reach my fifties.
Why do I say all of this?
Anyone who’s been around my son, who turns 2 in February, knows that he’s fascinated with balls. He loves throwing them. He runs around the house with them. He will almost take your head off if you try plucking a soft, miniature basketball from his hands.
I light up every time my wife and other relatives joke about my son becoming a professional athlete because he’s been oversized since birth — like a power forward in the making.
I often imagine being an assistant coach for my son Jayden’s youth basketball team one day. That is, if he takes a liking to the sport when he gets older.
But moments like the one I had with Jayden earlier this week only get me more excited. On Tuesday, Jayden — who’s still learning to talk and doesn’t say much — looked at me while holding that soft basketball forbidden to others.
He then said in the cutest, but clearest little voice — “Ball.”
I will admit that when I first received an e-mail on a writing contest several weeks before school started, I made a note of it, but thought it would be more timely to pass along the information after school started.
So, are the kids excited about the new school year?
Are they motivated?
Do they want to try to win a $50 gift card to Target?
If they have kept up with their reading, they are definitely ready for this opportunity.
The Illinois Secretary of State’s office is sponsoring a writing contest.
It is for students in grades 4 through 12. Fourth-graders are not competing against seniors, thank goodness.
What do you write about?
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If you think there’s a convention for everything these days, you’re probably right. There’s even a convention for stay-at-home dads. And, I’m going.
The 14th annal At-Home Dad’s Convention will be held in Omaha, Neb. The one-day convention is set for Oct. 10th at the Durham Museum. Registration is $55, which includes a full day of educational seminars, classes and discussions as well as a convention T-shirt.
I’ll be flying into Omaha on Friday night and staying through Sunday afternoon. I’m flying on Southwest Airlines from Chicago’s Midway Airport. Airfare was about $70 each-way.
This isn’t my first rodeo. I attended the At-Home Dad’s Convention in 2006. That year, the convention was in Kansas City. I brought The Wife and our then infant son. I thought most of the attendees would do the same.
In fact, I was one of only a handful of dads who attended the convention with their family. When asked why, I was told that most conventioneers treat the event like a work event. They wouldn’t expect their working wives to bring them to an industry event, so most men decide against bring their family to the dad’s convention.
Now being a stay-at-home dad is not a traditional industry, so there were plenty of guys who arrived at the designated hotel with strollers and wives too. I was just surprised that this wasn’t the norm. Needless to say, I’m flying solo this year.
The K.C. convention was well-timed for me. I had just become a stay-at-home dad, and it wasn’t until I attended the convention that I realized I wasn’t the only guy out there doing this gig.
It was reassuring to see other men in the same role as me. These were men who weren’t ashamed to say they were stay-at-home dads. These were men who know what it’s like to be the only dad at the park, surrounded by suspicious moms. These are dads who change diapers without batting an eyelash.
I’m looking forward to the convention again this year. I’m expecting the experience to be different. I’ve been a stay-at-home dad for three years now. In this profession, that practically makes me a veteran. I’m looking forward to picking the brains of other veteran dads in Omaha, and maybe sharing some tips with the rookies.
