Dada…Dammit: Issue 5-Cold, Sticky Feet
I enjoy being a Stay-At-Home-Dad. No, I really do. Many people have a priority in life of having a career, reaching that terminal degree, making millions. I’ve always made it a goal to do me and not follow the path everyone else takes. Whenever I’ve been thrown a curve ball in life I’ve taken a laid back look at options and chosen the most interesting. This has not led me to wealth beyond measure-and luckily my wife loves me for who I am. All of those interesting paths and adventures led me to where I am today, a Stay-At-Home-Dad, struggling writer, and artist.
My priority is my family. And I have read so many books and read so many quotes from authors about sacrifices they have made for their craft. Sacrificing sleep. Sacrificing family. Sacrificing marriage. Sacrificing friendships. I don’t think any of that is good. I think it says a lot if someone sacrifices their marriage and family for their career. I won’t dive into the psychology of such a choice, but beyond excuses for providing for a family if you lose them then all is for naught. And that goes for friendships, too. Real and true friends are few and far between and they should be cherished-a person’s personality type depending. There’s nothing wrong with alone time (what’s that?) I’ve also tried the sleep sacrifice. Sleep is important. Sleep is amazing. Sleep is god. In my opinion, if you’re going to sacrifice sleep, it’s best to do in the morning hours. For some of us that is difficult. I’m not a morning person. At all. And I’m far out of habit of waking up early. But I get more done before everyone wakes up compared to staying up late and trying to clear the cob webs.
I’ll be honest-I don’t get a lot of writing done during the day. I may sit down and start an article or I may plot on my next novel. Some times it takes me an entire week or two to edit one chapter. And more often than not, my writing is thinking and working things out in my head while I’m doing dishes or folding laundry or building and playing with my daughter. I talk to myself while prepping and cooking food, working out plot issues. This happens because I’m interrupted about every five to ten minutes. In the time it’s taken me thus far to write this I’ve been interrupted to play, go outside, discuss who could defeat the Hulk (as explained to me some unnamed, unknown ice giant guy that doesn’t exist could), and to warm up cold feet. They’re under my shirt and they are cold.Cold, sticky feet. This is my priority.
I am blessed to be able to stay home with my daughter, to make sure she is safe and loved. At time where parents in society today forget their children in the back seats of their cars, or leave them unattended to fall in zoo pits, or what-have-you, our legacies aren’t just our careers or bank accounts, they are our children.