The Joy and Pain of a Work at Home Dad

As a full-time work at home dad, I will admit that sometimes I miss the camaraderie that comes from working in a communal space, where coffee pots drip all day and phones ring endlessly. Though I enjoy the flexibility of my current position, which allows me to drive my boys to school every morning and be there when they arrive home every afternoon, sometimes I do long to be able to discuss last night’s Parks and Recreation with a real human being in the flesh instead of the randomTwitterverse.

One of the biggest career challenges I’ve faced was when I began working for a company with a completely remote workforce just before my younger son turned 1-year-old, which coincided with when Mrs. Dude began teaching full-time. She and I made the bittersweet, yet necessary, decision to hire someone to watch our son at home while I was working just a few feet away. Though I keep a separate workspace from our living area, it was frustrating every time I left my office to refuel or relieve and saw him frolicking with the nanny. I desperately wanted to drop what I was doing every time and roll around with my Littler Dude.

This adorable face was staring at me every time I'd grab a drink or snack. It was refreshing and upsetting at the same time.

Sometimes I could do just that, but for only a fraction of the amount of time I would have preferred. Other times he’d run into my office just to see me or sit on my lap for a moment and when the nanny kindly took him so I could resume working, I felt like a part of my soul was being forcibly yanked out every single time.  The irony of my great new job permitting me to be home with my son, while not really being with him, was a struggle that took some time to come to terms with. It was almost a relief when he started pre-school this past fall so that I was no longer faced with the temptation to build block towers instead of PowerPoint presentations on a daily basis.

Working from home is the kind of gift which not everyone wants or appreciates, and that’s OK. The Catch-22 I’ve frequently considered is being able to trade my zero-mile commute for a higher paying job requiring an hour or more each way in L.A. traffic. Now, if my kids need me while I’m working at home just a few minutes away, I can be there if they are sick or to attend their holiday shows at school, no questions asked. What would I do if I worked 25 miles away, which in L.A. terms can be anywhere from 30 minutes to 2 hours in traffic?

The view from my desk chair.
My boys are never really out of sight.

The traditional familial roles which my generation, and countless more before us, grew up with have been thrown out the window and just as women’s lib was such a big issue almost 50 years ago, maybe it’s time to consider this an era of men’s liberation. Men can be engaged parents who stay at home to raise their families or work in or out of the home and still take an active role in parenting. The days of the incompetent “Mr. Mom” father are long gone, so it’s time to finally quash that lame stereotype, just as we have so many other archaic cliches. It was nice to see that the tide is turning during several recent Super Bowl ads featuring actively involved fathers. 

Still, when friends mention going out for happy hour after work and I tell them I’m already deep into making Mac & Cheese for my boys at 5:30pm, the dormant phantom limb known as my office-working days starts to tingle. Then I go eat some of Kraft’s finest while looking at some adoring adorable faces and it all feels OK because I know I’ve made the right decision for my family for now.

This is my happy hour.

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Come hang with me on Instagram for more great pics like those in this post. 

No Day at the Park

My wife started coming down with something a few days ago and I could see where the weekend was headed. Somewhere not fun. We were all still a little burned out and sleep deprived from our recent trip to tropical Ohio, so none of us was firing on all cylinders. Except the Little Dude. Somehow he always has energy. Even when he’s tired, instead of running around, he rolls around on the floor, bed, patio or any other flat surface he can find. That way he can still move around and rest at the same time.

So while the Dudette was down for the count, I volunteered to take BC to the park on Saturday so he could expend some energy.  I had no idea what I was in store for. I should have checked the weather forecast before leaving the house which would have warned me of possible hurricane force winds.  At least it was sunny out, so when my hat blew off I could chase it and easily locate it. 

Being a Dude at the park with a toddler always draws looks from the women and couples present. And not the types of looks the guy gets in the movies when he’s Matthew McConaughey and the woman is Julia Roberts.   It’s more like women who look like Rosie O’Donnell, yet they look at me like I’m Steve Buscemi.

Yes, he’s my kid and to many people it’s pretty apparent. Yet I get a judgmental look and vibe when I take him to the park, as though I’m there to pull a Jerry Sandusky or something.  The park is supposed to be an open place for kids to run around and have a good time. If I wanted to be judged, I’d go to a nightclub in Hollywood.  Is nightclub even still the right word?  I’m much more familiar with Indoor Play Places and Babies R Us than hip bars anymore.

Anyway, I was pushing BC on the swing and didn’t have to do a lot of work. The wind was whipping fast so he was getting a lot of movement and momentum. It was like he was a human Plinko chip going side to side, up and down. Some kids might be scared, but not my 2-year old tough guy.  He was giggling ecstatically and saying “Ahh-gain!”

Geodesic Dome from my childhood. Looks pretty lame now.

After a few minutes, I realized I was the one getting the exercise so I removed him from the swing and we ran over to the toddler playground.  There are bridges, tunnels, ladders, slides and all kinds of fun stuff for those less than 4 feet tall.  When I was a kid we’d go a nearby school’s playground and climb on the jungle gym.  In retrospect the most fun game was probably Tetanus Dodge, but we were too young to know it at the time. 

When I’m at the park, I keep a pretty good eye on my kid at all times.  It seems like some parents drop their kids off, go to Starbucks for an hour, then come back and pick them up.  Usually while the parents are gone the unsupervised kids proceed to sneeze on all of the handrails and cough on the grip part of the swings.  It’s probably not a coincidence that one of us usually gets sick after going to the playground, so now I usually keep a tub of Purell handy while we are there.  Not for cleansing, but rather to throw at the cars of these negligent idiot parents. 

Going to a park in Los Angeles is like a Social Studies class. You regularly hear people speaking Spanish, French, Russian, Hebrew, Farsi & sometimes even English.  I guess we are kind of boring in comparison. That being said, BC loves the park and we’ll continue to go as he finds something new to play with each time.  And maybe sometime, when everything works out just right, he’ll be more tired than I am when we leave.  

The Dude Gives Thanks

With Thanksgiving upon us, I’ve been thinking  about some of the things I’m most thankful for. All of us, no matter how fantastic or awful our lives may be have much to be thankful for.  Even though the backstory of this holiday with the turkeys and Indians and all that jazz is a bit politically incorrect these days, it’s still a great time to be with friends and family. And, more importantly, plan trips to Best Buy at 3am for a $199 HD TV that will probably be both outdated and broken by New Years Eve.

My little family and a new friend.

Here are just a few things I am very thankful for:

·         My son, The Little Dude.  He is the reason I get up in the morning & I don’t just mean because he climbs on me while I sleep.  He has an infectious laugh, fantastic curls and his mother’s patient personality.  And people say he looks like me, which doesn’t hurt his case.

·         My wife, The Dudette.   Her willingness to go above and beyond the call of duty, including while changing all types of doody, really set her apart as a person, wife &  mother.   And her banana bread could bring the Pope to tears.  

·         The rest of my family. All terrific, no matter the situation. Life hasn’t always been a piece of cake for us, and from the look of us you can tell we’ve obviously eaten our share of cakes.  Through good and bad, we have survived. Much like Gloria Gaynor, but actually quite different.

·         Five Guys Hamburgers.  Having lived for 12 years in a city where In’N’Out is hailed as the second coming, it’s nice to have a place that actually makes good food hit the west coast.  And extra thanks to Five Guys for not opening too close to where I live, or else I might weigh 500 pounds.

·         Parks and Recreation. The funniest show on TV always brings a smile to my face, no matter the mood or how late at night I watch it.  Bonus thanks to Nick Offerman’s mustache and Jim O’Heir’s sweaters for pretty accurately reminding me of life growing up in the Midwest even though the show films 2500 miles away from there, coincidentally just a few miles from where I now live. 

·         Los Angeles Traffic.  Though I completely despise you, you make a great excuse for being late that is always accepted unconditionally by other locals. Even if you are stuck on the 405 for 3 hours at 2am on a Wednesday people don’t flinch when you tell them, for they have their own war stories to share of the 101 gone wrong.

·         Southern California Weather.   You can wear a t-shirt and shorts outside in most places in the US during July.  (Except San Francisco.) It’s great living in a place where you can do the same in January.

·         iPhone 4S. Though I was reluctant to get it, kudos to my wife for both pushing me into it and buying it for my birthday and Hannukah gifts.  For the next 3 years.  

·         Diet Mountain Dew. Without you, I would probably fall asleep at 9:30 every night and this blog wouldn’t exist.  Also, my bloodstream would contain a lot less aspartame.  

·         The Penn State Scandal.  While what happened is obviously horrible, it has made the misdeeds by those at my alma mater seem much more palatable in context. 

And last, but not least, I’m thankful for all of you who take time to procrastinate at work and read this blog. Sometimes I wonder if anyone actually reads what I write and then you surprise me with great comments and emails.  I’m very thankful for those of you who have told your friends about me. It’s your support that keeps me going.  Cash helps, too.  Sincerely wishing you  a very Happy Thanksgiving!

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--JJ aka The Dude of the House

My favorite season: TV

As we cross into the second half of September and summer rolls to its chilly end, the calendar is almost back to the most glorious time of year. No, not autumn. I live in Los Angeles where there is no autumn (or winter or spring, for that matter). No, it is almost time for the Fall TV season to kick-off.

I’ll be honest. I’m a big TV fan. Huge. I’m not quite as rabid as Jim Carrey in The Cable Guy, where the obsession goes to dangerous places.  More like the guys on The Big Bang Theory, except I’m not into sci-fi and I’ve kissed a girl before.  

I’ve always been a big sitcom fan. As far back as I can remember I would watch just about any sitcom that was on TV. I was really into Soap for a while in reruns. I got very sick my junior year in high school. My family did not have cable, so as I laid on the couch for a month recuperating from mononucleosis, I became hooked on reruns of Andy Griffith, Gomer Pyle, etc.  

I remember many Saturday nights as a pre-teen watching the NBC prime time lineup that included 227 and The Golden Girls. Both were obviously shows that I fit the primary demographic for, as a 12 year old Midwestern Jewish male hypochondriac.  No matter the case, I kept watching for better or worse. And more often than not, they were worse.  

I’ve never been a big fantasy or science fiction fan. I find the bizarre characters, alternate universes and odd languages remove me too much from the story as I try to figure out what a Klingon or a Hogwart is.  I know people like that stuff.  Not me.  My wife watches Fringe, a show that has some sort of alternate parallel universe story as its mythology. Huh? I have no desire to keep up with the Kardashians, let alone these physics weirdos.

I don’t get into the procedurals, either. I’ve never seen CSI, NCIS or any of that stuff. It’s hard enough to keep track of all the new networks, let alone watch shows whose names sounds like a dyslexic’s worst nightmare. I was recently surprised to learn that CSI and Law & Order were not the same thing. No joke. Never watch ‘em. I know they all have secondary names, like Law and Order: SVU or CSI: LA. Why not just make one big mega-show and call it Law & Order: CSI, the NCIS years. I don’t know what those acronyms stand for, but I’m sure the producers can come up with an explanation.

Obviously BC is too young to watch most of the shows that my wife and I like. Likewise, I’m generally too old to enjoy the shows that he likes.  I already told you in my blog entry “From Deadhead to Elmo Addict” how he and I have gotten very into Sesame Street. I know it’s cliché, but the show is somewhat tolerable and he likes Elmo. 

What I find most interesting about it is that all of the humans who live on Sesame Street are not at all bothered by the fact that 95% of their neighbors are monsters.  Given the propensity of studios these days to mix things up to keep franchises fresh, I’d like to see Wes Craven direct an episode of Sesame Street. You know that within 10 minutes Luis and Gordon would be slaughtering Big Bird and sacrificing him to Satan in return for the right to eat Snuffleupagus.  That I’d willingly watch. 

There are a couple other shows that BC’s gotten into that I also find intriguing:

Dinosaur Train: This show is possibly more preposterous than Sesame Street.  It’s a cartoon that takes us back to prehistoric times where we meet a family of dinosaurs and their kids. The kids are very curious about other types of dinosaurs and take the Dinosaur Train to other historic periods to learn about them.  Um, were the creators unaware that there were no combustion engines functioning in the Triassic period 230 million years ago? Also, when I was in school it seemed like there were 3, maybe 4 different types of dinosaurs. This show has a new type every episode. How is that possible?  

Yo Gabba Gabba: If you haven’t seen this show, drop what you are doing and go check it out. YGG is like if Sesame Street mixed with the cartoon sequence in any movie where the main character accidentally takes drugs.  It’s a funky show with unique monsters who are all very talented singers and dancers.  The show mixes in C-list celebrity cameos (Weird Al! Rachel Dratch! Angela from The Office! ) and a pimped-out ringmaster named DJ Lance. This guy has sideburns that go on for days and is almost as proud of them as he is of his neon orange jumpsuit and fur hat.  

Yo Gabba Gabba incorporates a lot of music into the program and the songs all have good messages for kids.  Songs about brushing your teeth, being nice to others and always tipping your crack dealer. OK, so I made that last one up.  But if they had a song about it, it would be very nice. They also have a character named Brobee whose superlative in the title song is that he’s “the little green one”. Brobee is either clinically depressed or possibly bipolar; I’m not sure because I’m not a psychiatrist.  Either way, it’s a pretty cool show and it’s on like 17 times a day.

When he’s ready, I’ll introduce BC to the wonderful world of Curb Your Enthusiasm, Parks & Recreation and Louie. I imagine that will be at least a few weeks from now, though. In the meantime I’ll look forward to those shows and several other good sitcoms returning over the next few weeks to populate my Tivo, where they will reside comfortably next to episodes of Sesame Street, Dinosaur Train and Yo Gabba Gabba. 

--JJ aka The Dude of the House

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