A note from Mr. Mom

My little girl (#5) was born about ten days ago and my life has changed significantly since then. When I tell people I already have four children, they say "oh, nothing to worry about then…you're a seasoned pro!" I think I even started to convince myself of that as well. You'd think I've learned my lesson by now, but every time I find myself getting a little cocky or overconfident like that, life has a way of smacking me down to reality, humbling me, and helping me appreciate things that I've been taking for granted, like my good wife.

 

I've always tried to take plenty of time off work after each birth to help out as much as possible. It's funny, in my head I've always had visions of these picture-perfect baby moments where I'm holding the baby, everyone's smiling, soft music is playing in the background, and the rest of my kids are gathered around, quietly watching, enjoying the moment. And then I can simply break-away now and then to work on some fun technical problems while the baby is quietly sleeping. We all have visions of utopia now and then but things rarely happen that way, if ever.

 

This time has been especially challenging since my other four children attend year-round school, something we wish we could change but can't for the time being. And they all went "off-track" the day after little Emma was born. Off-track means they're at home 24/7 for about 3 weeks. And since it's winter here in Utah, with a foot of snow on the lawn, it also means they're stuck indoors in our 2600 sq ft piece of heaven on earth. It's hard to think of the right word to describe the situation but "chaos" comes closest. For example, my 5 year old doing a front flip off the top bunk causes an interesting ripple-effect that cannot be undone.

 

The other challenging aspect of our newborn is that she and her older sister are closer together than any of the previous children. With the others, we took care to space them out by ~3 years to let everyone adjust a little before moving forward. Gisela (our next youngest) and Emma are only about 18 months apart, which means they'll be pals growing up, but it also greatly complicates the initial stages. It basically means we have two in diapers, two who need special attention, and help with just about every aspect of their lives. Over the past week, we've consistently found ourselves outnumbered and overwhelmed, where too many things are unfolding at a single point in time for us to effectively cover them all. It's quite humbling.

 

So here I've been in the middle of this situation, trying to be Mr. Mom, picking up the slack and doing my wife's typical duties so she can get extra sleep and attend to the baby. And I can't help but feel unqualified, unprepared, and lacking the necessary levels of patience, understanding and love. I'm pretty sure my older children have looked at me a few times wondering where this strange persona came from. At times I badly want to escape to my office (e.g. hide in my cave) and find peace in my technical domain. But then I realize that is a luxury my wife simply can't afford during such moments - the challenges don't resolve themselves.

 

One of the main lessons I've learned over the past week is that children need structure, attention, and stimulation. XBox provides some entertainment value but children really need projects that educate and engage their interests. They need good books to read. They need incentives and feedback. Most importantly, they need communication and attention. And making it happen require a great deal of work and energy.

 

So this post is my small tribute to women and mothers everywhere, but especially to my own -- my wife is amazing and so was my mother -- the work they do day-in and day-out is harder than anything I do, hands down. I've known many amazing women in my life who have raised large families, much larger than ours, and I have great respect and admiration for all of them, and that respect grows as my family does.

 

Although it's been a tough ten days, I wouldn't change a thing. There is a happiness that deeply embeds itself within me for each of my children, which continually grows as they do.