I can't believe it, but one of the official Mantles of Parenting has been bestowed upon my wife and I: we are going to Disneyland... today! We're actually already in Anaheim getting psyched for the coming hour. Lindsey and I are super stoked that we're here. We've talked for a while about whether Ethan is too young, but we think he will love it. We're doing this as an alternative to paying a bunch of money for a party for his 2nd birthday. I think it is a win-win-win situation.

   The best part is that Vons has 3-Day park-hopper tickets for only $99 each! A normal 1-day hopper ticket is $91 at Disneyland. What a fantastic deal. We've never been to California Adventure so we're pretty set on giving that a shot. Another cool thing is that Ringling Brothers Circus is down here at the Honda Center. http://www.ringling.com/

   Another activity we are planning on is the Discovery Cube science center. I've seen it off Interstate 5 a bunch of times and have always wanted to stop there. The website looks really cool so we're excited about that as well. http://www.discoverycube.or...

   We've been wanting to go to Medieval Times for a few years as well, so maybe we will sneak on over to there as well. I'm not sure if Ethan will enjoy it or freak-out. Lindsey and I will likely consider this event, but might save it for a Date Escape later this year or early next year. http://www.medievaltimes.co...

   We found a great priced hotel using http://www.sidestep.com, and the hotel includes shuttle service to Disneyland so we don't have to drive and pay for parking. Very excited. Well, time for me to jet as the Great Mouse awaits.

   It is my second favorite time of the day: nap time. (My first favorite is when my wife comes home). Ethan knocks out like clockwork at 1:30 every day. He usually sleeps until 3:30-4:30 pm before he is up and running again. This little break gives me time to blog, study (graduate courses), clean, and otherwise catch my breath. The odd thing though is that some days the quiet isn't really all that great. Some days I really miss my son running around creating chaos and birthing havoc. Today is one of those days. I can't wait for him to wake-up again so we can hang-out together.

   As any parent knows that isn't an everyday thing. A few days I wish my son would take a super nap and wake-up around 8:00am the next morning. Those days are filled with screeching, crying, wailing, exhaustion, tantrums, throwing food, and other similar behaviors. Of course, those are all just from me. Ethan is worse. Thank God that those does are becoming rarer than they were a few months ago. Being stay-at-home can really wear one down.

   My wife and I have been talking a lot about our situation. I graduate in the Fall as I'll be finishing my final 3 unit senior sem course. During the Fall I'm going to start a serious job search. This search will hopefully take us out of Bakersfield. I really would like to find a job leading a team or doing creative work. After locating a position my wife will resign her job and will switch over to being stay-at-home herself.

   We thought the stay-at-home father thing made sense as she was making almost twice what I was at the time. What we've come to learn is that it just isn't natural for these roles to be reversed in this way. She is finding it hard to experience fulfillment from her job, and I am likewise finding it hard to have complete fulfillment from being stay-at-home. I need to be the provider, the protector, the hunter/gatherer. I hate to say it, but from this experience "old fashioned" seems to be a better choice.

    I don't think I am anywhere near over-the-hill at just the age of twenty seven, but right now I don't feel like a spring rabbit either. I've wrestled, I've practiced Jujitsu, I've even done a little kickboxing, trouble is that was all at least five or six years ago. Last week I decided I'd try to get back in and start rolling again. I work-out at least three times a week and have been doing so consistently since January. Of course, having trained before, I know that working-out only gets you so far. I just wish it would get me further. I used to be able to take a day or two off, now it seems like a week or two will work.

   Last week I rolled once and was sore for a few days. Last night I rolled again and wow my ribs are killing me. This isn't a remorseful pain. The hurt feels good. It feels like I've made an accomplishment. I feel like I've finally gotten my hind end of the couch and made some momentum. I feel like I shouldn't laugh or sneeze.

    This makes me think... parenting also causes a lot of pain, a lot of hurt, and a lot of bruises (both physical and emotional). Some days are a wild ride and we can only roll with the punches. Other days we have to dish out a serious booty whooping. Sometimes we get a chance to take a breather and nurse ourselves. If I can adopt the mindset that parenting pains are a sign of accomplishment then I think I'll do pretty good. Now I've got to go take a nice hot bath.

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    Oh Summer, how I love and loathe thee. Your hot days filled with sticky shirts, sweaty backs, and blistering skin. The scorching heat that I long for during winter is ironically disdained during your lengthy days. Your breath feels like a hair dryer overtaken with sadistic glee. Night offers shade yet little rest. Tossing and turning as my air conditioner wheezes in the night sucking in dollars and blowing out cold refreshing air.

    Yet, I cannot help but also be attracted to you. The sun parched land somehow drains energy in a dance of enervation, yet that lack of vitality has a certain pleasure that is hard to convey. Your lengthy days bring lethargy that is as a great stone forcing me to my knees. And there, close to the ground, I enjoy a lemonade and am grateful. For in your punishment are the multitudes of pleasures that can only be experienced concurrent with misery. Jumping into freezing water, playing with a garden hose, trying to make ice-pops out of every imaginable liquid, sitting in the backyard stripped to as little as legally allowable. Only by your presence can these things be relished.

   What a great travesty are Summer Mondays. A wonderful weekend filled with family, relaxation, and metamorphosis into a sloth is abruptly ended by the piercing screech of the alarm clock. Up I wake to bludgeon the offending clarion. Then the waters of Bath I unleash to wake my unforgiving body. Off to work my wife makes her way. And I, I stand missing that oh so great and loved part of myself that is her. Mondays, you wretched beasts, if ever I find a weapon capable of slaying those such as you... well then, I guess I'd have to loathe Tuesdays.

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    I've never had a better Fourth of July. The bar isn't exactly the highest. My previous Best Fourth was some time back when I enjoyed the evening with a lot of friends and ended up burning-off my eyebrows and a swath of my bangs. This Fourth far exceeded those experiences.

    We spent the 3rd lounging all day and really recharging our batteries. We discussed the possibility of a stay-cation and were pretty set on doing just that. At some point we had a shift of mindset and decided family obligations trumped our entropy driven motivation to wallow all weekend. Lindsey's Grandfather had a Shriner's picnic he had invited us to. We contacted the fam and let them know we would make our way over for the Fourth.

    Lindsey, Ethan and I made the trek to the beach to spend the festivities where her G-Pa and her family were. I had expected the roads to be choked with travelers, but to my great delight we found them mostly abandoned. I'm sure the absurdly high gas prices had some bit of play there. Of course, maybe it was just the luck of timing because the beach was swarming with folks. Beside the bad parking the swarms of people made it all the more enjoyable. It also helped that Ethan slept nearly the entire trip over. His Grandparents then watched him, which allowed Lindsey and I to go on a date.

    The weather was fantastic. We couldn't believe that we were actually a little nippy, and Lindsey even desired a jacket. Out on the beach the wind died down enough to allow us to enjoy the sun and cold water. We had a little drinky-drinky, played in the water, walked in the surf, and discovered a large boulder to lay against and enjoy the rhythm of the ocean. We purchased candy apples, fresh strawberries, and white peaches. After a fashion we asked around then went to a nice restaurant on a pier in Avila Beach. Everything equated to a fully indulgent time that will remain in fond memory.

    Aside: We noticed a very interesting phenomenon at the beach. In my estimation it would seem that salt water repels overweight kids. My evidence for this is anecdotal. I observed that a lot of skinny kids were playing in the ocean, slightly heftier kids were standing in the shallow surf, beef kids were up on the sand, and the super-sized kids were hanging back almost off the sand entirely. Of course, my wife thinking more logically than I decided that my hypothesis about salt water having the opposite charge of fat was completely off base. She insisted that I was actually just observing the level of activity. More active kids tended to engage in, well, activity.

    In the late afternoon we made the journey to Lindsey's Great Grandparent's home to meet-up with the rest of the fam. Upon arriving we were informed that the Great-G-Pa had played some guitar while the Ethanator danced in revelry. We spent the evening enjoying the company as four generations spent time together on our fine holiday. After dusk we watched the neighbors light-off some fireworks and then retired for the night to watch the end of Independence Day (corny, but whatever).

    The next day we decided to trek on down to Solvang for some Dutch oven made pastries. On the way we stopped at a miniature horse ranch and took in the sight of dozens of tiny horses roaming the pastures. I'd never seen horses that small, not even the ponies that kids ride for a couple of bucks. Solvang was a little warmer than we would have liked, but we had lunch at a nice cafe. At about that time Ethan's fuse burnt to the powder keg and he blew. We decided that would be a fantastic time to head back home with our winnings. Which, as it turned out, Ethan was grumpy because he was tired. He slept all the way back to Bako.

    On Sunday we spent the day painting and tricking-out out laundry room. It now has a coffee shop motif and canary yellow walls to brighten the room. It is like walking into a slice of France, or maybe Greenwich Village with a washer and dryer. The room looks fantastically better. The only drawback is my ongoing desire to have an espresso and bagette in there.

    To sum everything up: Wow, what a Fourth of July!

The horse ranch: http://qsminis.com/

     Lounging on the couch with a cold drink in hand while TV adds proclaim 'new', and 'improved'. The ceiling fan whines with a dull drone as a fly buzzes lazily around the room. I doze ever so slightly, waiting for the afternoon soaps to start. My child is somewhere, doing something, and probably covered in dirt, but I am busy relaxing.

     That seems to be the image that a lot of people have of stay-at-home parents, be they father or mother. We think somehow these people have it easier than the poor working sods that drive to and fro working their busy-bee life. I know that at one time I thought the same way; at one time.

     A little bit of anger would enter into my mind any time I saw a stay-at-home mom whose appearance was not maintained, who wasn't in-shape, whose kids were running amok. I thought to myself, "You don't do anything, how could you be that way?" Looking back, I know by how far I missed the mark. And, of course, I didn't even know there was such a thing as a stay-at-home father. That idea seemed somewhat like a Sasquatch emerging from the forest to offer me a perfectly made club-sandwich complete with home-style fries.

    I've been a stay-at-home father for approximately nine months, and I can tell you a few of my attitudes and beliefs have changed. I spend a great deal of time dealing with the daily rigors of Routine. A word which stopped being just a word and became an entity. Just as in the Poltergeist films, it hovers somewhere just beyond visual recognition and lives in the static filled space between channels. Routine if a fierce foe that eviscerates willpower and decimates progress.

    Routine isn't the only monster that bares its teeth and attempts to wound. Along with Routine a gibbering horde lurks about. Boredom stands tall and ever present, a vampire waiting to suck away the lifeblood of determination. Isolation stands off to one side attempting to lure one from the trail with an apple only to be trapped by oneself. Depression, a hulking beast that can pummel with giant fists and reduce enjoyment to unrecognizable granules. These foes and more are accounted in the land of Stay-at-Home.

    When I was in the working world accomplishments occurred though they were sometimes rare. I, at least had the chance to complete some task and move-on, never to return again. This is not the case with stay-at-home life. I cook, I clean, I do what needs to be done. Unfortunately, that is pretty much a rubber stamp for everyday. It is hard to revel in an accomplishment when I know that tomorrow I must make the same one, and the day after that, and the day after that, ad infinitum.

    It also doesn't help that for all of the work and repetition I don't see a paycheck. I do receive a paycheck of sorts that more than compensates for all my work. When my wife comes home and is able to take peace in her home I am elated. Her praise, her smile, her comfort, and her love all give far grater returns than I can express. On a day like that all accounts are paid in full and the toil worth the salt.

    I do not wish to say that the land of Stay-at-Home is not without merit. That would be the furthest from the truth. Nearly every day is filled with the warm glowing light of love, of caring, and of parenting. I vanquish the foes as they step forward, and together my son and I slay monsters. We giggle, we laugh, we run around the house and backyard. He learns, he grows, he changes. Together we make progress.

    Not all of the concepts I had have been discarded. I still believe that a stay-at-home parent should keep their appearances up, and should try to be in shape. I make it a point to get to the gym at least 2-3 times a week. Most gyms now offer child care for a reasonably low rate, which provides time to work-out and time to space-out. I no longer have the image of a leisurely day awaiting a stay-at-home parent when their spouse leaves to work. My day does not consist of lounging under a fan, drinking an icy beverage, and watching soaps. Rather, my day consists of fighting rampaging monsters while finding the time to give my son the attention he deserves. One thing, however, I have definitely learned to accept: amok those kids will run.