Big Daddy Paul

Just so there is no misunderstanding, this post is not about how hot I think Luke is, and how this upsets Randy. No, I like all the guys in my stay at home dad’s group equally (even if they all hate me!) I speak today of Malcolm and the lurid details of the little girls he spends time with every monday afternoon. While I thought the kids were developing healthy and fun relationships with each other, they were actually spinning a web of lies and deceit, a social scene of such intrigue that it makes Dangerous Liasons seem like a hug fest. After drafting the story up, though, I realized that it was a little lame. To spice it up a bit, the part of Malcolm will be played by a high school freshman who thinks he is a rapper, and I will be played by a Francophile librarian who is relating the story to the large herd of cats he keeps in his apartment.

The drama hung thick in the air at dad’s group on Monday, little ones. Malcolm and Samara made a fine couple on the play structure with each other. When some other kids got there, Samara was all of a sudden playing with a younger man. His name was Hudson and he had the dashing looks of a pre-pubscent Harrison Ford. Oh, the ribaldry! Hudson, a provocateur glad to have all the attention he was suddenly getting, smiled, sending Malcolm into fits of jealous rage, yelling “I’m a stone cold killa! ”  Hudson had no idea what his part was in this tawdry affair, but quickly was handed the business end of a long, slow tackle that ended only when Samara went elsewhere and started sweet talking the hunk holding the Pirate Booty.

Mia, Samara and Meredith with Malcolm

Later, Malcolm was able to convince Meredith and Mia to play house under one of the tables. A walk on the spicy side, that is for sure, but it ended abruptly when the girls held hands and announced that Malcolm was a boy and they couldn’t play with him any more. Mee-yow! Malcolm shouted, “AH-HEARGH! Yallz a bunch of beeyotches anyhow.” I consoled his broken heart little ones, but I fear the sadness of a forbidden love that would never come to pass was more than his little heart could take. He sat down and ate his lunch quietly.  (Notably, he did NOT sit next to Samara, who was still plopped down next to the Pirate Booty guy. Harlot!)

Finally, Priya showed up. Her dad brought goodies for the kids, but Priya didn’t want to tell anyone what the goodies were. Merde! (Sorry Stu!) Evidently, Priya wanted to dangle her savory concoctions over the other kids until their sense of excitement could not be contained! Malcolm told her to “quit frontin’” or she was “gonna get jacked.” Not wanting that, Priya finally opened the goodie bag to reveal she had brought Mini M & M’s and cupcakes to share with all the children, a true bon vivant! After all the other kids had their cupcakes and left, Malcolm and Priya were left at the park to play, two islands in a deserted sea free to enjoy what each other had to offer. Priya would coyly take Malcolm’s hand into her own, and Malcolm would reply, “Bring that sweet bootie over here baby girl, you fine!”  The end of the afternoon was simply splendid, no drama, no tears.

Until next week, little ones. Until next week.

This is not an exhaustive study of men and women who have kids. It is not intended to generalize about all parents; many men and many women act differently than portrayed here. This is merely my recollection of two recent conversations. One is a group of moms talking while watching our kids at swim class during the week. (From the sounds of things, they are all either part time or full time stay at home moms.) The other is a conversation between dads at my stay at home dad’s group.

Mom 1:

Two kids is DEFINITELY enough for us. I would love to get my tubes tied, especially since it is so painful for me to ovulate. It would be so much easier, though, for my husband to get snipped. I mean, it is REALLY painful when I ovulate. I should have just gotten my tubes tied after my second (baby) was born.

Dad 1:

We’re going camping this weekend. Should we drink beers or margaritas?

Mom 2:

My husband’s mom just died. I’m kinda jealous because he got to spend a whole week back east with his brother wrapping up the estate. That would be sooo nice, just being able to sleep in and getting a break. I’m sorta mad because I am missing my college friend’s wedding because I can’t leave the kids with Jim for the weekend. I really need a break, a week alone would be so nice.

I don't what they are talking about, but you aint missing much...

Dad 2:

I was at the park once with Urbansky when his kid ate goose poop. I mean, I sat there and watched the kid pick up a huge tube of the stuff and plopped it straight in his mouth.

Did you do anything to stop it?

I told Urbansky about it, but I don’t think he was paying attention. The kid did it three times.

Mom 3 (mind you this it the fourth week of class, most of these people didn’t know each other a month ago):

Neither one of our kids was planned. We used to use condoms, but after the first one was born, we decided they were too unreliable. So, I started using an IUD. I bled too much using it though, so I just went on the pill. We had our second one even though we only had sex once in a two month stretch.

Dad 3 (to another dad who has been at the same play dates for three months):

Hey good to see you dude.

Well, I saw that this place was on Keller Ave, so we had to come.

What’s so special about Keller Ave?

My daughter’s name is  Keller.

Oh, right.

Today, Malcolm and I had a marathon session of baseball at the park (yay!). During our two and a half hours of batting practice and catch, we discovered that we each needed to pee.  I thought about this and realized that we stay at home dads have some altogether different choices that we need to make when we are out in the world.  Here are a couple of them:

Where Do We Pee?

As a veteran stay at home parent, I should always ask my child before we leave whether he needs to go to the bathroom.  However, we are usually late to wherever we are going and I am usually yelling at him, so I am not as composed as perhaps I should be.  I often find that he has to go to the bathroom, and after a bit of checking, I realize that I do too.  Today, when it became apparent that we needed to pee, i realized that the bathrooms are located about a half mile away.  So, it was either gather up all our stuff, walk across the park, and interrupt what was a stellar hitting session, or drop trou and hide behind the tree.  Malcolm  once peed on the grass at Pier 39, so this wasn’t the most public place that Malcolm has gone.

Should I Have a Second Beer?

I go to a playgroup every monday.  It is chock full of stay at home dads, and after we make small talk for around half an hour, we wander over to the picnic area, start up the grill and open the cooler.  Our coolers are quite extraordinary, filled with half juice boxes and half beer, and that is on a good day.  Usually, we forget the juiceboxes and make the kids drink out of the fountain.  Lately it has been pretty hot during the day, and the cooler beckons often.  I try to resist its siren-like calls, but when it is 97 degrees (like it was on Monday) sometimes I give in.  I feel guilty, not because drinking 2 beers in 4 hours while at the park is dangerous, but because when I reach into the cooler to grab a cold one, the kids are all disappointed that there is nothing in there for them.

Do I Talk to Random Guys at the Playground?

There are a lot of stay at home dads out there.  There are also many dads who have alternate schedules which allow them to chaperone their kids to the park during the day.  I never know what to do when I come into contact with these other guys at the park when I see them.  My conscience tells me to strike up a conversation with them and spread the word that there are many of us out there.  My brain tells me to shut up, because, I don’t know if you know this, stay at home dads are weird.  It takes a certain something to buck societal roles, and that something is not something that I ever want to come into contact with.  I worry that I would get stuck talking to some bizarre personality who would distract me from my real duty, playing with my IPhone.  So, most of the time, I ignore every other fella I meet.  Unless he is playing with his IPhone, then I know he’s cool.

I took Malcolm to a Baseball Game yesterday.  This wasn’t his first game, as I dutifully took him to games when he was an infant.  This was, however, his first game as a little person, able to both talk in complete sentences and use the men’s room. (I am definitely not counting our first trip to the Oakland Coliseum as a “trip to the men’s room.”) I considered the game a test run, as the tickets only cost $2 and I wanted to make sure Malcolm would be OK at a game before I shelled out serious money to take him to see a real team, the Giants. We had a pretty good time and lasted until the 7th inning.  I think we’ll go to another game this year, as long as he is able to enjoy the things that he did yesterday.

Malcolm loves hot dogs.  This week, he has loved them off the grill at dad’s group, out of the microwave at IKEA, and from out of whatever-the-hell-they-use-at-the-ballpark.  That’s three straight days of lips and assholes, (it’s almost like he’s at Burning Man!)  I would have suggested something else today (like nachos, sweet nachos) but the hot dogs only cost 1 dollar, and there was no way that the dads from my dad’s group and I were going to pay more than a few bucks on food.  Perhaps it was this general interest in a cheap date that made me boycott beer for the first time in my life, and I refused to spend $8 on a tea cup full of bud light.  A half hour later, and 8 Oakland A’s runs later, I had 10 hot dogs and I returned to the group to find that Malcolm had run off and the kids were generally uninterested in baseball. Malcolm loved his dog and a half, and after I had eaten my two and half dollars’ worth, I wish I had eaten nachos.

Malcolm loves running around with his friends.  We were there with my friends from dad’s group, so Malcolm had his full compliment of cohorts to get into trouble with.  We couldn’t really see anything since the $2 seats give you a view similar to that from the Hubble Space Telescope, so Malcolm decided the best way to enjoy the game was to run races around the handicap seating area.  This lasted until the very large, very mean security guard came and told us that the kids really shouldn’t be running around like that.  My initial thought, “Well, you really shouldn’t be wearing a mustache like that,” never made it out of my mouth, and we reluctantly corralled the kids back to our area.

Malcolm loves ice cream.  Amy’s mom was in town and had promised to make brownies with Malcolm after his nap.  He had been offered cookies at the park, which I said he could have in lieu of brownies, which he politely declined.  (Delayed gratification in a 3 year old, I love this kid!) When his friend Priya announced that she wanted cotton candy, Malcolm joined in the chorus saying, “I want cotton candy too! What is cotton candy?”  When offered the choice between this strange cotton candy phenomenon, he stuck to the know qualities of brownies.  That lasted only until the ice cream guy showed up.  More specifically, the guy pedaled ice cream sandwiches, two chocolate cookies with vanilla ice cream in the middle.  Malcolm told me that he really wanted one and that he no longer wanted to make brownies with grammy.  It was getting warmer and I thought he actually made a good decision, and isn’t that what parenting is all about? So he had a fantastic ice cream sandwich and enjoyed himself greatly.

We’ll probably be checking out the Giants later this summer, as long as the following conditions are met.  First, the tickets can cost no more than $4.  Total food expenditures cannot exceed $10.  He must have at least 5 friends to play with, and everyone needs to sit together.  Now that I think about it, maybe we won’t be going to anymore games…