There's a certain amount of guilt that I feel whenever I have a "day off" from taking care of my son. This includes both extended periods of separation overnight and even short single-day excursions. I know it may seem crazy to many people but it's a natural reaction to the way that my life now works.
Life has a natural ebb and flow. There are periods when it doesn't seem like we can slow down to take a breath. Alternately, there are the times when it's all puppies and sunshine and relaxed weekends. The last few weeks, there haven't been many puppies or relaxed weekends (there's still been sunshine, though). It has been nutty busy here. My wife has been working a ton and I've stepped up more than usual to make sure the house doesn't add more of a burden, to free her up as much as possible to be successful.
As a reaction, my wife declared "The Day of Phil" two weeks ago. She explicitly told me that I was to take a Saturday and do whatever I wanted. She would take our son and I would be free to do as I may. (No, this did not include debauchery. Get your minds back on track.) She told me to sleep in, explore the city, or even work (yes, long stretches of free time to work is a novelty and considered relaxing to me these days). It was a nice recognition from her for the weight that I've pulled around the house. It felt good.
As the week went on and The Day of Phil approached, the feeling of guilt that I described really came over me in earnest. However, I was determined to enjoy the day of freedom without my "extra appendage" as Angie called him recently.
Now, if someone gave you a day to do anything you wanted, including sleeping in as late as you wanted, what would you do? The start of my day is a perfect example of how my life has changed. I didn't sleep in. I actually let Angie sleep in and I got up with our son. (She let me sleep in the next day still.)
My new jogging stroller arrived that week and I was dying to try it out. What has happened to me? I was given the chance to catch up on sleep and I'd rather get up to try out a new stroller with giddy excitement.
Our son was pretty intrigued by the stroller and kept inspecting it all week...
...with excited results.
I've become such a giant dork. Some would tell you that this was always my natural state. Do not believe these people. They have some sort of dark ulterior motive, the goals of which are shady and sure to be destructive. Now, however... giant dork.
I was more excited about that stroller after my run than before, which seems just about impossible. In short, I love it. So does our son. I think I'm going to do a post solely about the stroller. I'm telling you, it's love. LOVE!
And you know what? I'm totally satisfied with that decision. It's one I'd make again because I had a blast running with my kid in that stroller.
So after the run, it was off for the solo part of my day. I went to the Virginia Museum of Fine Art, a place I'd been wanting to check out since we moved to Richmond. I walked around a bit and grabbed a late lunch. The freedom was fantastic. It was also strange. Every now and again, I caught myself looking for where my son had run off to or looking up thinking I'd heard him.
Within the structure of my family, my role is, primarily, to take care of my son. As much as I enjoy it, it's also my job and I feel a certain level of obligation to do it to the best of my ability- both for my wife and to ensure that my son doesn't turn out to be some sort of broken wing-nut.
The strange thing is that I have a tough time turning that part of myself off when my wife is around. I continue to feel like I should be the one doing the bulk of the work with our kid when, really, it should be an even split. But since I live with my "work," there's no real separation for me. So when she takes him for more than a few hours on her own, it's difficult for me to feel like I'm not shirking my responsibilities.
(My wife is an amazing mother who can handle any situation thrown her way. I have full confidence in her. These feelings are completely my own and come from a place of wanting to do my job for my family. I feel like I should throw that out there for anyone who may be questioning my wife at this point. This is all me.)
I've talked with other stay-at-home parents about this and I've heard varying levels of agreement with this feeling. It's the kind of job without vacation days or sick days. When I have a migraine, I tough it out and do my best. That's not a complaint. It's a recognition of the reality of being an at-home parent.
Since there is so little space between my independent life and my life with my son, the two can blend into one big miasma. The danger is losing yourself to the job because you love your kid so much and pour so much of yourself into them.
I have an all-day conference to attend tomorrow related to my work. I won't be there when my son wakes up or goes to bed. It will be an entire day without him. Guess who's already feeling guilty about that... With recognition of the pattern though, I'm hoping I can break out of it.
Perhaps I need a few free days here and there so I can shake these feelings. Being the most well-rounded and grounded person I can be is the best way to ensure that I'll be the best father I can be.
I'm going to Philadelphia in a month for two days. How much you want to bet I'll still feel bad about it?
(Geez, this post made me sound like a crazy person!)
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