If you’ve been reading our blog or following us on Twitter, you’re likely aware that I’m a stay-at-home Dad.  I appreciate being able to spend each day with my daughter; it’s fortunate that Jill and I are financially able to do this.  We know that for most families, especially here in California where the cost of living is high, having one parent stay home to raise a child is simply not an option.  It is our hope that my staying home with our daughter will ensure a very close bond between her and I throughout her life.

However, I was completely unprepared for the reality of day-to-day life as a stay-at-home Dad.  It’s not bad, so I don’t want to give the impression that I’m complaining in any way.  But it was a huge adjustment given my lack of experience with babies.  Any parent – or for that matter any individual who spends the majority of his or her day with young children – needs a strong support system.  It is vital that after hours spent participating in child-friendly activities including reading storybooks, watching cartoons, and playing in the park, one is able to administer an antidote.

This antidote comes in many forms.  For some parents it’s a couple rounds with the guys.  For others it’s a babysitter who watches the kids so the parents can have a nice dinner alone.  For others it’s an hour or so of quiet decompression while the baby is napping.  In some cases it’s as simple as just not reading stories, listening to the SpongeBob SquarePants theme song, or changing diapers.

I am sufficiently confident in myself as a stay-at-home Dad to admit that I’d prefer my daily life if I was guaranteed a couple hours to myself.  I often have time to myself when the baby naps, but there’s no guarantee that she will.  On the days when she doesn’t, I run out of energy before she does, and am even less productive than normal as a result.  A couple hours’ down time is not an unusual or unreasonable request, but for various reasons there is literally no one with whom I can leave my daughter on even an occasional basis.  Having someone watch her for an hour or two on a typical weekday so I can get things done – usually errands, something that needs doing around the house, or perhaps a few pages of writing – is such a rare occurrence that I literally can’t remember the last time it happened.  To give you an idea of just how rare it is, back in November I blogged about the travails of being a stay-at-home Dad, with the focus of the post being the way my daughter has thrown a wrench into my hitherto very active masturbation schedule.  Now, though?  I didn’t even mention masturbation as something I would do if I had a few hours alone.  Sure, I’d love to be able to get myself off more often than I do, but the fact is that I’m so swamped with real life that masturbating isn’t even on the horizon.  I may be able to cop off quickly during or following my morning shower or while the baby sleeps, but I need much larger blocks of time to do real things that absolutely need to be done.

Even when I’m saddled with my daughter – and I mean “saddled” in the nicest possible way – it would be great to have someone to talk to and relate to, and who can relate to me.  But my friends, both those with kids and those as-yet childless, have jobs.  Meeting up with a friend for a spontaneous lunch is something that happens so infrequently that I might be forgiven for using the word “never”.  When it does occur, we usually find ourselves talking current events, politics, or relationships, and not child issues.  Awhile back, I was talking to one of Jill’s siblings or siblings-in-law, who suggested that I join a mommy-and-me group.  My initial scoffing was met with assurances that men do join such social groups.  I don’t dispute this fact, though I certainly don’t feel that such a thing is right for me.  Yes, men may join mommy-and-me groups.  But married men as flirtatious as I?  Before you could say, “here comes that creepy dad” I’d be branded the creepy dad and ostracized from the circle.

It’s just as well, really.  I don’t want to awkwardly shoehorn myself into a pre-existing social group unless the eventual purpose is group sex.  I don’t want to discuss the social merits of Caillou or debate the pros and cons of Barney the Dinosaur.  I don’t want to talk about scrapbooking or clip coupons.  I don’t want to meet at the park and gossip about celebrity couples or American Idol or whatever the fuck it is that mommy-and-me groups do while the kids are playing.  Bring juice boxes and oranges?  Sounds like you’re just giving me an errand at this point.  No, if I’m going to talk shop with moms to whom I have no familial obligation, I’d like to be able to quickly shift from talking about parenting strategies to talking about how nice their cleavage looks in that top.  Which is not to say that I get off on sexually-harrassing virtual strangers; quite the opposite, actually.

Lately, however, I find that more than a few of the online friends I’ve made through blogging and Twitter are stay-at-home Moms.  In many cases, these are people I’ve interacted (i.e. flirted) with already, which makes the segue from parenting talk to sexy talk not only possible, but easy.  And while these friends sometimes help to provide an erotic spark in the middle of the occasional dreary day, they are also people I can talk to when my daughter is feeling sick, won’t eat her lunch, or is displaying the early stages of an attitude.  In most cases, they’ve been there, and can provide perspective as well as advice if needed.  I like this arrangement.

Are there any stay-at-home Moms (or Dads) reading this?  How do you cope with the isolation, or for that matter, the immersion in all things baby?

-Jack