Diaper Dad: Diary of a Stay-at-Home Father

Today, Baby turns 3 years, 10 months, and 7 days. Diaper Dad is in his mid 40s; actually he'll turn 45 next February.

Ever since this morning, Baby has been asking Diaper Dad to go to the park. The two of them haven't been to the park in months, since June or something like that. And it's near the end of August. So where did Baby get the idea that it was time to visit the park again? Did she dream about playing in the park last night?

Anyway, Diaper Dad has a full plate of to-dos, and he's hoping Baby will soon drop her park talk.

The pair go to Wal-Mart, where Diaper Dad wired some funds to his native country via MoneyGram. Baby enjoyed the ride in the cart, as Diaper Dad pushes the cart from the outside of the store, into the store, around a couple of aisles of the store, before they ride out of the store.

For the past few days, Baby has been sitting on the main seat of the car. She has outgrown her car seat, and the booster car seat is in Working Mom's car; she's gone to work. The money is not there now to buy a second booster seat for the other car, the stay-at-home one.

By the time Diaper Dad and Baby get back to the house, she has won the promise of a trip to the park. She says, "Deal?", and Diaper Dad, replies, "Deal!"

Meanwhile, Diaper Dad wants to buy some more time. "I have to call my friend on the phone. Let's eat lunch first. Where's my phone? I think my phone is in your mom's car, and she's gone to work."

Baby keeps saying, "I thought we are going to the park. Let's go to the park."

Diaper Dad: "But I don't want to go to the park."

Baby: "Don't say that. I want to go to the park."

Diaper Dad: "But..."

Baby: "No but"

Diaper Dad: "What?"

Baby: "No but. Don't say but."

Diaper Dad can hardly believe his ears. That's the latest first from Baby. "No but! Where did she learn to say that? Not from me!"

For lunch the pair eat some long-grain brown organic rice with roasted chicken and sardines mixed with onions. Working Mom bought the chicken, sardines-in-olive-oil, and onions, when she did grocery last night.

At long last, by Baby's watch, the both of them get in the car and head for Moreland Park, the closest park to their home.

Once on the playground, where she's in a rush to reach, Baby and a little boy quickly make friends and start chasing each other, while Diaper Dad finds a good spot to sit and read Chapter 4 of the book Living On The Ragged Edge . The chapter title is "More Miles of Bad Road". Not that Diaper Dad and Baby took a bumpy road to the park, but that's a rabbit trail not worth chasing.

As Diaper Dad reads, he lifts his head now and then to look and see what's up with Baby and her new friend, who has tried at least five times to scare Baby by sounding like a monster and scratching around with his hands as though they are the paws of some mean giant beast. Every time the little boy does the monster sound, Baby just stands there and stares at him, totally cool, calm and collected.

About ten minutes or so later, an older gentleman calls Diaper Dad's attention: "Sir, I think your little girl has a problem over here. She needs help. Wet pants. I have some diapers, the pull-up kind. Do you want one?"

Diaper Dad thanks the gentleman, but passes up the offer. He walks to the playhouse, and true enough, Baby's shorts have pee on the front and around, underneath her buttocks. The little guy, her new friend plus another kid, a girl, stand there with a concern look on each of their innocent faces, kind of feeling sorry for the little girl with the wet bottom. They might have been reflecting on their days of mistakes in the not-too-distant past.

Baby has never done anything like this before, since she became potty-trained. What happened to her? Too much excitement?

Baby and Diaper Dad walk to the park's restroom, to the Men's side.

" There's the commode, do you want to use it?" Diaper Dad asks.

Baby shows no interest whatsoever. She surveys the cubicle, carefully walking the walls, the ceiling, the floor, and the commode with her dark brown eyes, probably thinking, "This place is really dirty! I can't sit on that and pee in there!"

About two minutes later, she says, "Can I have some tissue let me clean myself?"

She seems to have no more pee left. They have to leave immediately, because Diaper Dad has no pull-up or pantie in the car. Baby sits, buckles up and asks for some Heart2Heart crackers.

Back in the driveway, as Baby slowly makes her way out of the 2002 model car, as though wanting to separate herself from her wet pants and pantie, she says, "Dad, I think the seat peed."

" No, the seat didn't pee; you peed," Diaper Dad corrects her.

Baby insists it's the seat that peed, and the pee got on her. Diaper Dad loses the argument and gives up. They enter the house to change Baby's wet pantie and pants. But instead of another pantie, he gets Baby to wear a pull-up, which she normally frowns on, except at bedtime. But this time Baby does not debate wearing the pull-up, for obvious reasons.

Now, she wants to return to the park, but Diaper Dad is no mood for a re-run.

"Can we go to the park?" Baby continues asking.

A few minutes later, the house is completely quiet. Diaper Dad lifts his head to look over the banister from the kitchen, and there is Baby sucking her thumb, slumped on the floor, sound asleep. Nap time.

Finally, Diaper Dad can catch up on some much-needed work.

Cohabitation: Shack Up to Break Up?

Cohabitation is just a big word for shacking up, which is two people living together before marriage or instead of marriage. It is like being husband and wife but without the wedding ceremony, without the marriage license. Shacking up is as close to a free ride as you can get in the arena of sexual relationships.

People who take the "shack up" path convince themselves that cohabitation is better to their relationship than marriage. Here are some reasons why people shack up:

1. The attitude that says "Marriage is only a piece of paper". This was the overriding attitude of Americans in the 1960s and 1970s. Those with this attitude seek to avoid marriage, because they somehow despise marriage, especially for the expectations that come with marriage.
   
2. Living together is a "test drive" for marriage. The cohabiting couple mistakenly believe that if they shack up before they get married, they will improve the chances of their marriage succeeding. That's what they think until they get hit with the facts that cohabiting will actually endanger their success in marriage. Research shows that five to seven years of shacking up point to the following reality: 39% chance that the couple will break up; 40% chance that you'll marry the person, with up to 80% chance that the marriage will end in divorce; 21% chance that you will continue to shack up with the person and keep delaying marriage. Shacking up becomes a game of chicken, a cop out from saying "I do".Fear of marriage. Why would a couple be afraid to marry? One reason may be that they saw their parents divorce and they want no part of such breakups. Cohabitation becomes the safer option to avoid the sense of failure that divorce brings.
3. Negative effect on income. I have spoken with cohabiting couples who said getting married would mean a pay cut. Say what? Yes, they actually say, "If we get married, the government will reduce the Social Security check." If that is true, then the tax laws of the United States need to change to favor marriage rather than discourage it. However, resisting marriage because your income may go down reveals a screwed up sense of priority that clearly rates money as more important than marriage or love. How can you say, "I love you enough to die for you", if you are not willing to pay the easier price of less money?
   

All in all, if you choose to shack up, you set yourself up to break up. And if you don't break up, you still pay the social price of less respect from people who know you are shacking up. And you know too that you deserve less respect for not doing "the right thing", the responsible thing ~ get married!