“Mommy for a Day”
I love being a dad to our two wonderful little girls. I am very fortunate to have the kind of schedule where I get to play with them every day, and we have grown so close that I am almost as important to my children as my lovely wife is.
Almost.
We both work hard to raise our children and to take care of business, but as the aforementioned lovely wife pointed out in her post, I have the luxury of time all to myself. Completely off-duty! This doesn’t quite happen as much as it did when we had just the one kid, and the “man-cave” has given way to a toy room.
OK, to be fair, the piles of toys have almost as much to do with my compulsions as the man-cave did, and are almost as much fun.
Being Dad is the best, but I have often wondered what it would be like to be Mom to our girls. I suppose there is a childish element involved (“No fair! I want to make people!”), but mostly I wonder what it was like to create life and make milk to nourish that life. Like so many men before me, I am in awe of the power of women. Unlike some of them, I have absolutely no desire to oppress this power. I prefer to bask in it.
But, I digress… I cannot possibly fathom how awesome and surreal it must be to slowly develop a sense of a having a being within that becomes more and more (but never completely) a separate entity. As horrible as the thoughts of labor and delivery are, I would love to know about those other things. Sure, there has certainly been an amount of polite props given to the guy involved in this creation, but in my opinion I just handed over half the blueprints and settled in to a supporting role. Oh well, I’ll never know the love and joy of a mother’s unique bond with her children. However, I feel overwhelming gratitude that I do know a lot about the love and joy of a father’s unique bond. Something too many in my generation cast aside as inferior to wealth, power, or celebrity.
I wouldn’t trade in my role as Dad for anything. But, reading my wife’s post prompted me to ponder what it would be like to switch roles. It is always good to cultivate appreciation for my wife, so let me indulge that fantasy for a bit…
First, I would need more than one day. I need one more than the number of days it takes my little one to be weaned. I love attachment parenting when it’s someone else’s nipples we’re talking about. Mine couldn’t take it. I would need some sort of Rocky-style montage of me toughening up my teats.
Once I get her to take a bottle from me, then I would be all set to enjoy that extra day. I would probably wake up in the morning exhausted from having a wriggly little cutey squirming next to me all night. As Dad in the family bed, my current job consists of fetching water for Viva and getting kicked in the nuts. My wife and baby daughter always look so exquisite, curled around each other next to the safety rail. I would ameliorate my exhaustion by planning to spend my day in pajamas and to incorporate a nice long nap into my plan.
OK, time for a disclaimer: I do not at all think that this is a typical day for a stay-at-home-mom. This is merely what I would tell myself to help me get up.
I totally would do it too. Give me a break! In this scenario I only get one day, so I am going to live it up! It would be so fantastic to spend the whole day with my youngest. I would be down to change a mountain of diapers if I could just be with her. Of course, she is not screaming at the moment, so it is easy to make this claim. When she napped, I would level up my Jedi or maybe watch a show. I would probably have a beer at 12:01 PM. I might do some housework if the kid were amenable, but I might just do one more flashpoint first…
But, mostly, Pringles and I would play and bond. I would be there for all of her delightful cutenesses and milestones instead of sneaking a peek at text messages from my wife detailing them. I would hear for myself the sound of her infectious laughter and comfort her after a fall (she is quite the acrobat). Even though my time would never truly be mine, I think it would be worth it to have that kind of relationship with my girls. And, I could probably arrange something that closely approximates “me” time. Maybe when my hard-working wife gets home she can watch the kids while I do a little writing.
Oh, crap – that reminds me. I should go help my wife get the kids to bed.
Happy Father’s Day to all of you! And thank you for indulging my first attempt at blogging.
The Friendly Pedant by Mrs. Odie 
Adam Carolla doesn’t think I’m funny
A reporter asked Adam Carolla if he hated working with women writers on a comedy show and he replied “they make you hire a certain number of chicks, and they’re always the least funny on the writing staff. The reason why you know more funny dudes than funny chicks is that dudes are funnier than chicks.”
Women aren’t as funny as men. Excuse me “chicks” aren’t as funny as “dudes.” Men like Adam Carolla believe this because they probably subscribe to the point of view that vampires and humans shouldn’t co-exist because humans are food.
Let me explain.
There are two kinds of vampires. The kind that believe human beings are prey and should be treated as such, and their counterparts who see humans as friends, lovers, and employees. This is a source of much conflict among vampires. I’m sure you can imagine.
Similarly, many men feel that a woman is merely a vagina life-support system. The only reason to treat a woman like a person is to get to her vagina. A sense of humor is an effective tool for convincing a woman to share her vagina, especially for men who are ugly and/or poor.
I imagine that vampires with less charm and good looks fall back on the “why talk to a steak?” argument. Also, the ones with short, stubby fangs.
When you ask a woman what she looks for in a man, she will often say “a sense of humor.” She means that she wants to laugh. She wants to have a good time with her mate. Laughing feels wonderful. It bonds people.
Men often say the same thing, but they mean “I want a woman who thinks I’m funny.”
Men and women tend to laugh at different things. I used to date a man I’ll call Carl. One morning, I made omelets for Carl and me. When I sat down in the living room with my food, he was watching a movie called “Joe Dirt.” It was a scene with a septic tank exploding. Carl laughed until he was crying. I threw up on the coffee table. Then he laughed even harder.
The food is not supposed to be your friend, says the Vampire. (In the above example, it sure wasn’t). A woman, or rather a chick, is not supposed to use seduction tools made for men. Jokes make women have sex with you! It freaks some men out when women tell them.
Funny, powerful, rich, smart, successful. These are adjectives describing a desirable man. Men like Carolla don’t want women to have qualities that get us in bed.
What qualities are we supposed to have? Sexy is generally the first thing a man wants in a sex partner. I’ve never heard a man say, “Man, she turns me on! She’s just so fucking FUNNY!”
The ability to make people laugh is power. Some men can’t handle powerful women. Or rather, powerful women won’t allow themselves to be handled. We’re supposed to be young, sexy playthings for men. When we grow old and/or fat, we’re supposed to go away.
Recently, a woman auditioned for “America’s Got Talent” and the clip went viral. It showed an overweight redhead pole dancing. People laughed at it and pronounced it disgusting and hilarious.
See? Women ARE funny!
When the fat ones attempt to be anything but a source of derision or a reminder to other women that they must be attractive above all else, they are fucking hilarious. What makes me even more furious is the show should be called “America Has Talent.”
Now is the part where you call me bitter because I’m fat and old.
I am most certainly fat. I haven’t lost the weight I gained when I got pregnant twice in the past four years. If I go by Jessica Simpson’s press, I should be fucking shot.
Simpson gained weight during her pregnancy (unlike classier pregnant women who win Oscars), and people lost their shit! How dare she? What was she thinking? She even talked openly about eating brownies instead of dieting and exercising. What a whore. Thank God she joined Weight Watchers because soon we’ll be able to like her again.
I’ve been in writers rooms on sitcoms and the women in the room were sometimes as funny as the men, funnier other times, and less funny still others. Like all funny people, women have good jokes and bad jokes. What bothers me is that women can’t just be funny. We also have to be pretty. Tina Fey got thin. Kristin Wiig has to be sexy when she’s out of costume. If you want an Oscar for writing, look like Diablo Cody. Reporters went crazy over Olivia Munn. “Can a woman be beautiful, sexy and smart too?” The headlines screamed in a panic. It’s like they’re afraid that as they’re masturbating over her picture, she’s thinking of a really snappy comeback.
I’m so glad Adam Carolla came out of the closet as a jerk. He complained about being held up to the standards of a school teacher when he’s a comedian, and how unfair that all is. Well, Adam, I’m just a woman, so I don’t know much about this “unfairness” you speak of. As a comedian, I think nothing is off-limits. What every comedian knows, however, is that we don’t get to decide what’s funny and what isn’t. The audience does.
And in your case, it has.
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