Ninja Monkie Bacchanal

I was reading this blog this morning and realized that I don’t have this issue.  I don’t have this issue because my wife is a wonderful woman.  She stays home with the kids.  She is a stay-at-home-mom, but even so, I don’t possess the patience or resources to take care of healthy, let alone sick, kids all day long.  After a few hours, I would lock them in a closet and called it a day. BTW, most parenting guides discourage this behavior I have found.  Anyway, my wife makes it look all so easy.  And I love her for it.

My indoctrination into the politics of sick days—my wake-up call that combining work and motherhood involved inescapable rocks and hard places—came 10 years ago when our infant son got sick with a fever the day of a presentation I had to give. I blithely asked my husband to stay home with our child. I quickly saw evidence that men, especially primary breadwinners, suffer peer pressure at work as severe as everything I lived through in seventh grade, except that our financial future was at risk rather than my slot in the popular crowd.

So, I gave my son Tylenol to hold down his fever, dropped him off at the daycare center, delivered a killer presentation and scuttled back to his classroom where they reported X. was feeling a little warm.

Since that day, I’ve always been the one to stay home with our children when they are sick. I’ve tailored my career choices so that I can bow out on a second’s notice if need be. My husband and I don’t discuss what these sacrifices have meant for me. And in truth, I haven’t forced the issue. We never imagined this type of pragmatic dilemma when we dreamed of having kids together.