Since Speedy started blogging, I found myself reading daddy blogs and media articles on parenting written by fathers. Among the dozens or so blogs and articles I read during the past 24 hours, my favorite is one written by J. Todd Foster of the Bristol Herald Courier.
When I met my wife in the late 1980s, I played 18 holes of golf a day. Now I play 18 holes every two years. Journalism and parenting are all I do. But I don’t do the latter like a stay-at-home-and-give-up-your-law-career mom does. And last weekend was a poignant reminder of that.
Stay-at-home moms are saints…
Without Supermom at home, meal planning fell strictly to me. Let’s just say that our staples were the three P’s: pretzels, pizza and pasta… [From Wanna test your parenting mettle? Give Mom a weekend off]
I’m sure that Speedy can sympathize with that. When I was still working and had to attend out-of-town conventions and conferences, their staples were hotdogs and potato chips. He even told me, on more than one occasion, that if I did any more work that required travelling, I would come home one day and find them with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes.
Yeah, right, stay-at-home moms are saints.