(originally posted at domestic father)

Why am I the person to be writing this story?

I’m not.

I am not a doctor. I am not a scientist. I am not a child psychologist. I have absolutely no qualifications as a childcare professional.

This story is not my story.

I am still a skeptic, but that is not all that I am. Most of my free time for the past 9 months has been consumed by this subject, and I feel that it has had a larger role than perhaps it should have.

I have said more times than I can count that skepticism is a tool. I have begun to feel like a carpenter, writing a blog about his favorite hammer. It is time to stop talking about the hammer, and start building.

For the past few weeks, I have looked for a way to incorporate other aspects of my life into this blog, but to no avail. It is with more than a little bit of sadness that I announce that this is my last post at Domestic Father.

I have been overwhelmed by the success of [domestic father], and I cannot adequately express how grateful I am to all of you who took the time to read here, link here, and comment here.

But, there are other things I wish to learn about, to write about. These are for my other blog, evenlake, where I have decided to continue some of the topics of this blog. Just not exclusively.

I can only hope you will chose to join me there, but I understand that it may not be to your liking. If you want to know what it’s about, visit the About page. Or you can just trust me and subscribe to the RSS feed sight unseen.

I will continue to manage Skeptical Parent Crossing, periodically hosting and submitting articles as well. I will keep reading and commenting on your blogs, and will remain a member of the community. I just no longer have the time nor the inclination to maintain a blog devoted solely to skepticism. It is time for me to move on.

Thank you again for your time and your attention, and I hope to see you around.

As I said in my last post, skepticism is a tool, one of many we can use as parents. I have found it to be one of the more valuable tools, but it remains just a tool.

We can use it to evaluate claims made to us, the claims we parents hear on a daily basis. We can use it to explain the world to ourselves and our children, explanations that are based in reality rather than myth and tradition.

But it is still only a tool.

When I was talking with the story consultant, she suggested that I examine my own insecurities, see if they were the reason for the story I was writing in this blog.

My insecurities in a society that doesn’t yet value stay-at-home dads, my insecurities as a new parent, these were what underlay my choice in writing a blog about skeptical parenting. I used my skepticism as armor, a way to protect myself from the slings and arrows of an outlandish culture.

Researching and reviewing claims had taken up most of my free time. It gave me a sense of control, a feeling that I knew what I was doing, when in fact I mostly relied on instinct and common sense, two other tools in the parenting toolbox.

When I told Diane what I had discovered, that she was right, that perhaps I had picked skepticism as a subject due to my insecurities, she offered nothing but support.

“I’m so happy you were with me on where I was heading with that…. Sounds as if there might be room to explore your experiences and perceptions [of at-home fatherhood].

“You’ve got a real gold mine of material there, my friend.”

But how to extract it, in this niche of skepticism?

I am a skeptic, but I am not only a skeptic. I am a father, but not just a father. I am a stay-at-home parent, but that is not all that I am. Like everyone else, I contain multitudes.

Diane wrapped up our session by telling me, “the most important question to ask yourself is, ‘What am I writing, and why am I the person to be writing it?’”

Next post: Wherein This Story Ends

(cross-posted at domestic father)

A couple of weeks after my conversation with Diane from The Story Spot, I received an email from Nancy McDermott. Nancy is a fellow parent and fellow New Yorker, and had recently written an article for spiked.com called “Parenting: it’s not rocket science.” She thought I might find it interesting. More than interesting, I found it profoundly relevant to my situation.

She writes,

The idea that parenting is more complicated than ever before is an observation I hear often from my older relatives….

It’s not simply that parents are spending time deliberating things like whether their baby’s first food should be rice cereal or pears or avocado – once simple decisions that are now apparently terribly complicated. It’s the way we are deliberating. The whole language we use has undergone a transformation. We investigate. We research. We weigh the evidence.

Exactly what I had been doing almost every morning since Sally went back to work. Every claim I heard was subject to my scrutiny. Those that I thought were post-worthy would receive more attention. I would spend hours on each post, making certain my research was accurate, and that I had not fallen into any logical fallacies. Whenever CJ slept, I pulled out the Google and went to work.

Imagine my surprise when I read the next paragraph.

The highly technical language we use to discuss ordinary aspects of childrearing belies a collective lack of confidence.

Just two weeks before, I had an experience that I described as rare, and yet here it was happening again. Truth was revealing itself to me as I saw myself mirrored in McDermott’s writing.

We no longer feel comfortable justifying our beliefs about bringing up our children on the basis of ‘common sense’ or experience.

Sally and I live far away from most of our families. We cannot rely on the wisdom of our older relatives when confronted with commonplace parenting issues. We must find something else to help us with these questions. In the process of discovering our answers, we look back at our own childhoods and laugh uncomfortably at some of the things our parents did.

But, even with all the knowledge of the ages at our fingertips, modern parents can still only do what works for them. It is the same thing our parents did. McDermott writes,

The decisions we make as parents are reasonable: that is, they are the product of our judgement, synthesising what we know of the facts and our own child, what is expected of us by others and our own moral sensibilities, into a solution that is right for our individual situation.

Further, there is no Universal Infallible Theory of Parenting.

no scientific theory can ever serve as a guide to individual action. It’s like giving 10 people pots of yellow and blue paint and expecting them all to mix the same shade of green. It’s possible in the abstract, but the reality is far more complex.

Our parents had very little information. They relied on their pediatricians, their relatives, maybe Dr Spock, but mostly on their own judgment and common sense. And indeed, that is what McDermott thinks may be the greatest resource for modern parents as well.

It may be that the most ‘rational’ course of action for parents in these circumstances is to rely first and foremost on their own judgement and leave contesting science to the scientists.

Educating yourself is essential. But so many parenting issues have no definitive answers, only competing science. We can educate ourselves in the methods of science to assist us in evaluating all of the studies, but, honestly, how often does it change our behavior? I can think of at least 3 things we do with CJ that probably aren’t in accordance with the latest science.

Skepticism is a tool, an excellent tool, but it is not an answer. It helps us make decisions, but it cannot make them for us.

Next post: Skepticism Is a Tool

(cross-posted at domestic father)

“Maybe it’s your own insecurities.”

Words from the story consultant, they were an epiphany to me. She suggested my insecurities might have stemmed from being a new parent, but I knew they ran deeper.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea? It’s kind of a career-killer, isn’t it?”

Words from a well-meaning neighbor, when I told him I was staying home with CJ. He’s a great guy, just a little old school. And I could tell by the look on his face, the idea of staying home with his kids while his wife brought home the paycheck was anathema to him.

I had certainly considered this before quitting my job. I was a well-paid consultant, but Sally was more well-paid. Because we were upper-middle-class, we could afford to have one of us stay home, without a significant impact on our lifestyle. Ironically, a stay-at-home parent has become a luxury item.

“[He]‘s been a stay-at-home dad for years. What’s he going to do when he tries to go back into the workforce?”

Words from my mother, who, following her divorce from my father, and after 14 years as a stay-at-home mom, was forced to go back to work to support her 3 kids. In her early 40s, she started as an administrative assistant. Over the next 20 years, she negotiated with teamsters, steelworkers, and sexist bosses, ultimately retiring at 63 from an executive position at a public company.

She went back to work because she had to, but many women today face the inverse of what I was facing. If they choose to go back to work after having a child, they are asked, “Shouldn’t you be home with the kids?” They often feel guilt and insecurity because they choose to continue their careers.

“Dude’s a man-bitch. Takes care of the kid why she goes out and makes the money.” Drops (Method Man) -CSI “Drops’ Out”

Words from a hugely popular television show, spoken by a character who is the archetypal charming rogue. None of the main characters chided him for saying it, the line was meant to get a laugh.

By portraying the stay-at-home dad as an inept boob or a slovenly dunderhead, popular culture has yet to accept men as competent, capable caregivers.

“Mothers are natural nurturers. Fathers are not. It goes back to the hunter and gatherers type.” -Missouri State Representative Cynthia Davis

Words from an elected official, in an attempt to defend her bill that proposes a tax credit for stay-at-home moms, but not for stay-at-home dads.

Forget that the skeptic in me knows this to be utter nonsense, I find it incredibly amusing that a woman who believes “alternatives to evolution” should be taught in public school, would refer to “hunter and gatherers type” to support her argument. And apparently stay-at-home moms don’t escape her scorn either. According to the St Louis Post-Dispatch, in a committee hearing, “she suggested imagining a mother who stays at home — and ‘I hate to say it — but watches soap operas and eats bonbons all day,’ who might decide to pursue higher education because of this program.”

“You call yourself Mr. Mom. God calls you a bum.” -Reverend John Hagee

Words from a man of the cloth, whose church has nearly 20,000 members, and whose sermons are broadcast by over 200 radio and television stations around the country.

At least one major Presidential candidate sought Hagee’s endorsement in an effort to woo the large bloc of conservative Christians who are said to have won the 2004 election for Bush. John McCain ultimately repudiated the endorsement, but only after Hagee’s statements about Catholics, homosexuals, and Jewish people proved too poisonous for his campaign.

“Why go to work to earn money to give to someone else to raise my daughter?”

Words from me, when, after seeing my two-month-old in the hospital with an IV in her arm, I decided I was going to quit my job and stay at home to raise her.

I have never had a job that was more fun, more fulfilling, and at times, more exasperating than the one I have now. I have never regretted my decision, nor have I ever been ashamed of what I do. I love what I get to do.

But, when being assailed by a culture that questions my manhood, and at the same time my ability to be a nurturing parent, it’s hard not to feel a little insecure. My skepticism has been my armor.

Next post: A Theme Emerges

(cross-posted at domestic father)