Domestication

“Stay-at-home dad.” Up until the other day, nothing about that phrase suggested success.

The path I have traveled in the last 15 years has been lined with small- and large-scale athletic triumphs and defeats accompanied by pride regardless of the results. The ego has received additional fuel each and every time I get on stage to speak to audiences of varying size and description.

As of late, with the economy what it is (it couldn’t possible be me), I find myself struggling with a relatively stale speaking business and the onset of the deterioration of true athletic competitiveness, all the while trying to spend as much time with our children as possible. Prior to the arrival of Hawk—our third child, third “perfect” boy and last child we will procreate—I had spent a few hours a day, a few days a week on the business (outside of travel and execution), all the while ditching domestic responsibilities like cooking and cleaning, which, ultimately, creates more stress for Sharon each and every time she comes home to a mess and we scramble to prepare dinner. Time making money—or at least trying to—is better spent than time attending to domestic matters. That’s been my reasoning.

Sharon’s stress is multiplied fourfold whenever I travel: the nanny shows up late (Sharon leaves for work at 6AM and often doesn’t return until after 6PM, rendering a daycare center impossible), the nanny does no cleaning or cooking or, apparently, disciplining whatsoever, and Sharon returns home after 11 hours in the O.R. with a sick and dying patient she and her crew weren’t able to save . . . and has to straighten up before making dinner for out-of-control boys riding a day-long wave of freedom.

She’s been a sleepless intern, an overworked resident, and a rookie—and often pregnant—for nearly the entirety of our seven-year relationship. She needs a break.

And to this end she has recently revealed to me her ideal world: she works and I stay home with the boys so that she might loose the stress and guilt of daycare altogether. (Thanks to Sharon’s brains, drive and work ethic, we’re in the blessed position of not really needing two incomes to get by.)

Hmmmm . . . You mean after the cultural conditioning that as a man my worth is measured by my ability to financially support my family; after years of peak fitness, world-class competition, world records, Ironman finish line glory and Paralympic medals; after experiencing the lucrative world of professional speaking with its egocentric instant validation and fat paychecks, I’m supposed to just fix breakfast/lunch/dinner, respond to “Code Brown,” do the laundry, play taxi driver, clean the toilets, scrub the floor, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera?

Yeah, that’s what she meant, with all due respect.

So that’s what I’ve been doing these past few weeks, by choice, for the time being anyway, shelving the duties of pursuing the speaking business—however, I’ll certainly fulfill the engagements already on the calendar and take the work that comes my way.

And now I have the joy of telling you that deciding to do so has been a great move.  I didn’t so much make the decision as much as clarity fell upon me one day after cleaning the house while the boys were napping and preparing a nice dinner before my bride’s homecoming. In the process—and this might sound ridiculously obvious—I felt like I was actually taking care of my family. Suddenly, I was proud to having embraced the role. The pride, contentment and clarity continued when Sharon came home to clean digs, a hot meal and calm children. Mind you, it’s not like I hadn’t ever done this before, but this time I shunned the drudgery and begrudgery. I had discovered the secret to happiness: willful domestication.

Sharon told me the other day that she’s so glad I’ve come to embrace the role; she said, “I can see you’ve found something, you’ve been so happy recently and you haven’t been happy for awhile.” And there you have it. To be happy you need nothing more than acceptance of your situation. You need to do what’s best for your family, whatever that might be because we know everyone has a different set of circumstances.

We also know we must also be flexible and continually adjust as need be: the only reason I have the time to write this is because I’m on a flight to Boston for two speaking gigs in the next two days.