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True Confessions of a Stay at Home Dad
In May of 2011, I dismissed class for the last time and began a new chapter in my life, full-time dad. I taught middle school for seven years, but with two kids and a third on the way, I wasn't able to give as much time to teaching as it required, plus I wanted to spend more time with my own kids, instead of someone else's.

My wife and I have been married for nine years. She spends her days (and some nights and weekends) as an OB/GYN, or as my kids like to call it, “catching babies.”

We have three kids. First Born is eight years old, but likes to pretend she’s in college. Our son, Middle Man is five, but we’re convinced by the way he talks about things like “beautiful sunsets” that he’s an old soul, and our youngest, the Blonde Bomber is only three, but already has the attitude of a teenager.

Our kids provide us with an endless amount of stories. Writing and retelling these stories for Indy’s Child has been my part-time job for the past three years.

You can contact me on Facebook at True Confessions of a Stay at Home Dad or via email at indyschildpete@gmail.com.

Doodle Doodie

February 04, 2013 | 09:34 AM


Towards the end of last year, after an excruciatingly long process, we finally got my son out of diapers. He was approaching three and a half years old and it was long overdue. I'm sure you can imagine the size and disgustingness of a diaper generated by a thirty pound boy that eats like a horse. But, like I said, he's out of diapers. Which means there's only one baby left in our family that can't YET poop in the potty.

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Hopefully by this summer, we can put away the cloth diapers for good. No more swishing out the poop in the potty. No more poop finding it's way out of a diaper and onto the floor, or on my lap. Finally, in a few short months, things around here will be Feces Free!

Wait hold on just a minute.

What's that my sweet, wonderful wife?

You want what? A dog? A golden doodle? But I don't understand.

I'm almost Feces Free. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and everything.

Oh, it's potty trained. Well that's a relief. But wait don't I have to pick up its poop when I take him for walks?

Well, I guess I'm doomed.

The light at the end of the tunnel is now dim, so very dim.

I guess I'm destined for a feces full life.

Happy Parenting (and poop scooping)!


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