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True Confessions of a Stay at Home Dad
This is a blog about my life. My wife and I have three kids, ages six, three and one. Last year I gave up my gig as a middle school teacher to stay home with my kids full-time. This past year has been the most challenging, easy, relaxing, stressful, fun, tiring and rewarding year of my life.

My wife Amanda and I have been married for seven years. She spends her days (and nights and weekends) as an overworked Medical Resident.

Our oldest daughter, Eloise, is a bright, sweet, emotional first grader that loves to talk (she gets it from her mom). When not at school she is most likely playing dress up, turning some part of our house into a playroom, or creating a craft projects that involve: glue, magazines, markers, staples, stickers, scissors, crayons, pens, and a dozen sheets of paper.

Henry, the three year old middle child, is hell on wheels. There is not a house or store Henry cannot destroy in five to seven minutes max. He loves playing with his trucks, digging in his sandbox and occasionally putting on his sister’s pink plastic high heels.

Maggie, the one year old, is as sweet as they come. At a very early age she learned that her crying could barely be heard over the volume of her siblings. She has developed a blood curdling scream in order to get our attention that would make any horror movie producer proud.

Well there you have it, that’s pretty much my family in a nutshell.

DISCLAIMER: If you are looking for parenting advice you have come to the wrong place. Enjoy!

A Trip to the Mailbox

A Trip to the Mailbox

June 23, 2013 | 07:02 AM

When we moved, one thing we never thought about was the new location of our mailbox compared to where it was at our old house.

At the old place, the mailbox was attached to the house right outside the front door. Usually you could hear the mailman shut the lid after he put the mail in. All you had to do was open the front door, not even step all the way outside and get the mail.

At the new house things are a bit different. Our mailbox is not attached to our house, in fact it's not even in our yard; It's across the street in our neighbor's yard. This makes getting the mail more of a chore and harder to remember than before.

Until recently.

I'm not sure whether it was my wife or myself that made this discovery, but recently we've each been volunteering to get the mail.


Because it's peaceful.

It's quiet.

The walk to the mailbox doesn't involve crying, there's no baby clinging to your leg and you don't have to answer questions. It's a brief respite from the chaos of being inside a house with three small children.

Earlier this week my wife poured herself a glass of wine for her trip to the mailbox.

I've been known to get "lost" on my way, roaming around the street for a few extra minutes.

There's a famous quote that goes something like, "It's the simple things in life that mean the most." I'm not exactly sure a trip to the mailbox was what this person was talking about when they said this, but you never know.

That's enough from me for the day, I should probably go check the mail.

Oh wait, it's Sunday.

Oh well, I'll go check it anyway.


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