I’ve experienced most of the usual SAHD clichés over the past year-plus, from the well-meaning old ladies in stores who ask cheerily if I’m babysitting today or if it’s mommy’s day off, to the equally well-meaning guys who describe me as “Mr. Mom” to their friends.  (Uh, no, thanks—to all of it.  I’ve yet to be driven, however, to wearing a “No, Ma’am, this IS my job” t-shirt and handing out cards with RebelDad’s URL on it.  Yet.)  Actually, I expected more, and more pointed, reactions than what I’ve gotten, being in California’s own slice of 1950s-time-warped Red-State conservatism, Bakersfield.  But I guess, by now, as we make our well-trod rounds between the neighborhood, the bookstore, the coffee house, and Trader Joe’s, most people are used to the sight of the goatéed guy decked out in his Daddy Type t-shirt and Baby Bandolier carrying, pushing, or trying to keep up with his precocious, waving babygirl, with a snack-trap in one hand and a sippy cup in the other.    Hell, it’s an everyday occurrence for some “stranger” to greet The Pumpkin by name in public, with me wondering, silently, who the hell they are and how they know us.

That’s not to say that, as a stay-at-home-dad, I don’t get the occasional isolation-from-peer-group-blues.  When The Pumpkin was just born, spurred on by my daily reading of the daddy-blogosphere, I tried to reach out to other area SAHDs, posting queries on a few web bulletin boards.  Nothing.  I gave up, and jokingly billed myself as the only SAHD in Bakersfield (or at least the only one doing it by choice and not via lay-off).  I was recently pleasantly surprised to be introduced, electronically, to a local SAHD of two who’s not only been doing this gig for 8 years but homeschools his kids too!  He too felt isolated in the beginning (and not only is he a SAHD, but a vegan too, in this transplanted-from-Texas oil-and-ag town where poultry is considered a vegetable), but he seems pretty comfortable in his own skin, calling himself a BAHD (Bakersfield-At-Home-Dad).  Heh.  (Plus, he and his fam are pretty religious, which aligns them, at least in that way, with the Bako mainstream, in which I decidely do not swim.)

But the place where I’ve found the most interesting (yet subtle) gender dynamics, vis-a-vis being a SAHD, is the kiddie gym to which I’ve taken The Pumpkin for over a year now.  It’s been a while now, but I think I remember that in the beginning, when I was the only dad or non-employee adult male in the room, the perky instructors had to take a pause (with a quick glance my way) to adjust instructions to “moms” to “moms and dads” or “parents.”  This is the kind of place where everybody knows each other’s kids’ names, but it takes an extra effort for the adults to introduce themselves to each other, and if you don’t do it right away when either you or the other family is new, you quickly get into too-late-or-too-awkward-to-exchange-names territory.  “Uh, I’ve been talking to you for six months, but what’s your name again?”  Heh.

I always try to make a point to at least talk to, if not introduce myself to, other dads when they appear, especially if they’re sans spouse.  There have been a couple dads who regularly bring their kids by themselves, but when I’ve broached the SAHD question, I’m usually disappointed.  They usually are partners in two-job families with split schedules, happy enough to take care of their offspring solo when their spouse is at work, but not SAHDs technically.  I realize, of course, that we are extremely lucky to be in financial circumstances that allow me to stay home full-time, and that most don’t have the luxury of that choice.  But the bottom-line is, I’ve yet to meet another SAHD at the kiddie gym.

What I have experienced is a little more subtle, and a little more interesting.  Anybody who knows my socio-political bent wouldn’t be surprised to know that I’ve sorta gravitated toward talking to moms of color, like the Latina mom of a biracial little boy, white moms of kids of color, and the only obviously two-mom family I’ve met at the gym.  As one of the only, if not the only, dad there, I don’t just go up and say, “Hi! My name is __________!  What’s your name?  Want our kids to have a playdate?”  I do the whole, oh, how old is s/he?  Oh, mine is _____  months.  Say hi, Pumpkin!  Say, ‘My name is __________, what’s your name?’”  Now, the funny thing is, as I obviously have a tendency to try to talk up any Asian American- or hapa-looking parent in this whitewashed wasteland, I feel like more than half of the Asian American moms have sorta brushed me off, even with The Pumpkin being as super-adorably-cute-a-licious as she is.  It’s not like there have been a lot of them, and again, it’s not all of them (and it’s not a language thing because the few with accents have been friendlier than the ones without who didn’t pick up their end of the whole “What’s your kid’s name?” thing).  But it stands out in my mind, and I can’t really put my finger on it.

But it sorta ties in to a mommy/SAHM clique-iness that I’ve picked up on that de facto excludes dads.  It’s not that it’s conscious, or on purpose, or anything like that.  It just feels like these parent/child environments, which were obviously conceived to be “Mommy and Me”-type situations, don’t know how to incorporate a SAHD, really.  I seem to represent an intrusion into a midday, husbandless safe space in which they can freely talk about things like breastfeeding.  Again, it’s not really what anyone says or does, it’s just this, I don’t know, nebulous feeling I get.  I overhear moms talking who obviously talk and/or see each other outside of the kiddle gym, or moms inviting each other out to lunch in small groups after class.  And it seems like it would never occur to any of them to invite me to go with them, you know?  It’s not like I need or want the invitation, it’s just an observation.  And that’s not to say that I haven’t exchanged e-mail addresses with a few moms.  But it just seems different.  And for all the chatting I do with the other regular dads who come, especially one dad of color, I just can’t see him turning to me at the end of class and saying, “Hey, wanna go grab some lunch?”  The other day, la dra. was off on one of The Pumpkin’s gym days and came with us, and the white mom of an Asian American daughter, an ex-teacher like me with whom I talk often at the gym, turned to my wife and said that we all should have lunch after class one time when she has another day off.  Not to me.  To my wife, who comes but rarely.

Recently The Pumpkin and I were invited to join a nascent playgroup of other kids from the kiddie gym.  We were asked by one mom who often brings her husband with her on his lunch break (and she’s an ex-teacher too), and both la dra. and I have gotten to be friends with this couple and their son.  They’re actually the friends who introduced me to the veteran BAHD, and they seem pretty liberal or at least to the left of the norm here as far as we can tell.  And that got me thinking.  This mom is good friends with a SAHD and knows about his experiences making and not making connections, and this probably influenced her to ask us to join their playgroup (besides the fact of The Pumpkin’s cuteness, of course).  Which made me think, without her experience and inclination, would any of the other moms, not just in this playgroup but in general, have given even a thought to bringing the dad and his kid into the fold?  It probably wouldn’t have occurred to them.  Again, it’s not malicious or anything.  I just don’t fit into their familiar picture of full-time active parenting, or something.  Several moms have told me things like, oh, I told my husband about all the stuff you do [like getting up in the middle of the night], or oh, I told my husband that he wouldn’t be the only guy here, but he still won’t come to kiddie gym.  One mom told me that until she read my blog, she hadn’t really realized or thought about how different it must be for me, as a SAHD, surrounded by all these moms.

So, whatever.  I take The Pumpkin to the gym because she loves it there, and I have a good time, too.  So what if it’s not a community of parents that I can plug into?  I mean, it’s Bakersfield, after all.  I’ve got the odd mom of color, the lone other dad, the occasional non-conservative, the lesbians.  I’ll take what I can get.