Sorry that this post is a bit self-indulgent.
The youngest of my three children finished primary school today. I went and picked him up for the last time. Next year he’ll be catching the bus with his sisters to secondary school, and I’ll no longer be needed.
For the last four years, I’ve been a stay home at home dad. It has been an absolute privilege to be able to spend so much time with the kids. I’ve played countless hours of games with them, both before and after school. I’ve had time to coach Ned’s soccer team. I’m also a much better cook. I play guitar every day, and recently I play the piano as well.
Occasionally, people ask me what I do. I usually give a bit of a shrug and mumble something about my PhD, or the business idea I’m trying to get off the ground. Yet, these are hollow excuses. I wash the bed sheets. I clean the shower. I cook dinner and empty the dishwasher. I ferry kids to sport and music practice. And, somehow, these activities fill my day.
There hasn’t been a single moment that I’ve regretted staying home these last four years. Yes, we’re already discussing the house renovations that we hope to undertake with two wages next year… and I’m sure I’ll love working again… but I’m going to miss just hanging out with the kids.