Guest Post by: Joseph Sandoval
After years of working in the corporate world, when my wife got pregnant, I took a maternity (paternity?) leave. And stayed gone. When Eliot was born, the three of us stayed home for six weeks together and, ya know, bonded. When Kay was ready to go back to work, I ended up as the stay-at-home dad. This would be a piece of cake, right? Wake up when the baby wakes up, feed him, put him back to sleep, catch up on some overdue DIRECTV tivo, and wait for my wife to get home and cook us dinner. I was stoked, and surprisingly excited when Kay went back to work. I was used to the baby’s routine and was ready to win ‘Father of the Year’. Plan fail. Huge fail. I haven’t slept in weeks. I don’t even know how I’m typing right now, but this is my only outlet since I can’t complain to Kay who works all day. What’s worse, I think I smell like baby drool and I haven’t seen the last three episodes of Pawn Stars.
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