It seems everyone has a title these days: Stay-at-Home Mom, Stay-at-Home Dad, Empty Nester.
As I wait for my wife's delayed plane at Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix, I wonder what I should call myself. I'm not really a SAHD because I'll be working full-time from home. And I can't call myself a traditional working dad because I will be cloistered in my newly-set up home office.
Perhaps I should call myself a Work-At-Home Dad, which leads to the unfortunate acronym, WAHD. Since there already is a website called WAHD Central and some blogs that use the term, I guess I'm stuck with the name.
Even though I'm still more moving in than working from home at this point, I'm already learning what it means to be a WAHD. Getting a 3- and 6-year old to understand they must stop whacking each other on the head with stuffed animals while I'm on a conference call has not been easy.
Transitioning several times a day from Communications Director to supportive, ego-boosting dad is not so easy for me, either. I tend to be mission-centric and get uncomfortably cranky at repeated changes in direction.
But already I'm seeing the upside. My kids are getting outdoors more and they're beginning to see me as someone they live with rather than that guy who comes home for dinner and a night's sleep.
So for now, I'm happy to call myself a WAHD. And perhaps my little experiment in mixing career with personal life will help others desperate to escape the prison Americans call work.