![]() ![]() ![]() On weekends, I would bike around Santa Barbara with him, letting his mother sleep because she’d been out till two in the morning, selling roses to drinking partiers at the bars along State Street. Time went on and things got a little easier, but the attitudes towards men as parents never seemed to change. ![]() We struggled with the decision to send our six-week-old child to an illegal childcare center that clearly had way too many children for one woman.īut we had no other choice she’s what we could afford.Įven then, when I would drop my son off, the sitter would tell me I was carrying him wrong. We were a tight, angry fist of domesticity. We sacrificed our autonomy and ability to participate in things other twenty year olds were doing. We argued and fought, but also loved and spent a lot of time focusing on what was important – our son. We took turns doing what needed to get done we switched it up when one of us got tired of, say, balancing the checkbook (or more likely making too many mistakes). I nodded in agreement, saying nothing back to him, afraid of his power and authority. The cop stood there, scolding me that I should be out getting a job. Ironically, I was served those papers while I was rocking that child in my arms, cleaning up the house I shared with my girlfriend. By Tomas Moniz 0 TOMAS MONIZ on RAD DAD MAGAZINEĪs a twenty-one-year-old father, I was served papers by the county of Santa Barbara to officially notify me that I must “provide” for my child. ![]()
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