I survived Plebe year at West Point. I earned my wings in Army flight school. I endured nine months in Desert Storm. Yet none of those experiences prepared me for the toughest job of all: being a stay-at-home father.

For the past eight years, I have enjoyed the chaotic world of at-home parenthood. During this time, I have raised two of our children from birth. Each day, I experience firsthand the frustration and loneliness of being an at-home parent.

Life as a stay-at-home father is a constant challenge. I receive very little praise for my efforts. Did anyone walk up to me today and tell me that I did a great job of getting my children dressed this morning? No. Did I get recognized for my part in the recent family record of 157 consecutive days between visits to the children's emergency room? No. Did anybody shake my hand to acknowledge the hell that I went through to convince my 5-year-old to wear something besides his Power Ranger T-shirt and shorts during the 7-degree Fahrenheit day? No way. But go to the grocery store just once, just once when the baby is missing a sock, and it is a national disaster.

"Hey buddy, where's the kid's sock? Didn't your wife teach you about keeping his little tootsies warm?"

And the baby thinks, "Aw, what kind of dad is he, leaving my toes uncovered?"

In one short comment these folks make me forget all of the parental accomplishments for the week. I forget that I cleaned three cat puke stains without throwing up myself. I forget that I helped a sixth grader with his NASA-quality homework. I forget that I fed the baby, sang the theme to Bob the Builder and vacuumed – all at the same time.

With whom do I share these frustrations? Co-workers? What co-workers? I am the only employee in my building. I am the only adult who works on my shift. As a result, I get starved for adult conversation. Granted, I do get out once in a while, but the stay-at-home dads group only meets once a week, and the grocery store checkout women think that I am hitting on them. No, the sad truth is that an at-home parent is alone.

Sometimes this isolation worries my wife. You know that you have been a stay-at-home father too long when:

• You invite Jehovah's Witnesses in for a cup of coffee.
• You consider cheating at your favorite computer game as a way of "sticking it to the man."
• You look forward to the change of seasons so that you can look at different clothes when doing the laundry.
• Potatoes start to fascinate you.
• You talk to your dog way too much.
• Your daughter yells, "I spilled mayonnaise on the cat," and your first reaction is, "Do we still have enough left for potato salad?"
• You can quote the Readers Digest April 1992 edition that occupies the top of the toilet tank.
• Sally Jesse starts looking really good to you.
• The source of your humor is Highlights magazine.
• You ask to be put back on hold because the song is really good.
• You clap along to the Family Feud theme song.
• You do the Super Bowl Shuffle after unclogging the laundry chute.
• You play the fart game with your pets.
• You get a thrill from arranging your desktop icons by date, not alphabetically.

This is just a warning to those of you considering staying at home with your children. The loneliness is hell.

But, I have only described the difficult aspects of staying at home with five whining and complaining food absorbers. Despite all of the trouble, the children are absolutely hilarious. Sometimes, the humor is in the form of a monologue. Just recently, my wife was in bed reading, and our 5-year-old walked up to her and firmly stated the following:

"My hair is bald." (He has a short haircut as the result of a self-inflicted trim.)

"I want my car bed back." (He just got promoted to a twin bed.)

"I want my toys picked up, but I don't want to do it."

He's not even in the first grade, and he is making lists of demands!

Other times, the funniest things are those that you do not know what to make of. One of the 12-year-olds was upstairs, and she yelled down to her twin brother, "Jake, forget the mallet. Come upstairs!" And just how am I supposed to react to this? Laughter is the only option.

Another source of a chuckle is my own ineptitude. While getting out of the car at the doctor's office, my wife commented, "Gary, the baby's hair is crunchy. Why?" OK, so I used a little too much hairspray.

Why would any rational person put himself through such domestic torture? Simple. As I was writing this, I was interrupted by my 5-year-old. He had been upstairs watching a Sesame Street video. He wanted to share one of the scenes with me and dashed downstairs, grabbed my hand and pulled me up the stairs. We plopped on the bed together, and he rested his head against my chest. As we watched, we laughed and sang together.

Just a few moments later, I am back writing and am reminded why I stay at home. You never know when your children may want to talk to you. When they want to share something with you. When they need to hug you. I want to be there for them whenever I can.

And to be at home with them.

Want to see more?

• One Family, One Income: Making it Work Today
• Making Change Work: Husbands and Wives in Stay-at-home Dad Families
• Working at Home: Is It for You?
• July 2002 Dad of the Month: Dennis Ross
• Stay-at-home Dads Discussion Board