By Scott Brinton
No more shop talk. No more deals.
Goldstein's wife, Gina, a soft-spoken financial analyst, yearned to take his place. But she couldn't. She had to work.
Two and a half years ago, Doug Goldstein became a stay-at-home dad. The 34-year-old Valley Stream resident is among a growing number of fathers who are leaving their jobs to care for their children. Still, stay-at-home dads are a rare breed. And the virtual isolation that they often feel can be daunting, Goldstein says.
Of America's 5.5 million stay-at-home parents, just 98,000 -- or 1.78 percent -- are fathers, according to the U.S. Census Bureau.
Stay-at-home mothers experience aloneness, Goldstein says. But they also easily develop support networks. They take part in Mommy-and-me classes and make friends. Mothers call one another, drop by the park together with their kids, maybe take in a movie, a museum, or do lunch. There are even mothers' centers, such as the Sunrise Mothers' Center in Bellmore.
Much of the time, Goldstein is by himself with his daughter, Tara, until Gina gets home from her Manhattan office. Doug attends Mommy-and-me classes almost daily, but they last only an hour or so. He's almost always the only father in the room. The mothers hardly say a word to him. "The women don't talk to you the same way they talk to other women," Goldstein says. "I guess they just don't know how to approach a guy who's taking care of a child. It's a comfort thing. I think a lot of women don't know what to make of it."
And so, Goldstein's daily conversations are mostly confined to childlike banter with his daughter, which he adores. At heart, Goldstein says, he's a big kid. Still, he'd like a little more adult talk.
Goldstein speaks with his wife by phone when she takes lunch breaks, but only in hurried clips and phrases. When Gina gets home, the family sits down to dinner. Afterward, Gina plays with Tara as much as possible to make up for lost time. Doug rests, watching TV or playing computer games.
Goldstein is hoping to form a Nassau County-wide stay-at-home-dads group in the hope of finding other men with whom he can relate and bond. He posts fliers on supermarket bulletin boards and Internet message boards with his e-mail address. He even created a Web site. So far, two dads have signed up -- a father who lives nearby, in Valley Stream, and another from Oceanside. Goldstein had hoped to recruit more members.
He believes stay-at-home dads often feel ashamed to admit that their wives are the breadwinners. "A lot of guys didn't aspire to this role," Goldstein says. At first, he didn't tell people that he was a stay-at-home dad. He said he was a salesman, even though he no longer worked.
Ideally, Goldstein envisions a group of fathers that meets regularly to talk about the numerous issues that are unique to stay-at-home dads. And he wouldn't mind taking in a Yankees or a Giants game with them once in a while.
Goldstein wants to talk about the enormous guilt he feels. Like most men, he was raised to work. He wasn't supposed to become a stay-at-home dad, he thought. When he was a kid, the term wasn't even in the lexicon.
Gina, 34, had wanted to stay at home with Tara. But on Doug's salary alone, the Goldsteins couldn't have made ends meet. With Gina's income, they could. "She made more than me," Doug says. "Her floor was essentially my ceiling. I felt like I couldn't afford to give Gina the option" to stay at home.
Returning to work shortly after Tara's arrival pushed Gina to her limit. "I didn't want to leave," she says. "It was hard. It was stressful. I was just overwhelmed by everything."
All of the strains that accompanied Gina's return to work were compounded by the usual stresses of a one-income household. Gina makes good money, but the family budget is still tight. "We have a lot of debt. We're working on that," Gina says. "We don't take vacations. We go out sometimes."
She quickly adds that day care is an option, but not one that the Goldsteins would consider. "Doug could go back to work, and we could live more comfortably and not stress over bills," Gina says. "But we'd stress over [Tara] being with strangers." At this point, Doug says he would probably go nuts if someone other than he or his wife were to care for Tara.
Doug also says that he now accepts his role as a stay-at-home dad. After 2 1/2 years, his guilt has dissipated to a degree. "I feel like I do a good job with Tara," he says. "I should take pride in that. [Being a stay-at-home parent] is not easy at all. Any woman who's done it, I give them credit. Your self-identity is completely changed."
Doug appears perfectly at ease playing with Tara in their toy-filled living room. He sits on the floor beside her as she makes pretend cakes in her big plastic kitchen. He laughs a lot and offers simple directions in a father's comforting tone. And his face lights up as he pushes a rubber ball back and forth with Tara.
Goldstein hates "Mr. Mom," the ubiquitous title for a stay-at-home dad derived from the popular 1983 movie starring Michael Keaton. "To me, it's insulting. It's derogatory. I'm not a mom. I'm a dad," he insists.
Goldstein is unsure when and how he'll return to work. He thinks he might start a home-based business to make use of his entrepreneurial skills. He also might go back to school to earn a master's in education. Part of him wants to teach history. He earned a bachelor's in the subject from Rutgers.
Whatever the case, Doug expects to remain at home for at least another five years. The Goldsteins are expecting their second child, a son, in September.
Comments about this story? SBrinton@liherald.com or (516) 569-4000 ext. 203.
