Eddie Rosales' pumped-up chest doesn't allow his arms to easily hang at his sides.

His cuttoff sleeves reveal bulging biceps, a faded Raiders pirate tattoo on one arm and a freshly inked crucifix crossed with rifles on the other.

But slung over one shoulder is a diaper bag as he carts his 1-year-old daughter, Natalia, in a baby carrier, and shepherds his 3-year-old son, Manny, to a Kids Club magic show at the Pacific View mall in Ventura.

Without knowing it, Rosales, a 33-year-old barber, is fearlessly blazing his own path as a dad and maybe helping to redefine what it means to be a man along the way.

It may be 2007, but stay- at-home fathers remain the rare exception in the world of parenting.

Less than 4 percent of the 18.5 million children under 5 in the United States are cared for by their fathers, according to the Census Bureau.

In the majority of cases, it is mothers who raise children in our society, and they're often doing that on their own.

Goes to work at 5 p.m.

For Rosales and his wife, Norma, the choice for him to be the primary caregiver was a no-brainer.

"I've always said I wanted to raise my kids," said Rosales, who goes to work at his Legends Barber Shop in Ventura at 5 p.m. after his wife gets home from her job. "In a lot of ways, going to work is a break for me."

It also completes him, giving him a sense that he's more than just a stay-at-home father, he said.

Beyond that, the barbershop is a bastion of masculinity, where the smell of combs soaking in blue Barbicide, hair tonic and talc mix with the sound of humming electric clippers and the patter of conversation.

The walls are plastered with sports stars, an electric guitar covered with a Raiders logo and a poster hyping the March super featherweight championship fight between Marco Barrera and Juan Marquez. The shop, at 1419 E Santa Clara St. near the Y-intersection with East Main Street, is open from 5 p.m. to 10 p.m. Tuesdays to Saturdays.

Like a lot of successful barbers, Rosales is a good listener and conversationalist, but he's surprised a few men when the subject of home life comes up.

When one of his cousins complained that his wife was always telling him she needed more money for the kids, Rosales suggested he try staying home and taking care of them for a few days.

"He didn't like that," he said.

For Rosales and his wife, it wasn't just his affinity with kids that led to his decision to stay home. He and his wife simply didn't want someone else raising their children.

"We have friends who both work and have their kids in day care, and the kids are fine," said Rosales. "But we just didn't want to do that."

Influence of two men

Norma, a 32-year-old business manager for the Carpinteria Valley Water District, said she feels lucky, although the arrangement occasionally raises eyebrows.

She has little patience with co-workers who sometimes refer to her husband as "Mr. Mom."

"There's nothing feminine about Eddie," she said.

The two, who met in high school in Santa Barbara, where they grew up, also have been foster parents for six years.

Right now, they're caring for 13-year-old Lauren, who has been in their home for two years, and a 9-year-old girl, who they asked not be named because she's only recently been placed with them.

"Eddie's always been good with kids," Norma said.

But his decision to stay home and to reach out to children who don't have a home can be traced to two men: his "Pops" and his biological father.

"My biological dad was in prison and just wasn't there when I was a kid," said Rosales. "He missed out, and he knows that now."

Another man filled that gap. Apolinar "Tony" Alvarez, who died late last month at 56 of diabetes, was the man Rosales turned to when he was a child.

Under the recently inked tattoo on his left shoulder is "My Pops" "1950-2007."

"He was there from the first day, from the day I was born," said Rosales.

Norma, whose dad died when she was 8, also knows how important it is for children to have a connection to their fathers.

While he doesn't hesitate to hold and comfort his kids, Rosales said he tries not to "baby" them.

"Maybe the biggest difference that I've noticed is that I wasn't running over there real quick when he (Manny) fell down," he said. "Moms tend to baby 'em a bit and they (kids) act more whiney but I baby her (Natalia) more than my son."

I'm usually the only one'

While a lot of moms become masters of the well-planned outing, stocking bags with diapers, toys, food and extra clothes, Rosales' parenting technique involves both preparation and constant activity.

Every day he has a routine meant to get his children and him out of the house. Unlike a lot of moms, who can tap into a network of other moms and arrange play dates, Rosales said, he depends on a regimen of daily outings to playgrounds, restaurants and child-oriented events.

"Sometimes I wonder how he does it," said Norma.

It's Wednesday and after the morning naps, he jams to a 10:30 a.m. event before taking the children to a First Five activity at a local kids gym. As with every day of the week, it's all choreographed so that by the time he's headed home after lunch, the children will be nodding off for their afternoon naps.

On this day, Rosales squeezes past a traffic jam of parked strollers and nabs a seat before scanning the crowd. He counts two other fathers among the dozens of moms in the midst of a throng of fidgety children.

"I'm used to it," said Rosales. "I'm usually the only one, or maybe there's one or two other dads there, but more than 90 percent of the time it's just moms."

Every once in awhile someone takes notice of him and his children.

"Usually it's older ladies, but they'll come up to me and say, You know you are really good with your kids,' and that feels good," he said.