Just Joking Around

We hosted one of Chris' friends for a sleep-over recently. One of the beauties (and curses) of winter break is that every day becomes a Saturday night. "John" arrived at about 6:30pm, with pizza and cherry pie fueling the pre-Tween festivities. Without my darling wife Terry here (off on a trip to her folks' in New Mexico) I was left to fend for myself. So I did what any well-adjusted parent would do. I locked myself in the bedroom and watched a Humphrey Bogart movie.

My take on sleep-overs is that unless there is blood seeping under a door, or screams in the middle of the night, the kids can take care of themselves. After a peaceful night, I fixed chocolate chip pancakes for the boys and John's dad arrived (on a white stallion if I'm not mistaken) around 10:30am and we sent them on their way.

What I've realized lately is that as complex as toys and video games can be, my sons can be amused and enthralled by the simplest things. A conversation about bodily functions can lead to non-stop giggles for an hour. A game of "Go Fish" makes us all giddy. Knock-knock jokes with non-sensical punch lines reach from the early morning into the night.

One difference between the current generation of parents and parents of the past, is that today we seem to want to plan every excursion, or fill every minutes of our kids' time with swim and guitar lessons. Scheduling in un-structured time to enjoy each other's company might help our children understand that the simplest pleasures lead to the most lasting rewards.

I Never Had a Christmas Tree

Okay, so technically that's not true. Despite our Jewish roots, I do recall badgering my Mom and Dad into buying a Christmas tree one year. This was probably 1967 or 1968, somewhere in that turbulent decade (I blame all of my pre-teen idiosyncracies on the Summer of Love). Growing up in a predominantly Christian city, with holiday advertising and media all around, it was frankly hard to understand why we should be any different than the families of all my friends.

One of things I'm proudest of as a father is that my kids are growing up with a strong sense of who they are. My wife is Mexican/Catholic, I am Jewish/French/Polish/German/Russian. Our two sons know that they represent a melding of cultures and beliefs. I'm amazed at how easily they slip from culture to culture. One moment we're lighting Hannukah candles, the next we're sitting in church as communion is taken. I've been the beneficiary of many lectures from the booster seats in the back of the car on God and spirituality, each one delivered with the passion of true faith.

How we teach our children to be proud of their heritage is paramount to how they define themselves. Where previous generations of parents may have found subjects like this "taboo" or too "complicated" to talk about, 21st century parents have the opportunity to challenge kids intellectually. The more I discuss real-life issues with my sons, whether it's politics or the dalliances of Tiger Woods, the more I realize that my kids are growing up fully capable of making decisions about values for themselves.

Since we embrace all the cultures of our family heritage, we celebrate both Hannukah and Christmas. It's nice to have a tree again!

The Bongo Beat of Learning

I've read that kids who are involved in music show an increased ability to concentrate on their studies. My two siblings are great examples of this correlation; I couldn't be prouder of their accomplishments! My sister Julie played the cello for many years and later graduated with honors from Harvard Law School. My brother Tom has a Masters from the University of Washington in Chinese studies, he played the cello as well. More important than their academic achievements however, they along with their spouses actively encourage their kid's' musical ambitions. As an aside, I lasted in piano lessons for six months.

Yes, that's a limited focus group, but as our sons have expressed interest in playing instruments, we've supported their passion wholeheartedly. Nick can pick his way through "Smoke On The Water" on the guitar, and Chris will drum anything that's not moving. Including my belly during a recent Sunday afternoon snooze. Still, with expensive lessons and equipment, their favorite instrument to play is a worn and ancient bongo drum. Not even bongo "drums" because it's just one bongo. Or drum.

I've written about the need to feed your children's passions before, even when those passions are fleeting. It's important for kids to experience the excitment of trying something new. Just as important, it's vital for them to understand that exceptional talent in music, or in anything, comes when they match their passion with practice.

Perhaps there is a bongo drum in your house right now. Or a squeaky violin. Or a recorder that can't manage low notes but hits the high notes with alarming frequency. Smile when your kids want to show off their talents, and listen carefully for the sounds of their passion and purpose in life. They're not trying to make it at Carnegie Hall, they're just trying to secure their place in your heart.

Saluting the Single Parent

My wife's been out of town for three days. The kids and I miss her very much for a wide variety of reasons. Her smile, her hugs, her warm words, her errands, her cleaning, her schedule-keeping. Get the picture? Without Terry here, the kids and I slip into "bare necessities" mode. As long as there is un-expired milk in the fridge and pizza at the door, I'm happy and so are the boys.

The good news is, I know my wife will return. At 6:19pm Friday evening to be exact, not that anyone is counting.

For the single parent, help often doesn't arrive at a scheduled time. Nor is the help "guaranteed" like when there are two parents in the picture. I've had friends throughout the years that raised kids on their own, and I can't imagine greater heros in our daily midst. Some people parent alone, meaning their spouse doesn't provide a whole lot of help. Others parent individually due to tragedy, love lost or because they choose to.

You probably know a single parent. The holidays are a great time to offer a helping hand to these heros. Even if it's just a few hours of childcare so they can have some time to themselves, the brief respite is a marvelous present. And you don't even have to wrap it!

Putting Your Kids First

There she sat at the light, one hand on a cell-phone to her ear, a cigarette in her mouth and the other hand manipulating a lighter. As she pulled away, I spotted the toddler in the back seat. While I wanted to scream at the lady about careless driving, all I could do was marvel at her audacity. What happens when a child becomes something less than our top priority?

Here's a quote from the playwright Arthur Miller, who as I learn about him I realize did many more wonderful things other than marry Marilyn Monroe.

He wants to live on through something-and in his case, his masterpiece is his son. All of us want that, and it gets more poignant as we get more anonymous in this world.

The messages we send children about their importance in our lives are constant and form a lasting impression on our kids. When I'm reading the paper or watching a football game, I want "time out" for me. A period to stare mindlessly at sport or the news is part of my wind-down time at the end of a busy day. You probably have that same time as well.

How can you incorporate your kids in your down-time? Perhaps it's as simple as throwing an arm around a young shoulder and encouraging them to wind-down as well. However you choose to reach out, reminding your kids that they're "number one" on your list of priorities makes them feel great. It'll make you feel great too.

Being Your Best Means Being Selfish

The more parents I speak to, the more I realize that parenting means putting your own needs last. While I salute the sacrifice that each of us makes in bringing up our kids, when we subjugate our own needs time and time again, we're teaching our children to do the same thing should they become parents. Isn't it time to stop the cycle of self-abuse? After all, if you're feeling unfulfilled professionally or personally, it's pretty easy for your kids to pick up on that. What they learn is what they see and experience.

A concept that I introduce in many of my coaching sessions with parents is the idea of becoming "Selflessly Selfish". Here are the underpinnings of this thinking:

You can't be a great parent without being a great friend to yourself.
You must pay attention to the signals your mind and body send you.
Time for yourself is not selfishness.
Time for yourself allows you to rejuvenate body and spirit.
Time for yourself is a great model for your partner and your children.

Here are my "Top Five" ways to be selflessly selfish:

5. Take a walk.
4. Read a great book.
3. Write a notecard to a friend.
2. Listen to great music while doing something creative.
1. Take a nap.

How important are selflessly selfish activities? A recent study found that one-third of American children are more stressed today than they were a year ago. If we don't model ways to minimize and manage stress, who will? For more great tips, please see the American Psychological Association's latest report on stress at
http://apahelpcenter.mediaroom.com/file.php/211/Talking+with+your+Children+about+Stress+FINAL.pdf

The recent posting on passing your passion down to your kids struck a chord with my friend Robbie. With his permission, here's an illustration of how a baseball rooting interest can transcend the generations.

You can imagine how hard it was to get Jason (9) to share my Mets passion, and I was almost there. His whole room is decked out in Mets gear and posters. That is, success until about three weeks ago.

My son had just made his AAA Fall Ball pitching debut. He was very proud of his two scoreless innings, as was I.

Later, we were out to dinner with about ten family members, celebrating a cousin's milestone birthday. We were in a private room in the restaurant, though beside our large round table was an empty table for four.

After we had been seated for about a half hour, in comes the Maitre 'D, leading four large athletes, baseball players all. Yankees, to be exact, led by future Hall of Famer, Andy Pettitte. Jason went apoplectic. With a lot of cajoling, he finally went up to Andy, introduced himself and began to describe (in too much detail) his outing earlier in the day. Pettitte could not have been any more gracious, and agreed to a picture with Jason which now has a prominent place on his bedroom wall.

My Mets are as good as dead in his mind. I lost that battle.

More than anything, I'm just happy that he's got a deep and enthusiastic passion for the game. I couldn't be more proud.

Have a similar story to share? Please post them in the "comments" section of this blog. Remember, the greatest thing you can pass along to your kids is a boundless love of life, and of diversity. The world has room for Mets and Yankee fans.

Blizzard Survival Tips for Dads At Home

We are now in "Day Two" of "Snowbound: Crisis in Parker". The scene outside my office window looks like mid-February, only with more snow. We have about 2 feet of the fluffy white stuff on the ground. I can personally vouch for the fact that it's fluffy until you start shoveling, then it becomes downright heavy.

Mike's Blizzard Survival Tips: When the Kids Stay Home from School and Sanity Slips Out for the Day

1. TV time is limited to 7 hours during daylight.
2. Food is defined as whatever the kids can reach. "Marshmallows for lunch? Sure, have at it boys!"
3. Get the kids (and yourself) outside. Anyhow, anyway, anytime. We're paying a plowing service to clear the driveway, but we spent an hour shoveling just to get the juices flowing.
4. Hot cocoa is one of the five food groups.
5. Don't sweat the small stuff. If everyone is rosy-cheeked and exhausted at the end of the day, you've done your Daddy job just right!

Winter reminds me of my own childhood and growing up in Western NY state. The joy of those days of snow up to my hips and above always brings a smile to my face. What a blessing to pass down those experiences to my two sons!

How One Dad Fights Frustration

Part of the joy, and frustration, of living in Colorado is that you never know what type of weather to expect when. On the last day of summer this year, we had snow squalls. Two days later, it was in the 70's. My wife Terry tells me she loved living in New Jersey because winter started "on time" in November and ended "on time" at the end of March. So today, three days before Halloween, the kids were home all day due to a snowstorm.

The kids were planted squarely in front of the television much of the morning, while I worked in my home office. Sure, I wish I could have kept them entertained with crazy projects designed to educate and inspire. Instead, they dined on Phineas and Ferb, and SpongeBob.

Sometimes we fathers have to bend to reality and make the best of a situation that doesn't "fit" our pre-conceptions of how things should work. A snow day home from school definitely didn't fit today's schedule. The kids aren't old enough to stay home by themselves so Mother Nature forced me to upend my day. I don't know about you, but my frustration level increases when I try to make circumstances out of my control fit into those pre-conceptions of how things should work.

When your frustration level rises, it's easy to take it out on others. Our pre-conceptions often stay in our heads and don't get shared. That leaves the people we care about most guessing as to our intentions and plans.

Like the early snowstorm that disrupts travel, work and personal time, you can decide to wallow in the snowdrifts and keep your thoughts to yourself. A better choice is to share your thoughts and head frustration off before it gets the best of you.

Passing Passion Along to Your Kids

Terry and I made this deal when we were married, long before we had kids. We would raise the boys as Catholics (I'm Jewish and grew up in a family where the identity of religion had far more clout than the practice of religion) if I could raise them in my personal faith. The religion of the Fenway Faithful; raising them as Red Sox fans. The boys were both born here in Denver and in their early years were willing adherents to my allegiances. Now that they're in school and routintely exposed to influences outside the house, they're picking up some bad habits.

When I root for my teams (The Red Sox and the Buffalo Bills) the boys are quick to remind me that as Colorado natives, they could care less about my roots. Both Nick and Chris are dyed-in-the-wool Broncos (football) and Rockies (baseball) fans. In fact, not only do they cheer for those teams, they actively cheer against my teams. It's as if they are conspiring to derail my sports addicted dreams. In spite of this rebellion, I secretly love the fact that they care. To have a rooting interest in sport, and thus a community, is a wonderful passion that my Dad passed along to me.

I've learned that being a fan of your kids and their interests is far more important than if they are a fan of your interests. If my sons' passion were directed toward skateboarding (it is) or ballet (it isn't) then as long as they pursued that interest with the willingness to experiment, fail and succeed, I would support their passion as I would support my own.

Hmmm. My Dad is a Yankee fan. I'm sure he'd say that the chickens are coming home to roost. Good luck in the World Series, Dad. And I mean that sincerely.

Is Your Child a Terrorist?

Okay, maybe it's just me, but I've noticed a disturbing trend. While listening to NPR (yes, I do watch Fox from time to time for a "fair and balanced" look at how President Obama is messing everything up) I heard about the latest terrorist arrest. "The suspect was arrested in his basement bedroom, at his parent's home" intoned the announcer. Didn't Zazi, the fellow arrested here in Denver, also live with his parents? Seems like the last three major terrorist arrests have all been of single men in their 20's and 30's, living at home with their parents.

What conclusions can we draw from this incredibly small sample?

1. All terrorists live at home with their parents.
2. All terrorists have been unusually unsuccessful at any other line of work besides terrorism.
3. Since we're catching them before they blow things (and themselves) up, terrorists may not be successful even in their chosen line of work.
4. To minimize the chances of "Junior" becoming a terrorist, it's important to instill a sense of independence and self-confidence in your kids at an early age.
5. All single men in their 20's and 30's who live at home with their parents should be arrested.

Next week in this space, I will be solving world hunger, reining in rogue nuclear states and revealing the cure for the common cold. The common ingredient in all three crises is basil. Or maybe oregano. I always get those two confused. Stay tuned.

Four Cornerstones of Great Parenting

I spent a recent morning interviewing seniors about their fathers; what an amazing experience. As men in their 80's and 90's talked about the sacrifices their fathers made for them, I couldn't help but think about the sacrifices these men made for me. Otis casually mentions that he was a tail-gunner in a B-24 over Europe. Gene was in the Army Air Corps in Italy and North Africa. Dick flew "The Hump" between China and Burma. Their eyes lit up as they talked about working the fields with their fathers, or fishing trips on late summer nights. When I asked about "The War", they looked at their feet and mumbled about how "it was a lot tougher" for others who never came back.

What I've learned about fathering so far from the interviews I'm conducting for an up-coming book is this:

• Love, given unconditionally, comes in many forms. Maybe Dads didn't hug their kids much 60 or 70 years ago, but they sure as heck loved their kids.
• Dads weren't perfect then, and they're not perfect now. Lessons of fatherhood tend to be rose-tinted by years gone by, and as adults we recognize what our fathers did well and what they did poorly.
• Great parents perform self-less acts every day.
• Parents leave an indelible impression for generations. Our "legacy" as parents extends far beyond our mortal lifetime.

Thanks to the staff and members of the Barnum Senior Center in Denver, and the Colorado Springs Senior Center. Your memories and lessons learned will help shape a new generation of parents.

I heard a great quote on the radio the other day from a farmer in Kansas. He said "If you're working on a problem that can be solved in your lifetime, you're not thinking big enough." My guess is that the work of becoming better parents and teaching those skills to future generations, is work that will continue long after we're gone.

Balloon Boy: What's This Mean for Fathers?

It's been several days since the nation (at least the people who watch cable news channels with nothing better to televise) were transfixed by the Henne family's weather balloon hoax. Hearing and watching the coverage in Denver that day and since has been a non-stop roller coaster of emotion. My first thoughts, probably like yours, were fear for the family, a pit in my stomach for their loss, and anger at parents putting a child in harm's way. No, inviting their child into harm's way.

What drives a parent to convince their children to lie to authorities, just to stage an elaborate fake emergency? How starved for attention (and desperate) must the father, Richard Henne, be? What's really important to take away from this?

My sons reminded me of the "boy who cried wolf" fable as we talked about the balloon ruse. Henne has now completely compromised his believability for any future endeavor. His kids will bear the scars of a public undressing for years to come. Their mother (Richard Henne's wife) may have been a willing accomplice, unwitting dupe or simply scared and intimidated. Chances are, a bit of all three.

Children learn the limits of legality and morality from their parents. My sons don't see the difference between a "white lie" and a lie. Reflecting back on the sad saga of the balloon boy, I'm not sure I can make that distinction anymore. Regardless of the reasons, self-serving or sanctimonius, it's never right to pressure your kids to enable your bad behavior.

Cashing In Your Culinary Dad Card

I'm not sure when exactly my fatherhood "finest hour" has been, but it sure as heck wasn't last night. Faced with the end of a hectic day and a freezer full of food, somehow nothing sounded right for dinner. Our boys will eat pizza morning, noon and night, so at least a frozen pie was in the fridge. When I proposed either pizza or corn-dogs (ask a stupid question...) the response from both kids was "Why not both?"

Indeed, why not both? With that, my instincts toward nutrition and the food pyramid went out the window. I've tried to disguise vegetables in dishes, but the boys are like bloodhounds. They can sniff a naturally delivered vitamin a mile away. After a brief internal debate about food, nutrition and the possible impact on college scholarships of eating a life's worth of nitrates in one sitting, I caved. The guys dined on corn dogs and pizza, along with an oreo and half a banana for dessert. At least they didn't eat in front of the televison.

My take on nutrition has been informed by a line from our pediatrician. Years ago, we were concerned about Nick's growth rate and the food he was eating. The Doctor said "As long as he's getting complete nutrition within any two-week cycle, and as long as he's growing, don't worry about whether he'll overdose on Cheerios." I tried to remember that last night after the kids went to bed well-fed and happy.

After all, they had ketchup with the corn dogs. Don't psuedo-veggies count?

Dad Temper Tantrums

I lost it with the boys on Saturday evening. Ever been there? I can't even recall what set me off, perhaps Chris whining about what was prepared for dinner, or Nick needling Chris about a shared baseball cap. Either way, I lost my cool and shouted at them. I know that what sets me off most times is that the plan in my head (which I neglect to share with anyone else) is not what unfolds in real life.

My boys act up and "push my buttons" when they're (a) tired, (b) frustrated or (c) hungry. Most of the time it's a combination of things. What I fail to remember in those moments of anger on my part is that the same things drive me past the point of self-control. I recover pretty well, and hurt feelings seem to be mended in minutes. What I can't gauge right now is the impact of my actions on how they'll function in similar situations as adults.

As fathers we pass along many memories and legacies. It's not just how to throw a curve ball or how to shave. We also pass down the lessons of our most human moments. What I've tried to teach from the times when I'm not at my best, is that it's okay not to be perfect. I can see my sons' frustration when the Lego pieces don't fit perfectly, or when they forget a multiplication answer. I hope that my legacy includes an ability to be gentle with themselves when they fail, humble when they succeed, and the good sense to go with the flow when their plans don't work out exactly as they'd wished.

Boys Need New Toys

Invasion of the mind-snatchers continues! After a Sunday without television or Nintendo (see the Blog post from Sept. 28th, 2009) and actual human interaction, Terry came home today with the Beatles Rock Band Wii game. For the uninitiated, this "toy" lets you play a fake guitar and fake drums while singing along with John, Paul, George and Ringo. "Twist and Shout" is reverberating in the background while I post this.

Maybe it's not so terrible to furnish our kids, and ourselves, with new toys now and then. Sure, the pricetag was obscene; $150+ at your favorite superstore. Music is one way that generations come together. My parents listen to Bach, Mozart and a bit of Brahms. The music I scoffed at 30 years ago now takes up a significant portion of my Ipod's memory. My sons laugh at their Dad's obsession with all things Springsteen. I'm hoping that when Bruce and I are both gone, perhaps my offspring will embrace my classics.

The new toy now dominating our television is a way for my kids to connect to the 60's and early 70's, a time that formed many of my political, social and cultural affinities. I guess the beauty of something new is truly apparent in its ability to connect us with something in our past.

Three Dad Challenges

I turn 49 this week. It doesn't seem like a monumental birthday as I move closer to the big 5-0. Recalling when I turned 21, I always thought that once you left the schooling portion of your life that you were pretty much a fully formed being. I also thought that everyone over the age of 21 was mature! How many of our peers disprove that theory every day? Thank goodness our personal growth doesn't stop when they hand you a diploma and you walk off stage right.

Being a Dad means constantly learning what you know, and what you don't know. My kids remind me daily that technology, music, social mores and television shows have zipped by me in the blink of an eye. While my "fuddy duddy" identity is more clear than ever, I do feel as though I can keep up mentally as long as my personal and professional life remains challenging.

Speaking of challenges, what's challenging you these days in your relationships with your kids, your partner, and yourself? Here are some of the things that are cropping up at my house.

1. Kids wanting new and more technology. At the ripe old age of 9, Nick's decided he needs an I-phone. Whatever happened to your best friend, two orange juice cans and a really long piece of string?

2. Terry's on the road for work, which means the household duties that I used to take for granted now rest squarely on my shoulders. Is it okay to leave the dishes in the sink overnight? Two nights? How high must the Oreo crumbs rise below the kitchen counter before you haul out the brush and dustpan?

3. It feels wierd sometimes to reach out to fellow Dads to ask questions or confirm common experiences. Guys don't talk like women do. Ladies break down intimacy barriers far more easily than men do. Is that hard-wired in us?

That last concern vexs me and I'm committed to do something about it. Let's us guys commit to make this Blog and other resources you'll be seeing from DadSpeaker in the coming months, pathways to communication. I'm not saying we'll be sitting around this time next year comparing varicose veins, but we should be able to lean on each other when fatherhood throws us curveballs. Fair enough?

Dads Missing Their Kids

Okay, I'll admit it. When the kids go out the door to school, I miss them. It's hard when they're away, and you're missing all those infintesimal and yet infinite moments when they learn something new. Maybe a lesson about themselves, or the way to treat others, or how mean (or nice) their colleagues in the business of being kids can be. A child's first step or first word can be recorded or photographed for posterity, and yet the journey they start with their first foray into mobility or communication never truly ends.

Dan Johnson is a buddy of mine and he posted a song on YouTube that got me thinking about the ties that bind a father to a child. Check it out at www.youtube.com/danjohnson411/

I didn't tear up when I watched the video and heard the song. At least, that's what my Dad might tell me. Frankly, sometimes I think as fathers we're too worried about projecting a movie-screen image to our kids of what a father should be. Shouldn't we be more concerned about showing our kids how human a father can be? Everytime I lose my temper with my sons, or say something to them that I instantly regret, I feel like the world's worst Dad. Then I model contrition, my kids model forgiveness, and we all get a bit better at this thing called love.

I'm eyeballs-deep in writing about the father experience and it'd be great to hear your hopes, challenges, successes and "learning moments" as a Dad. Please share them via the comments section on this Blog, and perhaps we can all learn from each other.

Traveling with kids

My two sons (hey, one more son and we'll have a TV show title!) run the show when we're on vacation. Sugar cereals, late nights, running amok with cousins and grandparents, it's all part of the bargain. They become the center of attention, and that's a position they clearly enjoy. Terry and I wait patiently to the side, enjoying family and unusual sights, biding our time until it's time to make the trek back home.

When every trip to exotic locales (this time it was Albuquerque) comes to an end, we ask each other what we learned from the sojourn. For me this time around, it was a greater appreciation for my wife's family. I have four cousins; Terry has cousins numbering into the hundreds. Keeping names and faces straight, even after a decade and a half, is still a challenge for me. The generation who threaded their way through my legs at the first gatherings are now grown and shepherding children of their own.

Cousins Tony and Lisa have grandkids, and a son who is bound for Afghanistan. Aunt Louie still makes tamales, teetering on a footstool to reach a pot on the stove. A stove in the kitchen of the house her father built more than 80 years ago. Albert kids me about going camping; he's the outdoor Dad I dream of being. My father-in-law takes it all in from a corner chair, the eldest of a dozen children, with his 80th year right around the corner. Big Paul speaks a mix of clipped Spanish, and English for me. Little Paul will be retiring in a few months and owns 8 (9?) cars.

We are all richer for the culture and experience of the ones we love. In a small family, perhaps one man is a Dad. In a vast family, all the men are fathers to all the children. Uncles intertwine with Dads, grandfathers with cousins and nephews. The tie that binds one generation to the next is love, and the desire to pass down lessons and values learned.

Fathers and Sons; The NFL Takes a Backseat

My two sons challenged me to a Sunday without football on TV. In return, they committed to the day without Nintendo, Internet or television. While I tried to convince them that another day of the week worked better for me, 9-year old Nicholas turned and said;

"Dad, if it doesn't hurt, it's not a challenge."

So we made it through the day, my sons and I. No blood was spilled, no brains were muddled beyond repair as the electronics sat silent. We hiked, scootered, and actually talked. What a concept!

More fathers and sons adventures to follow on this blog, along with my latest book on the topic, scheduled for release in plenty of time for Father's Day 2010. If you'd like me to come speak to your organization about the mysteries and lessons of fathering, please let me know! You can always reach me at (720) 851.5208 Internationally, and (877)262-2402 in the US.