Kids and Homework

I'll admit, I'm baffled by much of the math homework that my 10-year old son Nick brings home from fifth grade. Thank goodness the teachers post an "answer key" along with tips on problem solving on the school's Web site. My last math class was during my junior year in high school, around the time the dinosaurs died off. What I think I recall from high school is some basic algebra and that a black bunny and a white bunny will have four "bunettes", one black, one white, and two white/black combinations. If I'm wrong, may Einstein have mercy on my soul.

More challenging initially than the homework itself, was getting both Nick and his younger brother Chris to dedicate time to complete their assignments. Terry and I have come to agree that setting aside a specific window for the boys, where all four of us are dedicated to their homework, has helped avoid potential battles.

The kids come home and immediately head for a snack. After a long day at school, just like an adult coming home from work, the last thing they want to do...is more work. After dinner, and before any dessert, the boys bring their homework to the table and plug away, number "two" pencils in hand. This gives their parents a chance to wash dishes, talk a bit about our days, and be available to answer any questions that come up. Or rush to the computer for the answer key!

Having a set time for tasks like homework or music practice means the kids have no surprises, and are able to understand that their commitments require attention. It occurs to me now that my work day goes much smoother when I keep to a regular schedule. Maybe it's not too late to learn something from fifth grade!

Dad - The New "Satan"?

Eight-year old Chris called me "Satan" the other day. It's hard to interpret that for any audience, but my sense is that he believed at the moment that the Devil and me were pretty much interchangable. My "sin" as far as I can ascertain, is that I wouldn't let him (Chris, not the Devil) wwatch YouTube on the computer past 9pm.

Being a parent is like riding a rollercoaster. One minute you're the shining star of your child's life, the next minute you're Mussolini, only without the captive audience. My wife Terry has a good approach to the changing fortunes of parenting, never getting too high or too low. I wish I could adopt that stance for myself, but when Chris lashed out I took his words to bed with me and felt like a real failure as a father.

What saved me was remembering some of the hateful things that I said, or imagined I said, to my own father. The world of a child is centered on self, and that world revolves around their wants and needs. Not having computer time in 2010 is a lot like being called in off the playground while the sun is still out in 1971. The level of technology changes, but not the perspective of the child.

As I approach fifty, it's striking how much I value contact with my folks. Perhaps as we learn to cope with their imperfections, they teach us how to cope with our own. As parents, we're no angels, but we're certainly not satan either.

Are Your Training Wheels Still On?

With a wrench and a bit of elbow grease, our two boys have expanded their world exponentially. The training wheels came off a few weeks ago, and now they're barreling down our steep driveway at breakneck (not literally we hope) speed. I can recall that very same moment of freedom in my own life. Perhaps you can too.

Taking risk is a big part of life, whether you're careening down a slope on two wheels or breaking away from a comfortable job. A quote that inspires me when I'm considering adding more risk to my daily grind comes from the late Arthur Miller.

"One can't forever stand on the shore. At some point, filled with indecision, skepticism, reservation and doubt, you either jump in or concede that life is forever elsewhere."

Watching the smiles of new-found confidence on the faces of Nick and Chris reminds me that reward rarely comes without risk. We can wear helmets and kneepads, but the scrapes and bloody elbows are a part of the bargain. I know what I'll remember of this passage into mobility for my children, are their smiles of joy with the wind in their face. Their confidence inspires me to pursue reward in the face of risk in my own life.

Read This Before Your Next Car Trip With Kids!

I just spent (or survived) 10 hours in the car with my two sons. A greater test of parental love and tolerance, there may not be. Traveling from Jackson Hole, Wyoming to our home in Parker, Colorado brought us 537.8 miles closer. Three lessons I learned for long car rides in the future.

1. If you rely on your spouse to charge the portable DVD player and you know beforehand that he/she won't be joining you in the car, make sure you learn how to accomplish this task yourself.

2. Pack enough snacks so that you can cut down on your drive time. Let your kids choose the snacks, since they'll be the ones eating.

3. Stock the car with music that everyone can sing along to. Like it or not, my kids are into the Beatles (hooray!), Bon Jovi (eh) and AC/DC (sorry, I never "got" them)

My guys are 8 and 10 years old, and we played "Mad Libs" most of the way. It was a great way for them to expand their vocabulary and learn creative ways to insert gross bodily function sounds into conversations. And I finally learned the difference between an adverb and an adjective.

Which Rules to Obey?

I watched a Dad and several youngsters hop into the hot-tub at our gym recently. They dropped their towels right by the sign that reads "No children 12 and under allowed in the hot tub!" Both kids looked to be five or six years old. Being a parent can feel like being under a 24/7 microscope sometimes, and this situation made me think about what we teach our children about rules and the truth.

Telling a "white lie" is accepted as part of navigating society. We cut corners a bit here and there to ease potential rough spots in relationships. What was the father in the hot-tub teaching his kids about rules? Are some "made to be broken" like athletic records? I can't imagine telling my children to obey traffic signals and speed limit signs, while I keep one eye on the road and the other on a radar detector. I can't imagine letting my kids into the hot-tub before they're twelve years old. If they see me flaunt one rule, that will confuse them about which rules can be bent or broken.

That said, I hope that sixty years ago I would have insisted that my boys give up their "front of the bus" seats to an African-American woman, regardless of where on the bus that woman was "supposed" to sit. Some rules were made to be broken I guess. How do you explain to your children when a rule doesn't make sense? Or when a rule, like the hot-tubs at my club, makes sense for some people but not for others?

Mom's Day

I'll admit it, sometimes I take for granted all that my wife puts up with from three boys. The uneven hairlines, the temper tantrums and the dirty clothes left to molder on the bedroom floor. And then she has to put with our two sons as well. Mothers deserve more than a "day" in my opinion, and I'm not sure a month or season or entire year is enough to salute all they do for us.

Here are a few of the roles I salute mothers (including my own) for fulfilling, above and beyond the call of duty.

Traffic Cop: Policing disputes about baseball cap ownership and whose turn it is to go first.

Cabbie: Ferrying kids to and from baseball, swim lessons, soccer games, guitar/cello/drum/bass/recorder/digeridoo lessons and more.

Doctor: Patching wounded knees and feelings, always knowing when a neck rub and a kiss is needed most.

Mom: The most underappreciated and underpaid job in the world. Although those with experience in this area tell me that the fringe benefits beat any paycheck, any day.

Happy Mother's Day to all, including my favorite Mom, Joan. Remember, only 42 shopping days left until Father's Day!

Safety and Change; Teach Your Children Well

There was a "lock down" drill at my 4th grade son's school today. I hate that our kids are growing up in a climate of fear, where dis-trust comes before trust. Life seemed simpler and less dangerous two generations ago when I was growing up, and yet when I reflect a bit deeper, it seems that times haven't changed as much as many of us think they have.

The late 60's and early 70's were times of dramatic social challenges. I can recall "duck and cover" drills at my elementary school. I didn't realize that these were to protect (as much protection as a school hallway can provide) us from Russian nuclear devices. I was convinced that the North Vietnamese would be invading Penfield, New York any day.

How do you create a safe environment for your children? How do you ensure that they feel free to experiment and test their limits, without pushing beyond the edge into reckless behavior?

Explaining the Unexplainable; School Shootings

We had another school shooting here in Denver this week. Memories of the Columbine nightmare lie just below the surface in this part of the country, even eleven years later. Thankfully, the two middle-schoolers who were wounded are expected to recover from their injuries. I can't begin to fathom what goes through a deranged person's mind when they set out to harm kids, or anyone for that matter. Regardless of where you stand on the issue of gun rights and the place of firearms in today's society, how you talk to children about tragedies like this is intimidating.

With our two boys, I try to be candid without being alarming. Bad things happen to good people and that's a part of this world I'd like to protect them from. I know these truths; (1) I can't protect them forever, and (2) keeping them from reality wouldn't serve them well in the long run.

The basic tenets of fatherhood are the best guide when you're faced with explaining the unexplainable to your kids. Be honest and ask lots of questions to understand how they're feeling. Remember that kids own their emotions just like adults do. What they feel and believe is real to them, and it's never a father's place to try and convince a child to feel differently.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?