My Son's Reality Show

Young love sounds as confusing as old love. Nine-year old Nick gave me a primer on this last night as he recounted in hushed tones the amorous adventures of his fellow travellers in the fourth grade. It turns out that Max is in love with Miranda, Alexa has her eye on Tommy, and while Levi likes Annabelle, he does not "like like" her and hence she is fair game for the intentions of Blake. At least, that's how I recall the conversation twenty-four hours later. Of course, all names have been changed to protect the young and innocent.

As an adult it's easy to look back on your childhood as a simpler time in life. Perhaps it was a simpler time but that doesn't mean it was without complexity. I look at Nick's homework some nights and find myself truly baffled. I can answer the math questions, but the lessons of how to arrive at one sum or another have vanished. On the social scene, he's learning how to be an individual, and how to "fit in" all at the same time. I stuttered through phone calls with girls until my college years. He's fielding those same phone calls like a Lothario. I try to remember to pick my battles, whether it's on the length of his hair or the favorite jeans that are now more holes than fabric. Somewhere (the Upper West Side of Manhattan) my parents are chuckling about generational revenge.

Our kids will follow their own path in life. They'll make mistakes, some of the ones we made and are making today, and some brand new mistakes they can truly call their own. As complex as his life is today, Nick will trade 2010's complications for those of 2030 and beyond. I'll try to protect him from the inevitable hurts, and hope he learns from his forays into the complex world of reality.

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.