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.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Dads, Humanity and OJ
Watching the Olympics brings back memories of my own athletic dreams. In my early teens, like most boys I guess, being a "jock" was the height of cool. I didn't know then that football players wore shoulder pads. I spent one autumn walking around with my shoulders hunched up, trying to imitate my heros on the field. In my Buffalo Bills' #32 jersey, I tried to emulate my then-hero OJ Simpson.
Wow, how a few decades and an internationally televised ride in a Ford Bronco can change your perspective. My parents have an artful collage of family pictures in their hallway. Right there in the middle is yours truly, hair down to my shoulders in that jersey celebrating OJ. That may be the only photo celebrating his deeds (on the field) in the world.
I tend to agree with the retired basketball player Charles Barkley. He riled many parents a few years ago by declaring he wasn't out to be any child's hero. Worshipping anyone beyond your circle of family and friends can be fraught with danger. The idols on a poster are far too fallible and their transgressions get played out in the national media. Babe Ruth had his faults and demons, but his fans didn't have ESPN to update them on the hour.
As Dads, we showcase our humanity on a daily basis. Falling from grace in our children's eyes can happen quickly, but we also don't have to wait for the next news cycle to explain our faults to teach (and learn) from them.
Wow, how a few decades and an internationally televised ride in a Ford Bronco can change your perspective. My parents have an artful collage of family pictures in their hallway. Right there in the middle is yours truly, hair down to my shoulders in that jersey celebrating OJ. That may be the only photo celebrating his deeds (on the field) in the world.
I tend to agree with the retired basketball player Charles Barkley. He riled many parents a few years ago by declaring he wasn't out to be any child's hero. Worshipping anyone beyond your circle of family and friends can be fraught with danger. The idols on a poster are far too fallible and their transgressions get played out in the national media. Babe Ruth had his faults and demons, but his fans didn't have ESPN to update them on the hour.
As Dads, we showcase our humanity on a daily basis. Falling from grace in our children's eyes can happen quickly, but we also don't have to wait for the next news cycle to explain our faults to teach (and learn) from them.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Handling Fatherhood Stress!
I'd last about three days as a single parent. Okay, make that seven days. That's how long my wife was gone on her most recent trip, leaving me to fend for (and off) the boys on my own. For those of you who shoulder solo parenting full-time, I could not have more respect.
Parenting is about rising to the occasion. Resiliency as a parent means being prepared for as much as you can, and being flexible when the un-expected occurs. Here are the things I try to remember when fatherhood takes on added stress.
1. Re-think priorities. If the kids are clean, fed and happy, that's enough until you reach a place of relative calm.
2. Be kind to yourself. Whether your guilty pleasure is soaking in a warm bath or having a sitter take over for an afternoon, be selfish in the short term to be your best in the long term.
3. Give the kids more autonomy, not less. This sounds like the exact opposite of what you should do, but hear me out. My sons rise to the occasion, much like I hope I do. They're eight and nine years old. What a joy it is to hear their laughter and witness the creativity when I say "Guys, dinner is on your own this evening!" Yes, we eat a lot of peanut butter and jelly, and the kitchen counter is sticky for days. It's well worth the price for one evening where I'm not cogitating on how to prepare pasta in new and exciting ways.
A mentor told me once that parenting "isn't rocket science". That's true. It took the USA a dedicated decade to put men on the moon. We're still working on the art and science of parenting, and we will be far into the future. What you're doing as a Dad is far more difficult than any far-flung other-worldy endeavor.
Way to go Pop!
Parenting is about rising to the occasion. Resiliency as a parent means being prepared for as much as you can, and being flexible when the un-expected occurs. Here are the things I try to remember when fatherhood takes on added stress.
1. Re-think priorities. If the kids are clean, fed and happy, that's enough until you reach a place of relative calm.
2. Be kind to yourself. Whether your guilty pleasure is soaking in a warm bath or having a sitter take over for an afternoon, be selfish in the short term to be your best in the long term.
3. Give the kids more autonomy, not less. This sounds like the exact opposite of what you should do, but hear me out. My sons rise to the occasion, much like I hope I do. They're eight and nine years old. What a joy it is to hear their laughter and witness the creativity when I say "Guys, dinner is on your own this evening!" Yes, we eat a lot of peanut butter and jelly, and the kitchen counter is sticky for days. It's well worth the price for one evening where I'm not cogitating on how to prepare pasta in new and exciting ways.
A mentor told me once that parenting "isn't rocket science". That's true. It took the USA a dedicated decade to put men on the moon. We're still working on the art and science of parenting, and we will be far into the future. What you're doing as a Dad is far more difficult than any far-flung other-worldy endeavor.
Way to go Pop!
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
What's Your Comfort Food?
I can feel the lump in my stomach. Hours after an invigorating workout with weights and cardio combined, I've just submarined my fitness efforts with a two-hotdog lunch. The warm buns, mustard (and ketchup) remind me of skipping school for the cheap seats and baseball's opening day, making sure to evade my father who was sitting in the box seats! Cold and cloudy days like today remind me of growing up in Western New York. According to NOAA, Denver (my home today) averages nearly seven of every ten days with sunshine. Rochester, where I grew up, has one sunny day for every one with clouds, 51% days with sunshine to be exact.
I'm not blaming the hotdogs on my upbringing, convenient though that would be. But that lump got me thinking about our "comfort" foods. Are they regional? Do they help us make a link (hotdogs, "link", get it?) to our childhood? Do we choose them, or do they choose us? Mine are the aforementioned frankfurters, along with mac 'n' cheese, chocolate ice cream and my mother's pot roast. Had I chosen them, I like to think I would have chosen more wisely. Broccoli anyone?
I hope my kids will be comforted by many things as they grow older. Perhaps the scent of a cologne, or their mom's homemade burritos. With a nod to the 21st century, it might be the nearly imperceptible hum of their Nintendo toys or laptop. As odd as it sounds, one of the most comforting reminders in my life is the smell of a slightly mildewed garage. That takes me back to my maternal grandparents and their home in Muncie, Indiana. Once in awhile, that same smell visits in our own garage. Some 40 years later and I'm right back playing in the front yard with my little plastic toy soldiers.
The things that comfort us probably choose us, not the other way around. Memories, like hotdogs, are probably best when they are mixed infrequently with our present, and our future.
I'm not blaming the hotdogs on my upbringing, convenient though that would be. But that lump got me thinking about our "comfort" foods. Are they regional? Do they help us make a link (hotdogs, "link", get it?) to our childhood? Do we choose them, or do they choose us? Mine are the aforementioned frankfurters, along with mac 'n' cheese, chocolate ice cream and my mother's pot roast. Had I chosen them, I like to think I would have chosen more wisely. Broccoli anyone?
I hope my kids will be comforted by many things as they grow older. Perhaps the scent of a cologne, or their mom's homemade burritos. With a nod to the 21st century, it might be the nearly imperceptible hum of their Nintendo toys or laptop. As odd as it sounds, one of the most comforting reminders in my life is the smell of a slightly mildewed garage. That takes me back to my maternal grandparents and their home in Muncie, Indiana. Once in awhile, that same smell visits in our own garage. Some 40 years later and I'm right back playing in the front yard with my little plastic toy soldiers.
The things that comfort us probably choose us, not the other way around. Memories, like hotdogs, are probably best when they are mixed infrequently with our present, and our future.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
As Ricky said to Lucy, we Dads "Got a lotta 'splainin to do!"
Between Tiger Woods and his fooling around and Mark McGwire with his steroid usage admissions, my kids are asking some pretty tough questions. How do you explain to an 8-year old what infidelity is? Or why a professional athlete chooses to cheat? With the latter, it's been tougher to explain his media blitz "explanation parade" than it has to explain why he wanted bigger muscles.
All this reminds me of my favorite quote about truth and self-deception. I wish I recalled the source, but the essence is "Character is who you are when no-one is watching." Don't you love the simplicity of that? Whether we choose to cheat on our spouse or flick a cigarette butt out the car window, we exercise what my son Chris refers to as "free will."
An athlete may decide to blame the era in which he played, or the pressure of performing in front of millions of fans. In the end (pun intended) he only has himself to blame for injecting performance-enhancing drugs. I have no doubt that Tiger Woods feels tremendous pressure on and off the golf course, but we've learned more about his character in the last month than from any putt he's ever made.
Whether you're in the middle of a crowded arena or alone in the car with your thoughts, you are constantly acting on your free will. The character you display is truly the measure of the man you are.
Between Tiger Woods and his fooling around and Mark McGwire with his steroid usage admissions, my kids are asking some pretty tough questions. How do you explain to an 8-year old what infidelity is? Or why a professional athlete chooses to cheat? With the latter, it's been tougher to explain his media blitz "explanation parade" than it has to explain why he wanted bigger muscles.
All this reminds me of my favorite quote about truth and self-deception. I wish I recalled the source, but the essence is "Character is who you are when no-one is watching." Don't you love the simplicity of that? Whether we choose to cheat on our spouse or flick a cigarette butt out the car window, we exercise what my son Chris refers to as "free will."
An athlete may decide to blame the era in which he played, or the pressure of performing in front of millions of fans. In the end (pun intended) he only has himself to blame for injecting performance-enhancing drugs. I have no doubt that Tiger Woods feels tremendous pressure on and off the golf course, but we've learned more about his character in the last month than from any putt he's ever made.
Whether you're in the middle of a crowded arena or alone in the car with your thoughts, you are constantly acting on your free will. The character you display is truly the measure of the man you are.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
I feel like the groundhog on February 2nd. All I want to do is pop my head out of my den to see if the loud noises and fireworks are over. Then some stranger comes along and yanks me out, naked, for all the world to see.
Okay, leaving the holidays behind and getting back into a routine isn't quite as startling as Groundhog Day must be for Punksatawny Phil. Still, my first full day of work in the New Year felt like "back to reality" day. I noticed this with my sons as well. Both boys return from their school day lately with a glazed look in their eyes, nodding off into their dinner and barely staying awake until bedtime.
When the days are short, and cold, as they are here in Denver, it's easy to fall into hibernation mode. All you want to do is make it from sunrise to sunset, and then back to bed. As a Dad, the challenge is to keep yourself from turning into a sleep-addled zombie. Now is the time to throw your habits a curveball. Here are three ideas:
1. Have the kids make dinner for you. As the restaurant chain slogan goes, "no rules, just right". See what they come up with!
2. Change your workouts. Lift weights? Take an aerobics class! Run in the mornings? Go the local rec center and see how many laps you can swim.
3. Complete a genuine act of self-less gratitude for your spouse or partner. A card tucked under their pillow, flowers, a gift certificate or a simple hug and sincere "I love you" will do wonders for them and for you.
Think of it this way. In the darkest days of winter here in the Northern Hemisphere, our friends in the south are sweating out the dog days of summer. Making small changes in your behavior and being alert to the needs of others gets you focused on something besides yourself.
Okay, leaving the holidays behind and getting back into a routine isn't quite as startling as Groundhog Day must be for Punksatawny Phil. Still, my first full day of work in the New Year felt like "back to reality" day. I noticed this with my sons as well. Both boys return from their school day lately with a glazed look in their eyes, nodding off into their dinner and barely staying awake until bedtime.
When the days are short, and cold, as they are here in Denver, it's easy to fall into hibernation mode. All you want to do is make it from sunrise to sunset, and then back to bed. As a Dad, the challenge is to keep yourself from turning into a sleep-addled zombie. Now is the time to throw your habits a curveball. Here are three ideas:
1. Have the kids make dinner for you. As the restaurant chain slogan goes, "no rules, just right". See what they come up with!
2. Change your workouts. Lift weights? Take an aerobics class! Run in the mornings? Go the local rec center and see how many laps you can swim.
3. Complete a genuine act of self-less gratitude for your spouse or partner. A card tucked under their pillow, flowers, a gift certificate or a simple hug and sincere "I love you" will do wonders for them and for you.
Think of it this way. In the darkest days of winter here in the Northern Hemisphere, our friends in the south are sweating out the dog days of summer. Making small changes in your behavior and being alert to the needs of others gets you focused on something besides yourself.
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