I’m a Dad of five (boys). I’ve had 20 Father’s Days now, with the standard cards and Boston cream pies (my favorite) and low-key ackowledgements that generally accompany Father’s Day. Hey, it’s not Christmas or Passover or…well, Valentine’s Day. It’s “just” Father’s Day.

So, how can you make your man feel special - not only on Father’s Day, but throughout the year?

Tell him something he’s doing right.

If I’m like most men - and I suspect I am - we feel pretty often that we’re the biggest frauds that ever walked the planet. These kids are supposed to look up to ME, and model themselves after ME? Sure, you know you’re a jerk when you’re in college, but you REALLY come to understand what a bozo you are when you have kids. It’s downright intimidating.

Maybe your guy doesn’t articulate it quite so plainly, but most of us are haunted by a deep sense of inadequacy for This Daddy Gig. And as the kids get older, guess what - the perplexity increases, not diminishes.

I guarantee that the father of your children has plenty of flaws, and certainly you could list them off in double-time if you were so inclined. But, don’t. Make his day by telling him something you appreciate - something he does really well. Let him know about a character trait that he has that you fervently hope your children will share. Understand that underneath whatever layers of bravado he chooses to wear, there’s a fellow in there who really wants to hear, “Attaboy!” Because bringing up kids in these treacherous times is really hard, quite frankly.

Then do it again the next day. Lord knows we need it.

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I thought we had the labels pretty well defined, Daddy Mark is the daddy in Heaven and Daddy is the daddy here. My son, Nicholas had just turned 2 when William (a.k.a Daddy) and I started dating and we’ve been married a couple of months now. Nicholas will turn 4 tomorrow, and suddenly the ease of knowing the difference between the two daddys is sliding a bit.

We’ve had confusion about Daddy Mark in the past year. We have photos up in N’s room of Daddy Mark holding N,

Daddy Mark & Nicholas

and there are two particular photos that N is fascinated with. They are both of Mark holding N just after delivery (see right), and N loves for me to tell him about his birth. For a while, N would get confused between his birth story and the story of Mark’s time in the hospital when he died. N thought that the picture of Mark and him was when “Daddy Mark was so sick in the hospital that the doctors couldn’t make his body better.” I spent quite a bit of time explaining the difference in why we were in the hospital for N’s birth and why Mark was in the hospital when he was sick. Nicholas seems to get it for the most part, but is still confused about it sometimes.

William and I began referring to him as “Daddy” after we got engaged. Nicholas didn’t seem to have any trouble with the transition (I’m sure it helped that he wasn’t quite 3 yet), and William has been Daddy ever since. In the past three or four months though, Nicholas has referred to William as “Pretend” Daddy a few times. When asked what he meant, Nicholas said, “Daddy is Pretend Daddy and God is the Real Daddy.” And who can argue with that. We had a brief discussion about how God created us all and so he is parent to all of us but that doesn’t make Daddy pretend Daddy or Mommy pretend Mommy. I should have known that wouldn’t be the end of it.

Now Nicholas is saying that when Daddy Mark gets better, Daddy won’t be his real daddy any more and that will make Nicholas sad. I think part of this stems from the conversations we’ve had where I told him I believe that Daddy Mark is healthy and happy in Heaven and his body isn’t sick any longer. But who knows, Nicholas could be making this up from whole cloth.

Daddy & N

I probably wouldn’t think too much about it, and just keep reinforcing that William is Daddy and that Daddy Mark is in Heaven, but I know it’s painful for William. I try to help him see that it’s not a preference or judgment on him as a father, that N is just confused; but, I can see how it would hurt. William is N’s Daddy, and nobody who sees them together would doubt it.

Any thoughts on where you think the origin of the confusion might be? Do you think there is a better phrase for Mark? Is it confusing for N to have two daddys? I would love to hear what you think!

*Photo of Daddy and N courtesy of Rebel With A Camera.

If you’re a parent of one or more boys, you’ve discovered that boys take an odd delight in breaking out of standard conventions and doing things that seem a bit - well, primitive.

Like peeing in the woods.

Even if there’s a perfectly suitable bathroom 125 feet away, most boys will be more than happy to drop their drawers when and where the urge hits them, and go “au naturel” before any and all watching flora, fauna, and bemused (or horrified) parents.

If that’s your kid, then be relieved as he relieves himself. He’s normal.

Boys, you see, have an innate need to not be confined. While everyone knows that all males eventually need some degree of domestication, all boys/young men/men also need to periodically toss aside certain conventions and let it all hang out, so to speak. While it might not be best to encourage such behavior in the middle of a crowded mall, a quick pee in the woods never hurt anyone.

Boys need rules, of course. But they also need room. Room to hit things with sticks, room to wrestle for no reason, room to explore and conquer, room to escape the careful order of domesticity and go make a mess somewhere. Boys need to jump off branches, scrape their knees, chop wood with an ax, and occasionally, pee in the woods. Channel the energy and drive as best you can, but don’t stifle it or try to alter the wiring. Confident men who can lead are simply grown boys who pushed the limits and were allowed to “prove” themselves.

There’ll be plenty enough confinement and “domestication” later, when work and family responsibilities descend. Tame what you can while they’re little, but give plenty of leash also. Enough to reach behind that tree in the woods, where your little boy (and sometimes even your grown man!) delights to pee on occasion…

I’ve always felt more comfortable expressing myself in writing than I have speaking, and it looks like my girl is going to be the same way.

This tendency was first noticed one weekend when we were having a bad day. I can’t remember exactly what we were arguing over. Probably something like me telling her she couldn’t go play with her friend because her room needed to be cleaned up first, or something similar. She had stormed off to sulk in her room, and as is my practice, I was ignoring such behavior and going about my day doing laundry.

After a while I could hear her slipping around the house, careful to avoid being seen. And little notes started popping up on table tops and taped to walls. The first ones were angry and mean. I continued to ignore and quit reading them until she asked me to look at one in particular. When I saw it said she was having “werd fillins,” my heart had a few weird feelings of its own. So, I asked her if she wanted to talk about how she was feeling and we had a great discussion about what had happened.

Well, over her Spring Break and while I was attending SXSW Interactive, she and her dad got to spend quite a lot of time together. Evidently one of those days he too laid down some law that she didn’t like because she left him a note that I couldn’t help but laugh at; and, when I shared it with some friends at SXSW the next day, they all agreed I should share it with you:

Now before anyone gets worried and starts recommending we all go for family counseling, take a look at the note she left him the next day:

I’m definitely going to hold on to these and look forwarding to seeing how her writing evolves. Something tells me she won’t share it as openly in a few years and most of her “werd fillins” will be locked away in a private diary, so I’ll enjoy it while I can.

“Mama, don’t let your sons grow up to be cowboys!” So advises the country song - which may be good advice, or it may not.

As parents, we should put up barriers to “careers” that are harmful or illegal. But as for the wide variety of trades and careers that our children may be uniquely gifted for, and inclined to, we should not erect artificial fences.

The world needs good cowboys. And plumbers. And electricians. And shepherds. And mechanics. People good with their hands.

If your son shows strong interest in fixing cars, and has limited academic drive and ability, why in the world would you push him to become a lawyer? We need great mechanics, and his gifts and inclinations are already showing you a potential career path.

If your daughter gravitates toward making beautiful floral arrangements, why should she be guilt-tripped into being a business executive? Is there not an ongoing need for all sorts of gifted designers?

The fact is, we’ll always need people who are good with their hands. And even the greatest and wealthiest among us recognize that, when you find a capable and reliable craftsman, tradesman, or laborer, they are gold. These folks have tremendous earning power and job security, because there are so many shoddy and unscrupulous workers in the marketplace. People who are skilled in their work, and prove themselves over time, are almost always in demand. Compare that to the job insecurity of many in white-collar careers, and you begin to see that it is not a step down to learn and ply a trade.

I have five sons. It has always been my perspective not to pre-determine their academic and professional careers, but to carefully evaluate their wired-in gifts and budding interests, and seek to move them in that direction, even if it is quite different from the course my wife or I took as young adults. And, sure enough, we’re having some surprises. As you will with your children.

If you have children that are good with their hands, and you worry about whether they will go to college and launch into some high-profile information-driven career, remember - this is not about you and your reputation. Most people throughout history learned trades that were passed down through generations, and many still do. You can be immensely proud of a son or daughter who works with his/her hands, and who is skilled in the tangible arts. Make it your goal that if your mantel has smiling pictures of a fireman, a professor, a pet shop owner, and an architect, that you will be equally proud of each one.

Don’t rob your child of fulfillment in pursuing a direction that “fits” with her gifts, and don’t rob the rest of us of his abilities as we plan, build, landscape, and repair. Frankly, we don’t need a whole lot more lawyers, executives, and investment bankers. We will always need capable cabinet-makers, graphic designers, tailors, and - yes - devoted mothers who work part-time out of the home. These less-glamorous spheres of labor, using active minds and active hands, are where tremendously valuable work gets done.

FACEBOOK STATUS UPDATE, MON, MAR 16, 2009:

3:49pm Christian reports: Berkeley (7lbs, 7oz - 20 in - 9.9 Apgar Scale) sends her love to all. She’s now feeding for the 1st time like she’s been doing it her whole life!

***

BACKSTORY:

Two and a half years ago, I had the pleasure of meeting my son, Beckett, for the first time.

As a first time father, Beckett’s arrival in our Ft. Worth, TX hospital delivery room — and his mother, Karla, who did all the heroic work that life-changing day — truly humbled me.  Trying to convey to my own mother on my cell phone a minutes later what it like to see him born and to hold him in my own arms was nearly impossible.  I simply lacked the words.  Tears replaced them as I fumbled to express myself.  Luckily, she understood and let me go back to my wife and son, telling me to give her a call later that night when time allowed me to fill her in more fully.

While photographs have allowed me to ‘remember’ those first few minutes/hours of Beckett’s young life, so much of what took place that afternoon has faded into the funky contours of the human brain, lost to the natural passing of time.  Even the entries I posted on our family blog only hit a few highlights, often written long after they took place.  The sense of the in-the-moment immediacy and wunderlust, however, was impossible to translate…

…until now.

FAST FORWARD:

Two and a half years later, my wife and I returned to the same hospital delivery unit to meet our first daughter, Berkeley.

Since Beckett’s birth, our family blog has magnified significantly from a tepid attempt to semi-privately ‘journal’ a few family moments here and there to the development of a robust hub of digital stories, photos, and videos that are now regularly shared with hundreds of family, friends, colleagues, and strangers around the world.  At last count, we’ve crossed the 2,250 blog post mark…and that was before our daughter’s birth.  We suspect a ‘few’ more will be added, too.

Additionally, we’ve added an iPhone to our tool set, not to mention dualing Facebook accounts for both parents. This means that just-in-time storytelling options have been magnified far beyond the boundaries of what a family blog can pull off.  Seems that blogging is so last status update.

It was only a matter of time before we’d put it all together, letting our family and friends grab a virtual real-time seat with us as we prepared to deliver our daughter via type-n-post Facebook status updates. something that would have been inconceivable not that long ago.

• Ever wondered how you’d tell the story of your child’s birth through the lens of 140-character Facebook status updates?
• Ever wondered what it’d be like to Facebook status update every step leading to, during, and after your child’s birth?
• Ever wonder how such a story would read, one status update at a time?

This is our story, told 140-characters (or less) at at time.

Continue Reading »

I just scored a gift-giving home run with a friend of mine who recently became a father (to a beautiful baby girl - I can’t cuddle that kiddo enough, I swear). What could possibly be more exciting to him than the set of purple and brown onesies? Well, I lent him my review copy of Jenna McCarthy’s brand-spankin’-new book, “Cheers to the New Dad!” and his wife  just told me he finished it within a day of getting home from the hospital and LOVED it………..

Do you realized the magnitude of what I just wrote? A parenting book. For Dads. And the dad actually found it useful……and relevant………and READ IT! Not knocking men at all, but from my experience, most guys like to go in and just DO parenting and skip most of the nonstop-parenting-book-reading stuff that women find addicting when newly pregnant and then again when the baby actually arrives.

Whoops, forgot to mention the other half of the book that my friend is dying to start now that her husband is finished with his half - the book flips over and is……….voila……..”Cheers to the New Mom!”

How cool is that? 2 books in one!

This book would be perfect as a gift for new parents or to buy for yourself when you’re getting ready to head to the hospital………I think all parents would agree that we can use all the help we can get!

Check out my review of Jenna’s first book, “The Parent Trip” - another great parenting read!

A few weeks ago, my 5 month old 52″ HD plasma television started acting really strange. I could turn power on and off, but I couldn’t select any other inputs nor could I adjust volume.

Rule number 1: pull power from wall… didn’t work.

Rule number 2: concede defeat and call tech support.

So I called Circuit City’s technical support line, which of course was closed, and then I tried calling Panasonic’s technical support line and they were also closed. I suppose watching a DVD on the ole’ laptop wasn’t so bad.

Saturday:

Called technical support with Panasonic and received word the issue was evidently firmware related. Now for all of you old timers out there, did you know televisions now have microprocessors and firmware? I’m used to this on computers and copiers, but not televisions. Will the wonders never cease.

I digress. They decided to mail me firmware. This would take a week to reach me… not good, but a decent fall back option if I run into problems.

Monday:

I’m over the fact that I couldn’t achieve technical support instant gratification, and called Circuit City’s technical support line one more time. I got a scheduler on the line, and someone was to be dispatched to my house on Thursday.

We are moving up in the world at least.

Wednesday:

Get a call from the proprietor of the local servicing agency and we talk through some things. He kindly offers to run out because he thinks it should be a 5 minute fix to re-flash the firmware.

The Cavalry Arrive:

The same gentlemen I spoke with pulls up driving a really big, red truck. He comes to the door wearing thick, square glasses and talked with a heavy southern accent. Seemed like a really nice guy.

He pulls out his paperwork with the SD card and walks over to the television. He stoops over to put the SD card in the slot, stops, and leans in closer. He looks back at me, and then again at the small slot in the front of the television.

He stands up, and looks at me and asks if I know how a quarter might have gotten put in the slot.

Ahh, the love of a child…

As he proceeded to clear the jam and hand me the quarter, I thanked him profusely for his visit, realizing he didn’t have to cover the problem under warranty.

I called my daughter down and begin to calmly explain the situation. She of course looks puzzled and asks, “It’s not a piggy bank?”

Well, if it is, that is the most expensive piggy bank I’ve ever seen. I will tell you all friends, the price of a quarter went way up.