Three leading fatherhood organizations are undertaking a yearlong “No Dad Alone” campaign to help more fathers find support and an understanding community.

Fathering Together, of which City Dads Group is a part, The National At-Home Dad Network and Fathers Eve will cross-promote each other’s work to amplify information, resources and events available to dads through each entity. The groups plan to use their organizations’ platforms, including social media, newsletters, blogs and podcasts. The three organizations combined have more than 180,000 followers on various popular social media channels.

“The No Dad Alone campaign aims to address the ever-growing stats surrounding men’s health, specifically, the negative stigmas and untrue portrayals of fathers in the home and beyond,” said Cordan James, executive director of Fathering Together. “The web of resources this collaborative provides will instantly increase the positive impacts of fathers. It will also give people language to address, engage and support fathers in need and elevate the spirit of fatherhood.”

No Dad Alone arose, in part, from increasing U.S. media attention to male loneliness, particularly among fathers. Societal pressures about maintaining traditional masculinity (for example, remaining strong, stoic and independent in difficult times) and fewer resources and attention devoted to helping dads as opposed to moms contribute to these issues.

“Fathers are often isolated and they are not always sure what to do or how to alleviate it,” said John Francis, a co-organizer of the Twin Cities Dad Group and founder of Fathers Eve. “I think this campaign brings awareness to an important issue many guys have trouble with.”

Keith Nagel, president of The National At-Home Dad Network, said, “By highlighting and showcasing each of our organizations’ great work, we can create and build a much larger network of support for all our dads than we could individually. We hope to make other dads aware of our support offerings while connecting our members with ones we don’t provide.”

The ambitious campaign, using the social media hashtag #NoDadAlone, starts Father’s Day weekend 2024 to the following one in 2025. A key kickoff and celebratory ending point will be the annual Fathers Eve celebrations those weekends.

“From my work in the fatherhood area for the last dozen or so years, I see lots of people and groups doing good things to try to help their audience or their local market, but I don’t see a lot of connectivity,” Francis said. “They’re great guys all doing good work. When we work together I know we will make a much larger impact on this important issue.”

About the No Dad Alone organizers

Each organization involved in No Dad Alone has embarked on similar, though separate, missions to provide support and community to dads. At various times, each has worked with the other on a campaign or event.

The National At-Home Dad Network was established in 2003, initially under the name Daddyshome Inc. The first national nonprofit for at-home dads, it focuses on advocacy, education and support for families with fathers as primary caregivers. The network offers a variety of online communities, webinars and virtual opportunities to connect throughout the year. Its annual conference for at-home fathers, HomeDadCon, marks its 28th year this October with a three-day event in St. Louis.

Since 2012, Fathers Eve has gathered groups of dads — formally or informally in public or private spaces — the night before Father’s Day to celebrate each other and the joys and challenges of fatherhood. The event, held in dozens of U.S. towns and cities, lets dads offer support to each other and help foster a positive fathering environment. It culminates in a toast, in person and online, at 8 p.m. local time in each U.S. time zone.

Fathering Together started with the “Dads with Daughters” Facebook group in 2018. It quickly grew to have more than 125,000 followers supporting each other’s efforts to be great fathers. In 2020, the founders created the current nonprofit. It offers Facebook communities, a podcast, and a variety of webinars and resources supporting dads.

City Dads Group began in 2008 as a playgroup for at-home dads and their children in New York City. It now consists of groups of fathers who meet, with and without their kids, in 40 cities across the United States and one in Canada. City Dads Group merged with Fathering Together in 2023.

Dads can celebrate and appreciate each others’ parenting work on the night of June 15, 2024 — Fathers Eve.

The annual event, now in its 13th year, is meant to allow dads to have a chance to show gratitude and support for one another. This differs from Father’s Day as that holiday is for families to honor dads.

Since 2012, groups of fathers have gathered formally or informally in public or private spaces to swap parenting stories, offer support to each other and help foster a positive fathering environment. John Francis, a co-organizer of our Twin Cities Dads Group in Minnesota, began the tradition by inviting several dad friends to his house for beers, billiards and swapping stories about fatherhood. Fathers Eve is now recognized as an official “national day” by the National Day Archives.

Over the years, scores of celebrations have been held annually in backyards and businesses across the United States and a few international locations. The organization has also helped raise thousands of dollars for parenting and children’s organizations.

Where to celebrate Fathers Eve 2024

Several City Dads chapters will be among those hosting Fathers Eve 2024 events (click city to find event listing and RSVP) :

• Charlotte, N.C.
• Chicago
• Cincinnati
• Columbus, Ohio
• Denver
• Fresno, Calif.
• Los Angeles
• Minneapolis/St. Paul, Minn. – Twin Cities
• New York City – Port Washington
• Phoenix

(DISCLOSURE: City Dads Group has been a longtime sponsor for Fathers Eve, donating money and helping organize events through our chapters. Fathering Together is also a sponsor.)

A complete listing of Fathers Eve 2024 events can be found on its website.

Virtual celebration available online

If you can’t attend a Fathers Eve 2024 event in person, don’t despair. A virtual online live-streaming of celebrations will again be held this year. A live stream replaced in-person events in 2020 because of the COVID-19 pandemic, and has supplemented organized celebrations since.

The online event starts at 7 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time on June 15. The countdowns to the annual celebratory toast start shortly before the start of 8 p.m. local time in each U.S. time zone. You can sign up for the live stream to share at your event or watch individually.

“Dude, you can live with us if you need to!”

My childhood buddy, Tim, blurted these words when I told him my parents were divorcing. I was 17 years old at the time, and to this day I appreciate his dramatic concern for me.

But I had to smile and remind him: “I’m not becoming an orphan. But thanks for the offer.”

Tim’s offer was tempting. His parents, Jerry and Ann, had been like a “second Dad and Mom” to me for years. Although I enjoyed a healthy upbringing and loved my parents, Tim’s house became the neighborhood “hub” or hangout, especially for boys, during my childhood. The main reason? He had three brothers—Cary, Bryan and Brendan—who loved to play pick-up sports.

The brothers and a group of neighborhood buddies would play street hockey out front, ping pong in the basement, and/or card games in the kitchen nearly every day. During a few of those early years we even played ice hockey on a backyard rink, and Jerry would help me tie my skates. Even before we knew we were hungry, Ann would provide a vat of chili or a pan full of bacon to be devoured by growing boys.

My Second Mom — the “boy whisperer”

Looking back, Ann was especially gifted as the mother of four boys. Somehow she navigated all that roughhousing and trash-talking (along with all that equipment) with grace. And her skills as a nurse helped with all the minor injuries compiled along the way.

You could say Ann was a “boy whisperer.” She often used humor to cope with the chaos surrounding her. For example, she hung an attractive sign above the toilet in the basement bathroom that read: “My aim is to keep this bathroom clean. Your aim will help.”

One of her favorite stories about raising four boys involved her son Bryan when he was young. On a particularly frustrating day as a tired mother buried in childcare, she lamented aloud that she always thought her life would be filled with fame and fortune. Then she heard Bryan’s little voice try to encourage her.

“Guess you have to go to Plan B, Mom!” he said.

Ann would always cackle at that punchline, displaying just how much she loved her boys—a different kind of family wealth.

Ann was not all food and games, however. Whenever we stepped out of line, she would gently nudge us to be better people by saying “hear—hear.” That was her way of getting our attention. What she was really saying was “Have a conscience at the base of all that goofing around.”

No doubt my childhood friends and I didn’t thank Ann enough back then. But that is what made her well-attended 80^th birthday party so special several years ago. Because Ann had “showed up” for them as boys, many of those neighborhood buddies “showed up” for her decades later. I have never seen so many grown men (including myself) proclaiming their gratitude to one woman for positively impacting their boyhoods.

During our many toasts to Ann, it was as if she had created a “Fifth Son” Olympics in which we were all competing. Of course, she had already won the gold medal in the “Second Mom” event. One guy even called Ann his “Second Mom” in front of his “First Mom,” who looked on approvingly because she was Ann’s friend and former neighbor.

Appreciate “Second Moms and Dads”

Sadly, Jerry passed away many years ago, and Ann passed more recently. Perhaps the most poignant image from Ann’s memorial service featured many of those same grown men “showing up” again to carry her casket. That is the power of a “Second Mom.”

Although “second Moms and Dads” don’t get a national day of recognition, maybe they should. So be sure to think about the people who may have acted as “second parents” in your childhood. Try to thank them, if possible. Hopefully, you can also serve as a second parent to some of your children’s friends. Be a host, coach, teach, carpool, tell stories or just plain show up and listen to them.

Tim’s offer for me to join his family back in a moment of crisis when I was 17 made me realize I would always have both a first and a second home in this world. Many decades later, I visited Ann in a nursing home, shortly before her passing. When she saw me, her eyes lit up and she whispered: “Vin-Man.” That was one of my nicknames in childhood, and hearing her say it made me feel like a superhero. 

In essence, that’s what “second parents” do. They make children feel special and show them they have a second home if needed. Hence, “Second Moms and Dads” are like Plan B. So here’s to Plan B!   

Two leading fatherhood support networks will soon unite as a single organization dedicated to championing fathers and helping them succeed at being actively engaged parents.

City Dads Group and Fathering Together will operate as one, creating a stronger and more comprehensive platform to help provide vital resources and connections to fathers in and through local communities across the globe.

City Dads Group is a diverse community of fathers dedicated to being actively involved in their children’s lives. Founded in 2008, City Dads Group has chapters in 41 cities across the United States and Canada. The chapters focus on holding in-person gatherings of fathers, with or without their children present, where bonding, commiseration and support can take place.

Fathering Together is a nonprofit global network of more than 125,000 fathers and allies around the world dedicated to promoting active fatherhood and providing support, resources, advocacy and education for dads. Established in 2018, Fathering Together started years earlier as a Facebook group “Dads with Daughters” which quickly blossomed to include tens of thousands of fathers sharing stories, seeking advice and offering wisdom.

The new organization, to be headed by Fathering Together’s current leadership team, is a strategic partnership that will result in a broader online and in-person network, enhanced programming, and a more significant impact on the lives of fathers, families and communities.

“We are thrilled to join with Fathering Together to strengthen, sustain and expand our communities,” said Matt Schneider, co-founder of City Dads Group. “We have a real opportunity to positively impact the way we view and value fathers as a society.”

Lance Somerfeld, co-founder of City Dads Group, added, “Since the pandemic, we’ve been trying to figure out the best path forward for our communities of dads to evolve, grow and thrive. We felt that the most authentic, seamless, and strategic partner to fulfill that goal was joining forces with Fathering Together.”

Key benefits of the partnership include:

1. Expanded Reach: The new organization will reach over 150,000 dads across the globe with in-person groups in Canada, Kenya, Malawi, and the United States.

2. Innovative Programming: The entity will offer more robust programs including school-based “social emotional learning” for dads, online panels, and in-person meetups to empower dads to be advocates for change.

3. Inclusive Community: As members define fatherhood for themselves, regardless of background or identity, all will be welcome to share their story, and grow together in their journey.

Brian Anderson, co-founder and board president of Fathering Together, said, “We are honored that City Dads Group places their faith in us to continue advocating for fathers worldwide. We look forward to bringing the City Dads Group community into ours so we might empower dads to be emotionally courageous, connected, and committed to their families.”

Read the official press announcement.

Photo by Tyler Nix on Unsplash

Editor’s Note: The author of this post requested, and was granted, anonymity for this article to protect the identity of his family members. This post originally ran in 2018.

When I was a child and having one of my many disagreements with my mother, a retort from her would often be, “Wait until you’re a parent. Then you’ll understand.” Since becoming a dad myself several years ago, I’ve been thinking about that phrase a lot.

Like many contemporary dads, I am a different kind of parent than my father. Broadly speaking, I’m more present than he was in my childhood. The conventional wisdom is that social and cultural norms were different “back then.” We should cut, say a distant father, some slack because of this. Not me.

My father appeared to be a nice, gentle man. He never disciplined me, rarely even raised his voice. But then, I didn’t see much of him. He would leave the house for work before I woke. He would be back for dinner. He often worked weekends.

He never did the school drop-off or pickup routine. Never read me a bedtime story. Never came to a “parent’s evening” to meet my teachers or classmates’ mothers and fathers. He rarely spent time alone with me.

Now, as a father myself, I find this almost unthinkable.

A specific example of how little time my father and I spent together is this: I can count on one hand the movies my dad took me to see. On two fingers to be precise (ICYI: Bronco Billy and Airplane). I’ve been taking my daughter to see movies since she was 3 years old. I’ve lost count of how many hours we have shared together, side by side in a darkened theater.

To me, it boils down to this — I LOVE spending time with her, and sharing in those things she’s enthused about (like movies). My dad’s lack of this in my own childhood seemed at best lazy at the time. But it wasn’t simply that.

Distant father started as a prison dad

When I was a teenager, I discovered my father had been in prison (no one told me — I found some letters in the attic). He was incarcerated from when I was a baby until I was 4. He didn’t see me at all that entire time. In contrast, I spent this equivalent period with my daughter as a stay-at-home dad. When I think of the amazing time I spent with our daughter, the heartlessness of his subsequent decision to not spend time with me is amplified.

It gets worse.

Despite the prison time — for embezzlement — he somehow had a successful career as an office manager. He would often work late and on weekends. Ah, that explains why he spent so little time with me. He was too busy funding our house and home.

Nope. He was too busy having an affair.

An affair that began within a few years of him coming out of prison. An affair that lasted until I stumbled upon it when I was 19. He eventually co-owned the property she lived in. He was living a fantasy second life there, where he didn’t have a family to live with.

There’s a sucker punch. He took out his mortgage with her in my name.

This all came to light when I opened a piece of mail I thought was addressed to me (my father and I have the same first initial). The letter turned out to be about the property he owned with her. I still remember the sarcastic “thank you” he repeatedly directed at me while my mother screamed at him.

The full scale of his betrayal only came to light a few years ago, when he randomly blurted out a confession to my mother (they’re still together) while reacting to a melodramatic plot on a TV drama.

His sorry behavior is alien to me. Abhorrent. I’m supposed to dismiss this as “things were different back then”? No.

I haven’t confronted him about any of it — the lies, the betrayal, his lack of interest in my childhood. He has a heart condition, and I can’t trust myself to not explode at him. But I can barely stand to be around him, and I do my best to avoid speaking to him.

So I simply seethe with internal anger whenever I think of this whole sorry scenario. Fuck that guy. Never be that guy. Never be ANYTHING like that guy. You’re a good dad, I tell myself. That guy is an asshole.

Then I think about my daughter. My amazing daughter. Who I love and adore. And who will never – ever – have a father like that.

Photo: Trym Nilsen on Unsplash

Editor’s Note: We’re digging into our archives to find great articles you might have missed. This tale about an at-home dad finding new friends comes from 2018.

Someone at the park handed me their phone number today. I’m planning on calling tonight!

If you are a little confused, that’s understandable. I am a 35-year-old man with an amazing wife of six years and three awesome kids. Why am I still getting girls’ phone numbers?

I never said I was getting a girl’s phone number: the digits I’m getting these days are of fellow stay-at-home dads.

Finding new adult friends as an at-home father is no day at the park. If you thought it was difficult to ask a girl for her phone number in a bar when you were 21, try asking another grown man for his phone number at the playground. It is not just awkward, but a little creepy.

But that is exactly what it has come to. Finding friends as a stay-at-home dad means you start at your new hangouts: the local park, school playground or zoo. You see other dads at these places, too. Since most dads with full-time jobs are also not able to push their kids on the swings at 10:30 on a Thursday morning, so it quickly becomes apparent who the other stay-at-home dads are.

The interactions with other fathers usually start small, with some type of primal grunt in the general direction of the dad. That is most likely the only interaction the two of you will have at that time. If you see each other a couple more times, one of you may even get up enough courage to muster, “Hey, how’s it goin’?” After a few more encounters the conversations begin and usually happen in this order:

1. Which ones are yours?
2. So how old are your kids?
3. Do you stay at home with them full-time?
4. What did you do before you stayed home with your kids?
5. So what does your wife do? (Probably the oddest question of them all.)

After the obligatory questions have been asked and answered, then snap judgments must be made about this guy’s entire family.

Could I really see myself hanging out with this guy?

Do his kids seem a little weird? I’m not sure I want my kids hanging out with somebody’s weird kids.

What if all he is interested in are shotguns and NASCAR? Will we ever have anything to talk about?

What if this guy is really a psycho? I don’t want to invite some psycho to come to my house and hang out with my kids.

And I sure hope he’s not a Yankees fan.

After this quick assessment has been made and the dad is deemed acceptable, it’s time to make a move. Want to get our kids together sometime? Deep breath … here goes … “How ’bout we exchange phone numbers so we can set something up for next week?”

And that’s it. You and your kids have found some new friends to play with, even if they are weird, gun-toting, NASCAR-loving, psycho Yankees fans.

A version of this first appeared on Indy’s Child. Finding friends on a beach photo by Tyler Nix on Unsplash

Wisdom can be found wherever you are willing to let it in.

Sounds like a fortune cookie, doesn’t it?

Anyway, I think I made it up – feel free to quote me or tweet it. Even if I didn’t make it up, it’s something I believe very much. Another time when this credo was proven correct recently when I learned the secret is nothing.

One of my sons recently wanted to see the first Kung Fu Panda movie again, so we took the movie out of the library. He even asked me to join him since I had never seen the movie. Bonding time – why not?

Here’s a summary for the uninitiated. For those who know the movie, skip to the next paragraph.

A panda, Po, is chosen to be the Dragon Warrior, the ultimate kung fu warrior. The choice was surprising because up to that point, Po had been working in his father’s noodle restaurant. On top of that, he was big, clumsy, and clueless in the ways of kung fu. Those who had been trained and were excellent at kung fu were disappointed at not being chosen and doubtful that Po was the chosen one. There’s a desperate need for the Dragon Warrior because an evil warrior has escaped prison and is headed toward the town looking to take revenge. Ultimately, Po trains and proves his mettle by defeating the evil warrior and saving the town.

The movie was pleasant enough and had some nice typical child-friendly themes and moments. There is the underdog from humble beginnings who overcomes and ultimately becomes the hero. Before he takes his place as a hero, a problem arises that must be overcome.

Po has earned the title of Dragon Warrior and was given the ancient scroll which he was supposed to understand due to his position. However, the scroll is empty, blank. There was no wisdom to impart. The only thing Po saw was his own reflection. Maybe the whole idea of a warrior was a hoax as well.

Po, dejected, turns back and goes to his father. Sensing his son’s mood, Po’s father tells him the secret to his noodles: “The secret is … nothing.” He explains that something becomes special if people truly believe that it is.

From there, Po is revived. He recognizes the message of the scroll about believing in himself, and he becomes the hero that he was destined to be.

Could that be true of everything? Something or someone becomes special only if a person truly believes that it is. The secret is nothing. There is no secret.

We spend our lives looking, chasing, and seeking. For what? For understanding, for knowledge, for joy.

I take so much for granted including the health of my family and myself. Yet, is there anything more precious than that? If I recognized how special each blessing was, how rich, how content, how happy would I be?

The idea of believing in yourself and appreciating your blessings is not a new one. I suspect every faith and belief system includes some sort of call to believe.

However, despite the simplicity, it’s hard to do. I suspect we’d be more successful if we kept in mind that the secret is nothing.

I have a lot to learn. I might need to watch the other Kung Fu Panda movies. I need more knowledge and wisdom.

A version of this first appeared on Me, Myself and Kids. Photo: © fran_kie / Adobe Stock.

Editor’s Note: We’re digging into our ample archives to find some great articles you might have missed over the years. This Father’s Day recollection comes from 2015.

Until my own first child was born, fatherhood was just what my dad did, and all I had ever done was take it for granted.

My earliest memories are of sitting on his shrinking lap, a slice of jean-covered thigh quickly losing ground between the random growth spurts of a lanky boy and the constant expansion of an ex-smoker’s belly. I sat there for years sharing tickles, snacks and forgotten conversations. There was a montage of facial hair, and I was captivated by its splendor or the sudden lack of it. Everything was long legs and gangly tussles. I nestled happily in the swell of my father’s contentment.

The years stretched and the stories we planted sprouted stories of their own. The days passed, blooming with milestones, lessons, and the fragrant sweetness of life in hindsight. Fond memories wafted down a timeline, always spinning toward what will be and always remembering what has been. The scent was fantastic and the world somewhat dizzy.

We spent days together that grew into weeks, rolled into months, and segued into years as smoothly as you like. I was hanging one arm out the window of a blue and bruised Datsun pickup, home in the welcome give of a worn bench seat, my father popping pistachios in time to an AM radio already out of date. I was bronze and blond, buck-toothed and skinny, and I was glorious against the sinking horizon that we spend our whole lives chasing. My father was a smile in sunglasses, a song on his breath, and he was younger than I ever knew.

The journey also took us through fields of frustration tended with firm hands and cultivated by consequence. There were sidetracks and shortcuts, disappointment, and discipline, but all days ended in sunsets and every morning the sun would rise. There were birds in the distance and a whistle brought them nearer.

At some point, our kisses fell from lips to cheeks to hugs masked as handshakes. The emotions on our sleeves grew heavy and hard to carry. Life has a way of twisting and testing, and it wrings out the innocence with the sweat and the tears, leaving two grown men in the shade of all that we built, awkward with gratitude and loving one another.

I remember the day I called my dad to tell him the news. He was at work in Arizona, and I was states away, sitting in a parking lot with my wife and our giddiness.

“You are going to be a grandfather,” I said into the phone. His joy was instant and electric.

I spent the next nine months trying to examine the examples he had given, preparing to cross to the other side, the fatherhood side of my experience. My wife and I went on long walks through wet, winding woods, and we talked about the things that we would do when the baby came. We were all things but patient, and we walked around again.

“It’s a boy,” I said through more tears than rain. My father had been sleeping with the phone by his side and had answered before the first ring ended. “You have a grandson.”

And then I rambled about the all of it — full of I-had-no-ideas and now-I-sees. I got it, suddenly, like a swift kick to the head I never knew I needed. The road opened wide before me, and the future teased us all with a glimmer, orange and bright, warm with promise and paths untaken. Then I returned to my wife and our new baby boy, him bundled tight and her softly sleeping. The room was already spinning with fatherhood and motion.

Then three years later we did it all again, but this time with dimples.

Now I spend all my days on the dad side of the fence, where the grass is always greener and in desperate need of trimming. It is my lap slowly shrinking and my shadows being cast. We are the stories being written and we are living in our memories.

I don’t see my own father often enough, but I see my boys every day. Their eyes are like time machines, always racing toward tomorrow, taking lessons from the past, and making the most of the now well before it passes. And it turns out, my father is here, in all of that. The next time we meet I will tell him so, and perhaps a small kiss upon the cheek will show him.

Fatherhood isn’t just something my dad did. It is something he taught me, and it is a thing we do together regardless of the miles between us.

And so it goes. The shadows we cast grow longer as the days grow shorter. We wax and we wane. We give love and we take love. That is the way of fatherhood, and I wouldn’t have it any other.

I learned that from my father.

This post first appeared on Honea Express. An earlier version appeared on Safely.com. Main photo: © ivanko80 / Adobe Stock. Other photos: Contributed.

There’s a natural progression of life most of us experience, no matter our race, ethnicity or background. We grow up: from childhood to adolescence to teenage years, eventually transitioning into adulthood. If we’re lucky, along the way we’ll have parents to guide us as we navigate life. The lessons we receive from them stay with us forever and provide a roadmap for when we encounter the various challenges of life. They also help us when we become parents ourselves.

While we may not be the same type of parent that ours were to us growing up, at the very least we have a blueprint to follow. That’s the beauty of parenthood. It’s also what has made me nervous from the moment I found out I was going to be a dad.

Being a parent means I have the responsibility to mold and shape a life, to prepare a child for every scenario it may face. I may not have all the answers, but when my children leave the nest, they should be well-equipped to be productive members of society. I was fortunate to have that in my life growing up, and I hope to do the same for my kids.

The jarring reality of aging parents

As I’ve become fully ingrained into fatherhood, my parents have transitioned into grandparent mode. This has made me realize there’s actually something I was not prepared for – dealing with aging parents. It’s inevitable if we are blessed enough to have our parents still with us. It’s still shocking nonetheless.

Growing up, we idolize our parents, especially our dads. They were superheroes. Even with their faults, they were larger-than-life figures who did everything in their power to provide for their families. That vision we have of them remains, even as we age ourselves. That’s why it’s so jarring when the reality of what they are now sets in.

Over the past few years, my dad has experienced some health challenges. The man I knew growing up has slowed down. The weekly routine for my parents now includes visits to various doctors to make sure they’re staying on top of their health. But the decline is not just physical. It’s mental as well. With the ever-changing technology landscape, parents often struggle to keep up, leaving it up to us to provide tech support to connect to Wi-Fi, “the Facebook,” and streaming services. And it always happens at the most inopportune time.

Patience, grace and love lead the way

Just as I have to exercise patience with my kids as they grow up, I have to do the same with my parents as they grow older. It’s a balancing act that forces me to flip the switch depending on who I’m dealing with.

They both require different versions of me. As a dad, I have to realize my kids are still new to the world. They’re still learning. I have to remind myself that they’re always watching and their little eyes see every reaction I have. They see how I act and how I respond to them. So even as they work my nerves, I have to remain cool. As a son, I have to exercise patience that is rooted in grace. The grace that helps me be understanding and gentle with my parents as they navigate this stage of their lives. As frustrating as it may get at times, I can’t lose my cool with them, either.

We owe it to our parents to be there for them in their golden years. That doesn’t make it any less challenging. It can test our sanity, for sure. Especially when we have our own responsibilities as parents to our own kids. I know what they’ve done for me over the years, so I push through. I also know one day I’ll be in the same position. And hopefully, my kids will be there for me to lend a helping hand.

Aging parents photo: ©Tetiana Soares / Adobe Stock.

Editor’s Note: Back in 2014, City Dads Group co-founders Matt Schneider and Lance Somerfeld were asked to write about what they thought moms, bosses, and others should know about modern dads. Their words, which first appeared in New York Family magazine, still hold true today.

Modern dads can hack it

Generally, we as a society still haven’t quite come around to the idea that dads are also parents. If a dad takes his child on public transportation, goes grocery shopping, or bakes cupcakes for the school fundraiser, he’s a rock star. We’re over-praised by strangers for displaying even the most basic level of involvement in our children’s lives. Recently, on a crowded crosstown bus, Lance was reading a picture book with his son when a lady complimented him for being a “great dad.” What about all of the other moms and caregivers riding the bus with their children? Were they “great” parents too? The bar is still set extremely low for fathers, and we’re asking society to elevate their parenting expectations for us. We can deliver. Just give us the chance.

Today’s fathers love talking about parenting

There’s a mystique and misconception that modern dads keep their feelings inside when it comes to important topics like parenting and relationships. At NYC Dads Group, we have hosted parenting workshops about potty training, happy/healthy sleep habits, admission to preschool, becoming a new dad, and child passenger safety. We have heated conversations during these workshops. Dads were champing at the bit to share their opinions surrounding all topics of parenting. Modern dads want to share best practices for wiping their daughters after a poop, what to do when their kid refuses to nap, or what app they can use to log feedings during the first few months. They also want to vent their many frustrations. There’s the lack of changing stations in public restrooms, the lost spontaneity that comes with strict nap and feeding schedules, and not having enough personal time to pursue hobbies, see friends, or exercise. Today’s dads want to talk parenting — they just need the right forum.

New dads want it all

New and expectant dads are worried about how to be successful at work and successful at home. These dads share their fears and concerns about long hours, business travel, lack of paid family leave and/or flexible benefits, and rigid corporate culture. Not surprisingly, studies show that most dads want to be successful both in their careers and as fathers. We encourage dads to figure out what benefits they have and use them. They need to be transparent with supervisors so their bosses and coworkers know that being a parent is important. After that, we encourage working dads to carve out special time each week to tune in and do something they enjoy with their children.

Modern dads want to be on the team

Parenting is challenging work whether it’s mom or dad in charge. We believe in the idea that dads can be just as nurturing, capable, and confident as moms. Our children need to be fed, cared for, brought to school, assisted with homework, and shuttled to practice. Domestic chores like laundry, cleaning the home, and paying bills need to be tackled, and we’ve drawn the conclusion that it’s so much easier as a high-performance tag team of two. Today’s dads need ample opportunities early and often to learn. Too frequently, moms feel as if they’re the only ones who can properly care for their children, and dads are pushed aside. Please let us fail miserably, pull ourselves up, and learn from our mistakes so we can be capable partners.

Today’s fathers are different

Research shows fathers are more physical with their children. We might push them to take more risks. We also might do less housework, be the “fun” parent, and be more strict disciplinarians.

Frankly, we see plenty of dads on all sides of the spectrum — from the dad who totes around a paring knife and cutting board so fruits and vegetables are prepared at the ready to the dad who doesn’t cook at all and is fine with store-bought snacks. We see the handy dad who turns a milk carton and popsicle sticks into a birdhouse, and dads who pay their building’s super to put together the new toy kitchen. We see the dads who hover over their children as they move from one rung to the next on the monkey bars and dads who encourage their children to scale a 10-foot-high park fence. In our experience, modern dads don’t care about these misconceptions about whether we do it the same or different.

Bottom line? Children benefit from being exposed to various parenting styles. Feel free to find your rhythm, go with your gut, and embrace your differences.

Photo: © opolja / Adobe Stock.