If I’ve learned anything during my fatherhood journey thus far, I’ve learned that parenting is a 24-7 job.

There’s literally always something going on. The free time we once enjoyed as single, childless men is long gone. From the newborn stage where all your attention is focused on figuring out how to keep this little person alive through the early school years where calendars are filled with extracurricular activities, and on to the teenage years when you’re helping guide your children into young adulthood, fatherhood is a never-ending cycle of being here, there, and everywhere for the sake of your kids.

While stressful, tiresome, and thankless, it’s what we signed up for. It’s a calling. A responsibility for us as fathers to be active and involved every step of the way. 

With that, however, we have to be sure we’re taking time for ourselves. Fathers have to prioritize mental and physical health so we can be the best version of ourselves possible for our children, especially as we age. For those of us fortunate enough to be in healthy marriages, relationships, and partnerships with the mothers of our children, it can’t go without saying how beneficial it is to have someone by your side to help share the load of parenting, because it gets heavy. 

Even so, as men, we are wired to be “strong,” to not show any signs of weakness. No matter what we’re carrying internally, there’s no time for that. After all, we have to get the kids ready for school, for bed, and everything in between. That’s the priority. It has to get done, right? But at what expense?

Make self-care a priority in parenting

I’d like to think I’m pretty good at taking care of myself. I work out regularly. Every now and then, I’m able to hang out with the guys and enjoy some time away from the kids. But, if I’m being honest, dad burnout smacks me in the face often. And when it does, it tends to simply stay there.

For me, it comes as a result of being in a constant state of “doing.” I pride myself on being an active father – coaching soccer, taking my son to swim class, picking my daughter up from daycare, and being available whenever my wife needs me. And not to mention the day-to-day household responsibilities of a husband and father. The “go go go” mentality I and other dads have is, yes, what we’re supposed to do. But it’s also a recipe for fatigue.

Simply put, at times I find myself stretched thin. And no dad wants to feel that. Even with the most routine challenges of fatherhood, we shouldn’t have our overall well-being put at risk. In looking for a healthy balance, we have to be sure we’re being intentional in carving out time for us. That may mean altering our schedule to fit in a walk during the day. Find a dad tribe to have a space to talk openly and honestly about your experiences. The connections made through other dads will help you realize that you’re not the only one going through it. We can be there for each other.

Most importantly, we have to be open with our partners. Just as we need moms to be open with us when they need a break, we as dads need to be vulnerable enough to say we need a break, even for a few hours. 

We have to be there for ourselves so we can be there for our kids.

Caring for yourself photo: © Antonioguillem / Adobe Stock.

My 6-year-old son is normally the happiest, most high-energy kid around. Then, in mid-October, something shifted.

He was morose at pickups and unwilling to share anything about his day at school. The moping carried on for weeks.

I contacted his teacher, concerned something was happening in the classroom. Maybe he was being bullied or struggling with some learning concepts. The teacher said she had seen no evidence of those issues. 

Instead, he was picking up stress from his parents.

I finally realized this one November morning. My son looked downright depressed. I knelt down, meeting his eyes. I gently asked if he wanted to talk.

“It’s my zoo,” he replied.

While only 6, he has a keen interest in running a zoo and animal sanctuary when he’s older. Animals are his passion. He even requests time to “work on his life plan” as he calls it. This involves detailed sketches of his future zoo, along with notes about what the animals will require for care.

“What about your zoo?” I asked. 

“I’m worried no one will come. I’ll build a great zoo, and I’ll work really hard, but what if no matter what’s there, I can’t get any visitors?”

This sentence struck me hard. It even broke my heart a bit because I’d heard it before. Not about a zoo, but about a store. 

Our kids feel what we feel

This past May, my wife founded an online store dedicated to non-food vegan goods. Yet, like any new business, the store came with many challenges. At one point, while our kids were watching TV, Rachel told me she was frustrated.

“I’m worried that no one will come,” she’d said. “I built a great store, and we work really hard, but how do we get more visitors?” 

Inadvertently, we’d transferred our stress about starting a new business to our son with him internalizing it as his own worries about a future career.

This is not surprising, according to Dr. Shannon Renner, a school psychologist at Pine Bush School in upstate New York.

“Kids are sponges, they have big eyes and big ears that are always watching and listening,” she said in an interview.

But hiding our adult emotions in front of our children isn’t the answer.

“The most concrete plan a parent can have is to simply name and explain their emotions or the events, in an age-appropriate way, and model how they are going to problem solve when a child witnesses the stress,” Renner said. “For example, ‘My plan is not working, but I am not going to give up. I am going to try and come up with a new plan to get friends to visit my store.’” 

With this advice in mind, my wife and I talked to our son together. We told him we realized he was concerned about our store and that it’s OK to feel stressed at times. With that, the three of us came up with a plan focused on his needs — his zoo.

Explain, plan and beat stress as a family

We found ourselves in a similar situation recently.

This time, my son was excited about something he’d planned. He’d been writing long lists and wanted us to help him make a countdown. It turned out he’d planned to turn our backyard into a pond. When we gently told him this wasn’t going to happen, he got very upset.

Yet, we again realized he’d picked up on our stress.

We had recently lost the childcare provider for our 3-year-old daughter, flipping our lives in an unexpected direction. So, again, we had to discuss our feelings, our emotions, and our plans. We discussed needing to pivot when one set of expectations didn’t work out. And now, just as we were working out a plan about childcare, we worked with our son on coming up with a plan for something else to get excited about.

It’s not easy. Kids leech the emotions around them. And those stresses will keep coming. Be ready to share what you’re feeling and devise a plan with your kids. Hiding stress won’t help, but naming it might.

Photo: © Ella / Adobe Stock.

The house had been quiet for half an hour, the air so still I could hear the high-pitched motor of the condensate pump in the downstairs utility closet humming through the air vents upstairs. The only hint of life came from the occasional swoosh of traffic out on the street. A sense of calm settled over me.

I was experiencing something unusual for a parent: a moment to myself.

For the first time in what felt like months, nothing and no one demanded my time and attention. There was no calamity to contend with, no housework to be done, no emails or texts in need of reply, no bills immediately due, no homework to be done, no dinner to be cooked, no child to be shuttled to and fro, no appointments to schedule, no phone calls to return, and no honey-dos to, well, do.

The world of endless demands had come to a temporary halt. I was damn near giddy.

My wife had left for work that Monday morning, taking our daughter with her to drop off at school. I stayed home, grateful for the privilege to telecommute, and another full half hour before I had to plug back into The Matrix.

Like the character Neo from the movie franchise, I began to see my thoughts as binary code forms of zeros and ones rather than their surface-level appearance. A moment of clarity seized me.

I’d been saying yes when I should have said no.

I didn’t just need a vacation. I needed a sabbatical.

It wasn’t just being tired from adulting; I was burned out as a caregiver.

Relieve the everyday stress, every day

It’s a byproduct of multiple stressors. Raising a special needs child with little family support. Supporting a spouse through long stretches of unemployment. Having a fulfilling yet demanding career. Joining the ranks of the “sandwich generation,” those 30- and 40-somethings who are raising children while caring for aging parents. You make sacrifices over the years to shoulder the load, to carry on, to do all that needs to be done, only to realize you’ve neglected to prioritize the most important component in the equation: you.

It reminds me of the ubiquitous Internet quote from author Alexander Den Heijer: “You often feel tired, not because you’ve done too much, but because you’ve done too little of what sparks a light in you.”

Why do some of us in our roles as fathers, husbands, parents and caregivers find it so difficult to practice self-care? I don’t just mean the glitter-speak notions of yoga, spa days, and walks in the park (I’m game for those, by the way). I mean the practice of taking time to simply exist with no expectation of doing something or getting something done. What has happened to the habit of pausing the busyness of our lives long enough to examine how we ended up with so much to do in the first place?

This is especially true for men. Research released in 2021 showed: 

• 23% of men spend less than 30 minutes a day on activities that relax, de-stress and recharge themselves.
• 44% of men report “they could do a better job of taking care of themselves.”
• 83% of men agree that they do not worry about self-care since they don’t think it’s important.

Researchers and experts say men think of self-care practices as either feminine or unnecessarily self-indulgent. This prevents men from reaching an optimal level of healthiness, mental and physical, to help them meet the demands parenthood, work and life bring.

The moment I realized

So, like death and taxes, the exhaustion of life comes for us all — man or woman, parent or childless. But this unexpected hour of stillness helped me tune in to what sustains me.

There I sat at my home office desk, looking at the photos lining it. These snapshots are of the people, past and present, family and friends, who anchor my life.

There’s my cheerful daughter posing pretty in pink in a second-grade portrait. There’s my lovely wife flashing a smile as we walk through a nature park in Jamaica. Just over from her, I see my uncle Johnny, the pigeon fancier, in a loft tending to his birds. Next, I see my mother embracing 7-year-old me from behind as we stand in front of a grocery store display. Over there is my fraternity brother at his MBA graduation with his beaming parents. And there’s my grandmother in her younger years, footloose and fancy-free, strutting her stuff at a club. Reflecting on these memories tapped into the abundance of love in my life.

Filled with a deep sense of gratitude, I opened my work laptop and logged in.

I again felt ready to re-enter The Matrix.

Take a moment photo: © Antonioguillem / Adobe Stock.

I’m a bit of a pessimist. When I type that sentence, I’m at war with the feelings no one will ever read it, no editor will accept it and no writer will respect it. This defeatist inner monologue is annoying when trying to be creative, but it’s dangerous for a father of young children.

If I were to list all the reasons why I prefer my children to never leave my home, I’m confident I’d smash my word limit entirely too soon. As a parent, you don’t need me to detail the threats looming just outside the door. If the Netflix documentaries I torture myself with are a reflection of reality, for some kids, those threats come from within the home. Then there are the constant threats from strangers and people we trust, from foreign agents and domestic despots. How do any of us let the soft hands of our children slip our grip and find their own way?

Sometimes, I try to satisfy my parental anxiety by quoting statistics. The chance of anything really terrible happening to any one person, at any one time, is extremely low. I accept the truth of the math, but when I constantly feel like I’m white-knuckling a cross-wind landing with a couple of hundred other people, I’m not comforted. Nor am I comforted by the math when I’m kissing my kids goodbye. However small the chance may be, there is a chance I’ll never kiss them again.

I told you I was a pessimist.

Paralysis from parental anxiety costs your kids

I can always find a reason not to go to the zoo — and I love going to the zoo. Traffic is a chronic concern. What’s parking going to be like when we finally get there? We live in Florida, so it will be hot and uncomfortable and the kids will inevitably complain. We won’t stay nearly as long as I want, considering the effort it takes to mobilize our family of five. It’s too expensive to get in. It’s too expensive to purchase anything once inside. The place will be filled with annoying people. People who don’t watch where they’re walking. People who wear purposefully provocative, politically themed T-shirts just to see who might react. There will be rides for the kids, but the lines will be too long. Besides, when was the last time that ride has been serviced? How attentive is the bored teenager operating the controls? And you know what? That polar bear really, really looks eager to swallow a toddler.

A variation of the above paragraph flashes through my mind the instant my wife casually asks, “Hey, wanna’ go to the zoo today?” I often wonder what it’d be like to be normal, or at least open to the possibility that something good could happen.

These defeatist inner monologues are dangerous because the parental anxiety it arouses in me directly impacts my children.

Maybe they’d be signed up for dance, gymnastics or a team sport if I wasn’t so fearful of all the potential pitfalls.

What if the lessons they are missing out on about navigating the complex social dynamics of a team could allow them to be an effective leader when they’re older?

What if my parental anxiety keeps them from falling in love with the pursuit that could define their future?

The amount of untold damage my fears and worries could inflict upon my children is staggering. While I grudgingly accept I’ll likely screw them up somehow, I’d really love to not infect them with this oppressive mind virus that has haunted my entire existence.

Just go do it

If you’re not resonating with the above struggles, then use my words to help you see the silent struggles of many. If you resonate with my words, if this post about parental anxiety is giving you anxiety, then we are kindred spirits, and perhaps, with one sentence, I can help.

Just go do it. Whatever IT is, just go do it.

Listen, if that sentence came from someone who hasn’t been professionally diagnosed with chronic and crippling anxiety, you’d be right to reject it. The mantra of the ignorant is often to simplify the complex. But I have, so I’m offering you something different.

With that simple sentence above, I’m providing you the freedom you’ve craved, and a lifeline for your kids, who, whether able to articulate it or not, are desperate to experience more – more of everything.

The hard part about navigating complex mental health issues is that the solutions are often simple. So simple, they’re rejected. But just because a solution is simple doesn’t mean it’s easy. I know it’s hard to go do the thing. It was hard for me to admit I needed help. Hard for me to confess these feelings to my wife, and harder still to walk through the door of a licensed therapist for the first time. I just had to do it.

I’m not diminishing the effort. I’m not trying to make it sound easy. It’s not. But as dads, we have no choice. We have to go do it – whatever the “it” is for you. There’s no magic mantra. No special utterance. Appropriate pharmaceuticals are helpful for some, but they aren’t cures. They’re aids. You, yes you, have to do the work. You just have to go do it.

I’d like to say that over time my pessimism has been cured, but it hasn’t. I’ve accepted there is no cure for all this parental anxiety, but you know what? Things have gotten easier. It’s easier to get out of the door, to say yes to my kids when they want to try something. It’s easier to go to the zoo, and even easier to believe my children will return home safe after school. And as I overcome more and more obstacles, I get closer to believing tomorrow will be easier than yesterday.

Just kidding. I’m still pessimistic, and it’s all still hard. But I’m just going to go do it anyway, and so should you.

Photo: © PoppyPix / Adobe Stock.

I’ll be spending this Thanksgiving alone this year. I just got my first full-time job in four years. And unfortunately, I have to work on Thanksgiving this year while my wife is going to see her family in Minnesota. Yes, it sucks for all of the obvious reasons. But it’s also something I’m secretly looking forward to (well, not so secretly since this is on the internet).

Why Thanksgiving alone sucks

No family. I won’t be around the people I’m thankful for. I can’t relive my favorite memories with relatives and create new ones. I won’t be able to meet new relatives. And I won’t be able to gossip about my least favorite relatives with my most favorite ones.

No coma-inducing amount of food. This is the worst part. No sweet potato pie. No stuffing. No mac and cheese.

Why I’m looking forward to it

No family. As in no family drama. Bummer.

No traveling. Usually, the holiday season for my family includes at least 12 hours or more of travel for us. We’re either driving 12 hours one way to North Carolina or six hours one way to Minnesota. Then once we get to our destination we’re driving at least another four or five hours to see more friends and family around the state. This holiday season, I’m pumped to be stationary.

I’m excited about eating less food. I usually end Thanksgiving weekend looking more like a stuffed turkey than the one I ate. There’s so much food, and it usually all looks and tastes amazing. And because I’m not particularly eager to waste food I end up eating way more than I should. So this Thanksgiving alone, I’ll probably cook one of my favorite meals (pretty much anything deep-fried) and be content without the extra calories and leftovers.

Quiet time. It will definitely suck to be home alone on a holiday. But as active dads, alone time is something that we rarely see. And when we do, it’s usually while we’re cleaning, cutting the grass, or fixing something around the house. Even after the kids go to sleep we’re usually exhausted and only have a couple of hours before it’s time for bed. So what I’m looking forward to more than anything is the day or two that I’ll have some quiet free time to myself. It’s really hard to see the picture from inside the frame. So instead of getting annoyed with my wife and son after 12 hours of being in the car with them, I’ll be at home reflecting on how much I’m grateful to have them in my life.

Photo: © WONG SZE FEI / Adobe Stock.

The CEO of my former employer loved the word “hubris.” He’d warn against it in grand speeches designed to keep us hungry, innovative and humble. He said avoiding it would ensure we remained client-focused in the face of tremendous success and a steady stream of critical acclaim.

People loved our company but, instead of embracing that love, he challenged us to keep the affection and admiration of others an arm’s length away. His thinking: once you start believing you are great, you’ll focus less on the small details that made you great in the eyes of others. And then — poof — you will no longer be great. He’s not wrong.

Despite my prep school education, I was unfamiliar with the word back then but took to it quickly. Hubris seemed a kissing cousin of “complacency,” an attitude I knew well to avoid. Still, I wouldn’t dare slip “hubris” into casual conversations. It’s a tough word to ram into everyday sentences: “I’ll take a hubris small caramel vanilla steamer hubris and a pumpkin muffin hubris hubris hubris.” See?

Plus, lots of people already think I’m an elitist douche. No need to add another log to that fire.

I believe I’m a pretty good dad. I say that with as little hubris as possible because if they drilled it into me at work for nearly a decade: hungry, innovative, humble, and focused on serving my clients. Got it, boss.

New job, old focus to halt parenting hubris

Long gone is that office full of HR reps and the tens of thousands of 401(k) contributing employees at FedEx. In fact, my client base has shrunk dramatically since choosing the at-home dad life, down to two to be precise. But I’ve stayed hungry, innovative, humble and focused. Maybe at times to the extreme and that’s been exhausting. Now though, after 13 years in this job known as fatherhood, the best job ever, I’ve actively decided to care less about the stuff happening on the sidelines and in the stands so I can stay present on the field of play. (Whoa, who ordered the sports metaphor?)

I still pepper my internal monologue with these kinds of questions:

• Did I check her phone for new apps, photos?
• When was the last time I asked about her friends and their conversations?
• Has she had fruit today? A veggie?
• Does she get enough time outside?
• When was the last time she showered?
• Why was there only one pair of underwear in the laundry but four different outfits? Eewww.
• Is she being bullied?
• Or pressured into things at school? Through text?
• Am I bullying her?
• Did she practice her instrument?
• She is growing up privileged, it’s true, but is she becoming entitled?
• Seriously, why the hell was there only one pair of her underwear in the laundry?

I suffer through a daily parade of these questions because it’s important for me to never start assuming I’ve raised perfect kids. They are pretty freaking great but hubris hubris hubris. I need to stay focused and believe, because it is true, that there’s a lot of work and foundation building still to be completed. My clients still need me to stay hungry, innovative, humble and focused.

Avoiding the TP trap 

What I no longer fret about is the roll of toilet paper perpetually left on top of the toilet paper holder that’s bolted into the wall. I’d constantly nag my wife and daughters about putting in the extra 2.5 seconds and minimal muscular effort required to install the new roll properly (or at all) but they constantly wouldn’t, and it would make me steamy as I put in the 2.5 seconds and minimal muscular effort.

I don’t nag them or even put the TP on myself anymore. The TP just sits there, a tiny white 2-ply prince upon his thrown. This might seem terribly small, and it totally is, I’ll admit that, but it is one less stupid, otherwise meaningless thing to get annoyed about during the course of my life. And that, my friends, is not a small thing at all.

Not letting the uninstalled toilet paper roll piss me off makes me a better dad because now I can focus a little bit more on the underwear thing and the phone thing and the instrument, shower, fruits and veggies, outdoor time, bullying, and maybe, on myself a little more too.

I like to think my old boss would be proud of my lack of hubris. He’d like my drive to stay hungry, innovative, humble and focused on raising two great clients, I mean daughters. Raising two great daughters.

Photo: © Feng Yu / Adobe Stock.

Relax.

Why is it so hard for me?

Admittedly, I’m a workaholic, but it’s impossible to be at one’s peak without some relaxation.

Relax.

I hear the term, and wonder if I’m supposed to fly back to Los Angeles International Airport. No, that would be re-LAX, not RELAX.

Relax.

I work three jobs. I’m a full-time at-home dad. That takes most of my energy. I’ve been doing the gig for nearly six years. Never had a night away from the kids. It’s a 24/7 job, and it really is the best. I’m also an author. I’ve written 20 books in those six years, seven of which are now on submission through my agent. But that’s not enough. I also write freelance articles and do content writing work.

My idea of relaxing is doing more work.

Then there’s my wife. She works three jobs, too. Full-time fundraiser, online business store owner/manager, and — of course — world’s best mom.

Damn, just writing all this makes me realize maybe we both need to relax.

A trip is not necessarily a vacation

We have a regular babysitter. That helps. Although, I admit, we spend a fair bit of that babysitter time working our other jobs. Sigh.

Last spring, we knew it was time for a break. We packed the kids in the car and drove from Delaware through Virginia. Then down to Virginia Beach, over to Great Wolf Lodge in Williamsburg, and then across to Chincoteague Island. Perfect family trip. It was an absolute delight. Zoos, aquariums, adventures every day.

It was wonderful.

It was exhausting.

We learned, after that, that “family trip” does not mean “family vacation.” In fact, the one thing we needed most had not happened at all. Not once on our amazing adventure –from my filling Easter baskets on a beach bench by moonlight to the long drives through farmland — did we relax. We had an amazing time, but we wondered how we could get that break we so desperately craved.

We asked for help from a travel agent. It turns out there are some places with childcare. Not only childcare but fun, camp-style childcare. We ended up booking a vacation at a Club Med in Florida. Billed as one of the only all-inclusive family resorts in America, it was a place that offered a fun experience for the kids and a break for the parents.

Relax regardless of the accommodations

I won’t lie. The resort should have been called Club Meh. The place was falling apart, from the rooms to the overall facilities. And yet, we’d go back. Why?

The kids’ clubs were amazing. My children, ages 3 and 6, had the times of their lives. When we gave them the option to spend the day with us or go to the kids’ clubs, they chose the clubs. They made friends, sang and danced onstage, swam in the pools, made pizzas, interacted with “pirates” in a full-resort treasure hunt, and even tried the trapeze.

And in those moments, my wife and I sat on the riverbank, surrounded by palm trees, enjoying gourmet cuisine. In silence.

No screams or fights. No thrown food. Not even a demand for ice cream.

We toasted wine glasses and thought about nothing. Nothing at all. A blank mind, deep breaths, and quiet.

My wife once told me relaxation is a sense close to boredom. It’s the moments when you do nothing, think about nothing, and worry about nothing. Some find it in video games or working out or taking long walks. However you relax, it’s important not just for your health, but for your family as well.

We returned from this vacation feeling rejuvenated. And we pledged to relax a bit more. We still work three jobs each. We are still a pair of workaholics. Yet, we’re recognizing that the key to everything, from happy kids to successful careers, really is relaxation.

Take a moment, and think about how you relax. Do you take any time for yourself? It’s OK to take a break.

No, not OK.

Necessary.

Photo: ©Anna / Adobe Stock.

If you have suicidal thoughts, emotional distress, or a substance-use issue, help is now only a three-digit number away: call or text 988.

The 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline, introduced nationally in mid-July, replaces the 11-digit National Suicide Prevention Lifeline number. Authorities hope the easy-to-remember shortcut — similar to using 911 for medical or public safety emergencies — helps more people reach trained counselors in a moment of need.

More than 1.2 million people attempted to kill themselves in 2020, resulting in nearly 46,000 deaths, according to the most recent statistics from the national Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. This makes suicide the 12th leading cause of death in the United States. The suicide rate among men is nearly four times that of women.

The COVID-19 pandemic contributed significantly to increases in depression and anxiety, especially among teens and young adults in the United States, according to the American Psychological Association. Suicide is now the second-leading cause of death for people ages 10 to 14 and 25 to 34.

City Dads Group has long supported the cause of improving mental-health care among men, especially fathers.

How does 988 work? 

Calls and texts to 988 are routed to a mental health professional at one of the more than 200 crisis centers in the U.S. 988 network. (This hotline can also be reached through a chat feature on the hotline’s website.) Callers are routed to a center closest to their phone number’s area code.

A mobile crisis team of mental-health experts and peer-support counselors will be dispatched if a person needs more help. Mental-health or residential facilities may also be contacted for longer-term care and support.

Unlike 911, no ambulances, police or firefighters will be automatically dispatched to the caller’s location. “The vast majority of those seeking help from the Lifeline do not require any additional interventions at that moment. Currently, fewer than 2% of Lifeline calls require connection to emergency services like 911. … [T]he 988 coordinated response is intended to promote stabilization and care in the least restrictive manner.,” states a government FAQ about the 988 website.

The change to 988 is part of a $282 million federal effort to increase suicide prevention and crisis care work, according to the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services.

EDITOR’S NOTE: For more helpful tips on helping teens handle stress, visit The Center for Parent and Teen Communication’s special Managing Stress section.

Let’s scoreboard what my teenagers have been through in the last couple of years.

Pandemic. Virtual schooling. Dating. About 500 emails from the school telling them they’ve been exposed to COVID. Quarantine. PSATs. Three separate school-wide walkouts to protest slurs. And college recruiters asking them about their future.

Oh, and they get no more snow days. That last one just seems mean.

As an adult, that is enough to stress me out daily. But how about my teenagers? How does a teen today deal with a world that is chaotic, loud and confusing?

How to spot teen stress

When I’m stressed, I get angry and want to confront the source of the stress. When my stress contributes to my anxiety, I write snarky articles blaming the everyone in the world for being giant jerks. I also swear a lot. However, that’s not the way stress and anxiety present in a teen.

Dads are often advised to watch for their teenagers pulling away or getting frustrated. Advice like that makes me think the people who wrote it have never dealt with a teenager. To spot stress in your teen, it requires a bit more work.

“You have to engage,” Dr. Jeffery Bernstein, author of The Stress Survival Guide for Teens and 10 Days to a Less Defiant Child, said in an interview with me. “Create a safe space where they feel comfortable talking to you.” 

For me, that brings up visions of cat cafés and chai tea — both things I’d rather not do. I’m more of a dog person.

But I get what he is saying and have practiced it with my own two teenagers. I’ve ditched the “big fatherly talk” where I sit in a regal Victorian chair and have on a dad sweater. Instead, every day I take some time to engage with my teens on their level.

A safe space for talking, listening, observing

My son loves gaming, so I take the time to play with him. Yes, he mops the floor with me, but the point is that I’m there in his environment. This is where we can talk without any extra pressure. With my 15-year-old daughter, it’s scary movies. That time is devoted to her talking about her life.

Conversations come easy when they have the backdrop of something they like, and it gives me a chance to see if they are more withdrawn than usual. My teenagers are more open, forthcoming and honest in these moments.

Often, a teen under stress will verbalize their thoughts in these environments. They don’t know how to deal with the stressors in their lives or that they could even use help. When I am engaged in my kids’ spaces, it opens up those lines of communication. This is what Dr. Bernstein means by creating a safe space.

It’s not just one Ward Cleaver type of moment, but a series of small interactions during the month that last anywhere from 10 minutes to two hours. It’s there that I can help them verbalize rather than to internalize. I like that phrase enough that I’m going to turn it into a bumper sticker now.

Let’s talk coping strategies

Once I know they are stressed, that’s where I struggle as a father. Instinctively, I want to fight their battles.

“Don’t come into it with a fix-it mindset. Lead with empathy,” Bernstein said. “And then use modeling to show them how to cope.”

We need to empower our kids and teach them problem-solving and coping skills. That begins with you. Don’t fight their battles, let them figure out the solution with your guidance. Point them in the right direction of a solution and let them arrive there through their efforts. This will give them ownership of the skill. That ownership will stick with them longer than a lecture.

Sometimes that means that I share their anger and stress. That boy broke your heart? He’s a jerk. That test was hard? Oomph, tell me about it. That then allows me to provide them guidance and perspective based on my experiences. For example, if choosing a college is difficult, then I begin planning small steps with them.

We also have to model better with our own behaviors. When I’m stressed, I swear a lot more. That’s not the best example. A better example would be exercise, eating better, and sticking to a sleep schedule — three things parents the world over are terrible at. But it goes further than that basic cliché advice.

Model your stress management to your teen

We need to share with our children when we are stressed and make it relatable. This is where a lot of fathers fail, including me.

We have it in our heads that as dad, we should be indestructible. We want them to see us the same way they did when they were 3: perfect. They don’t need perfect right now. Our teenagers need reality.

That’s not to mean that we dump a series of adult stresses on them. Instead, Dr. Bernstein states that we should take a coaching approach.

I’ll let my daughter and my son know when I have a deadline coming up that makes me stressed. I’ll usually throw in a joke, but I’ll also let them see my actions. I’m proactive in my solutions. I’ll set a time to get the task done, reward myself when it is done, and then make a plan for the next step.

My kids also see me practice mindfulness. I take 20 minutes a day and run through a program on our VR headset. It helps clear my thoughts and focus on the here and now. As I practice these coping strategies, I’ve talked to my kids about why I’m doing them. That’s how I coach them, and they have begun to adopt some of these strategies.

Keep calm and carry on

Finally, we need help controlling our anger. No one can push our buttons like our teenagers.

“Remove your ego out of the conversation. See it as if you’re watching it from above. Don’t escalate the situation or take it personally,” Bernstein said in our interview.

Easier said than done. But when I speak calmly, I notice my children respond better. And if that’s not working, we all put ourselves into timeout. Timeouts as an adult are awesome.

And if none of the strategies above are working, then it might be time to seek out professional help. Having a third party to talk to may give your teenagers a chance to open up in a way that they can’t with you.

Yes, the world can be a stressful place for adults, and as fathers we need to be aware that our kids share in that stress. Teaching them coping skills is something that they will use for the rest of their life.

And if all else fails, then teach them to swear with the best of them. Don’t put that on me though, I’m stressed enough as it is.

Teen stress photo: ©Rawpixel.com / Adobe Stock.

With standard time returning this past weekend and daylight hours getting shorter for the next six weeks, you may start feeling a bit low or lethargic. If so, you may be experiencing seasonal affective disorder.

Seasonal affective disorder, SAD for short, is a type of depression. It affects 5 to 20 percent of people, most often during fall and winter months and in colder climates. Experts believe lack of sunlight contributes as it affects the body’s internal clock and internal chemistry. Aging and already having depression or a family history of it may increase your likelihood of developing SAD.

Women are diagnosed far more frequently than men with seasonal affective disorder. However, that may be misleading. Men are often less likely to report feelings of depression because of the stigma attached to mental health issues. Symptoms may often be downplayed or expressed through anger and irritation rather than crying and sadness. Substance abuse can also result.

Other symptoms include:

• Feeling depressed, daily and for long periods
• Lacking energy
• Trouble sleeping
• Trouble concentrating
• Appetite changes, especially an increased craving for “comfort foods,” and weight gain
• Frequent mood swings from high to low
• Feeling helpless, worried and guilty often without cause
• Decline in interest in things usually enjoyed
• Withdrawal from social activities

How to fight seasonal affective disorder

If you suspect you or a loved one may be experiencing SAD, the first step is to consult a healthcare professional for diagnosis and treatment. Recommendations often include light therapy, or phototherapy, to increase exposure to natural or artificial sunlight, such as:

• Altering your schedule so you get up earlier to take more advantage of the early daylight hours for exercise or activity.
• Taking a walk during lunch, especially on sunny days.
• Opening blinds and shades to let more light into your home.
• Moving your workspace near a window.
• Use a light box. The Yale School of Medicine recommends several large and small types.

Exercise or getting involved in a hobby or activity, especially an outdoor one, also helps fight the feelings of lethargy. In more severe cases, counseling or the use of antidepressants may also be prescribed.

Seasonal affective disorder in men photo: ©roooaar.de /  Adobe Stock.