Men — it’s time again to grow a mustache for your fellow man’s health: Movember 2024 has arrived!

City Dads Group and Fathering Together are joining forces with two other fatherhood organizations in November 2024 to form a “No Dad Alone” team to participate in Movember, a fund- and awareness-raising campaign to spark conversations about men’s physical and mental health issues.

Movember challenges dudes every November to grow a mustache that will serve as a living awareness ribbon and talking point for the cause. The funds raised during the campaign go for research into and public education on issues such as testicular cancer, prostate cancer, mental health and suicide.

The event is annually run by The Movember Foundation, a leading global organization that brings awareness to serious health concerns for men. It has raised hundreds of millions of dollars since its founding in 2003 to help fund hundreds of health projects globally, according to its website. The organization’s work hopes to counter some of these frightening statistics regarding men’s health:

• Testicular cancer is the most common cancer diagnosed in men ages 18 to 39.
• Men, on average, die five years earlier than women in the United States.
• One in eight men will be diagnosed with prostate cancer during their lives.
• Four of every five suicides are men.

* Join our Movember 2024 #NoDadsAlone team! *

Movember 2024 finds City Dads and its partner, Fathering Together, teaming with The National At-Home Dad Network and Fathers Eve. In June, the groups agreed to join forces as part of a “No Dad Alone” campaign to amplify each other’s messages to help fathers recognize they have help and support in their parenting work.

City Dads has teamed with fatherhood organizations for Movember since 2011, helping to raise more than $135,000 for the cause.

You can help our Movember 2024 team and the cause in several ways:

• Join our Movember City Dads/Fathering Together team. Sign up at our fundraising page. You’ll get a personal fundraising page to link others to.
• Grow a mustache. Shave your face on Oct. 31 and then don’t cut the fuzz off your upper lip for 31 days. Show it off to all, in person and on social media, and tell them why you are growing it. Don’t forget to ask for a donation to help the cause and link to your fundraising page.
• Move rather than mo. Sometimes you can’t grow a mustache. Maybe it’s genetics, maybe it’s because it would jeopardize your marriage. You can still help by committing to walk or run 60 miles in November — one mile for each of the 60 men lost worldwide every hour to suicide. Again, use your personal Movember Dads page for fundraising.
• Host a Mo-ment. Get with your Movember supporters — in person or virtually — for a game night, a sporting event or maybe an initial “shave off” to get the ball rolling and draw attention to the cause.
• Donate. At the least, you can always simply give to the cause. Donate to an individual or our Movember #NoDadsAlone team as a whole.

+ + +

This blog post is part of the #NoDadAlone campaign. Fathering Together/City Dads Group, the National At-Home Dad Network, and Fathers Eve are joining forces to amplify messages that help dads recognize we are not alone! Follow #NoDadAlone on Instagram, and learn more at NoDadAlone.com.

Editor’s Note: Jason Greene is a long-time member of the NYC Dads Group and contributor to this blog and its predecessor. In recognition of his many years with our group and given his family history, we’ve agreed to publicize his fundraising quest for the Alzheimer’s Association.

I entered my great-grandmother’s room to see her frail body sitting by the window. Her glassy eyes stared at a nearby tree. My dad walked over to her and called her name, waking her from her daze. She smiled at my father.

“I know I’m supposed to know you,” she said.

He ran down who he was and who was with him as she nodded politely.

Alzheimer’s disease has plagued my family for generations. And I’m not alone. More than 6 million people in the United States suffer from Alzheimer’s. If something does not change, that number is estimated to grow to 13 million by 2050. Studies show that those with a family member with Alzheimer’s have an increase of 30% to get the disease.

Anyone who loves someone with Alzheimer’s knows the cruelty of the disease. It robs you of everything — your memory, your ability to think clearly and perform even routine activities. My earliest memories of my great-grandmother are of a strong woman working on a farm. My last memories of her are painful. Unfortunately, these final years of her life are what I remember the most.

Dads want what’s best for their children. Most of us work to squash generational trauma, anger issues, self-loathing or myriad other obstacles that rise deep within our chests; however, medical conditions are one thing we only have limited ability to control. No one wants to pass on that kind of legacy. That is why I decided to run the New York City Marathon on Nov. 3 to benefit the Alzheimer’s Association.

I turn 50 this year and I wanted to do something big to celebrate. I have a friend, Patrick, who has run the NYC Marathon for the Alzheimer’s Association and he put me in touch with the organizers. A few clicks later, I was on the team and began my training.

During my training, I’ve encountered a lot of obstacles — plantar fasciitis, Achilles tendonitis, blisters, back pain and lots of chafing just to name a few. I’ve also been challenged by simply being a dad in a busy family. I’ve had to find time to fit in training while juggling my kids’ hectic schedules, cooking meals and overall exhaustion. Getting out the door is hard enough even without facing physical challenges.

On those days when I want to give up during my runs or I don’t feel like running at all, I remember the why. I’m not running just for my health, but for the hope that one day families will not endure the pain of watching a loved one fade away.

Donate to help fight Alzheimer’s disease

You can support Jason and his cause to find ways to prevent, treat and cure Alzheimer’s disease by donating to his fundraising page.

+ + +

This blog post is part of the #NoDadAlone campaign. Fathering Together/City Dads Group, the National At-Home Dad Network, and Fathers Eve are joining forces to amplify messages that help dads recognize we are not alone! Follow #NoDadAlone on Instagram, and learn more at NoDadAlone.com.

Alzheimer’s woman photo by Mario Heller on Unsplash.

Editor’s Note: September is ​Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) Awareness Month, designed to honor families who have used these medical facilities and the health professionals who care for them.

My son starts preschool today.

It doesn’t seem like that long ago when I was sitting in the NICU snuggling his entire tiny body on my chest.

My son was a preemie, born at 34 weeks. Those were some long and tough days for us. My wife felt guilty but it certainly wasn’t her fault. She had a normal, healthy pregnancy. We don’t know why he came early and we’ll probably never know. But it happened and we dealt with it.

He was being held in NICU because his lungs were not fully developed just yet. He was hooked up to all kinds of machines … feeding tube through his nose for a bit, a heart monitor and more. I will never forget the alarming sound the monitor would make when his heart rate dropped, and the doctors and nurses came rushing in. They called it a “bradycardia,” or abnormally slow heart action, and it was one of the scariest moments for us.

During our daily rounds with the doctors, they told us that for him to come home he had to have three straight days without any “bradys or spells,” as they referred to them. We would call each morning, crossing our fingers, to see how he did overnight. Then we would pack our lunch, grab coffee and fight traffic each day while heading to the hospital to spend a few hours with him. It was a strange feeling to come home each night and not have our newborn son with us. My wife was in tears at times because we didn’t know how long he would be in the NICU and she was worried about spending her entire maternity leave in the hospital.

Fortunately, her boss was very supportive and gave her extra time off. There were other dads there and I would see them each day and we’d give each other the nod. We became a club; each waiting for our turn to go home with our child. I know we were fortunate. Our situation could have been much worse. There were some parents there with twins, one of whom got to go home and the other one didn’t. Some babies were there for 3 months or longer. In total, we spent five weeks in the NICU.

Today, my son has caught up and except for a slight speech delay, he has met all of his milestones. He is now a tall, active and healthy 3-year-old who loves fire trucks, Paw Patrol and pancakes.

So, it’s an exciting day and I’m a happy dad. My once tiny NICU baby is going to meet his new teachers and make new friends. He’s going to laugh and learn and play and he’ll have a big smile on his face … and so will I.

My son starts preschool today!

About the author

Lou Marino, shown with his wife and two children, is a member of our Boston/Providence Dads Group.

Photos: Contributed by the Marino family

+ + +

This post, which first appeared in 2018, is part of the #NoDadAlone campaign. Fathering Together/City Dads Group, the National At-Home Dad Network, and Fathers Eve are joining forces to amplify messages that help dads recognize we are not alone! Follow #NoDadAlone on Instagram, and learn more at NoDadAlone.com.

“It moved,” muttered George Costanza, the contemptible yet lovable Seinfeld character, in terror. He had been receiving a full-body massage from an objectively attractive male masseuse, and, well, “it” moved.

I suspect I don’t have to spell this one out. If you grew up with “it” between your legs, you know it has a mind of its own. It does what it wants when it wants and, for the most part, we are passengers on the “please no one notice” train.

The Seinfeld episode in question first aired in 1991. I would’ve been around 11 or so. This is a prime age for uncontrollable and inexplicable, ummmm, swellings. Around that time, I would’ve been begging dear sweet baby Jesus to protect me from the Devil’s hormones raging in my body. The all-too-tight khakis I had been forced to wear at church offered no protection. I was exposed. I could do my best Ron Burgundy “It’s the pleats” defense, but I had no pleats. Only a snug, flat fabric stretched across my crotch, waiting to advertise an untimely pitched tent.

Self-care or snake oil?

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been awkward about being touched, and since this Seinfeld episode, I have genuinely had a fear of massages. I feel compelled to report it had nothing to do with men or my sexuality, but it heightened my fear of accidental bulges – regardless of who or what may have been the cause. Now you understand why “it moved” has been a terrifying mantra bouncing in my brain for 30-plus years.

And so, at the age of 44, I finally had my first massage.

I tend to reject what’s new and popular. The self-care industry has become so full of snake oil and nonsensical claims, I barely pay attention. There’s an infinite supply of influencers and hucksters eager to prey upon our desperate desire to feel better. Through smiling, beautiful faces, they claim to care about us, when it mostly seems they only care about separating us from our money. Sadly, the preponderance of profit-obsessed businesses and products has made it hard to find the real people, the genuine healers, who truly devote themselves to helping others. This cacophony of profiteering has made it hard for me to believe there’s any value in taking care of myself. I’m a stay-at-home dad. My full-time job is caring for three (sometimes four) kids. Taking care of myself is low on my list of priorities.

After my hour-long massage, I’m questioning the ranking of my priorities.

Feeling bad normally is not normal

Let’s address the first fear: Did it move?

Yep. Sure did.

A man didn’t give me my massage, but that was never my fear. I was worried about making things awkward and weird because I’m awkward and weird – which is exhausting, by the way. But, although blood was certainly flowing, and I did feel pretty dang good, nothing untoward happened. In the words of Costanza, “I think it moved. I don’t know. … It was imperceptible, but I felt it. … It wasn’t a shift. I’ve shifted. This was a move!”

My face was covered by a towel. In the background, there was meditative music. I was doing guided breathwork. Periodically a deep breath would be filled with some exotic aroma. All the hippy woo-woo shit the old me would mock.

The new me? I’m weary of being afraid of everything. I’m tired of being the frowning skeptic closed off from everything and everyone. “No one touch me. No one hug me. Respect my giant, ‘Merica-sized bubble, dammit!” I’ve always confused intimacy and sensuality with sexuality, and it’s a shame our society seeks to continue this confusion. Feeling good isn’t bad, but we’ve all felt so bad for so long that we’ve convinced ourselves it’s normal.

As fathers, how has all that impacted our children?

Massage your parenting message

I don’t know about you fellow dads, but I don’t want my kids to feel bad. Ever. About anything. OK, maybe sometimes, like when I recently found tiny particles of “window crayons,” all over the house, but in general, I want my kids to feel great. Great about themselves. About their bodies. About feeling great. Why would I want anything else?

How can I make them feel great if my body is falling apart? How can I create a happy home if I’m tense, grumpy and in pain from being tense and grumpy? I want to be a better human so I can be the best dad I can be. I’m no longer going to reject some of the tools in the cosmic toolbox. [*Giggles* — tool!]

I’m not saying we all need to put on our tinfoil hats and stop getting measles vaccines. We should absolutely trust doctors and experts when appropriate, but they don’t deserve our blind allegiance – no ideology does. There’s a whole world of possibilities, and the only way to know what works, sometimes, is to give it a try. Imagine our hypocrisy when we frustratingly stare at a plate full of uneaten food we encouraged our kids to try while knowing we’ve rejected alternate solutions to our own problems because we didn’t have the courage to try.

While on the massage table, I felt transported into another realm. My recently departed mother and brother were there. They were laughing at me. It was ludicrous some silly episode of a 30-year-old show had isolated me from my fellow humans. They told me the only person standing between me and everything I ever wanted was me, “It’s me. Hi. I’m the problem. It’s me.” They were right. And I think I realized I’m also standing between my kids and everything they may want, and I desperately don’t want to be that guy.

Be better today than you were yesterday

Did I REALLY travel to alternate dimensions? I hope so, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is whether I’m willing to be better today than I was yesterday. While I can’t pretend I’ll always be willing to make my physical and mental health a priority, viewing self-care as a service to my wife and kids puts a whole new spin on it.

So get a massage.

Go for a run.

Lift some weights.

Sprinkle some rosewater on your pillowcase.

Mediate and get a little dizzy trying to figure out some complex breathing technique.

Go stretch in a hot room and try not to fart.

Give it a try. It just might work.

If it doesn’t work, that’s OK too. At least you tried, and it’s probably your kid’s fault, anyway. It’s always the kid’s fault.              

Author’s note: During the writing of this piece, “it” did NOT move.

+ + +

This blog post is part of the #NoDadAlone campaign. Fathering Together/City Dads Group, the National At-Home Dad Network, and Fathers Eve are joining forces to amplify messages that help dads recognize we are not alone! Follow #NoDadAlone on Instagram, and learn more at NoDadAlone.com.

Massage photo by Pixabay via Pexels.

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.

People often ask me about the big age gap between my second and third child. The five-and-a-half-year difference makes people wonder why we began our journey through babyhood once again. When asked, I usually smile and say simply, “The timing was right.”

The truth is there wasn’t supposed to be such a big gap. Several miscarriages lead to the huge age difference.

How it started

One morning, the rain poured outside as I walked down the stairs into the basement. A good foot of water welcomed me. As I stepped into it, I realized it wasn’t just water. Our sewer line had backed up into the basement. Our upstairs neighbor called a plumber, but they couldn’t come until late that evening. So from 9 a.m. until then, I carried buckets of sewage out our backdoor and dumped it into our backyard. I yelled and even cried with exhaustion as I fought a losing battle with the rising water.

Then my wife walked into the basement. She hugged my sweaty, tired body, and said, “We’re going to have another baby.”

Suddenly, I didn’t care about the basement anymore; I just wanted to hug my wife. We smiled and kissed. She asked if I was happy and, with raw sewage dripping from my pants and shoes, I said I was. Very happy.

Unfortunately, I never got the opportunity to meet the source of the happiness. We had a miscarriage. It turned out to be the first of several.

‘The silence was backbreaking‘

My wife told me she was miscarrying as she laid on our bed. My stomach dropped. I felt like thousands of pounds were upon my back. It was still morning, so I got the kids dressed, fed, and off to school. I returned to my wife, who was still in the same position. I didn’t say anything and neither did she. We just occupied the same room for a little while. She didn’t want to talk and I’m not sure if I wanted her to. But the silence was backbreaking.

I think I muttered a few words. She may have muttered something back. Nothing real was said. Just murmurings. I wanted to comfort her, but I couldn’t.

Deep inside, I wanted to be comforted, too. But I couldn’t be and I couldn’t ask anyone to. She took a little nap and I left the room. I sat down on the couch with my hands covering my face and wept.

In the days and weeks that followed, we didn’t talk that much about it.

I think we both wanted to forget and, by not talking about it, we thought we could. We hadn’t told anyone about the pregnancy yet so nobody knew. There was nobody to give that sympathetic look. There was nobody for us to talk to. We were alone in our sorrow and we weren’t necessarily talking about it together. So I stuffed it into that place in a man’s soul where things are stored and never let out again.

My wife told me a few months later that she was pregnant again. But, only a few weeks later, that too ended in miscarriage. Two miscarriages in less than six months.

Putting up my guard

When my wife told me that we were expecting once again, I put up a guard. As the baby grew inside my wife, I refused to let myself get too attached. I didn’t want the ultimate disappointment to happen again. I’d go along with my wife for check-ups and ultrasounds, but I continued to wait for and expect bad news. When she was pregnant with our other children, I would stare at the ultrasound pictures and dream of their future in wonder. This time, I barely looked. Every day I battled to put on the face of the supportive husband, but inside I just couldn’t let myself get close.

When our baby entered the world, I finally exhaled. Everything that built up inside of me over the years had been released. There was a beautiful and perfect little boy in my arms and I once again felt joy. The barrier of speaking to my wife about the past miscarriages was gone. And we finally felt like we could talk about the experience with other people.

There are days though that I still can’t help but wonder what it would be like to have four or five children, instead of three. I always wanted a lot of kids and dreamed of a house filled with beautiful family chaos. Time has not been kind to my body and the days of hoisting babies into the air are coming to an end. To say that I’m completely over the miscarriages would be very wrong. I’m not over it and probably never will be.

I’ve talked to a few guys since then and it seems that we all feel the same way. We want to be there for the women in our lives and give encouragement and comfort. To try and make our partners feel better. But inside, we’re breaking.

I’ve also seen what miscarriages can do to women. Not only my wife but other women I’ve known. It’s terrible and difficult to talk about. My heart goes out to any woman who suffers through one. And my heart goes out to their men who aren’t sure how to talk about it, aren’t sure how to relate the feelings of great loss when they barely had anything to begin with.

When dealing with tragedies in life, most of us try to find some closure. When someone near to us dies, we talk about the life they lived and what they meant to us. The moment is heartbreaking and we never fully get over the loss. With miscarriages, closure is hard to find. A beautiful promise was there and now it isn’t. Your hopes were high and then … nothing. For the man, we can only observe the physical and emotional pains of the loss of the woman. Helplessly watch.

I’m not sure what my point in writing this piece was. Maybe I wrote this for my cathartic process. Or maybe I was hoping to have men start a dialogue about this issue. Maybe it was to let others know that nobody is alone when it comes to a miscarriage and there is no shame in it. It isn’t anyone’s fault and a miscarriage is just one of life’s many tragedies.

A version of this was first published here and on One Good Dad in 2013, and has since been updated. Photo by MART PRODUCTION via Pexels.

Our daughter was born two weeks late. I remember going into the hospital nursery and thinking she looked more developed than most of the babies. That’s when I concluded that this meant she would hit all her infant milestones and first-year benchmarks quicker than the rest.

I often think back on a story my dad told me from his childhood. My grandmother insisted that he was potty trained at 3 months old. When asked why, my grandmother said she would look in his crib, and, if his eyes were watery, she knew he had to go to the bathroom. A silly story, of course, but it only reveals to me how we convince ourselves how special our kids are for the “normal” things that they do.

But are children smarter because they talk earlier? Will they be more adventurous and dexterous because they walk earlier? Will they have a more developed and discerning palate if they eat earlier? If we read to them earlier will they read sooner? These questions can go on and on, but I can say that by pondering these issues too much we put undue pressure on both ourselves and on our daughter.

Infant milestones: Helpful or hurtful?

Our daughter missed some of the so-called earlier first-year benchmarks that she should have hit and those so-called failures fed into our neuroses. We questioned whether we were doing anything wrong or if there was anything wrong with our daughter.

Our doctor assured us that infant developmental milestones and benchmarks were only a guide. However, in a competitive world of “whose child was more mature and more advanced,” we were left wanting. We created a self-induced paranoia that got us worried that there was something wrong with our daughter. Were we to blame? There needed to be a reason. 

I remember when I was finally assured that to keep my sanity I should ignore those infant developmental milestones and other benchmarks. We just needed to do what we could to encourage our daughter no matter where she was in the growth process. This finally hit home at one of the dance/music/movement classes we had enrolled our daughter in.

We liked the class leader because of her ability to not only encourage and enhance the life of our daughter but also to be approachable to us as parents when questions arose. I remember the day of my “approach” like it was yesterday. Concerned our daughter was lagging because she wasn’t crawling, I went to her after class. I told her my concerns and she gave me a simple answer. She told me that when our daughter was ready to walk, talk, sing, or in our case crawl then she would do it. We should allow ourselves the peace of mind to know that our daughter would do everything at her own speed and when she was ready.

Guides, not absolutes

Sure enough, she was right. 

We continue to recognize this idea while attempting to potty train our daughter. We realized she understands the idea of going to the potty and will occasionally go; however, she just isn’t ready yet. She will tell us when that time arrives. 

I believe infant benchmarks are certainly important as guides, but that is only how we should use them. There are definite warning signs of developmental delay to be aware of. However, it is generally recommended to avoid hitting the panic button until your infant is missing milestones by several weeks. Then you should talk to your doctor.

Today, we have a child who through love and encouragement is where she is supposed to be right now. When we put pressure on ourselves to follow those benchmarks as the rule of law, disappointment and doubts in our ability as parents were too often the result. There was so much more nuance to raising our daughter. Instead of paying attention to where she should be, we need to just enjoy her for who and where she was at every “benchmark” age. 

Take it from a convert. Save yourself the anguish and enjoy your children as they are.  The mood swings and tantrums of an almost 3-year-old will make you long for the days when they couldn’t crawl, roll over, or talk. 

About the author

Matthew Pasher is a part-time stay-at-home dad. He’s an avid reader, and a Liverpool fanatic who can make a mean mac and cheese from scratch when asked.

This article first ran in 2012 and has since been updated.

In one of the many memorable scenes in John Hughes’ movie Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Ferris, his girlfriend Sloane, and best friend Cameron join a group of young children looking at the masterpieces in the Art Institute of Chicago. At one point, the very melancholy and anxious Cameron becomes captivated by Georges Seurat’s “A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte.” 

The more he stares at the painting, the more the little girl at the center of the piece seems to stare back at him. Cameron zooms in on her to the point where she soon becomes a bunch of undefined splotches of paint. Maybe, in this moment, Cameron sees himself: a muddle of paint with no real beginning or end. Maybe he isn’t sure what he is looking at. Perhaps he’s lost in his thoughts about where he is in life and what his life will become.

I think we have all had encounters like this in a museum with a particular piece. This happened to me recently when our family visited the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York City to view an amazing gallery by Henry Taylor, a black California-based artist known for portraits depicting a variety of scenes from black life using mixed media.

One piece that caught my eye was Screaming Head. It is an acrylic painting of a black man sitting on a bench. His hands are clenched behind his head but somehow he is screaming out of the top of his head. Like his brain is screaming out because his mouth cannot. Or maybe this particular man feels like crying out but doesn’t want to because social norms dictate he has to be strong and keep it bottled up inside. Maybe he doesn’t have the freedom to say what is really on his mind. It felt like it was speaking to me.

I believe men often suffer in silence when it comes to issues we face. We want to stick to the old-school machismo: men don’t cry, men don’t complain, men aren’t supposed to be anything that makes us less of a man. We aren’t often given room to just scream out when facing any number of obstacles life throws our way. Not having that release valve can often lead to tragic results.  

But I believe we need room to scream. 

Men need room to cry. 

We also need a shoulder to lean on when life seems overwhelming. 

If we can be allowed to release our frustration and anger in a constructive and healthy way, we can be better men, fathers, brothers and leaders.

But how?

It means taking time for self-care. Like going to a movie by yourself or spending a few hours on a hobby. Maybe it’s eating some takeout from your favorite fast-food restaurant in your car without having to share your fries. Or maybe, it’s asking your partner to take the kids to school so you get an extra hour of sleep.

Sometimes just posting anonymously in a Facebook group of other dads who understand your strains and stresses can become your safe space. Letting others know you feel alone helps you realize an important fact: you are not alone. Someone out there is dealing with loss, with bills, with children who don’t want to listen, and so on.   

Whatever your outlet for self-care is, it doesn’t mean abandoning your duties. It means taking a break from them for a little bit to get our heads straight. This is no different from moms giving themselves spa days or a night out with the girls.

As for me, in these last few years, I have transitioned. I’ve become less of a stay-at-home dad by taking on other roles. Being a father isn’t all that defines me anymore. I am also an author, a teacher, a husband, a friend, a son, a son-in-law, a heck of a cook and so much more. 

I am defined, but the definition of me is always changing and I truly believe the same can be said about you.­

You are defined. 

You have depth and emotion. 

You are loved.

Even if you feel like you don’t see it, know that others see it in you.

And never let yourself get to the point of feeling like an undefined muddle of paint splotches on a canvas. And like the Henry Taylor painting, don’t keep your screams bottled up because that can often lead to an explosive result.

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio via Pexels.

Let’s admit it: Most of us hate going to the doctor. In fact, parenting and self-care are often at odds.

This is especially true in the chaotic early years when all parents struggle to find time to use the bathroom in peace much less exercise, see friends, and visit the doctor. Mothers in our culture are frequently reminded to practice self-care, but I’m here to urge increasingly involved fathers to do the same.

Though dads tend to feel less guilty than moms about taking time for themselves, one particular area of self-care we need to improve on is seeing a doctor.

A 2016 Cleveland Clinic survey found only three in five men, ages 18 to 70, get an annual physical. A little more than 40 percent go to the doctor only when they fear they have a serious medical condition. Those are some frightening numbers.

I can speak to the stereotype of men avoiding doctors from personal experience. I was one of those “I hate to go to the doctor” guys, too. But several years ago, I told my wife half-jokingly: “I’m either in the best shape of my life, or I’m dying.” I had finally been working out again, and I was excited to be losing weight. Freshly 40, I had spent nine long years as a stay-at-home dad, so it was thrilling to return to some “me” time.

But then I kept losing weight.

The self-care stumble 

Over three months I lost 15 pounds. Also, I began to notice frequent stomach aches, often followed by diarrhea. I started to worry. Admittedly, as a guy with a hate for going to the doctor, it probably took me longer than the average human to notice these rather dramatic changes.

Then came the kicker.

I was in the yard and bent over to pick up a rake. On my way up, I got dizzy and nearly fell over. Finally, I knew this was more than just “how 40 feels.”

I saw a gastroenterologist who performed a blood test and biopsy before pronouncing the verdict: celiac disease. His nutritionist explained celiac disease is a genetic intolerance of gluten, a protein found in wheat, rye, barley and other related grains. Gluten damages the villi in a celiac’s small intestines, which leads to malnourishment and a variety of symptoms — e.g. diarrhea, weight loss, fatigue, migraines and depression among others. Symptoms can appear anytime during a celiac’s life.

What I remember most was the nutritionist’s statement, “It’s not that bad. Just avoid things like beer, bread and pasta.”

What?

For an Irish boy married to an Italian girl, she just eliminated 80 % of my diet! Immediately, I visualized an atlas of my past culinary pleasures I would never be able to revisit: the Buffalo chicken wing, the Philadelphia cheese steak, the Chicago deep-dish pizza.

Many with celiac disease never get diagnosed

But after researching the disease and the growing dietary options, I realized I was lucky this was my only problem. My good fortune was soon reinforced at my new hangout, the health food store.

When I mentioned I had just been diagnosed with celiac disease, an acquaintance asked, “Oh, does your whole life make sense to you now?” I nearly got dizzy and fell over. What? No, I thought. Now my life makes no sense. My whole life was going just fine!

But I learned she knew people whose lifelong health problems were cured after they were diagnosed with celiac disease. So then I felt grateful for 40 years of reveling in gluten. (Specifically, no beer in college would have been tough to swallow.) So if any unexplained symptoms apply to you, consider asking your doctor about celiac disease since many people go undiagnosed.

Now that I’m gluten-free, I’ve regained a few pounds and feel healthy. It’s also nice to fit back into my pre-stay-at-home dad clothes. However, you know you’ve been a stay-at-home dad too long when you put on a button-down shirt and your daughter asks, “Dad, why are you dressed all fancy?”

After my health scare, I consider such a moment a little reward for going to the doctor.

Editor’s Note: This article about men’s health and the fear of going to the doctor was originally published in 2017. Photo: “Doctor greeting patient” by Vic, licensed under CC BY 2.0)

For many new parents, all of their time is spent simply taking care of the baby. It can be tough figuring out how to find time to work out or exercise. If running is your thing (or was — before having kids), here’s a “how to” guide for getting back into your sport by using a jogging stroller:

Picking a Jogging Stroller

There are many great brands (Jeep, Graco, BabyTrends, Joovy) and types (single, double, fixed wheel) jogging strollers. I suggest that you try out a few before deciding. I use BOB Gear jogging strollers because I found they work best in terms of size, flexibility, and durability for the streets, elevators and small apartments of New York City. Our BOB Gear stroller comes in handy for more than just running with my child. It’s great to take when I bring my daughter grocery shopping or to a museum.

Start Slowly

I started running with my daughter, Lucinda, when she was around 5 months old. The instructions for my BOB Gear jogging stroller advised me not to run with a baby younger than 8 months. You need to use your best judgment. I felt confident trying it as soon as she could sit up without slumping over in the stroller. The first time out we went for about 2.5 miles. The first mile and a half she was fine, but then she got fussy. So we abandoned ship. The second time out was a little better. By the third time, she had gotten used to the stroller and things started to go more smoothly.

Jogging Strollers Help with Naps

After about five short runs in the jogging stroller, she had gotten into the routine of napping really well during my runs. Before I knew it, I couldn’t stop or she would wake up! And as you know or will certainly learn … you should do whatever humanly possible NOT to wake a sleeping baby. The breakthrough came in early June, when she fell deep into a nap and didn’t wake up after the usual 30 minutes. She slept and slept, and before I knew it, I had run almost 2 hours in the middle of the day! Running with ourBOB Gear jogging stroller was a great antidote to short napping. Eventually, we got into a routine of taking most afternoon naps during a jog in the park.

Stopping could end a nap prematurely during the middle months, but I find as she’s getting older, stopping isn’t as detrimental to the nap. My daughter has always been a light sleeper, but if you have a good sleeper it should be fine.

Prepare for Weather

Spring and fall are the best months for the jogging stroller. Always keep in mind that your baby is not getting warmed up from exercise like you are.

If you plan to run in the summer, find a model with a sun shield. This will protect your child from the rays and keep her cooler. Most good brands (BOB Gear, Jeep, Graco, BabyTrends) have jogging strollers with these that are either detachable or foldable. It’s also best to go early or late and avoid the heat in the middle of the day.

In the winter, we’ve been using a weather shield, essentially a plastic enclosure, which keeps the stroller quite toasty and dry. In fact, you should not use the shield unless it’s lower than 60 degrees due to the possibility of overheating. It also protects your child from wind and the elements. I’m not sure how cold will be our cut-off for going out, but below 30 degrees will probably be our limit.

Speed

Don’t expect to be running 7-minute miles with the stroller; it can really slow you down. My running pace is around 11 to 12 minutes with the stroller, and when I’m without the stroller it’s usually more in the 9- to 10-minute range, sometimes faster if I’m racing in a shorter distance. So don’t expect to run fast with the stroller, but do expect to work hard. I think the extra effort you put into running with the stroller, even if you are going at a slower pace, can make your runs without the baby a little faster. Think of it as a type of speed work!

How Much Should I Run with the Stroller?

I train for ultra marathons so running for 90 minutes every day with my baby isn’t such a problem for me. But if you are not an ultra marathoner, at least getting out there for an hour will be great for you and the baby.

Best Jogging Stroller Routes

Living in NYC, we usually head to Central Park or Riverside Park. Hills are tough but add to the fun. Quiet routes are ideal, so try to stay away from construction, heavy traffic, and people wanting to ask how it is to run with the baby. That is my warning, but it’s hard to schedule around those problems.

Bringing the jogging stroller into your and your baby’s life can be fun (a little intimidating initially) and I think it can help you and your baby explore the town, provide fitness, and give your baby a great opportunity for napping. Since my daughter, Lucinda, is turning 1 next week, we will see how this plan works and evolves as she gets older.

About the author

Mat Gerowitz is a stay-at-home dad, ultra runner, and part-time running coach. Mat can be found on what used to be Twitter at @matruns and at ultrarunningstayathomedad.blogspot.com.

This post first ran in 2012 and has since been updated.

BOB Gear, Jeep, Graco, BabyTrends single, double, fixed wheel jogging strollers