A friend of mine from college was in town recently so we got together to catch up. Seeing him again was great because it brought back some great memories and encouraged me about today’s young people.

For the record, I feel I’m 90 years old when I write “today’s young people.” However, in this context it’s true. My friend’s son is in his senior year of high school. My kids are 3 and 5. I don’t feel like an “old” dad but, suddenly, having a good friend talking about his near-adult child made me feel weird.

Having a kid forces you to grow up immediately and become more mature. What would I have done had I become a father in my 20s rather than my mid-30s? I know lots of guys who became dads in their early 20s. It all worked out fine for them. But for me, it seems alien and out of place. Being a dad and, more importantly, being mature enough to parent responsibly is something I couldn’t even fathom until I was in my mid-30s.

My friend and I met for lunch at a fast-food restaurant with one of those attached playground rooms. He marveled that my sons were always by my side. They always wanted to be near me. They’d pop out of the playground room to ask questions, play peek-a-boo and generally be cute.

“One day, they just stop wanting to be with you all the time,” he said. “They get their license, get a group of friends and you’ll see them for dinner. Maybe.”

I peppered him with questions about raising older children. As his son is applying for college, I asked about that process. He was frank about the costs, how much he could cover and how much debt he’d have at the end of four years. It was shocking to realize that the total cost for four years of college for the two of us cost only slightly less than one year of college for his son.

But he also put some of my concerns at ease. Some things had changed for the better since we went to college. For starters, a rising freshman now has an idea of what to expect employment-wise from their proposed major. They know their job possibilities, where those employment opportunities are located and how much they’ll realistically earn after graduation. We never had an idea of how much money it takes to exist, make it, succeed or prosper in the real world. Believe me, had those information fields been filled in for me when I was in college, I would’ve gone after a more stable and profitable profession.

My friend went on to tell me about some of our school friends who now owned small businesses, were chefs, city planners and one who is a high-ranking explosives expert for a large state bureau of investigations. We marveled at how we all ended up in such a diverse arena of employment.

My friend had to start his drive home. He left me feeling that the kids who are going to college today aren’t going in as blind as their parents did back in the day. It was also a great reminder that no matter how annoying, tiring, messy, repetitive and frustrating small children can be; a day will come when I’m not as cool to them as I am now.

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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.

A version of this first appeared on Daddy Mojo and ran here in 2015. It has since been updated. Photo: PublicDomainPictures.net

You know when you’re innocently talking to a child and they open a whole new avenue from where you were planning on going with the conversation? I related it to America’s road system.

Sometimes it’s a simple cul-de-sac. The conversation goes round and round. Other times, it takes a “merging on to the highway” warp-speed jump from innocent to “hold me tightly, I need a moment.” This recent talk with one of my sons about where babies come from combines the two types of streets.

We were on a Georgia highway. My son was talking about some of his friends who were going to or had just returned from Walt Disney World. I reminded him he was there three years ago, but that carried very little street cred to a 5-year-old.

I tried steering the conversation another way.

“You know, Daddy used to work at Walt Disney World,” I said.

“Was Mommy a baby back then?”

For the record, I am older than my wife, but it is nowhere near that kind of age difference.

“No, that was before I met Mommy,” I said.

“Was I a baby then?”

“No …”

“Was Charlie a baby then?”

“No … he …”

“Daddy, where do babies come from,” said the 5-year-old who had just been talking about Mickey Mouse and Goofy.

“Well, when a mommy and daddy love each other very much they’ll have a baby. It’s important to have that because …,” I started to say before he cut me off.

“No, I mean how are they made?”

Is it time for the ‘birds and bees talk’ already?

Well, here is where our ever-expanding cul-de-sac of a conversation veered onto an on-ramp and started to rev up. My son is very detail-oriented, always wanting to know “why” and “how” things happen. I knew what he meant and thought for a moment about how to respond.

“It’s like chemistry,” I clumsily started. “Daddies have a special chemical that they combine with chemicals that mommies have — and that is what makes a baby.” As you can see, my initial foray into sex education went over swimmingly.

Right after I said that last word I knew it sounded odd and inauthentic. In my mind, I thought about telling him about how willies work with girls’ private parts, the pregnancy, doula, placenta, birth canal and epidural. But I was tired, driving and frustrated with myself for stumbling over the initial answer.

I need an off-ramp from this conversation and the closest thing was a golf range.

“Cool, check out that golf range,” I said.

“Daddy, we’ve seen that before. It’s right next to the video game place,” he said with all of the smarm and know-it-all-ness a 5-year-old could muster.

Then he went on to talk about something else.

That topic escapes me. I know that it wasn’t about reproduction. Since that trip, my wife and I have sorted out what he should call his private parts and we planned a basic overview of how to address the “where do babies come from” talk. I certainly didn’t expect to start this conversation when he was 5, though.

A friend of mine had their 6-year-old ask them what sodomy was. He was listening to the news and the child heard a new word he didn’t know. I guess my wife and I should prepare talking points for that possible query another time.

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A version of Where Babies Come From first appeared on Daddy Mojo and then on this blog in 2015. It has since been updated. Photo: ©New Africa / Adobe Stock.

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: We’re digging into our ample archives to find some great articles you might have missed over the years. This one comes from 2016.

Charlie had to go to the doctor recently. He was not at all pleased about the trip. Our 3 1/2-year-old was in pain and arrived there, with his mom and brother, a hot mess.

Bawling on the floor, he cried like he was getting paid in candy for the tears that hit the floor. It was then that his older brother did something incredibly sweet, genuinely helpful and entirely on his own accord.

He walked over and started asking Charlie questions about Phineas and Ferb.

Phineas and Ferb is something the boys and I watch quite often together as it is as entertaining for adults as it is for children.

“Charlie, who do you think is funnier: Buford or Doctor Doofenshmirtz?”

He thought for a moment and said, “Doof.”

“Charlie, who is funnier: Phineas or Doctor Doofenshmirtz?”

He thought for a second. “Doof.”

The two went on talking about Phineas and Ferb until the doctor called them in.

Brothers: Potential best friend, worst rival

Charlie had gone from zero to crazy meltdown at the drop of a hat but was called back from the edge in the same amount of time just by his big brother making conversation with him. It was something a parent couldn’t have done, but his big brother did it with ease and grace.

In my mind’s eye, I thought about the boys being in their 30s. I hope they are the best of friends when they’re adults. Siblings are one thing; brothers — well, that just has a whole different, deeper and more permanent bond, isn’t it?

I imagine brothers opening up businesses together when they’re older, going on crazy adventures in the backyard or camping with other friends. Brothers, that’s a bond that nothing can break. Siblings are cool and do have a bond, but it certainly varies from family to family. I suspect sisters have the same club as brothers, though. It’s the potential best friend and rival that they’ll have all of their life.

It’s possible what happened in the doctor’s office might have been replicated had they just been siblings and not brothers. Had that been the case it would’ve been cute, too. However, in my “guy” (not to mention, parent) mind, there was something even better about it because it was the two brothers figuring something out and fixing it.

My dad has a younger brother. One time my uncle told me that when he was a child, the only thing he wanted was to be more like his big brother. In response, my dad just shirked and mumbled something smarmy. But that brother bond was still there.

A version of this first appeared on Daddy Mojo. Photo: © luengo_ua / Adobe Stock.

Wondering whether bringing kids to comic con is a good idea? Of course, it is!

I took my children to their first “comic con” event when they were 4 and 2. I knew they wouldn’t remember much, but I certainly wanted them to have fun. Here are some tips you will find helpful, especially if you have little children, that I learned about during that first one (and note: the same basic tips can be carried over to a baseball card show or any other fan conference you take kids to):

Research comic con in advance

Before bringing kids to comic con, look up the schedule and vendor list. Just a little bit of homework in advance or your trip will make it more fun and productive, regardless of why you’re going. Find out who is attending so that you know if there is anyone that you want to sign something. Had I known artist Neal Adams was signing I would’ve brought more Batman comics. There were also lots of cool companies including some folks from Action Lab Comics who let us into some great new kid’s releases coming out.

Pay attention

If you’re bringing kids to comic con, pay particular attention to the vendors and surroundings for two key reasons.

• The horror genre. Some of those masks, books or cosplayers might be too scary or sexy for children.  Just look a couple of booths ahead at all times and avoid the ones that might scare the kids. Also, be sure to talk to them before going that all of this is pretend. If you’re in doubt about how your child will perceive anyone in costume then you might want to wait a year to take your child.
• Some of those items are valuable. Be it a baseball card, comic book, figurine or toy: that item could be worth hundreds of dollars. Our kids reached toward a couple of expensive comics in their grasp and touched them. I stopped them, but just as the vendor politely said not to touch anything.   Push did not come to shove, but I suspect that those vendors have a you break it you bought it policy.

To cosplay or not to cosplay

Cosplay, of course! Having your children wear their favorite jersey or a superhero costume to a comic con event makes for awesome photos and lets the others know that they’re here to play and have fun.

Even if they don’t opt to wear a costume, the folks who are in costume are more than willing to stop for photos.

Bring your kids to comic con … and your wallet

I knew there would be thousands upon thousands of comics for sale. What was surprising: many graphic novels for sale at 25 percent off their retail. A big thick Hulk or Thor graphic novel was only $5. Figure that each one has four to six normal comic stories and that is one heck of a deal.

A version of ‘Bringing Kids to Comic Con’ first appeared on Daddy Mojo.

When I was in school, I had a friend whose father preferred his sister to him. The reason: the father expected his daughter to cheer and the son to play football. Unfortunately for the son, he was barely over five feet tall. My friend could never get over the fact that he wasn’t acceptable to his father simply because of his height.

As babies, my boys were very similar – so similar that it is difficult to remember what our oldest and youngest liked as babies. Sure, the older one liked to sleep more and the younger one liked balls more, but overall they were both very calm babies who both were very good sleepers. We’ve raised them essentially the same – but as older kids, changes have emerged. The older is extremely cerebral; the younger extremely social. As I talk to other parents, many of them have indicated that they have an unofficial favorite child. I am proud to say that, though our children go through phases of liking one parent or the other better, I have never had a “favorite” child. If I ever had a favorite, the status didn’t last more than a couple hours before the other one would do something really cute or helpful.

Our youngest has developed delayed speech. He is only three, but while he doesn’t talk much he is one of the social leaders of his class. The oldest still needs to work on interacting in a group, but is doing 90-piece jigsaw puzzles independently and works on activity books for kindergarteners while he’s only in preschool. How could we possibly have a favorite amongst those two options? It’s like saying you prefer drinking coffee more than you like cookies. Each person serves their own, independent purpose that can’t be compared with anyone else.

The first line of most parenting books I have read is something akin to: don’t compare your children. If you do, it’s not only detrimental to the “non-preferred” child; but it is just as bad for the “preferred” child. As parents, our job is to attempt to get our children ready for the real world and having a favorite child does exactly the opposite. We don’t have a favorite son, but sometimes they have a favorite parent, but it’s our job to be certain that mom and dad are on the same page so that things are consistent and they, regardless of who they may like more at the moment, know things will be the same.

A version of this first appeared on Daddy Mojo.

I’ve learned that brothers manipulate each other like salesmen. If one of them wants something, all they have to do is feign not being interested in it and the other one will back off. This rule holds true unless it’s something that has an attraction so undeniably strong that neither one can fake it.

Enter the doughnuts.

Our grocery shopping trips always start in the far right of the local Publix supermarket. That way we can pop by the bakery and get a free cookie. Free cookies, especially when the kids need a snack or you’ll be in the store for a long time, help keep daddy sane … keep daddy sane … keep daddy sane.

On this day, the kids were OK. They weren’t the angels they portrayed themselves to be on our annual Christmas card, but they were behaving in an acceptably manic way. This is a moving and gray behavioral target for a 3- and 5-year-old. It can go from normal to delirium in the matter of one shopping aisle. That is why we navigate Publix like Indiana Jones in the Temple of Edible Treats.

Some treats offer acceptable levels of enthusiastic outbreaks while others released the Kraken of childhood crazy. That is why we skipped the frozen foods section: it contains ice cream and offers a direct view of the doughnuts.

The doughnuts. Oh, the doughnuts. See, sometimes I let the kids get a bag of powdered doughnuts as a treat. Not in the plan today, though.

So, we went straight to the fruit to get some bananas. That’s when our youngest wanted to get out and do something. “Do something” is his Jedi mind trick. He placated me into thinking that he was sleepy, well-mannered or calm and not the 3-year-old doughnut-loving fiend he is at heart.

Once freed from the racing cart buggy, he went straight for the doughnuts. On the way, he yelled in the same frequency dog trainers use to get their student’s attention. He also laughed in that childlike yet maniacal way that makes me thankful that they’re on our side. Sort of.

His older brother was apparently in on the ruse, too, because he was cheering him on yelling “Go, go, go!” Once at the doughnuts he grabbed a bag, yelled with glee and tried to hide on the other side of the packages.

“I can see you, come here please,” I said. At the same time, an older couple rolled up in their scooters.

“Excuse me, can I talk with you,” the older gentleman said. “Never forget this. Never forget this time. By the time you blink, they’ll be older and you’ll be putting them in college. They’re running around the store now, acting like children, but this is the only time that they’ll do this. Enjoy it.”

“Never forget this”  — that was this older man’s Jedi mind trick on me.

I hadn’t intended to purchase doughnuts that day, but I did. I also gave them each one in the car, even though it was close to dinner time.

A version of this first appeared on Daddy Mojo. Photo: © Sarah Wilson / Adobe Stock.

During our recent vacation, we spent some time with the family and a handful of 7- to 13-year-olds. Since not every day was sunny, the kids spent some time watching television and it was at this time that I was reminded of how superior Pee-wee’s Playhouse was to every children’s live action show ever made.

I use the words “children’s live action show” loosely because when I saw Pee-wee’s Playhouse I was in college. The show ran from 1986 to 1990 on CBS and I saw almost every episode. I was far from a child, but the fact that it could be enjoyed by children and adults is what was so brilliant about Pee-wee’s Playhouse. Pee-wee’s Playhouse was like The Muppets in that respect. It had two levels of humor that existed in the same show. The kids thought that you were laughing at what they were (and sometimes you were), while other times you were laughing at something much deeper.

The cast of Pee-wee’s Playhouse is something that could never be repeated and is the stuff of legend.  You know that it starred Phil Hartman, S. Epatha Merkerson, Laurence Fishburne, Paul Reubens and others. But did you know that Peter Lord and David Sproxton (who did the animation on the show) were the ones who founded Aardman Animations, which does Wallace and Gromit and Shaun the Sheep? There was so much creative genius in Pee-wee’s Playhouse that one wonders how some network suit didn’t manage to screw it up for four years.

It’s hard to believe that Pee-wee’s Playhouse has just now come to Blu-ray. It’s all 45 episodes, the Christmas Special and 9 other special features including interviews with the puppeteers, fans, actors and more. It was against my fabulous memories of Pee-wee’s Playhouse that I saw the dreck that inhabits today’s children’s live programming during that vacation. The laugh track, stereotypes, poor writing, bright lighting and inane stories made me want to grab these children and show them what funny and family friendly funny can be.

Every morning, when the kids get downstairs, it’s the same ritual.

Our youngest sits to my left and his older brother sits directly across from him. He’ll talk about how he had “a good sleep” and ask about what we’re doing tomorrow, at which point I’ll remind him that we have lots of fun stuff to do today.

While all of this is happening, Abby, our 14-year-old flat coat retriever has already set up camp under our youngest’s chair. The boy is just the right height to massage her with his bare feet, and if anyone at the table is going to drop something edible it’s going to be him.

At this point, I realize that this is one of those moments, specifically those periods of time. Those periods of time. The ones that contain instances that we may not specifically remember but when looked upon as a whole, we remember the period.

The time of year also helps us recall these periods. For example, if you look outside in early August you’ll probably notice 100 shades of green in the trees. Some of the Japanese Maples are turning reddish, the pine trees are as green as ever, the Chinese Elms have dropped some leaves, and there’s the green mystery tree whose lower branches have rogue leaves that turned red and dropped by now. They’re the canary in the coal mine of summer.

One breakfast this week our youngest was beside me and his foot was grazing against Abby. Abby is slowing down and enjoying the sunset of her life.  For more reasons than that, I started to think that this is the last time that this would happen. It’s the way that some naturalists look at a river or the ocean when they put see it. This is the only time that the river will be like this. In a way, that thinking is correct. The ripples, water and debris in the water will never make the current flow in that exact same instance again. Ever. But the river will still be there.

Abby has always loved children. When my wife was pregnant Abby was the pet who immediately noticed and started guarding her. When both children were born she gravitated toward them and protected them, as best as a three-legged aging dog can do. Our children now are in a fun period of time that I want to freeze, but I know that I can’t. Like that amazing view of the ocean or the leaves when they’re just starting to change colors. In both situations, the leaves will fall and the beach will change. One hundred shades of green will change to red, orange and then nothing.  The beach will be altered by wind, birds or tourists. However, the trees and beach are awesome all year long.

Now, our children hold the pinwheels outside the car window, think they’re really ‘hiding’ behind a book or ride a scooter with such manic, toddler abandon that to them, it’s the Daytona 500. Abby sits under the chair, trying to look innocent, but hoping against hope that a piece of toast falls prey to gravity’s might.

Next summer the kids won’t have the same interests. As part of parenting, I’m sure that their interests will be fulfilling and suit them perfectly. Part of me wants them just to stop where they are so that I can spend as much time as possible here.  Ultimately, and selfishly, as the ocean that is never the same or is the sleepy dog under the dining room table, I know that’s not possible.  The only option is to spend time with them and appreciate them for what they’re doing and who they are, regardless of their age.

Editor’s Note: A version of this previously ran on Daddy Mojo. Photo by Bryce Evans on Unsplash

The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Teens by Sean Covey is something I could have used as a kid.

There was very little direction in my house and I just drifted from class to class in high school. If you pictured my life as The Breakfast Club, I was Brian. The difference was that while he got too much direction and pressure from his parents, I didn’t get enough. It doesn’t sound that bad – but it wreaks havoc with your confidence.

The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Teens are the same as the 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, which makes sense as Teens author Sean Covey is the son of Stephen Covey who wrote the adult version. The difference is this spins all of the habits in a way that is more relatable to teens. How? It’s very interactive – so much so a personal workbook is devoted to all the activities that go with the book. The first part is my favorite: What are your great habits? What is great about you? That’s good stuff. People need to keep thinking about what they are good at as well as what they need to improve.

This latest edition (5 million already in print) is updated with tips and stories for the digital age. Overall, I would say that this book is extremely effective if you can just get your child to read it. There is so much negativity toward teens going on in the media – from relatively new issues like social media and gaming to the more traditional issues like sex, drugs and alcohol — that we should add positivity to balance it out in our kids’ day-to-day lives. If we want them to grow up and be happy, productive people we have to get them in the mood.

Editor’s Note: A version of this article first appeared on Daddy Mojo.