As fathers, and as parents, we know that whatever is within us is imposed upon our children. Whether it’s our jacked-up DNA or the baggage we carry from personal traumas, we can’t help but infect our kids with who we are – who we REALLY are. This is an involuntary imposition. Most of us want to share the good and excise the bad inherited traits in our kids.

But parenthood doesn’t always work that way.

I’ll start with a confession: I’m chronically anxious. I am afraid of everything and nothing all at once. I know that sounds impossible, but the things I should fear, I don’t. It gives a false impression of courage and confidence, but it’s just unhealthy. Rational fears have almost no place in my life. The irrational, the improbable, the highly unlikely, the complex web of “what-ifs” — those cripple me daily.

Over the years I’ve put genuine effort into keeping my inner struggles from impacting my children. For a while, I was sure I was succeeding. I made a lot of changes, and if I may boast a teeny bit, I made amazing progress. Sadly, it wasn’t enough.

As my oldest child’s personality began to emerge, my attempts to change the outward expression of my inner struggles clearly worked with her. The same struggles were embedded inside my daughter. It was the betrayal of DNA.

She becomes quickly discouraged by a simple task, seemingly overwhelmed by very minor obstacles. She latches onto a feeling and it overwhelms her and consumes her, leaving her unable to keep herself from spiraling. Too many variables can crush her forward progress. What for others is a quick decision — grab the thing and go – for her is a quagmire of possibilities with no clear path forward. She gets stuck.

Just like her dear ’ol dad.

Hope never gives up

For example, tonight is supposed to be her first sleepover. Last night she was shaking. Panicking. Terrified of the sleepover. In her fits and worries, in her frustration and anger, she asked if she could see a therapist.

It’s heartbreaking to know this is my fault. What broken strand of proteins have I cursed my daughter with? It’s clear she has the same poisonous voices in her mind. Her brain leaps to the darkest outcome for the darkest reasons – just like mine. It feels like an unbroken connection to ancient Celts on forlorn, rocky shores cursing the gray skies, fearful they may not survive another harsh winter.

But as parents, there’s one thing we can never do. It’s an option we discard when we embark upon this great adventure of parenthood: we can’t give up.

There’s no time for belly-aching. Our kids need our help now. Right now. We can be honest about our failings, and gentle in our solutions, but there’s no retreat here. We only get to move forward. Not trying is the only way we truly fail them.

I wish my pessimistic mind was able to gaze toward a horizon I believe to be filled with rainbows and chirping birds, but I know there’s no solution to this problem. There’s only learning how to cope. My brain will forever be this way. I’ve done the therapy and I’ve done the work. I’ve discarded the indoctrination that blamed invisible forces existing in imperceptible realms. All of these tools have been transformative, but the storms remain.

My hope is these words don’t discourage my fellow parents. My goal is to encourage, to empathize, but above all, I hope this acts as a reminder about the sacred oath to our children. It’s our job to raise them to be superior to us in every way. We must accept we can’t “fix” them, in the same way we can’t fully “fix” ourselves. We can be a little better every day and so can our kids.

I’m going to break the fourth wall here a bit. (Yes, I know, it’s a bit of a hack thing to do, but I don’t care.) A few paragraphs ago, I mentioned my daughter was having a mild panic attack regarding her first sleepover. As I’m re-writing and editing this, it’s the next morning. She made it through the night! I was unable to do the same at her age.

See, there’s hope, fellow parents. There’s always hope.

Of course, my daughter’s strength may come from her mother’s DNA.

Ahhhh, dammit …

Inherited traits photo by Anna Shvets via Pexels.

If you walk into my house during dinner or a movie night, you can tell my parenting style from where I sit. And there is a reason I sit where I do.

The house I grew up in was arranged like most houses during the 1970s and ’80s. Our living room showcased the hierarchy of the home. A couch and a loveseat lined up along the walls opposite one another while my father’s recliner received a direct view of the television. Sitting on the couch or loveseat meant you had to turn your head or body to watch TV.

My father’s chair always seemed silly to me, even though my sister and I would fight over it when he wasn’t around. It was silly that only one person could have the best view of the TV. It was silly that everyone huddled close together while one sat all alone.

In my house, a couch sits directly in front of the TV and a loveseat sits off to the side. There are no chairs. There are six people in my family, and we often squeeze together on the couch. Arms wrap around one another, legs cross in different directions, but we’re all on the same viewing page. If there was a chair, chances are it would be shared by two people.

The same goes for my seat at the dinner table. Growing up, my parents sat at both ends of the table, while my sister and I sat across from one another in the middle. We have a long rectangular table in our house today, but my seat is the same one I occupied as a child, right in the middle. In my seat, I am in the center of the action. Everything goes through me and around me. I am smack-dab in the middle of my family.

Fatherhood looks a lot different now than it did generations ago. Dads are stepping into the middle of their families, instead of watching from the top. Trickle-down parenting is on its way out while a more engaged and hands-on approach has taken its place. My seating arrangements may not be the way of the generations before me, but it is my way. My kids, wife and I sit (or stand) shoulder to shoulder – whether taking on tasks, being entertained, or simply just living.

And in this way, no one in my family is alone.

A version of this first appeared on One Good Dad. Photo: jaredpolin via Foter.com / CC BY-NC-SA

I reclined on the bed of the CT machine, ready for a close-up of my heart. I’d been waiting for this moment since August when an ultrasound failed to determine if I had inherited my family’s history of heart defects. A better picture was needed.

As the machine spun around my chest, I hoped the resulting image would show nothing faulty with my ticker. After all, just three days prior, I had completed a 5K race, and last year, a half-marathon. If something was amiss with my heart, wouldn’t I have known by now, after nearly half a century of living?

The path to this moment began in June when my uncle was hospitalized. My mother started talking about our family history of heart disease and defects. I knew the stories of disease (mostly the result of lifestyle), but tales of abnormalities present at birth were news to me. She even casually mentioned she had an extra heart cusp, a disclosure that triggered my decision to get checked out.

It’s about your heart

I needed to know if I’d been born with a congenital heart defect known as a bicuspid aortic valve (BAV). As the Mayo Clinic explains, “The aortic valve is the main ‘door’ out of the heart. Blood flows through the aortic valve to exit the heart, and supplies oxygen and nutrients to the rest of the body.”

A normal valve has three leaflets or cusps. Some people are born with one, two or even four cusps (like my mother) on their aortic valve. But the most common abnormality is an aortic valve with two cusps—a bicuspid aortic valve. This condition occurs in about 1 percent of the general population and accounts for more premature deaths than all other congenital heart diseases combined.

For better or worse, we receive a multitude of inheritances from our family. Some take the form of heirlooms like an antique pocket watch, a well-worn family Bible, or vintage family photographs. Others are intangible yet no less real. Think cherished family traditions, oral histories, or the cultural rituals that tether us to our ancestors.

But there’s also the messiness of our genetic inheritance. This legacy passed down through generations includes physical traits such as eye color or height, as well as health conditions, like a congenital heart defect. This inheritance is a reminder that our bodies are not merely reflections of our own choices; they are also the result of a genetic lottery in which we have little say.

Searching for congenital heart defect

During the CT scan, a cool sensation enveloped my arm as a contrast dye coursed through the IV port in it. This technique would enhance the visibility of organs in the images. Soon after, a wave of warmth swept through my body, signaling the end of the procedure. That evening, I received the results.

My aortic valve was healthy, devoid of any signs of coronary artery disease. But there was a twist.

The genetic lottery had struck again; my valve was also bicuspid.

No one wants to hear there’s something defective about their body, especially when it involves a vital organ. My first reaction was a mix of emotions, from gratitude to having lived this long with no heart issues to a sense of concern about the implications of this diagnosis. Would I have to make any lifestyle changes? What’s my likelihood of requiring surgical intervention in the future? How soon should I have my daughter screened?

Thanks to a cardiologist (and the privilege of having access to medical care), I have answers to these questions.

Inherited condition not a destiny

In the meantime, it’s just a matter of wait and see. As I age, my defective valve could begin to degenerate sooner than expected. It may eventually leak and/or narrow causing my heart to work harder to pump blood to my body. If left untreated, this extra work could increase my risk for heart failure. But with regular check-ups and proper care, I can expect to have a normal life expectancy, as most people with this condition do. Genetic inheritance is not neccesarily one’s destiny.

At 49, I’m acutely aware of my own mortality. I’ve likely seen more days now than I may see later. I’ve witnessed friends fall ill, some recovering, others passing away. I’m watching my mother age gracefully and have shouldered the responsibility of caring for my father, who died in July. I take my recent diagnosis as another reminder to live fully in the moment, to not delay dreams and passions, to seize the present.

As fathers, we often reflect on the legacy we’re passing down to our children through our choices and actions. While we can’t change the genetic traits we’ve inherited, we can choose how we manage and navigate them. By staying on top of our health, we enrich our lives and set a profound example for our children, modeling the importance of self-care, resilience, and the determination to live to the fullest.

That’s an inheritance any child would be proud to receive.

Operating on congential heart defect photo by Olga Guryanova on Unsplash

The string of celebrity deaths that started this year affected me, as a parent, more than they usually do. 

The seemingly ageless Betty White, weeks from her 100^th birthday.

Less than a week later, we lost legendary and groundbreaking screen actor Sidney Poitier.

Then came beloved TV dad and standup legend Bob Saget.

I always mourn the loss of life no matter what the person’s age. However, these three in particular made me very introspective about my own mortality and life.

I only saw a handful of movies by Sidney Poitier, but I knew he was pioneer for Black actors. He paved the way for many people of color in an industry that had long regulated them to roles like servants or uneducated punch lines. Poitier did so by taking on roles where he showed himself to be smart, eloquent and as fierce as they come. The ambitious son in A Raisin in the Sun. The compassionate but no-nonsense teacher in To Sir, With Love. So many more. He will always be considered one of the greatest actors ever. 

And I can tell you, with all honesty, that being Black and having the last name Gibbs, I often re-wrote his famous quote from In The Heat of The Night to my own benefit. However, the impact of introducing myself by authoritatively saying, “THEY CALL ME, MR. GIBBS!” goes directly over the heads of elementary school children I substitute teach.

Prime time parenting lessons learned

Betty White and Bob Saget were different. I watched them weekly growing up as part of my Friday and Saturday evening TV routine with my parents. Those nights included watching many now classic feel-good family shows like Family Matters, Amen, 227, Perfect Strangers and Empty Nest. Those prime time family shows shaped my youth. Several showed strong Black families with educated and hardworking parents like mine. Seeing those people on screen, as well as IRL in my home, let me know I too could achieve that.

But those prime time memories of being on the couch watching Golden Girls and Full House remain my fondest. I remember laughing with my mom at the crazy stories of Betty White’s “Rose” told about her hometown of St. Olaf. I clearly recall the goofy-yet-knowing smile creeping across the face of Bob Saget’s loveable “Danny Tanner” as he taught his girls right from wrong. (Later in life, I gained a newfound appreciation for Saget’s acting skills. This was when he revealed himself to be closer to the raunchy Redd Foxx than squeaky clean Jim Gaffigan in his standup act and post-Full House movie appearances.)

This is all to note that we no longer live in that age. “Must See TV” night and appointment television are gone. We can binge-watch an entire season of a show in a less than a day then move onto another. And, as parents with increasing responsibilities, it easier to plop your kids alone in front of the TV so you can take a break time rather than share family time. 

But I would challenge you to do something a bit different next time your kids want to watch The Thundermans or Family Reunion or even SpongeBob SquarePants:  WATCH IT WITH THEM.

Make TV time a learning time

You may think these shows are for kids and harmless. However, every once in a while, sit down and watch in right along with them. You may roll your eyes at the predictable stories line, overacting and terrible jokes (not all the different from shows of our youth, am I right), but put them in context. Adults write these shows. Many have adult concepts and mature themes slipped in that your kids might have questions about. They may also promote bad habits that are often dismissed by well-placed laugh track.

This is not to say that these shows are sinister, but they also should not be seen as babysitters. Make more attempts to watch your kids’ shows with them and when the credits start to roll, ask questions.

What happened in the show? What themes and lessons emerged? Do they have questions about what they where watching? Did anything words or actions need explaining? While binge watching can be fun, taking time in between shows to find some tangible takeaways they can grown on can be valuable.

These can be something as simple as how to be nicer to your siblings. These could be more complex, such as how to deal with the death of a loved one. Watching Golden Girls as a child really helped me see the value in long-lasting friendships (and how amazing cheesecake can be). Amen, for example, showed me the power of faith, a trend continued in the Family Reunion on Netflix. Full House showed a single dad trying to be a great example to his kids. 

So, make that TV time with your kids impactful and active. Your kids will be better for it because you showed interest in something they like. It might be a somewhat out of your comfort zone, but you will be a better parent because you will get what make your kids laugh, what makes them cry and maybe a little bit more about makes them tick.

Prime time parenting photo: ©Prostock-studio / Adobe Stock.

Light up the night! Families seeking unique, safe, outdoor adventures this holiday season should venture over to Shimmering Solstice at Old Westbury Gardens. Immerse in a majestic fairytale as you wander the lovely grounds at Old Westbury Gardens transformed into a wonderland of light.

This is the first year for this festival of lights on Long Island, NY. It took about 75 minutes to meander and explore dramatic light effects at this walk-through (it’s approximately one mile) experience. Surprises abound at every turn until the magical, grand finale- a ten minute, projection light show displayed on the face of stately, Westbury House. A truly intoxicating encounter! We could gush on and on about how the projection show alone is worth the price of admission, but don’t won’t to be a spoiler.

Overall, this outdoor experience felt very safe. A few of the paths were narrow, but we had plenty of space to ourselves most of the time. It was very family friendly and we all enjoyed the “warming area” filled with seating, heaters, and fire pits with a tent that served overpriced ($6 per cup), but delicious hot chocolate and cookies.

#ShimmeringSolstice runs almost daily before wrapping up on January 9, 2022.

We loved it and will definitely be back again next year!

Disclosure: NYC Dads Group received free admission to Shimmering Solstice. Opinions provided in this post have not been influenced by the free passes.

As a gay man, I’ve had my share of hurdles to overcome. That only increased when I decided to become a dad. Like so many others in the LGBTQ+ community, I’ve faced discrimination, inequality and abuse from laws, churches, schools, family members and society as a whole. While progress has been made, there’s still much work to be done to protect the most vulnerable — particularly trans people and people of color.

So what can you, a straight, cisgender dad do to support the LGBTQ+ community and teach your kids to do the same? Glad you asked! Here’s how you can be a Pride ally to us all.

I’ve put together a list that ranges in scope from small acts of kindness to larger, long-term commitments. But they’re all doable, and all important ways you can be an ally to LGBTQ families. Doing this work not only helps our families feel safer and more accepted, but it also relieves some of the burdens of us having to constantly advocate for (and educate on behalf of) ourselves and our kids.

Family origins

1. Don’t ask LGBTQ+ parents how they “got their kids” — at least not the first time you meet them. Queer families are often formed through foster care, adoption, divorce, surrogacy, IVF (In Vitro Fertilization) and other potentially traumatic experiences. While many LGBTQ parents are happy to discuss their family’s origins, it should always be on their time and their terms.
2. Respect the families LGBTQ+ people have formed. Our families might include biological parents, separated siblings, surrogates, former partners (of any gender) and other chosen family members. It may not be like yours (or like anyone else’s family you know), but that doesn’t make it any less valid, nurturing or important.

Getting to know you

3. Introduce yourself to the LGBTQ+ parents at your child’s school, but don’t force it. If a friendship forms, great! If not, it’s at least nice to acknowledge them and make them feel welcome. The same goes for new neighbors, church congregants and coworkers.
4. Introduce your kids to our kids — invite them for playdates, sleepovers and birthday parties. Normalization and inclusivity help everyone involved.

Educate yourself about LGBTQ+ life

5. Do your research. Confused about trans people, pronoun usage, or the meaning of the words “queer,” “cisgender” and “GSA” in this post? Crank up the Google before asking your new friends. This falls under the “relieving the burden” I talked about earlier.
6. Read books with LGBTQ+ characters and stories to your kids. While queer-positive children’s books are becoming more common, they’re still not always easy to find or carried in many libraries. While it’s also great to introduce your kids to LGBTQ TV shows, movies, music, etc., books are often the first and most important influence a parent shares with a child. Here’s a good starter list.
7. Educate your relatives, friends, coworkers, neighbors and church congregants. Share with them what you learn. Stand up for LGBTQ+ folks during arguments or discussions. Don’t let homophobic jokes or comments go uncorrected. This is probably the most important item on this list — reaching the people we can’t.

 School advocacy

8. Find out if your child’s school has a GSA. If not, find out how you can help get a Gay-Straight Alliance started.
9. Are there gender-neutral restrooms in your child’s school? Dress code policies that don’t allow for a range of gender expressions? Find out how to help make these happen.

Pride ally & community

10. Put a pride sticker on your car or fly a rainbow or Pride Ally flag from your house. Afraid someone might think you’re gay? Take it as a compliment!
11. Don’t assume anyone’s sexual orientation, gender identity, pronouns, familial role or parental name. Listen, be open, and ask before jumping to conclusions.
12. If you feel uncomfortable about anything on this list, take some time to examine why. Own up to your prejudices and learned phobias and commit to doing better. There’s always more to learn, and always room to grow!

Lastly, remember that the LGBTQ+ community is not a monolith, so don’t assume every family or parent is the same. This list is fairly comprehensive, but by no means exhaustive. Have other ideas or suggestions on how to be a Pride Ally? Feel free to share them in the comments!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Brent Almond is a writer and designer who combines parenting, pop culture and politics on his blog, Designer Daddy  He has been honored by BlogHer’s “Voices of the Year” and is a two-time Mom 2.0 Summit Iris Award winner. Other passions include advocating for LGBTQ families and doodling superheroes for his son’s lunches.

Pride ally photo: © Bogdan / Adobe Stock.

I didn’t really want to play Risk, but I felt a little trapped.

My son brought it up a few nights ago and said, “It’s Family Game Night! Let’s play!” And then my wife said, “Great!”

So I capitulated, groaning loudly. We started the game.

It’s not that I don’t like Risk. When I was a kid, I loved it. My best friend in second (or maybe it was third) grade, Paul Squizzero, had the game and on Saturdays, I would go to his house, and we would stage rollicking battles on his kitchen table with his family while his mom made us bologna and ketchup sandwiches, which I absolutely loved.

But the thing about Risk that I don’t particularly like is the element of luck. You can have 20 guys in Mongolia and only one in Siam, and with the right rolls, that one guy in Siam could end up winning. It’s not the power of the Siamese training forces. It’s just plain luck. When I was younger I saw some kind of majesty in that, the romanticism of the one fighting for his ideals, but now, when I think of it, it just seems that it is one guy is forestalling the inevitable. He won’t be able to win, he should just give up. Is this the difference in outlook between youth and middle age?

And the rolling, and the changing of armies, and the decision making, the game can be just interminable. It just tries my patience. Boy, I sound like a cranky old man!

But here we were, playing through it. I was grinning and bearing it, like a good dad should. To be truthful, I was probably grimacing more than grinning. I was dealt terrible countries, and my son, bless his little Siamese heart, is an amazing roller.

That first night, it got to be about 9, and we were only about a quarter through the game. I was in third place, far behind, and my wife was way ahead. (She’s very good at strategy games, and she’s a very lucky roller.) We left the board as is, set up on our dining room table, and over the next two days we ate around, over, and through the table, anywhere but where the game was set up.  Each time we played a few rounds, and things were moving. I made an incursion into North America. My son gained Australia. My wife gained South America, and then turn after turn would lose one country only to gain it again.

After three days on and off of this, my son was in the lead. I thought about giving up multiple times.

Risk Day 3: The Final Conquest.

We played a quick round in the morning. I conquered North America! I set up strong borders. I let my wife and son duke it out — she got greedy and tried to swallow Europe whole, but couldn’t quite do it, and my son took it right back. The cards kept on escalating. We had to stop at my turn so that I could go to a telemedicine doctor’s appointment, and my wife could get some work done.

After dinner, we sat down to play, one final time, agreeing we’d finish it off. I had warmed up to the game again. I was in it to win it. I fortified my borders. I took over most of South America from my wife. I managed to take my son’s continents away while keeping two of my own. My wife didn’t have enough firepower to do anything, flaming out on a spectacular set of rolls against my son. I told you he was a lucky roller!

My son turned in cards and got 62 armies. He annihilated my wife’s armies and grabbed her cards. He tried to invade North America through Greenland and failed. He tried to make an incursion into South America through Brazil and failed. He decided not to try Alaska, and let me take my turn. I turned in my cards for a total of 68 armies, and proceeded to romp through Asia, Africa, and Europe, and Australia, taking all of his continents away from him.

Rather than continuing to push my luck, I left strong troops in each of the continents and fortified my borders. I thought my was going to win over the long haul, but he took a look at the board, realized that he was in for a much longer, sloggier mess than he had realized, and decided to give up! I emerged victorious!

The moral of our game-playing foray

There are actually a few morals that I can think of:

• Never get into a land war in Asia.  (Check)
• Spending time with my family is fun!
• It turns out that forestalling the inevitable will work when your opponent is young and impatient.
• You should not always listen to your inner voice. I had a fun time playing Risk, even though I groaned when it was proposed  (I am sure that EMERGING VICTORIOUS had something to do with that.)
• Risk is as much about knowing when to stop as it is about taking actual risks.
• I’m also a lucky roller, and I get it from my family.

A version of this first appeared on Dadapalooza. Risk board game photo: © Albert / Adobe Stock.

Driving in traffic, especially Los Angeles traffic, sucks.

But driving in L.A. traffic with kids is the worst. And I had to do a lot of it over the past few weeks.

I used to think you really only have these options:

1. Listen to their music (usually Katy Perry on repeat).
2. Sing.
3. Play “I spy.”
4. Ignore them.

But then we found the amazing world of kids’ podcasts.

Not only do great kids’ podcasts keep your children quiet, focused and entertained during the long car trips we endure her in L.A. but we almost always learn something new about the world.

Our favorite kids’ podcasts

Good Stuff Podcast

Good Stuff Podcast is my friend Mike Mason’s podcast for kids and adults. He makes music recommendations for the family minivan, gives sports updates and trivia for the young sports lover, and tackles big issues like farts! This podcast is good for kids ages 3- to 9-years-old.

Brains On

Brains On is where kids send in their questions for real scientists and experts answer. The cool thing is the kids themselves host the show. My 3-year-old is fascinated by elevators and the story of the two “Otises.” If your children love science and asking questions, this is the podcast for them. Great for kids 3- to 13-years-old.

Circle Round

Circle Round brings folktales from around the world to life. My children enjoy the fun characters and they learn lessons about diversity, kindness, generosity and persistence. This is great for younger kids ages 3- to 6-years-old.

Pants on Fire

Pants on Fire is the antidote to a world of fake news. If you want to teach your kid how to tell truth from fiction, check out this podcast where kids interview two experts on a topic and have to weigh the evidence to decide what is genuine and what is a lie. This hilarious podcast for kids and adults might make better citizens out of all of us!

Story Pirates

Story Pirates takes stories written by kids and writes them into catchy tunes like “All Eight Unicorns” and “Annoy Your Sister School.” And they do the podcast from a falling apart pirate ship (it is part of the joke). This fun and funny kids’ podcast is great for children 5- to 10-years-old. Plus they have a book and do live shows around the country.

Wow in the World

Wow in the World! If you are an avid NPR listener, you will love this podcast with Guy Raz (my kids now sing songs about him and recognize him on the “adult” radio and Mindy Thomas (satellite radio owners may know her from Sirius/XM’s “Kids Place Live”). This podcast focuses on weird and wild things that happen in our world and weaves scientific discoveries into the crazy lives of the hosts. This one is best for the 6- to 11-year-old age set.

Do you love any other kids’ podcasts that help you get through the monotony of carpool line? Let us know! If you want to listen to something more adult, then lend an ear to these great parenting podcasts.

Podcast photo: RetinaBoys on Foter.com / CC BY-NC-SA

This time of year people are focused on making and keeping their New Year’s resolutions.  Some like quitting bad habits or making good habits are pretty straightforward. If you want to quit smoking, exercise more, read more, or eat healthily; there are very clear ways to start and places to get help. For others, like finding a community or group that will help you in your goal to be a better father, getting started on the right foot can be tricky.

That’s what the City Dads Group is all about. At its core, the group wants to form diverse communities for fathers who are looking to socialize and interact with other guys who enjoy spending quality time with their children.

We are all in here at the Chicago Dads Group. We love the chance to meet other dads who love being dads.  This year our group made it past the 1000 member mark, and we’d love to have even more!  We have seen first-hand the positive effects of creating a network of friendships and resources to help our members become the dads they want to be.  Whether it is activities like a play date in Maggie Daley Park or a Dad’s Night Out playing whirly ball, we are strengthened by every new father that joins our tribe.

We do a lot together here are some of our member’s favorite memories and activities:

I play competitive, energetic basketball every week with Dads from our group!

– Sean W.

It’s a brotherhood of guys who have great advice on childcare and are just fun to be around. I love Dad’s Night Out. I like getting away from the kids for a little adult time.

– Al W.

It’s nice to feel like there are others out there who share what I’m going through. We have a great group of guys…as fathers but also just as people who are fun to be around. My kids still talk about going fishing with the group, even though they were bored and didn’t catch anything. The experience was everything!

– Kyle E.

Join a Dads Group

Great dads don’t happen overnight it takes time, effort, and commitment.  That doesn’t mean you have to start from scratch though.  We’d love to add your perspective and experience to our own.

If you’ve been looking for a way to connect with other active and engaged fathers here in the Chicagoland area check out some of our upcoming events… We’d love to have you!

Disclosure: We proudly partnered with WaterWipes for this event and post.

One of the best things about being a part of the Chicago Dads Group is getting together with other fathers and their kids to watch them play and make new friends.  Whether you call them playdates, outings or adventures, we love them.

Our good friends WaterWipes, makers of the world’s purest baby wipes, treated our dads and their families to a fun breakfast and morning of play at one of our favorite local spots, The Little Beans Cafe. With cafe amenities for the parents and older siblings, imaginative play spaces for the tiny tots, and some sports and gymnastic-style play for the not-so-tiny tots, Little Beans is perfect for the whole family.

We had some epic make-believe going on in the “Tiny Tots Town” with all the dress-ups and play buildings. It is always a blast when kids get their dads in on the play. We also had some creative tabletop tennis, and an impromptu ultimate ninja competition go down with some of our bigger kids (sometimes even our dads fit that category). Everyone was having a blast.

Lucky for us, we never had to stop play for too long for a diaper change. With WaterWipes on hand, our dads could flag their toddler down and get them changed and back into action with the efficiency of a race car pit crew. WaterWipes gave us the confidence of knowing not only are we there to help our kids when they need us, but that we are taking care of their skin as we do. WaterWipes are made with 99.9% water and a drop of fruit extract so they are soft to the touch and gentle on sensitive baby skin. Additionally, WaterWipes have been awarded the National Eczema Association Seal of Acceptance — so you know the whole family can use them with skincare confidence.

“We love WaterWipes! They are soft on her skin and that makes my job so much easier,” said James Currie, a Chicago Dads Group father of a 2-year-old. “They give me peace of mind knowing I’m keeping her new skin clean with gentle and pure elements.”

Another one of our fathers, Rich Espinal, said, “It is great to be in community with fellow fathers and their families. It serves as a reminder that we have the same desires for more sleep, fumbling through the best way to manage tantrums, etc. Little Beans Cafe was an ideal venue with toys, activities, and places for parents to relax. It was also great to have WaterWipes on hand to wipe down faces buttered with breakfast and make diaper changes a breeze.”

WaterWipes are available throughout the U.S. online and at many major retailers. For more information, visit www.WaterWipes.com/us.