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.

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

Sounds like a fortune cookie, doesn’t it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nine-year-old Anna likes dance parties, having her hair done by my teenage daughter, and wearing a necklace full of her enemy’s tongues. As Dungeons & Dragons warriors go, she is a sweet little pixie that you don’t want to mess with. She also helps her father grow vegetables for those less fortunate than herself.

I introduced my kids and their friends to D&D during the pandemic. Their fathers are all part of our Kansas City Dads Group so many have known each other since birth. We’ve had a lot of adventures together during the last 15 years, but lockdown might have been the most challenging. I rely on my dads a great deal, and it was hard to be away from them for so long. My own kids felt the same. I realized it was as though they didn’t get to see their brothers and sisters anymore.

Trying to find a way to make Zoom meetups fun and interesting, I dug out my old Dungeons & Dragons books from the ’80s, bought some dice and figurines, and gave it a shot. Three years later, my little murder hobos have kicked me out of their D&D campaigns and now rampage through the imaginary lands without me.

I’m one proud dad.

A memory three years in the making

In the beginning, our “littles” had the attention span of barbarian goldfish. The group called them the Pixies, and they had special powers. When your need was great, you could summon a pixie to add an extra roll of the dice. The teenagers of the group used them with ruthless efficiency in big boss fights. Victory was snatched from the will of mind flayers and gelatinous cubes. When in doubt, call in a pixie.

The rest of our Dungeons & Dragons troops, which ranged in age from 12 to 15, often battle planned around the availability of the pixies. They took to my initial campaign with vigor, although not with the tactics I had hoped. For example, they hated talking and bargaining. Why bargain when you have a barbarian with an 18 Armor Class and a short temper? After a few sessions, it was clear that I could no longer lead them into innocent villages. My little imaginary townspeople were running out of tongues.

Eventually, the quarantine ended, and we had the final epic battle together. It took three hours, multiple visits from unpredictable pixies, and a lucky roll by a rogue — but the final boss was beaten. I thought they were done, and that it was a memory that made the pandemic a little bit better.

The next day the kids were setting up meetings on their own. 

They started collecting dice and putting D&D books on their Christmas lists. They invested in spell cards, studied lore and rules, and took turns being the Dungeon Master. And when they were done, I would get to hear the epic battles and the impossible dice rolls. Sitting from my chair in the living room, I could hear them debate a tricky section of the rules. And they did it all on their own, my little harbingers of doom.

I witnessed firsthand how they learned to cooperate, problem-solve, and use analytical thinking. They asked me to explain plot points and inciting incidents. I heard the stories that they crafted and they blew me away. To see all of this happen was amazing to me, and more than I could have hoped for in the beginning.

From tabletop to the big screen

The minute the D&D movie — Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves — was announced, I knew I had to take them.

I bought movie tickets and worked out all the details with their dads. How could I not? I introduced a hobby during a low point in all our lives in hopes that it would provide them with the connection they needed. The other dads and I joined in during those first early games as either a hapless wizard, a sly bard, or even role-playing an NPC to make this all happen. Honestly, I thought they would quit as soon as the pandemic was over. But to my joy, they kept playing.

I’m going to spoil them with popcorn, candy, and new sets of dice. We are going to cheer on the good guys, boo the bad guys, and probably secretly love the ones that are a little bit of both. For me, this is the culmination of that first campaign, when a little pixie asked if she could cut off the butt of a fallen monster.

“Um,” I said.

“I cut off his butt!” The pixies cheered, and the rest of the group laughed.

“OK,” I said.

“And I put it on my necklace!”

“Yeah, I think that is too much. Let’s not tell your mother about this.”

Often, I think about the long-term consequences of being a father. The actions that we take ripple out into the future, and sometimes mean more than we intend them to. An innocent act that can grow over years and transform into a core memory that they will keep for the rest of their lives. It occurs to me that a lot of my parenting wins are the result of me stumbling in the right direction.

Which is fine, as long as I can call upon a pixie to save the day.

Dungeons & Dragons photo: © EGinvent / Adobe Stock.

At the start of Beauty and the Beast, maybe 15 minutes in, Princess Belle is dancing in a meadow. She breaks into song as one does. What I see, as a father, is not the story of a woman who falls in love with an abuser. Well, I do see that. But what I see as a suburban father (and homeowner) is a field full of weeds. Oh, I’m sure others may call them “wildflowers” or “set design.” However, to the highly trained dad brain, I call them “shit that ruins my yard.”

Princess Belle needs to lay down some weed and feed. A whole crap ton, actually. She would probably be better suited to just going down to the local gardening store and getting a sprayer and a truck delivery. Seriously, she needs to buy it in bulk.

And I’m a little miffed at the Beauty and Beast village. No father figure in town has stepped up with his weed spreader to take care of the problem. If you don’t nip it in the bud now, at the source, it’s only going to spread. Then you are going to have the HOA coming down on your ass. Who needs that?

This is what fatherhood and its consequence — dad brain — has done to my movie watching. I constantly get pulled out of the story because I can no longer ignore some things that I see. I try to, but I can’t. The movie will be going along fine until I see something, that as a suburban father, makes me cringe.

Turn out the damn lights!

Take Blade Runner, both the old and the new movie. They are both very dark movies and I don’t just mean the subject manner. Hey, I’m all down for the robot love of the future. Apparently, all this robot love takes place at night. Which means a lot of lights. But here’s the thing, even with all those lights — neon and colorful — it’s still very dark. My dad brain starts to wonder: how much electricity they are wasting?

I know that shit isn’t free in the future. Is there some Blade Runner dad going around turning off all those lights when no one needs them? And if he is, he’s probably dying inside because it’s obvious they are using the wrong wattage. That light isn’t bright enough. This means they probably aren’t using the good energy-saving LED kinds. With so many lights to change, it’s probably the cheap knockoff shit which means they burn out a lot. How often do they have to replace those bulbs? Whoever runs that city is just making more work for dad. I would totally watch a movie where utility bills don’t exist. It would be some post-apocalyptic thriller where a dad has to scrounge around for the proper wattage light bulb and eat people on occasion.

Stop messing with my property values!

Marvel superhero movies send my inner rage out of control.

When Hulk smashes into a building, what I see is property taxes going up. Oh, sure, the buildings probably have insurance. But that means they are going to have to make a claim, which means rents are going up. Don’t Millennials have enough to worry about? Rents are already out of control.

And we all know that debris is going to ruin sidewalks and that’s the real rub, where the real consumer is going to get hit. Sales tax will have to go up to repair those streets. I don’t see Captain America out there with a hard hat laying asphalt. And let’s be clear, I can’t welcome all those Millennials into the suburbs. That will make my taxes go up, with all their demands for affordable housing.

Then the Avengers will follow and — bam — my sidewalks get jacked up. What happens if they break a water line? Who’s going to pay for that shit? If it’s on my property, me, that’s who. I’m going to have to sit out in the front of my house with my water hose, spraying down aliens and Iron Man while screaming “Get. Off. My. Lawn!”  And, I’ll mean it. Suburban dads have lawyers. I’m going to sue.

Killer little plastic bricks!

Every Lego movie makes me cringe. Sure, they are clever and action-packed. However, when there’s an explosion in a Lego movie, I see a thousand tiny parts going everywhere. Those tiny little Lego bricks hurt like a son of a bitch when you step on them in the middle of the night. It’s like I have PTSD from Lego injuries. The center of my foot gets sore just thinking about it.

And they jack up the vacuum cleaner, especially those clear ones that I can’t see. That’s a half hour just to fix the vacuum cleaner. Then you’ve got a busted scene and someone has got to put it back together. Yeah, that’s going to be dad. Three hours of work just so that I can do it all over again when Batman comes screeching through.

Finally, dad brain teaches a good lesson

Seriously, watching movies is exhausting with dad brain.

Aliens came on recently, the second one, the one that’s really good. Ripley was getting ready to beat some mother queen ass.

“Little Hoss!” I screamed. “Get in here!”

“What?” she asked.

“Come here and watch this movie.”

She sat and together we enjoyed Ripley running around trying to save Newt. The little girl gets taken, the mother Queen lays some gross-looking eggs, Ripley saves the day and they escape.

Little Hoss buried her head into my shoulder, right at the good part where Ripley doesn’t know that the Queen smuggled herself on board. Little Hoss knows something is coming. She can feel the tension of the scene.

“Look, baby, you need to watch this,” I said.

“Is it scary?”

“Yeah, totally. Watch.”

Sometimes being a father means facing those fears together.

The Queen rips Bishop in half. Little Hoss screams. Ripley runs away, leaving the little girl.

“She can’t leave! She can’t leave Newt!” Little Hoss yells at the screen. “Be brave, Rip!”

And then Ripley shows up in a front-loader robot to kick some alien ass. Little Hoss cheers. I cheer, even though I have seen this movie a hundred times. The fight is on.

“Get her! Get the Queen!” Little Hoss says. She’s jumping up and down.

“See that honey!” I said to my daughter. “That, that is what I wanted you to see. When you grow up, be Ripley. That’s who you have to be!”

A dad’s brain never turns off, I don’t think it can. That doesn’t mean that it always sees the bad things, though.  Sometimes it sees the awesome and takes the opportunity to show his daughter how to jump in some heavy equipment to throw monsters out of the airlocks.

But yeah, when I see an airlock, what I think is “Close that thing, you are letting all the cool air out. Do you have any idea how high our electric bill is? Were you raised in a barn?”

A version of this first appeared on The Hossman Chronicles. Dad brain photo: © AntonioDiaz / Adobe Stock.

There are no real rules to parenting. Well, there are some very basic rules like you must feed the kids and make sure they don’t look like a hobo catching the rail from Cleveland. But overall, you can parent any way you want. 

I have decided to parent like I’m in an action movie. 

“Must. Get. The. AHH!” My scream shatters glass. Twilight shards twinkle down on me.

“Dad?” my 5-year-old says.

“Son! Son!” I reach out my hand. “The couch won’t let me go; can’t let me go. No, it’s too late for me. Save yourself, son!” 

“Here, Dad,” he says as he hands me the TV remote. And there, just like a good action movie, the story arc is complete.

See, I couldn’t just get up off of the couch to get the remote. Where is the struggle? What did I have to sacrifice? Where is the drama?

Now I have some rules. Action Movie Rules.

Every struggle becomes sequel material

In the sequel to Get Off The Couch, the toy skitters across the hardwood floor. I inch my way forward in an army crawl. What is the toy? Why do I want it so much? What’s at stake?

It’s the toy to stop the mother of all toddler meltdowns.

So I belly crawl. The boy jumps on my back, uses my pants legs as a rope ladder, and tries to gouge out my eyeballs with his thumbs. There is a struggle. Good vs. Evil. Morally ambiguous motives fight righteousness that is confusing and complex. It is a battle that happens one plot point at a time.

Of course, I could just stand up and walk to the toy. But when do you see that in an action movie? No, it’s always the belly crawl when the object (usually the Holy Grail or a detonator) is 20 feet away. That’s Action Movie Rules. 

There are thousands of parenting books out there. Oddly, most of them now have the word “fuck” in the title. They have rules, but most are not connected to the real world or are painfully obvious. “Make sure your children eat in the morning!” Well, no shit. A lot of those books give advice that is completely useless like “when traveling by yacht, make sure the toddler is polite to the help.” Who actually parents on a yacht? That’s what the help is for. 

Breaking out the ninja moves

“I can’t believe it!” I yell at my daughter in the movie that completes the trilogy. “You betrayed me! My kin. You have gone against the family.”

My teenager stands motionless. Sweat drips off her brow. In her hand, she holds the last of the bean dip. A Frito hovers just over the lip of the can. The confused look on her face at my action movie setup monologue is the only opening I need. Against all hope, I charge. 

With a sweet ninja move I saw on the Netflix original Punisher, my hand locks onto her wrist. I use my legs as leverage and twist. The tables have turned! Now, I have the bean dip. 

“What the hell was that?” she asks. It’s cool, teenagers are allowed to almost swear in action movies. Just enough to let the viewer know that they are edgy and independent. 

“Justice,” I say, and my finger scrapes out the last bit of my prize, forever denying its sweet and chalky taste to the villain.

Everything looks great when it’s choreographed. But in real life, when things go south, the ultimate truth is that no parent knows what they are doing. We are all winging it, and we just edit the stories in post-production. 

In action movies, paper-thin metal filing cabinets can stop an AK-47 for some reason. Explosives are so simple that a 10-year-old can rig Nakatomi Tower to blow. Everyone can sprint. And most importantly, if you have a franchise, you can always come back when you are older for a surprise reimagining.

If only Action Movie Rules really ruled

From the top of the stairs I do a badass double flip and somehow don’t over-rotate. Not bad for a mid-40s washed-up action father. Something is wrong, though. Something is off. How do I know? Action Movie Rules: The hero always knows to go with his gut when something feels “off.” 

I hear it; a slight click. Without explanation, I run to the living room dodging several glass panes being carried by extras, and a guy pulling a tourist in a rickshaw. Action Movie Rules: Nothing has to make sense. 

I must make it to the thermostat. There is no time! I help an orphan on the way, have an emotional connection with him, and now he is my ward. 

I see the light spark on my Nest Smart Thermostat. It has gained awareness. Now we are parenting by Sci-Fi Action Movie Rules. That click I heard before was the furnace warming up. If I can make it, if only I can make it, I can stop the evil machine overlord from coming on and warming the house up from 69 to 70. The orphan gets kidnapped. I vow to come back for him. 

I strap into my exoskeleton suit and light a blow torch because that makes things look more industrial and gritty. I reach my hand out while a disembodied voice counts down.

Three.

Two.

One.

I turn the thermostat off, and the furnace shudders. I go back and save the orphan, which turns out was always my 10-year-old son. 

“That was close, Dad!” he says. 

“Yeah. Too close. But you know what they always say …”

“What, Dad?”

“It’s never close when you believe in yourself, even when the world don’t.”

BOOM! There is my tagline. The bad grammar will connect with the masses, and I’ll go viral. 

“You’re the best, Dad!”

“Yes, I am.” My words are slurred because somewhere between the first movie and the remake, I had a stroke. “Now let’s go home so I can have sex with your mom.”

A version of this first appeared on Hossman At-Home. Photo: © ra2 studio / Adobe Stock.

Whenever possible, I try to make any family vacation into a family road trip. Typically, the threshold of cost versus time savings I use usually equates to roughly 12 to 14 hours of driving time. Anything longer than that, I look hard into flying or even taking the train. 

I make some exceptions to that rule. For example, my family will be taking a one-week vacation to Myrtle Beach over the summer. The drive itself will be close to 20 hours; however, the cost savings of renting a car and driving from Kansas City rather than flying made me look hard at the possibility of driving. 

We have prepared ourselves for a road trip of this length. We have traveled from Kansas City to Denver which is nine hours and “survived.” Not that having kids in tow didn’t make it difficult at times. Children have unexpected bathroom needs. They get bored looking out the window. They don’t like your choice in music. And they constantly ask, “Are we there yet?”

Whether it’s been one hour or nine, here are some tips that have helped us get by and make the most of the time on the road together. 

Plan your breaks for your family road trip

The first two tips for surviving your family road trip go hand in hand. Before heading out the door, have an idea of where you will be stopping along the way. Plan your big breaks, such as lunch and dinner, along with some of the sites that you want to see before reaching your ultimate destination. This allows you to be able to tell your family how far from a specific stop you are. It can also help avoid many of the small bathroom breaks when you can tell your kids that you will be stopping in 15 or 30 minutes. 

Expect to stop more often than planned

Going into a family road trip with a plan of where to stop is always ideal. However, understand there likely will be unplanned, and often necessary, breaks. Acknowledging this will ease your stress level when it happens. It will also make it easier to accept you won’t beat the original ETA your GPS gave you when you left the house. 

Bring many snacks, drinks

Bringing a cooler of favorite snacks will help your kids survive the family road trip. Make sure to pack some healthy items so they aren’t eating junk food the entire time. Bring your own water bottles and fill them up whenever you do stop to save on the cost of drinks.

As the main driver for many of our trips, I like to sneak a few of my favorites under my seat. Whether it is Australian licorice, a bag of beef jerky or some cracked pepper sunflower seeds, I’m ready when hunger hits.

Forget screen time limits

The family road trip is one time when screen time becomes almost unlimited. It may appear that the motive behind this is only so we aren’t being constantly bothered by a bored child. Yes, it helps the time pass for them but it also helps us as a family stay on the road longer and get to our destination sooner with minimal breaks. 

There is a caveat though. We do make them take breaks every couple of hours from the screens. There is nothing worse than a kid getting car sick from playing video games the entire time on the road. I speak from experience. 

Make a game out of your family road trip

When the kids are not on their screens, play some old-school games on your family road trip. Try “I spy,” which can always be interesting when you are playing with younger kids. Make bingo cards ahead of time with various states so you can play the license plate game. Get creative!

Good headphones for the passengers

When we leave on any family road trip, the one thing we will turn around for is headphones. There is nothing more distracting than hearing one of your kids playing on their Nintendo Switch in the back seat while you are listening to a baseball game or a podcast on the radio. Their electronic devices are a way to keep them occupied but, as the driver, the only thing keeping you entertained is the car radio. Make sure that you can hear it and listen to what you want.

A version of this previous appeared on The Rookie Dad. Photo: ©Yakobchuk Olena / Adobe Stock.

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.

“Midwinter recess” arrives soon for NYC public schools so it’s time to break out your list of best February school break activities to keep the kids entertained.

Don’t panic – we’ve got your back on this one.

Start with our list of best family and kids’ winter activities in and around NYC. The skating rinks, indoor play spaces and the like listed here are proven winners … although we can’t guarantee that there will be snow for sledding that week.

Museums offering February school break activities

Make sure you check the event calendars of your favorite NYC museums and public venues. Many offer special February school break activities and programs, sometimes at little to no cost. Some of our favorites include:

• Intrepid Sea, Air & Space Museum – Three days of programming from NASA including full-scale models of the Mars Perseverance rover and Ingenuity helicopter. Mars scientists and engineers will offer demonstrations and exhibitions.
• Children’s Museum of Manhattan (that’s it in the top photo)
• New York Hall of Science (read about past great events we experienced there) – Expected to reopen in February. Check website before going.
• Brooklyn Children’s Museum – Hosting a Black Future Festival – a week of forward-looking fun that features dance performances, interactive storytelling, hands-on activities, and more! Also, you can book skating time on its new rooftop rink!
• NY Transit Museum

Looking for something a little different that kids and the kid in you will love? Try the Museum of Illusions on 77 8th Ave., for amazing and magical trip that will confide your senses.

Take in a show or movie

New York has a vibrant live theater scene for children as well as adults. So along with trying to score some discount Broadway show tickets, check out a few of favorite children’s theaters. Several offer extra weekday shows during the midwinter recess school break so you can make some memories:

• Swedish Cottage Marionette Theatre – Wake Up, Daisy! tells the story of Daisy, a lively little girl living in the heart of New York City in an apartment overlooking Central Park. At Daisy’s much-anticipated birthday party, she encounters three special guestswho grant her the gifts of courage, knowledge, and a second chance. (Read about a past show we saw there)
• The New Victory Theater – Circus and science collide with Air Play. With knowing smiles and suitcases full of surprises, this comedic duo elicits gales of laughter as they transform ordinary objects into uncommon beauty.

If the play isn’t your thing, how about a movie? If there’s nothing at your local multiplex, The Museum of the Moving Image always has family friendly exhibits to check out and they also offer special family matinee screenings during school breaks.

Parks for all seasons

If you want to get your kids out in the fresh air (or at least physically or mentally active indoors), don’t overlook our great NYC parks programs while looking for the best in February school break activities. Visit the NYC Parks School Break page for midwinter recess listings on the many programs and events offered in every borough on your children’s days off. Most of these events are free!

Even more things to do

One of your best resources to find things for your kids to do, whether its midwinter recess / February school break or any ol’ weekend, is Time Out Kids: New York City. Browse the home page if you like for the latest and definitely click the “Things to Do” tab for update lists of things happening today through the new month.

Photos: Children’s Museum of Manhattan (top), NYGovParks.org (below)

In the Disney movie Encanto, the character Luisa has super-strength. Covered in muscles, she lifts boulders and just about anything else for the household and the surrounding village. When pressed by her younger sister, Luisa confesses through song that she feels burdened by her gift of strength, physical and otherwise. She feels constant weight from expectations to carry “all the heavy things [others] can’t shoulder” and, on the inside, she feels ready to crack. Yet she maintains a strong façade because she thinks it’s what everyone needs but, as the pressure never stops, she doesn’t know how much more she can take.

Her song struck a nerve for me and, I suspect, for many other dads.

Dad is supposed to be the strong one. Dad carries the weight of the house and the family. He’s supposed to be in charge — the guy who’s got it all together. But under the surface, how we dads handle pressure matters. Because, ultimately if dad does crack, it’s the kids who get hurt most.

As a stay-at-home father, I feel a lot of pressure. Stay-at-home parenting means being at work 24/7/365 with little sleep, lots of self-doubt, and the isolation from other adults that comes from being alone children most of the day. My jobs include making sure the kids are happy, healthy, engaged, entertained, educated, creative, fed, sleeping, not killing each other, not killing anyone else, not destroying the house, and so on. Then come the household responsibilities: grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning (which, for parents of young kids is the equivalent of constant post-tornado repair), home maintenance and million other things. All this for a job that isn’t particularly respected.

Oh, and don’t even try to wrap your head around the biggest pandemic in a millennium, political upheavals, climate change, or anything else of the global catastrophe variety.

For many dads, the worst pressure of all comes from within. As a self-acknowledged perfectionist, I feel a constant push to not just be Dad, but to be the “perfect” Dad. The kids have to be constantly engaged. They can’t be on screens, but should be completely tech-savvy. These children we raise should be artists, but Jackson Pollack-style doodles and smashed Play-doh in the hair isn’t good enough. They should be reading by the end of their first month, writing novels by age 2, and applying to colleges by 3. They should be popular and surrounded by friends, but of course can’t socialize with anyone these days because of COVID. And on and on the pressure builds. Life turns into an Instant Pot set on high, and that isn’t good for anyone: you, your spouse, or your kids.

You know the secret to good pressure cooking? It’s knowing when to turn the valve. There’s a moment when you flip the seal and steam erupts like a geyser. It’s the difference between a magnificent meal and a mutilated mush.

So how, as dads, can we turn the valve on our own pressure? How do we acknowledge that pressures are real and will always build, but relieve them before we burst?

Step One: Find the Quiet Moments

Look for times during your parenting day that can be lower key. If all else fails, and you’re overwhelmed, it’s not the end of the world to let them watch an episode or two of TV (try Bluey, dads – trust me). Yet, there’s a lot of answers beyond just screen time. Do the kids like to draw? Print out a mandala or complex illustration and color beside your kids! Coloring is proven therapy, and the adult coloring book industry thrives. Whatever your situation, and no matter how brief, try to make sure there’s a few down/lower energy moments in each day to vent that pressure.

Step Two: Mix It Up

Get outside. Get your kids on playdates. Go meet dads near you. Go on “dadventures and explore the many little things around you from the zoos and museums to the tourist traps and more. Too much monotony drains the soul and ups the pressure. If you’re inside everyday and the only conversations you have are with stuffed animals at tea parties, that pressure cooker’s ramping up. Talk to other human beings. Go to places outside the home. It forces you to stay active physically and that’s great for the kids, too.

Step Three: Find a Pressure Outlet and Maintain it

Almost every dad I know has an outlet outside of his kids. I’m a fantasy writer. That doesn’t just mean I draft fantasy novels when the kids are asleep. I take moments during playtime to put on some epic fantasy music. While I’m in a repeat of the tea party that never ends, I allow a corner of my brain to daydream about those next plot twists. Combine that with aforementioned drafting, and writing is my release, a meditative event I honestly need. Some dads woodwork, others game or paint or brew beer. Doesn’t matter what the outlet is, find it and guard it as sacred time.

Step Four: Ask for Help

If the pressure’s too hard, tell your spouse. Hire a sitter. Reach out to your local City Dads chapter or some other dad friends. Talk to a therapist.

As Luisa in Encanto eventually realizes, asking for help is strength not weakness. We all take on too much. It’s OK to share that burden if we need to.

Don’t let the pressure win. We’ve all felt it. And hopefully we all realizes there are vents to let off that steam before you pop.

Photo: © DeStefano / Adobe Stock.

Martin Luther King Jr. Day is not just a time for reflection on the civil rights leader’s legacy. It is also a day of service in remembrance of his call to action to help others. To help families celebrate MLK Day, a federal holiday observed the third Monday of January, and teach children the value of his message, we’ve compiled some suggestions.

Learn about MLK

There are many great books and videos to help children of all ages, on their own and with parental guidance, learn more about King’s life and dedication to combat racism and inequality.

Videos

BrainPOP, an online educational resource for children, offers free animated videos and related educational materials:

• For children in grades K through three, the six-minute video on King is accompanied by quizzes and links to age-appropriate videos on other important figures in Black history.
• For children in grades four through eight, this video also comes with links to historic newspaper articles and extra reading material on King’s accomplishments.
• BrainPop also offers a short animated summation of civil rights history in the United States aimed at older children.

If your kids don’t need animation, Free School offers a nice six-minute bio of King’s life and work.

And, of course, you can hear and watch King’s famous “I Have a Dream Speech” together.

Books

Younger children will enjoy My Daddy, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., written by his son, Martin Luther King III, and illustrated by A.G Ford. It offers a glimpse into the family life of a crucial figure in this nation’s history.

Let the Children March is a multi-award-winning picture book by Monica Clark-Robinson with illustrations by Frank Morrison about African American children who marched for civil rights in Alabama after listening to King speak.

Martin’s Big Words: The Life of Martin Luther King, Jr., written by Doreen Rappaport and illustrated by Bryan Collier, puts the civil rights leader’s words in context. It adds additional straightforward text and powerful images.

Mature tweens and teens may like the graphic novel March: Book One by the late civil rights pioneer and U.S. Rep. John Lewis and Andrew Aydin with illustrations by Nate Powell. Starting with Lewis’ upbringing in Alabama, the 128-page book covers his life-changing meeting with King and its influence on his efforts to bring about racial justice and fairness.

Volunteer, serve to celebrate MLK Day

If you celebrate MLK Day by volunteering to help others in some way, you are following one of King’s sagest pieces of wisdom. “Everybody can be great … because anybody can serve,” King said. “You don’t have to have a college degree to serve. You don’t have to make your subject and verb agree to serve. You only need a heart full of grace. A soul generated by love.” AmeriCorps, an independent agency of the U.S. government focused on service, suggests several ways for the whole family can volunteer to celebrate MLK Day, such as:

• Bringing meals to homebound neighbors
• Organizing a food donation drive to benefit a local food pantry
• Create community green spaces by planting trees, grass, and flowers, especially in locations that may lack adequate green space
• Clean up a park or abandoned space
• Shovel elderly neighbors’ walkways, clear leaves or help with other yard maintenance

Points of Light, an international nonprofit dedicated to engaging people and resources in solving social problems through voluntary service, offers several resources to help you celebrate MLK Day through education and activity, including several DIY projects families can undertake.

Other ideas include:

• Build a Little Free Library for your neighborhood.
• Write greeting cards or letters to cheer deployed military personnel through Soldier Angel, or to isolated senior citizens through Letters Against Isolation.
• Organize a clothing donation drive to benefit a local shelter

Photo: © Atomazul / Adobe Stock.