Editor’s Note: We’re digging into our ample archives to find some great articles you might have missed over the years. These help your stay-at-home partner tips come from 2014.

If you are a stay-at-home parent, you know you and your working spouse handle things differently. I have noticed some issues are even more glaring when the primary caretaker is, like myself, a dad — something made clear by observing other stay-at-home-dads and their spouses during my time helping run a dads group in Philadelphia.

Here are some things bread-winning spouses should keep in mind that would help them and the men (or women) they leave at home with kids all day:

1) Let It Go

You are going to need to let your at-home do things his or her own way. I know it is hard and some things are going to bug you, like that he wipes the counter counterclockwise instead of clockwise, but let that slide. Suggesting how to make things more efficient is fine. In the end, though, he will want to do things his own way. Imposing your will on him may just shut him down more. Let him figure it out and come up with a style that suits him best.

2) Don’t Nag

Nothing is going to motivate him less than constantly asking him to do something. We are aware of our shortcomings. In most cases, we try to find that balance between caring for the kids and managing household duties. If you want to help your partner, give him some time. Sometimes, things go by the wayside because we get overwhelmed.

3) Set Clear Expectations

Sit down together and communicate what you expect to be accomplished each day. Some couples think just managing to keep the kids alive and healthy is enough, but others may have greater expectations about cleanliness, meal preparation, etc. Make sure you end up on the same page. This will help cut down on problems later.

4) Help When You Can

This is a big issue with most stay-at-home parents, male or female. We know you have been working all day and you may have to work into the night as well but any assistance you give us is going to be much appreciated. Men tend to internalize issues until they build up and are afraid to ask for help because we know you are doing so much already and don’t want to start a fight. This is where clear expectations come into play (see No. 3). Tag team the nighttime routine. Ask your husband how he usually does things so you can stay consistent. That is really going to help him the next day with the kids because deviation is going to cause problems with his routine.

5) Communicate Effectively

If something must get done and he hasn’t done it, tell him in a way that does not attack him. Men, in particular, tend to get defensive when their shortcomings are pointed out. I often have difficulty with criticism because I respond better to praise. “Sandwich” the request between some compliments about what we are doing right. That softens the blow and makes us more willing to work on our weaknesses rather than just pointing out what we aren’t doing right.

6) Pencil Us In

We know you are tired (and so are we) but please — work us into your schedule because WE want to be in your inbox. (See what I did there?) It relieves stress and helps you reconnect with each other despite all the stuff you have to do. Instead, do each other.

7) Give Us Some Space

We need “guy time” as much as you need a “girls’ night out.” Offer to watch the kids so he can see that action movie you would never watch with him, or suggest he get together with the guys at a restaurant or bar to blow off some steam. You know how it is at bedtime and on weekends. Imagine your incompetent co-workers hassling you all day. Same deal. Sometimes we just want to drive to Target to walk around aimlessly without someone asking us for something.

8) Take Time For Yourself

We want you to be as rested and sharp as possible because you are providing for our family and you deserve it. If you need some time alone or away from the kids, just ask. He can occupy the kids for a bit so you can nap, catch up on work, or head out to the store by yourself. Just know that eventually, your husband and kids will be coming back.

A version of Help Your Partner first appeared on the DadNCharge blog. Photo: © nicoletaionescu / Adobe Stock.

Editor’s Note: If you’ve ever considered attending HomeDadCon, the annual fatherhood conference held by The National At-Home Dad Network, then this might help make up your mind. It was originally published here in 2014.

When I became a stay-at-home dad in 2008, I was terrified.

My wife and I had just moved from Chicago, where I had lived for 33 years, to upstate New York. I had resigned as a public school teacher after 10 years to stay in our new home and raise our kids, who at the time were 21 months old and 3. I left family, friends, babysitters I knew and trusted, and a community I loved. It meant resetting everything about my life.

The first week was rough. Our son broke his collarbone. Here I was, in a strange city where I was unfamiliar with where the hospital was and I couldn’t get a hold of my wife or her parents who lived in the area for help. I felt lost. I questioned if I really could do this.

A few weeks later, once I got the lay of the land, I sought other dads like me but without luck. I kept seeing the same moms at the gym and at pickup for their kids. Most accepted me as a parent but I still needed guys to share my experiences with.

Then, at church one day, my wife and I met a couple who had kids of similar ages.

“What do you do for a living?” the husband asked.

“I am a stay-at-home dad,” I said, dreading his response.

“No kidding!” he said. “So am I.”

What resulted was a friendship with me, him and his brother-in-law, also a stay-at-home dad. We regularly met on Fridays, which we named “Dads and Subs.” One guy would bring the Wegmans’ sandwiches and the kids would have an instant playgroup while we got to talk to one another about our week.

An at-home dad conference? Really?

In August 2011, my wife received an offer to relocate again, this time to Philadelphia. We couldn’t pass up the opportunity. This was the first city, however, where we knew no one and the first city where we couldn’t rely on family to bail us out of a jam with the kids.

I looked for dads’ groups after we got settled but kept coming up empty. I found plenty of groups for stay-at-home moms of little ones, but nothing for dads. Once, I even tried to join a moms’ group but was quickly rejected because “they didn’t feel comfortable with a man there.” I was on an island with really nowhere to turn.

Then I came across The National At-Home Dad Network’s conference, an event for stay- and work-at-home fathers who embrace parenting as their most important job. It was billed as a chance to meet other active and involved dads, learn from experts about various parenting and social issues, and take a brief respite from parenting duties.

I made plans to go to their convention in Washington, D.C., that next year. My wife and I worked out a schedule with her parents to come while I was gone and watch the kids. I piled into the car by myself and drove to D.C., not knowing what to expect.

It turns out these guys — a fraction of the tens of thousands of at-home fathers in the United States — were just like me.

Focus on being great parents, bonding

The dads came from all over. They stayed home with their kids because it was what was best for their families. They focused on trying to be the best dads they could be.

At the conference, we listened to people who had written books on parenting, a psychologist studying the rise of male caregivers in our society, and a person who had a website devoted to helping male military spouses who were at home.

In break-out sessions, we had honest discussions without judgment. We could share and be heard while dads helped other dads. Panels discussed popular issues with other men just like me. Guys talked about isolation and everything from discipline to diapers and bottles to breastfeeding.

Being around your peers in any field will give you that sense of self-worth. You see that you aren’t the only one dealing with a kid who won’t eat or how your teenage daughter won’t talk to you. I never laughed so much in my life and, at its end, I cried. I didn’t want this feeling of acceptance to end. Finally, I found my people — all in one place, no longer scattered but uniformly united by fatherhood.

The shared moments with them socially and the sessions on parenting were just what I needed. When I returned home my wife saw a change in me. I was dedicated and rejuvenated ready to be back with my kids and be the best dad I could be. It inspired me to start my own dads’ group, which eventually became the Philly Dads Group.

The men I met at the dad conference and of the At-Home Dad Network, an all-volunteer organization working toward the betterment and acceptance of stay-at-home dads everywhere, helped me when I needed it most. These guys became my friends online and in real life. They lifted me higher than I could have imagined.

If you are an at-home dad on the fence about going to the convention, I say take a chance. You never know where it will lead. The National At-Home Dad Network saved me, and it can save you too.

A version of this post first appeared on DadNCharge.

A teacher my son had said this to him about the art project he had just completed. A teacher who was supposed to bring out the best in him. A teacher whose very job is to inspire and empower all students.

And so, his mind began to turn, “Was it really good or just good for a boy’s effort?

I am a middle school art teacher. When you train for this profession, you are told that there are thousands of ways to praise. There is no room in art to undermine the creation, revision, polishing, and perseverance it takes to express oneself in art. In a subject where we think outside of the box, it’s hard to imagine feeling trapped within one.

My son’s teacher uttered six devastating words to an impressionable youth who was trying to find his identity in a class designed to nurture and grow a bud into a blossom. Instead of cultivating his art with tender care, the way a gardener transplants a root-bound flower from a pot it has outgrown to thrive in the sun, she instead tore his roots from beneath him. If she had said that to me, I also would have lost my footing.

She chose six words strung together that dispel the notion that anything he created, solved, wrote or performed meant anything at all because he is a boy and only girls have the predisposition to be expressive.

After all, boys will be boys, right? They are too busy wrestling with their testosterone levels to be bothered with feelings and self-expression. Never mind the centuries of critical thinking or pondering that happened before formal education existed; when men pondered the stars in the sky and discussed where the world actually ended. Never mind all the artists and poets from long before their time who spent hours capturing stars on canvas or putting words on paper. Never mind that the ways they spoke about the love they felt in their hearts based on a furtive glimpse or a temporary smile.

I’m lucky, I suppose. In all the years of my schooling, not one teacher told me I didn’t have what it took as a boy to be creative. There were hundreds of thousands of times words passed their lips and never among them was a word of discouragement or malice.

There was no sarcasm when they looked me in the eye and told me that the way I saw the world was special because it was my way. There never was an inference that what I created was inferior to another student because the way I saw the world was different from the girl sitting next to me.

I told my son that our gender never defines what we can and cannot do. I told him that his teacher’s comments prove that even teachers can get things wrong.

I told him that his painting of birch trees in the early morning was more than “pretty good for a boy” and that while that phrase was said to him by an adult, and adults are supposed to know more than kids, there really was no such thing.

I told him that despite his teacher’s own ability as an artist that she truly could never see the forest for the trees if she believed what she said to him and felt sure about a boy’s inability to be creative. If that were true, she was only really teaching to half of her students.

The only way for her to get out of the woods would be to illuminate her path. To prove to her that while the woods may seem dense and murky for boys our creativity will light the way; that our sheer will to not accept this premise that creativity is not for boys.

“Pretty good for a boy” shouldn’t be in our vocabulary. It’s an antiquated line of thinking back to a time when girls weren’t expected to do math or read for that matter because it just wasn’t in their nature.

So to my boy and for every boy who reads this, know this: Art is for everyone. Believing that will lead to a generation of boys who understand that self-expression is a part of who we are regardless of what we are.

A version of this first appeared on DadNCharge. Art photo ©Photographee.eu / Adobe Stock.

At times I would just stare at the clock and wonder why the day was going so slowly. I had already dealt with five major meltdowns from my 2-year-old since my wife had left for work, and the baby wasn’t following her usual schedule either.

The “me” time I would spend in the morning at our local YMCA suddenly seemed impossible and I often knew that there would be days when I would never leave the house. Dealing with a child in the “terrible twos” is a daunting task. I would think to myself, “If only I can fast forward to the threes, then we will be out of the woods.”

Well, that wasn’t true either. I discovered that the term “threenager” was coined for a specific reason. The time between your child’s second and fourth birthdays is the most daunting for a stay-at-home parent because kids start to realize that they have some free will.

The terrible two and threes is when your children will start to rebel. They may freak out because you cut up their sandwich wrong, the sippy cup you usually give them is the wrong color, or they really wanted pancakes and you gave them waffles instead. They will make you feel like the lowest of the low and they will get mad at you when they can’t tell you what they want because they think that you should be able to read their minds. This is the age when they often don’t have the words to explain what they want or are conflicted but can’t express themselves well.

Here is what you will need to:

Survive the terrible twos and threenagers in your life

1. Consequences

Consequences need to be established that are appropriate for your child’s age. If you want to correct a behavior you need to set an expectation. The main thing is you MUST FOLLOW THROUGH with a consequence. Don’t threaten if you don’t think you will follow through. Don’t count to three. Make it immediately clear that whatever they are doing is not appropriate in your eyes.

If your child exhibits a bad behavior, give them a consequence like a timeout. A time out of a minute for each year old your child is makes sense. Taking away their iPad time is only going to punish you later if you need quiet time. Follow through to the end and then release them. 

If it happens again, go through the process all over again. It will take A LOT of patience to get this done. Don’t try to reason with them. They are young, immature and don’t understand. My son used to run to the street all the time regardless of my explaining that it was dangerous. Consistent timeouts was the only thing that worked.

2. Consistency

This goes for all things, but let’s stuck with consistent timeouts. If they don’t follow your directions, put them on a step or chair that you deem a time-out chair. Tell them they have to stay in the chair for one minute for every year old they are. Set a timer. If they get out, don’t engage with them, just quietly put them back until they stay. When the time is up, get down to their level, and calmly explain why they were in a timeout. Explain that they need to say they are sorry. Hug it out. Then they can go back to playing.

3. Routine

Kids need structure. Make a schedule that fits with your day. Make snack times consistent (there’s that word again), the amount of time spent watching TV, one on one activities outside, errands to the store, and nap times. If kids don’t want to sleep, tell them they must have quiet time in their room. If they end up playing alone quietly, they are learning that there will be some times when they will just need to be on their own. At this age, they usually don’t recognize other children in play anyway and are in their own worlds.

Overstimulation at night can lead to restless nights. What is happening right before bed? Are they watching TV? Are you reading books to them? We would watch one soothing show on PBS Sprout, then read three books every night. Toddlers need a routine. It’s the reason that pre-schools consistently do the same thing EVERY DAY until they get it. Stick to that routine as best you can everywhere you go, and they will sleep more soundly.

If you travel, keeping your routine is harder. Being away from home is difficult for everyone — even I have trouble sleeping in a strange bed. The noises are different. It doesn’t feel the same. But try to make it as similar as it is at home. When my kids were young, I would put soothing music on at bedtime to help them fall asleep. On the road, I would play it on my phone and just let it run until they fell asleep.

4. Patience

Many dads have a tendency to get angry. Hitting is NEVER the answer. If you grew up in a house where spanking and regular beatings were commonplace and you think that you turned out OK just know this: physical violence teaches them that when faced with adversity, lashing out is the only way to deal with it. At a young age, they don’t know what they want so cut them a break. It’s going to be so frustrating and you may want to go into a room and scream into a pillow often.

Be patient. I know it’s hard. I have three kids who are now 12, 10 and 6 and I’ve been a stay-at-home dad for the last 10 years. People who believe in beatings don’t realize that they are not only physically hurting their kids but potentially damaging them emotionally as well. In real life, if you don’t do your job, people don’t beat you until you understand something. Consistent punishment in time outs, following through on behavioral consequences, and staying calm will teach your kids that it is okay to make mistakes and that you will love them through it all.

A version of this first appeared on DadNCharge. Survive the Terrible Twos photo by mdanys via Foter.com / CC BY.

The greatest tool you can use to help your children grow is something they can’t cram for to pass a standardized test. It’s creativity.

Creativity affects the way we learn and grow. It can be applied to any subject and teaches us that, even within rigid structures, you can find freedom of movement to make something new. And creativity is heavily employed and deepened in others by exposure to art, music and literature — the fine arts.

Show children a painting and ask them to tell you what it is about. No two kids will have the same reaction. You may be surprised at their interpretations because children are not bound by adult knowledge of the world. As Picasso once said,  “It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child.”

Take your children to a play and ask them what they liked. Processing visual cues and interpreting vocals train our brains to pick up on nuances about relationships and emotion.

Have children listen to music or play an instrument and they will hear things most of us never thought possible. Brain research studies have even shown that not only does music improve skills in math and reading, but also it promotes creativity, social development, personality adjustment and self-worth.

Fine arts help student succeed elsewhere

Individual interpretation can be as varied as the snowflake patterns that fall from the sky and as vast as the molecules within and around us. Walk down the hallway of an elementary school and you’ll see students’ personalities, bursting with individuality, in their artwork. I’ve seen this in my own children I have a pile of their artwork in my office from their different stages of life: from scribbles to actual people, their perception of the world is shaped by what they see, hear, smell and touch.

Good teachers use creativity in their classrooms on a daily basis. They create lessons centered on an individual’s thought or perception of a concept. Students demonstrate this in projects and performances, critiques and discussion. Study after study shows promoting the fine arts in education helps students succeed in other subjects. In fact, students who study art are four times more likely to be recognized for academic achievement and three times more likely to be awarded for school attendance.

So we know that the arts are important but what is the first thing government regularly wants to cut when there is a budgeting issue? Programs for the arts. President Trump has requested removing most funding from four federal humanities’ agencies in 2018, similar to what he proposed last year and Congress rejected, so we can buy bigger bombs and build walls. It seems counterintuitive, doesn’t it? He wants to make America great again but in the process eliminate these programs from our children’s lives. It’s as if he sees fails to see the connection between creativity and success.

Students in high school see the value in science, math and English so much so that they believe doubling up on these subjects will make them better students. Standardized tests, though, only measure a student’s ability to complete these tasks with a certain level of aptitude. However, ask any employer what it is looking for in an employee and attention to detail and an ability to work outside of the box are must-haves.

Let’s consider the funds that the government sets aside for the fine arts to determine their worth. Federal funding for the arts and humanities rolls in around $300 million a year, while the National Science Foundation is funded around the $7 billion mark. So while people understand the need for and benefits of fine arts education, they don’t invest in it nearly as much.

How it all helps

How do we combat this violation of our need to be creative? Get our children involved in as many  education programs in the fine arts as possible. Encourage them to take an art, music or theater class despite their perceptions of their strengths or weaknesses. Everyone is creative in their own way and kids need an outlet for it in order to grow.

The visual arts helps develop eye-hand coordination and ,because projects are often long-term, they learn how to develop something to completion, solve complex issues and tackle problems head on by thinking outside of the box.

Music teaches them focus and concentration. As with any performance, repetition and practice until a song is mastered teaches children self-discipline and promotes a passion for something people use in their daily lives.

Theater teaches social skills and interpersonal communication. Interacting with a cast and creating everything from backdrops to props to costumes means they are building an attention to detail to make their craft as realistic as possible.

Dance teaches an awareness of their body and the expression that flows through it. Dance can be interpretive or choreographed and provides opportunities for a declaration of feelings through movement when being static just isn’t your strong suit.

Theater, movies, and the culture around fine arts permeate everything in our culture that we value. Actors and actresses, artists and musicians claim high praise in our hearts and minds. Music, art, dance, and theater represent our past, present, and future: they remind us of moments in our lives and activate our memories.

So how do we encourage our children to follow the creative path? We become their agents, their coaches, their mentors and their muses. No uttered word should be ignored. No sour note left unheard. No scribble considered insignificant. For a child, exploration through the fine arts will open doors that may have been previously shut or, most likely, unseen. We owe it to our children to let them open those doors and explore what’s beyond them by keeping the arts alive.

A version of this first appeared on DadNCharge.

Every Christmas growing up, for as long as I can remember, our entire family would attend The Nutcracker ballet together. We would get dressed up and, my dad’s three brothers and their families also along, head into downtown Chicago to watch some Christmas magic.

As I kid, I really didn’t enjoy this. I had to wear dress pants and most likely some God-awful itchy sweater that my mom loved. However, what I did like was that we went as a big group to somewhere special. That was our time together.

We haven’t done this in forever. With us kids grown up and with families of our own, the logistics are mind-boggling. We can barely get together for Christmas day anymore as my family lives in entirely another state as do some of the uncles and aunts. I wish we could have some of the magic back.

And while I barely remember any specific presents I received for Christmas when I was a kid, I do remember those ballet trips the most out of all our family’s holiday memories. Why? Because of what my dad did after those outings.

It must have been around the time that stereo systems first came out with CD players because my dad was all about the Dolby Surround Sound. We all came home from the show one year, and he was filled with the spirit of the ballet and popped in his copy of the Nutcracker Suite.

He disappeared for a few moments as the music filled the house, only to reappear in the hallway dressed in his long underwear, twirling and spinning to his heart’s content. I never laughed so hard in my life and still chuckle just thinking about it. I am literally LOLing right now.

What I have taken away from this spectacle (and it was a sight to behold) is this: As a dad, you have to take advantage of times when you can make a fool of yourself for the benefit of your kids.

Growing up with three brothers, I didn’t have a lot of exposure to “girly” stuff so I am glad that as a father of daughters I get to have tea parties and dress up with them. For example, today we had a princess party and my 5-year-old told me I couldn’t come unless I was dressed like a princess. So I pop on a hot pink wig, boa feathers and a tiara. I think that I sufficiently fulfilled those requirements, don’t you think?

(Photo: Chris Bernholdt)

As always, it is all for my kids’ benefit. I am awesome at making a fool of myself for them and I am sure a lot of you other dads are as well.

A version of this first appeared on DadNCharge.

My 5-year-old daughter and I had just buckled into the car, headed home after a morning playground adventure in Philadelphia when the questions started flowing.

After we go somewhere, I like to talk to her about what we just did and ask her about her favorite and least favorite parts. Call it an exit interview of sorts that helps me learn more about who she is becoming and be a better parent for her.

I began with the highlight of the day and worked my way toward what she didn’t enjoy, which is when she gleefully screamed “NOTHING!” and pumped her arms into the air. Then there was a pause and some silence followed by a much heavier question directed back at me.

“Daddy, what is hate?”

My stomach dropped. I gripped the wheel tighter. My gut reaction, since we had been at a playground, was an unseen interaction maybe behind the rock wall or while she waited for a slide out of my line of sight. Did another child say something to her?

I asked her, “Why did you want to know? Did someone say it to you?” She was quiet so I assumed the worst.

I was relieved to find it came from a show she was watching on the iPad where the character expressed her disgust while doing household chores. The offending phrase was “I hate doing the dishes!” but never hearing that publicly from her parents, I could see the reason why she wouldn’t understand the ire behind doing a required task.

Too strong a word even for dishes

How quick was I to think the worst and to become angry and defensive? How quick it was that I had turned to hate. To hate something like doing the dishes should be replaced by “I dislike doing the dishes.” Hate is a word that my daughter should not know to describe anything. Hate is too strong a word even for dishes.

This had me thinking. In this increasingly violent world, children need to learn more about love than hate. In this world today, hate is a thing we are quick to act on. We assume the worst in people instead of the best.

Love takes time. Hate is too easy. We turn hate on like the flick of a switch or, all too often, the trigger of a gun.

Hate is fueled by misconceptions and a lack of acceptance for people who look, act or seem different from us. Racism, bigotry and hate run deep in our own country’s government. A government that is supposed to be setting the example for freedom and equality for the people and by the people.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal. It’s a lie. Equality is a farce. Women don’t get paid the same as men. People are profiled because of the color of their skin or where they were born. We automatically assume the worst without ever knowing what is in their heart.

Black men are gunned down daily because the automatic assumption is that they are a threat. A sudden movement can mean your life and they have to live theirs in fear of the very people that should be protecting them. I can’t imagine what it must feel like, to see a patrol car behind you and wonder, “Is this the day I am going to die?”

We have a president who hates. He wants to keep us separated into neat piles like a picky child’s plate separated by walls of intolerance and fear. He’s wrong. When we come together in love and respect, we create a whole new flavor. If your first instinct is to assume the worst in people, our country will never be unified.

All you need is love. Love is all you need.

Love too often comes with a price

When I think back to a time when I felt like there was an outpouring of love, it always seems to come with a price. The attack on September 11th was meant to divide the country but made it stronger. Not because of hate or a lashing out in anger when we retaliated but because of love. People have a tendency to show their humanity when they realize that it is fragile. There wasn’t a divide in race, age or sex. We helped everyone and anyone no matter what they looked like because they were just people. People trying to come together as a nation and survive an attack, one of the most horrific attacks on our home soil.

Yet despite our ability to come together and persevere together beyond age or race or any other characteristic that defines our outside selves, our walls eventually were put back up. Walls are not the answer. Only when walls come down will love grow in our hearts.

I don’t want my children to grow up ignorant. I don’t want them to hate first and ask questions later. I want them to see the good in people and accept that hate is never the answer. I don’t want their first instinct to be distrust as we’ve come too far as a country to regress to that. Hate is too easy. Love takes time and it’s time well spent.

I decidedly put my daddy bear claws away and told my daughter that that word should never be uttered when it came to people. I asked her how she would feel if someone said it to her.

“If someone said they hated me, I would be sad,” she said.

There is truth in the old Jedi mantra that hate is the path to the dark side. I’ve walked that path before and it leads nowhere. There will be many things she will dislike in her life. There will be people who will wrong her and she will feel hurt, and as much as we will want to hate them, hate serves no purpose in this life.

Love more, hate less. Be compassionate. Be helpful. Lift others up when they are too far down to get back up. This is how we love and when that four-letter word “hate” rears its ugly head, replace it with love instead.

A version of this first appeared on DadNCharge. Photo by Jerry Kiesewetter on Unsplash

I probably say it a thousand times a day and, honestly, it feels good to say it.

I say, “No.”

“Daddy, can I have a popsicle for lunch?” my daughter says.

“No. A popsicle is not lunch. Eat your lunch and then we can talk popsicles,” I say.

“Daddy, can I play on the iPad?” my son asks.

“No. You already had your screen time today. Did you pick up your room?” I answer.

Shopping with my children is when I say it most. If we get near the toy aisle I know it will result in a barrage that will crescendo into a giant “NO!” that makes people’s heads turn. This kind of trip has me grabbing the items I need frantically only to be faced with the tempting last-ditch effort of marketing gurus — the checkout counter. They want me to buy their toys and candies for my children like they are a consolation prize for their have survived their time in the store. Where’s my consolation prize? It is my shred of dignity because I was strong enough to face my children’s momentary disappointment by saying “No.”?

I am not alone.

“Daughter, will you eat these peas?” I ask.

“No,” she says.

“Can you just try one pea?” I ask.

“No.”

“Do you have to go potty?” I ask.

“No,” she says.

“You must try to pee before we leave,” I plead.

“NO, NO, NO!” she screams.

(Ten minutes later she is using the portable potty in the back of my minivan on the side of the road.)

Many kids learn “no” before any other word. Why? Because it is so easy to say! Yet for some reason, many parents have such a hard time saying it. They think saying it hurts their children.

For instance, take the parents who pamper their children at day spas, written about in The New York Times. These adult spas are cashing in on parents’ inability to refuse their children anything. As one woman, who paid $400 for spa treatments for two 8-year-old girls, is quoted as saying, “I don’t want them to feel that my saying ‘no’ means that I don’t love them.”

Why in the world does a child need to go to a spa to get a massage and facial? Tough day on the playground? Was preschool that arduous?

Saying “no” means you do love your children. It means you love them enough to set limitations on what is appropriate for them helps demonstrate the difference between needs and wants. This parent is setting a precedent for the future. At some point, she will have to say “No” or it will get out of control. What sort of young adults will these children become when massages and facials are the expectation they have at the elementary school age?

You can still pamper your children without giving in to their demands or activities that are just plain inappropriate for their age. My wife regularly creates moments for our girls where they can bond and feel special without spa treatments (and costs!). They take baths and showers, get into tiny robes, paint their nails together and do their hair, and watch a musical on TV. It’s a bonding event that barely costs you a cent.  Dads can create this experience by letting their daughters paint their nails and brush their hair.

Our kids are growing up too fast. We should want them to slow down and stay children while they can. There are just certain things my children don’t need to have or experience, and distinguishing the difference between needs and wants will help you make better decisions when your children ask you for something.

Spoil your kids with your love and attention, not spa packages that build on a narcissistic attitude. Learn to say “No” because you love them, not because you fear they won’t love you. Some parents just need to be stronger when it comes to the choice between “yes” and “no.”

Does hearing how others fail miserably really make us feel better about our faults or is this like a scene out of Jaws where we all compare our scars to see who has the biggest one of all? 

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Every day we fail at parenting in some way.

It’s not mommy brain. It’s not because we are the doofus dad. Here’s an awful truth we must all face: We are human and we are going to make a ton of mistakes. Parenting is hard.

I recently sat in a meeting with other parents, mostly moms, quietly listening to them tear themselves down. They seemed to think that they qualified for “Parent of the Year” based on all the ways they had failed their children.

Her kids were up early asking for pancakes with blueberries but she was struggling just with pouring the over-sugared cereal before she had her morning coffee.

The bus was coming, another one said, and none of her children could find their shoes.

This one’s son had a big project due today that he conveniently forgot about and instead she let him play video games all day yesterday.

My parents weren’t perfect. They used to chase me around the dining room table trying to get me to swim lessons. They probably watched me flounder in the deep end, wondering if the lessons were really paying off. Well, you know what? Someone throw me a lifesaver because sometimes it feels like I’m drowning.

Perfection and parenting mix like water and oil yet we have this weird obsession with doing everything just right for our kids. We want to show up to the bake sale with homemade muffins that every kid, despite their allergies, wants to eat. We want our kids to have MIT-worthy science projects. But that is not realistic and definitely not possible.

Always wanting perfection puts this undue pressure on ourselves while also sending a message to our children that anything short of flawless is a failure. We then feel guilty when our focus isn’t completely on the kids, and channel those feelings of self-loathing into this parental superpower. It’s no wonder so many of us feel inadequate.

And, to me, saying I am the “worst parent ever” so someone else can build me up doesn’t help with my confidence. Does hearing how others fail miserably really make us feel better about our faults or is this like a scene out of Jaws where we all compare our scars to see who has the biggest one of all? The truth is, we all need a bigger boat.

We used to be so fixated on ourselves before we had kids. We were the priority. When the kids came along, we shifted that attention to them and when things don’t do completely right, we feel a sense of failure. Athletes fail and work harder to improve. Scientists experiment then go back to the drawing board. Why do we, as parents, think parenting would be any different?

We fail so we can get back up.

We fail because we are human.

We fail because “parent of the year” is an unattainable goal.

So when the kids are napping, do something for yourself for a change. Don’t feel guilty about it. Your children will show up soon enough asking  for snacks and whining about something. Binge-watch Netflix without guilt. Play video games until your eyes are bloodshot. You deserve it because no one is a perfect parent.

1. Giving Santa All The Credit

My wife and I bust our collective asses providing for the children and making sure they have everything they need. When December 25 rolls around, I don’t want the fat guy in red stealing our thunder. We still talk about Santa and I play the game every time they say something like “How does Santa deliver all those toys around the world in ONE NIGHT?” or “How does Santa fit down our tiny chimney?”

Santa gives our kids toothbrushes and underwear, not the big-ass Lego set. Kids, this gift was made possible by a Danish factory and mommy’s hard work. Remember all those times she wasn’t here for dinner? These are blood Legos. Enjoy!

2. Elf on The Shelf

I don’t know what possesses people to put a creepy little doll around their house that effs everything up. I thought these things were supposed to keep your kids from being naughty. If you need a doll to get your kids to behave for one month leading up to Christmas, you have bigger problems on your hands. It’s not that these Elf on the Shelf packs are a special item either. You can go into any store and buy them. How do you explain to your kids that your elf is really a magical one and not an end-cap store special for a parent at the end of their holiday rope?

Moving a creepy doll around my house every day just to see the look on my kid’s faces as to why he moves? I can’t even remember to slip that dollar under the pillow like some nighttime ninja when the tooth fairy visits. My kids would have the laziest elf who never wanted to move around the house because he must like only that one spot. That’s an aggravation I don’t need.

3. Cutting Down Your Own Christmas Tree

My dad always meant well, trying to come up with Christmas traditions us kids would really remember. He succeeded in that this one was hard to forget. It always seemed that the best trees were miles from the Christmas tree farm’s main wrapping area and usually the snow was deep. I mostly remember being cold.

I know now why my dad went to a plastic tree and why, to make it more authentic, he would hang pine tree air fresheners. “Can’t tell the difference can you son?” he would say. No watering the tree, no sap, and certainly no squirrels in your living room.

4. Shopping at the Mall

No way in hell. From the parking to the massive amounts of people, shopping at the mall is everything I hate about the holiday season. The kids go loopy telling me they want every toy in the building, other parents’ screaming kids, and frantic parents trying to sneak toys into a bag when the urchins aren’t looking. No thank you.

Fighting people over an item that I can have delivered right to my door through Amazon by a guy in a delivery truck while I eat cookies in my pajamas sounds more fun.

5. Formal Christmas Photo

I won’t drag my family to a studio to snap a picture of us all in our matching sweaters. Besides, this is how it is going to go: The only people who will be looking at the camera will be me and my wife. Our three kids will all be looking in a different direction with my oldest son being closest to actually looking at the camera. My middle daughter will give us that creepy smile that isn’t a real smile, and the 3-year-old will look anywhere BUT the camera.

With digital photography being what it is today, I know I am going to have to Photoshop a head from another photo for each kid. I may even switch out the head from the school pictures just to ensure everyone is smiling.

6. Having My Kids Help Me With Christmas Lights

Maybe someday they will be up for it and I can make them climb on the roof like my dad let me do while he drank coffee  supervised from the ground. Someday I might even assign them the death-defying task of attaching the wooden Santa to the chimney.

For now, I like being out there myself applying all my dad taught me about outdoor illumination. Just a man and his 10,000 individual bulbs to check. I mean, my kids can’t even get a knot out of their sneakers so why would I trust them with the lights? No, this dad enjoys figuring out which of our 50 extension cords actually will handle the wattage for all our lights this year.

7. Caroling 

Of all the Christmas traditions, this is one better left to professionals who can actually carry a tune. I’m not freezing my keister off going from door to door to spread holiday cheer. I am that guy in church lip-synching to try to blend in with the guys belting out “Hallelujah” behind me. It’s not pretty.

If I show up at your doorstep trying to sing Jingle Bells off-key, I give you permission to slam the door and send me home for some hot chocolate. Also, if you come to my house, don’t be offended that I am not opening the door. I can hear you perfectly fine without letting all that icy winter air start up my furnace.

8. Getting A Picture With Santa

We all know how this goes. We build this up to be such a great thing and then we willingly have our kids sit on a strange man’s lap. Then we are surprised that they find this a scary situation.

I checked on Santa’s rates at the mall and he is charging $20 to $30 for you not to take pictures with your own camera. Sorry, but at $20 a head and three kids who want to tell this stranger what they want for Christmas when I already know, I’d rather blow that cash on ingredients to make Coquito and get myself liquored up on Christmas Eve instead.

So to these Christmas traditions, I say: Bah humbug!

A version of this first appeared on DadNCharge.