How is it that I get on my own nerves?

In my case, I’m socially awkward. As a child, I’d always be the quiet one, not sure how or when to interact with others. Seventy percent of my interactions with people were, to my estimation, “weird.” Then, I’d spend the day or week thinking of how I could have been wittier, or more responsive. Better listener, responder, etc. I have these memories going back to elementary school.

It took me many years to come to grips with this and accept I had a closed personality. Many more years to learn compensating techniques. And awkwardness is still prevalent when I am not confident of my role in a social situation.

If we’re meeting for social purposes, it’s OK. However, if it’s professional, I need to know what it is. If it’s a brief, chance interaction, I’ve developed enough “small talk” to get me through a few minutes. If it’s a blend of fun and professional, or small talk lasts more than those few minutes, or none of the above, I’m lost. I’m awkward. I usually shut down, not knowing what to do.

Introvert or awkward?

Basically, if I have an interaction I’m not mentally prepared for, and I “botch” it — like shaking someone’s hand while I’m sitting down when I knew I should always stand, or saying the wrong thing — I’ll replay it in my head repeatedly and plan how to be better next time. I’m always striving for continual improvement in life, to figure out how can I win at everything all the time. (Side note: This mindset leads to a lot of disappointment and feelings of loss, as you may expect. Try it at your own mental health risk. But for some reason, it doesn’t stop me from trying.).

My fear is that my son may be following my footsteps. He’s quite intelligent, capable, learns easily, active, good-natured, loves to ride his bike and laugh. However, he seems to like to take his time and assess situations before he opens up. Similar to me.

Being a part of the Anchorage Dads Group, going to our events and seeing everyone else’s kids immediately running and playing while I’m holding my kid until he gets the lay of the land is sometimes worrisome.

Why isn’t he doing the same? Why does he need to be held for 20 minutes first? What am I doing wrong to socialize him? Am I unwittingly damaging him through my awkward parenting style and personal deficiencies? The self-doubt runs rampant in my head as I’m hanging out with the guys who’s kids are having the time of their lives.

However, a watershed moment happened the other day.

Our group went to meet at a playground, like we usually do on Mondays. My son is in my arms, watching everyone else. We go to the woods that surround the playground to get a stick, suddenly, he practically jumps down and starts running around the trails and trees having fun. Then other kids go into the woods and he’s leading some other kids on a “trail run.” WOW!

Child finds his own path

It dawned on my cloudy mind that maybe I’ve falsely thinking that my son needs to be like everyone else. Maybe my kid just doesn’t like the playground? Hahahaha – such a relief.

My wife and I take him to the woods and trails about five times a week. Playing in the trees, running the trails, bushwhacking, mountain biking, throwing rocks into the creek, playing stickball with sticks and rocks. We’ve been taking him on walks through the forest since he was born, telling him that the woods are a place to recharge, breathe the clean air, look at the trees, listen to the wind. The forest is his home away from home. He’s just more than comfortable in the wild.

Maybe the playground to him is like swimming to me or after-work softball to my wife? People love swimming and softball, but we have minimal interest in the respective activities. I’d be more than happy to go hang out with people and socialize, but I’m not going in the water above my mid-thigh. My wife will play softball if she absolutely has to, but is extremely pleased to not have to participate.

Why did I write this giant explanation of myself to come to the realization that my “awkward” kid just doesn’t like the playground and he might be like me?

The thought process.

The journey of discovery.

The mountain I made of a molehill. The highs and lows of parenting and worry for the child. He’s 3 and doesn’t really know the words to articulate, “While I don’t dislike the playground, I’d prefer if we did something else. I might play with the others, I may not. I would rather just go to hang out and see the other kids.”

While talking through this issue with another member of our dads group, he said something to the effect of “I don’t think anything will cause deeper personal introspection than parenting.”

What if my son does turn out like me and is somewhat socially awkward? Lucky for him, his mother and I are there to coach him through these things. Probably half the world is in the same boat.

My lesson learned from all this? RELAX! He’ll be fine. Unbelievable how many times I need to relearn the same thing.

Awkward reflection Photo: © Kirill Grekov / Adobe Stock.

We had gone to the wonderful Maritime Aquarium in Norwalk, Conn., with one of my wife’s best friends and her son. The aquarium is small but nice: they have seals, sharks and even sea jellies you can pet.

Honestly, if you get a chance to pet sea jellies in a controlled environment, I totally recommend it. The staff at the aquarium was very knowledgeable, explaining why they kept the jellies in a frigidly cold tank and about their life cycles. Though no one had an answer to the sea jelly versus jellyfish debate. Seriously, does that look like a fish?

After a nice lunch at a local Greek restaurant, we walked back to where we had parked our cars just down the block from the aquarium. It turned out to be next to a playground that seemed very modern with nice new equipment.

The sign at the entrance to the park explained that it was a “Sandy Ground” project. This one was sponsored by Goldfish crackers, hence the goldfish icons all over the place (turns out Pepperidge Farms, makers of Goldfish crackers, is headquartered in town). But what exactly is a “Sandy Ground”?

This Sandy Ground is one of 26 playgrounds built in areas devastated by the October 2012 Hurricane Sandy in honor of the 26 lives lost in Sandy Hook elementary school shooting a few month’s later just about 19 miles from this particular playground.

This playground was built in honor of Allison Wyatt, a 6-year-old killed by a gunman with an assault weapon in her own first grade classroom. The playground that day was filled with kids running, swinging and laughing. The kind of joy that was snuffed out almost six years ago.

At the time, people were sure the cold-blooded massacre of those 6- and 7-year olds and their teachers, would be the tipping point in the gun debate in this country. Sad to say, it has just gotten worse. So much worse.

It is nice that there is this playground that overlooks the water and has paths to hiking trails. It’s nice that there is a place for your kids to wear themselves out a little more after the aquarium. You watch your kids run and jump, but at the same you can’t help thinking about little Allison and her classmates and the cold hard fact that they cannot enjoy these playground built in their memory.

Visit the website for Where Angels Play, the organization that spearheaded the building of the Sandy Ground playgrounds, to learn more about the project. Click the “Our Playgrounds” link on that site to find the locations near you.

A version of this first appeared on Great Moments in Bad Parenting.

Dear Playground Patron of the Adult Persuasion,

The playground at our local park remains a really great yet intimidating place for fathers like me. It’s a place where we get to have loud, crazy fun with our kids but it is often where we encounter frustratingly frequent reminders of how much gender roles and stereotypes about men and dads are entrenched in society.

To help you and all those of us who watch over our children (or others’ children) at these public spaces, I put together a guide so  you can understand what modern dads are thinking and experiencing. This guide could have been a lot longer but Bluey is on at noon and no good parent is going to miss watching that with his child!

1. Playground dads want to be there

We enjoy being actively involved in our children’s lives and do not want to shirk the responsibility of raising them.

2. Don’t assume we are unemployed or unemployable

Since the majority of modern households contain two working parents, dad likely came to the park today because mom is working and he has time off. Shift work, gig economy jobs, telecommuting, seasonal contracts, alternating parental work schedules — the trend for this is clear: Today’s working dads today trade off more primary caregiver hours with their partners.

3. If we are stay-at-home fathers, it is probably by choice

For the most part, men who become primary caregivers today want to be the primary caregiver. He made a conscious decision – along with his partner – to take that role for a reason: financial or otherwise. The “he can’t even get a job” dad stereotype is outdated and incorrect (see No. 2).

4. Playground dads aren’t looking for a hookup

Like most playground moms, playground dads have kids because we are already in committed relationships. We are not at the park on a Tuesday morning to find a date. We’re here to escape the house while the sun is shining, and let the kids burn off some energy. Yes, some playground dads are divorced or single, but that number is actually lower than in the general population. Call it the modern father factor: Capable dads who want to raise kids aren’t hitting the singles bars after work or the playgrounds while parenting.

5. We are tired

Our kids run us ragged. We also may have been up at 3 a.m. to care for the baby. Unless 3 a.m. was breastfeeding time, in which case we were up at 4 a.m. to change a diaper.

6. There’s a reason we aren’t looking our best today

See No. 5 above. Or we might have missed our whole self-care time today in between picking up 18,000 Legos and cleaning sweet potatoes out of things that were never designed to encounter sweet potatoes. We’ll shave tomorrow. Promise.

7. These kids might not even be all ours!

What?!? Why would a man take someone else’s kids to the park? We may be here because once our friends and family found out we were capable parents, they began asking us for help. At a playground recently, my sister-in-law handed me her baby while she went off to play with her 3-year-old. Of course, no one there knew I was holding my niece and not my daughter. Thank you though, my niece is pretty cute.

8. We’ve got this

Time and time again, dad friends tell me stories of strangers saying, “Oh, give me the child, you’re doing it wrong!” They’ve had their kids taken from strollers and even right out of their arms by someone who thinks they can parent better often because the child is crying. This gatekeeping has to stop.

9. Dads belong here as much as any mom

Still have a problem with me being here? Complain to my wife. She’ll really appreciate your call interrupting her staff meeting. She’s out there making headway in corporate America for women — making her daughter and family proud — and my active parenting contributes to her being able to succeed in her career. (BTW, you’d like her.)

10. We will be here next week

Yeah, this parenting thing takes a whole bunch of our time. Playground dads are cool with that. See you soon.

Signed,

That Dad at the Park Today

About the author

Chris Brandenburg, shown here with his daughter, August, is a husband, stay-at-home father and co-founder of Twin Cities Dads Group. He is also a member of the National At-Home Dads Network, and one time ate some reeeeeally spicy Chinese food.

We all want our day in equality court. But I have lived a sheltered life away from the judgment of societal norms, so I had no idea my first experience requiring it would come as stay-at-home dad when I was shunned at the playground … by moms.

It was a brisk morning for April in Texas. I arrived at the local playground and felt a sobering chill go down my spine. Per usual, I was putting on an impressive dad-ing display when two, seemingly innocuous, moms approached. My kids jumped out of their skin at the sight of other children to play with and darted to greet them. I helped my children introduce themselves to the others. The moms responded by snatching their offspring’s hands and darting away while yelling something about gathering the menfolk to kill the beast.

Surely, this was the lone actions of some man-hating, wart-infested females. After all, I live in Texas — a bastion of progressive thought — so this had to be an isolated incident.

The snub hurt a little, but that was no reason to give up. There had to be play groups in the area, I thought, I’ll simply find one to join.

After the first three  had “NO MEN” (printed in bold!) signs hanging outside their tree forts, I opted to look elsewhere.

_______

Societal perception dictates men cannot control their urges and, therefore, must be avoided to eliminate temptation. For every one of me, there are 10 men looking for an opportunity to fulfill short-term sexual desire.
__

Regardless of my good-natured, friendly attempts, I kept getting the impression that these moms had no time for a man amongst their ranks. I was simply looking for my kids to be able to play with other kids and for myself to maybe be able talk to another adult about something that does not involve broken kid logic. I mean, I’m hip. I’m cool. I love my wife and have no desire to get busy in a Burger King bathroom with anyone else; and she assures me that if I continue to call myself “hip” and make references to 80’s rap songs that she has the utmost faith in my fidelity.

I was at a loss. Had I doomed my children to isolation because of my gender? I decided to take my case to the highest court in the land. The presiding judge is fair and known for a grace that is rivaled only by her beauty.

My wife listened attentively while making dinner, as I laid out my cruel, discriminatory suit. She threw in “hmmms” and “uh-huhs” at just the right moments to let me know my plea was going well. She even stopped dinner prep during a particularly egregious offender’s story and gave me an “oooh.” Obviously, I was not the problem here. The maniacal coalition of stay-at-home moms were being unmasked to a fellow female. Each incident of my mistreatment snapped in it’s place of the grand puzzle of her decision. Finally! Justice! She banged the meat tenderizer three times (I thought a bit over the top) and stated her decision.

“The problem here,” she said, “is you.”

______

Has the pendulum swung so far on women’s equality that they cannot remember what it’s like to feel this isolation, to be shunned or discounted?
__

That was not what I was expecting. Instead of sanctifying my oppression, my wife told me what she would be thinking in the same situations.

“Women believe most men want to bust a move and push it, push it real good,” she said. “You may not be looking to do the wild thing and they know it takes two to make a thing go right, but that does not stop their friends (or worse their husbands) from thinking that they want to pump up the jam. They can fight the power, but it’s easier to say you can’t touch this than to tell everyone, ‘Don’t believe the hype.’ Take it for what it’s worth, that’s just my prerogative.”

Have I mentioned I love my wife?

She went on to say that my best bet was to continue to go to public, group settings and do not try to initiate conversation. Be consistent and, when the moms feel comfortable, they will talk to me.

It was hard to hear, but true. I needed to understand that these moms do not know me and societal norms do not change overnight. Being a stay-at-home parent means a great deal of isolation. We do not have co-workers around the office or a helping hand when things go wrong. Our deadlines come up instantaneously and our progress goes unrewarded. Being a stay-at-home dad amplifies the isolation because the societal perception dictates men cannot control their urges and, therefore, must be avoided to eliminate temptation.

I get it, though. For every one of me, there are 10 men tuning out from their families and/or looking for an opportunity to fulfill short-term sexual desire. I cannot change other people. I can only try to understand where other people are coming from.

I cannot help wondering: Has the pendulum swung so far on women’s equality that they cannot remember what it’s like to experience this isolation, to be shunned or discounted? I mean: same team, moms — same team. I want my kids to be able to play with other kids. I want to talk to other stay-at-home parents about the news, parenting techniques and recipes, too. I draw the line at talking about The Bachelor, though. I’d rather be alone.

The point is, we are all hesitant about things that are not commonplace to us. The question I ask myself is, “Am I the kind of person who is willing to listen to ideas I do not understand and maybe learn something, or am I content to wade around with blinders keeping my world nice and easy?”

I think the same question could be posed of all equality. A mixture of dads and moms is the future of the stay-at-home community. My day in equality court is a long way down on the docket, but it’s on there.

A version of this isolation tale and the photo first appeared on Just a Dad 247.

Like any parent, I want my kid to be happy at school. This is her first year, and while she knew a couple of the kids before classes started, there were still a lot of new faces to get to know. I figured friendships would form naturally, and that’s true to a certain extent. But I soon realized many friendships were swiftly forming because of connections outside of the classroom.

One aspect of parenting that stay-at-home dads have to deal with is the “mother huddle.” That is those groups of moms who congregate at parks, coffee shops and playgrounds. The mother huddle is as much an idea as a reality. For me, it represents those groups of mothers that don’t want me as a member.

The huddle was why so many of my daughter’s classmates were hitting the ground running with their playdate game. Moms on the town catching up over coffee, kids in tow, become playdates, and these kids were forming stronger friendships and gaining confidence because of them. This was clearly something I was needed to deal with.

Making and missing connections

At this stage in my parenting life, I am used to being in female-dominated environments. I’ve been a stay-at-home dad since my wife returned to work when our daughter was 6 months old.

Initially, I was a bit wary of how our antenatal group would take to a man invading their exclusive weekday ladies’ time. But I needn’t have worried. They expressed not a single moment of uncomfortableness, and were more than happy to have conversations about cracked nipples and stretched vaginas in front of me while (in some cases) breastfeeding their kids.

A couple of years later, we moved. My wife again got a full-time job and I stayed home with our now toddler. Our old support network was gone, I was now a stay-at-home dad in a new town where we knew no one. And as the at-home parent, I knew it was up to me to make those connections.

It didn’t go well at first. At various baby and toddler groups, none of the moms would talk to me. I didn’t feel bad about it for me — but I did for our daughter, who I felt at that stage (coming up to age 2) would benefit greatly from regular social time with her peers.

Refusing to be defeated, I kept trying new groups — and eventually I found some friendly faces with similarly aged kids. But I was always aware of the mother huddle.

By definition, there were never dads there. Sometimes, mothers I thought I got on with would be in there, but I’d never be invited in. I even got totally blanked on a few occasions.

Now I have to face the mother huddle again, this time at school. The latest huddle has some familiar faces, but also new ones — and playdates were being exchanged as a form of social currency. I needed to break in.

My daughter and I were out and about one day, and she spotted a girl across the road. Turns out they had played together that week at school. Later, my daughter asked if they could have a playdate.

The invitation

The next day, I spotted the mom on the playground and went up to ask her. I was basically a strange man either inviting her to my place, or inviting myself over to hers. I wasn’t sure how she was going to take this.

Her reaction surprised me. She was grateful I had come up to talk to her as she was worried that her daughter wasn’t making new friends. So a few days later, we went over to her house. We chatted over coffee while the kids played in the other rooms. Turns out that she works four days a week, and doesn’t really know any of the other parents. I think she feels even more apart from the huddle than I do.

The next level to overcome was the unsupervised playdate, e.g., when my daughter would go to their friend’s house without me or I would pick the kids up at school for a playdate at our place. How would these mothers feel about their children (mostly girls) going home with a man they hardly know? I thought there might be trouble ahead.

But there wasn’t. All invitations were gratefully received, and many successful playdates later, I’m happy to have overcome my huddle outsider status. That’s not to say I’m now in the huddle. I’m happy to leave them chatting about each other’s coats after they drop their kids off (a conversation I recently walked past), but I haven’t let any potential exclusion impact on my daughter’s social development.

So perhaps the mother huddle isn’t the exclusionary force it once was. Maybe it never was in the first place.

About the author

In a previous life, Simon Ragoonanan of the United Kingdom was a television producer. He has been a stay-at-home dad to his daughter since she was 6 months old. He occasionally still works in TV, is a freelance writer, and blogs about being the dad of a daughter at Man vs. Pink.

There are times in my 4-year-old daughter’s life when I stop and take a mental snapshot of where she is in that moment and compare it to when she was younger.

I think about how far she’s come in such a short time and remember all the work we’ve done to help her. The trigger moment can be anything, like seeing her brushing her teeth on her own, listening to her say “please” and “thank you” (mostly) without being prompted, or reveling in her ability to parallel park a car on a crowded New York City street without the help of a rear-facing camera.

Recently, we took advantage of the unseasonably warm weather by visiting one of our favorite local playgrounds. We’ve had many visits there, and while plenty of them involve positive memories, some are not so positive. There have been times when Olivia wanted to do nothing but sit in a swing, exert no energy and interact with no one at all. She’s demanded to sit on a bench for entire visits, eating snacks and drinking juice, while watching other kids play, as if they were there for her amusement alone. She’s hustled other kids, and their parents, out of money with an illegal 3-card Monte setup, which she’s still doing community service to atone for.

It had been months since we’d visited the playground, and I wasn’t sure how the experience would go this time around. As we neared our destination, Olivia began peppering me with questions:

• “Will there be kids there to play with me?”
• “Can I go on the swings?”
• “Are the police still after me for that whole illegal gambling thing?”

I reassured her that her wanted status was all clear and that, since it was such a nice day, there would surely be kids to play with (and I would join in regardless). When we arrived it was clear she’d have no lack of kids to play with because it looked like our entire neighborhood was there. It was as if Mother Nature decided to give us all a break from the cold, dreary days we’ve been having and yell out, “RECESS! Everybody outside!”

_________

In order to get to the big kid slide you must first hire a Sherpa to lead you to the infamous “yellow ladder of doom.” Once that has been traversed, one must next climb the “thousand wooden steps of enlightenment.”
_______

The playground has two sides: one for younger kids and one for older. We began on the younger side and right out of the gate it was clear that the Olivia I had brought that day was raring to go.

She’s still small enough to fit in the toddler swings, so we hit those first. All I heard from her was: “Faster, Daddy, faster! Higher!” She was hell-bent on having fun, showing up all the babies on the other swings and letting any movie execs within earshot know that she was ready to be cast in the inevitable Fast and the Furious reboot where they show Vin Diesel’s childhood backstory. She could play the smart, headstrong female lead who takes no shit, pulls no punches and plays a mean game of hide-and-seek.

After the swings and some time on the slides, Olivia was ready to head to the big kid part of the playground. I was anxious at first, because I saw how many older kids were there and worried that she might get knocked around a bit, but she acted as if they weren’t even there.

She took on the big swings like a champ, holding on to the chains for dear life, face clenched in concentration as she went back and forth. She called for me to stop the swing and then said, “I want to go on the big kid slide.” In my head, the entire population of the playground stopped what they were doing, gasped aloud and collectively called out: “The big kid slide?!?!” In that instant I could swear I heard a record scratch while multiple women (and one chihuahua) fainted and my heart skipped a beat.

In order to get to the big kid slide you must first hire a Sherpa to lead you to the infamous “yellow ladder of doom.” Once that has been traversed, one must next climb the “thousand wooden steps of enlightenment” while simultaneously dodging the “big kids” — a roaming band of misfits and cutthroats who want nothing more than to hip check or push you out of their way in their search for the fabled “lost treasure of fun.” If you can make it past all that, and you are worthy (a.k.a. brave enough to go without the assistance of a parent), then you may ride the legendary slide. OK, maybe it’s not that treacherous. There’s a bit of a climb, sure, and there are all the big kids to maneuver around, but it’s really just an ordinary corkscrew slide and not something out of an Indiana Jones movie. Although it would be incredible to go down the slide while being chased by a giant boulder …

Anyway, my point is this: Olivia normally either avoids this slide altogether, watches other kids go down it or sits in our lap to go down it. Not this time, my friends. She climbed, juked and made her way to the top of this thing so quickly it made my head spin. Our daughter, who used to be timid and mostly afraid of this silver menace, was about to bravely and boldly go down the big kid slide BY HERSELF. The first time down, I welled up inside watching her go.

As she landed at the bottom I scooped her up, gave her a huge hug and told her how proud of her I was. She immediately went back for more. Each time she went back up I stood back, beamed with pride and cheered her on. This was one of those parenting moments that you tuck away in the back of your mind and hang on to for the rest of your life. Seeing your child grow and overcome obstacles is such a rewarding thing, and I’m so glad I was there for it.

In that moment, my secret hope was that each time she went down the slide it would be more enjoyable and she’d become more of a thrill seeker. I say this partly because I want her to be a bit braver and partly because I want her to take risks and see what life has to offer. But, more selfishly, because her mother gets motion sick very easily and DAMMIT I need a partner to go on roller coasters with once Olivia’s old enough.

A version of this first appeared on Our Little Mixed Tape.

EDITOR’S NOTE: NYC kids’ winter activities recommendations updated for Winter 2022-23!!

These are the times that try a parent’s soul — the cold, barren doldrums of winter between the New Year’s holiday and the start of spring (yeah – that’s pretty much all of winter, people). How can you keep your child entertained?

We compiled a list of several kids’ winter activities you can find around the boroughs to help you exercise your child’s body and brain.

You can also check out our friends at New York Family magazine for updated lists of seasonal events and great suggestions for other things for you and your little ones to do in the city.

Best kids’ winter activities in NYC: Skating

Let the tourists take over Rockefeller Center. Instead, start your quest for ice time by checking out NYC’s public skating rinks. Then, see what our friends at Tiny Beans recommend for skating in Manhattan, Brooklyn and Queens. Personally, we like:

Lakeside Prospect Park. This recently renovated Brooklyn skating rink features an outdoor and an indoor rink so you can have fun no matter the weather. Don’t forget to stop in at the cafe for hot chocolate.

The Rink at Winter Village in Bryant Park. This great Manhattan location always has fun going on in its Winter Village setting. Skating is free if you bring your own skates, but you do need to reserve a time. Features to rent include special penguin “Skate Aids” to rent that will help beginners under age 10 navigate, ice “bumper cars,” curling lanes and even dining igloos.

City Ice Pavilion. Hop over to Queens for this huge skating facility in Long Island City that features two NHL-size rinks. Note: helmets for novice skaters are no longer available for rental.

Best kids’ winter activities in NYC: Learning

Not all kids’ winter activities have to involve the cold. Winter is the best time to take your children to any of the scores of great historic places or museums New York City has to offer because … fewer tourists! Time Out New York Kids offers a great list of permanent kids’ exhibits at local museums. Here are some of our faves:

MOMA: The Museum of Modern Art. The “Art Card” program is part scavenger hunt and part-art history lesson that will teach and entertain your children. Also features story-time events, art classes and more for the wee ones.

The Queens Museum. Home for the most amazing scale model ever built (of New York City, of course, this recently renovated museum in Flushing is also a showcase for many contemporary and modern artists. It also holds many family workshops on Sundays.

National Museum of the American Indian. Located in lower Manhattan inside the Alexander Hamilton Customs House, which is a beautiful feat of turn-of-the-20th-century architecture, this museum teaches about Native American history and culture while also featuring special activities just for kids.

The Intrepid Sea, Air & Space Museum’s Exploreum Hall. This 13,000 square feet of interactive exhibits is just part of this awesome complex. It offers family-friendly workshops and storytelling activities year-round. You can even sleep onboard overnight through its “Operation Slumber.”

Best kids’ winter activities in NYC: Sledding

The city’s Parks Department website actually lists popular sledding spots in all five NYC boroughs (yes, Staten Island, too). Here are some of our faves:

Central Park: Pilgrim Hill and Cedar Hill. Pilgrim Hill, accessible at 72nd Street and Fifth Avenue, has steeper hills and tends to get more crowded. Cedar Hill, between 76th and 79th streets on the east side, has two hills, one of which is less steep and thus more popular with the youngest sledders.

Inwood Hill Park. Its location at the tip of Upper Manhattan means it’s less crowded than most NYC sledding spots, but man — it’s worth the trip there with lots of space and slopes to hit.

Fort Greene Park in Brooklyn. Features four hills of varying difficulty so there’s something for all riders.

You can find other sledding recommendations from Time Out New York Kids and our friends at Mommy Poppins.

Indoor play in NYC

Let the kids burn off some energy at one of these NYC indoor play spaces recommended by Tiny Beans. 

Bonus: Hit the ski, tubing slopes

New York City may not have mountains but the city is closer to the ski and tubing action than you may think.

We wrote a whole separate post about the best family-friendly skiing and tubing near NYC. Check it out!

Top photo by cottonbro via Pexels

1. Don’t take offense

You’re a dude. Most of the playdate parents you will deal with, especially if you are a stay-at-home dad, will be moms. They may feel weird about dropping their kid off at your house for two hours when they hardly know you. Not to mention that you may or may not be a gigantic scary looking human being to their small child. It’s all about comfort levels.

2. Keep a playdate neutral

Choosing your house for the “first date” is going way too fast. Meet up somewhere public like a playground so if it doesn’t go well there is no pressure to reciprocate.

3. Set a time limit

Standard times are two hours for kids who can sustain play by themselves without parent interaction. This may include your child if he or she is age 4 or older. Kids who are younger than 4, trust me, an hour is going to be plenty.

4. Set playdate parameters

Talk to the other parent about expectations, especially if the playdate is at your house. Set a time to drop off and pick up. Once, I didn’t do this and the parent showed up three hours later. Apparently, she went to see a movie that she didn’t have time for usually and thought that was acceptable.

5. Exchange digits

If your playdate parent is dropping off, make sure you have cell phone and home phone numbers in case something happens. Also, make sure the parent has yours in case he or she gets stuck in traffic or hung up somewhere.

6. Ask questions

Ask the parent if he or her child has any allergies or restrictions. Maybe they don’t eat a certain kind of food or are deathly allergic to something you think is otherwise safe.

7. Again, don’t be offended

If the parent you invited to the playground suddenly has her friends show up by “surprise,” let it go. She wasn’t sure of you, my friend, and having backup to talk to about girl stuff will probably make her more comfortable. While you may be comfortable watching others’ kids, they may not be until they know you more. Bonus: You just met more potential playdate parents! Everyone wins.

8. Pay attention

Watch the interaction between your kid and his new “friend.” Does this kid share? Do they play well together? Does the playdate kid offer to clean up without issue? Does the new friend scream when it is time for it to be over? These can all be things that make or break the playdate.

9. Chat the other parent up

Don’t talk about football constantly. You may want to get her take on whether Julio Jones is going to score any fantasy points for you this week but that is not good form. Ask about her family and share information about yours. While the kids are getting to know each other, you should get to know the other parent.

10. Give it play time some time

Kids will rarely get along perfectly the first time. Keep trying these public playdates until you become more comfortable with the other parent’s child. When you do become comfortable, then you can offer to host at your house. Once you establish a rapport, you can trade off dates. Eventually you will have established a routine that allows for either of you to get some time to yourself without worry.

A version of this first appeared on DadNCharge.

The Dry Harbor Playground, near the corner of Myrtle Avenue and 80th Street in Queens, seems stuck in a different time. It is more modern than the old aluminum slides and see-saws that were the norm of playgrounds in the 1980s in New York City, but it has not caught up with the ultramodern playgrounds of today with their space-age polymers and rounded corners. Somehow, it fits in perfectly in East Glendale.

Playground features

New York City has some of the best parks in the world and in those parks are world-class playgrounds. One of those is the Billy Johnson Playground in Central Park (enter near West 66th Street).

Like many of the playgrounds in Central Park, Billy Johnson Playground is made mostly of older-looking stone and wood. It is designed to blend into the natural beauty of the park.

When you walk into this playground, you’ll think it is something out of a storybook. You are greeted by an ivy-covered wooden entrance that opens up into a desert of sand on one side and a stone bridge that looks down on a small fountain, which is more suited as a drinking spot for small birds than anything else.

At first look, you’ll think you see a ton of litter lying about as large swatches of cardboard are everywhere. But that’s part of best feature of Billy Johnson Playground — an amazing winding, stone slide. On its own, the slide is a great ride, but if you grab one of the pieces of cardboard it’s transformed into a super-fast carnival thrill. Everyone goes down once then immediately goes right back to its log staircase to climb up for another ride.

Billy Johnson Playground is somewhat simple and definitely not what you think of when you think of the heart of Manhattan. It’s more like the heart of the shire.

Overheard at the park: “As your childhood gets closer to ending you need to get dirtier.”

• Water feature: Yes
• Sand: Yes
• Shade: Ample
• Bathroom: No

A version of this first appeared on Great Moments in Bad Parenting.