“Dad where are my swimsuit bottoms with the ruffles?” my 7-year-old, Emersyn, screams as she turns over her dresser drawers in frustration.

I laugh and help her locate the errant swimsuit: a long-sleeved rash guard with matching pink ruffles on the butt.

Breaking my concentration, a new voice suddenly beckons from across the room, “Dad, can you help tie up my top?”

My 13-year-old, Viviana, approaches me with her arms crossed, holding up her little, pink bikini top as its strings drape over her shoulders. She stands virtually eye-to-eye to me now. I dutifully tie a tight bow before she walks off in a two-piece bathing suit that I can only describe as an intersection of a dad’s nightmare and teenage boy’s dream. 

I’m thankful for summer, but not for the dad dread of my young daughters in swimsuits. 

When our daughters are small, the suits are cute – adorned with ruffled butts and cartoon character bellies. There is little worry of adequate coverage from the sun (or a creepy old guy). Emersyn, in fact, could not care less about what she is wearing in the pool as long as the suit does not interfere with her ability to dive for the pennies I toss to her in the shallow end. 

A swimsuit style change is a gonna come

Something changes, though, during the middle school years – between 11 and 14-years-old. 

Our kids’ swimsuits begin to show more skin, with far less fabric and more pieces, sold in “look at me” colors, purchased with the direct thought of what others might think when they see them at the beach, pool, or on their Insta story. 

No dad can prepare for the inevitable day when this happens. Just as our daughters graduate from ruffles and Minnie Mouse to bright pink and visible cleavage, we dads must evolve. And, as we come around to the forced idea that our little princesses are now little women, we will have to help them protect themselves while simultaneously improving their own body image. 

This is hard work.    

When I saw Viviana’s first such smallish swimsuit a few years ago, I immediately recoiled, “OH MY GOD. Did Mom say that was OK to buy? That seems a little mature.”

That was not the best of reactions.

It is easy to stomp your feet and throw down mandates as it relates to what your kid is allowed to wear. In doing so, though, dads may be walking ourselves into an inevitable rebellion. Moreover, we have a responsibility to help our children carry a positive body image. 

Maybe the confidence required to wear a bikini to the beach is cause for celebration. Viviana’s strong. She is empowered. She feels comfortable in her own skin (although too much skin for my liking). Look at my young girl go!

Sigh.

Reacting to her itsy bitsy teenie weenie bikini

Or maybe I can take the opportunity to provide Viviana with a guy’s perspective of her minimal-ish swimsuit. This approach is complicated.

First, I should not be cringy. I would if I commended her confidence and told her she is beautiful. Next, though, I would try to explain that boys will certainly be checking her out – potentially oversexualizing her appearance as their hormones rage. Further, I would assure her that despite these young men fighting pubescent immaturity, there is no excuse for being objectified or disrespected for what she is wearing.

Rest assured, I will worry about her all the while kicking around the thought that I should have just told her no.    

But, when Viviana asks me to tie her bikini top, I will smile and help while internally puckering. I will want to react but will fight the urge to impose my prejudiced machismo on her influential body image and self-esteem. Viviana will walk off with half a butt cheek showing and I will shake my head and stay silent. I want to yell, “Get back in the house and cover up!”

And, just when I wallow in the thought that my little girl is no longer, Emersyn’s ruffled butt dives into the water and splashes me back to this moment. 

I throw the penny near her. As Emersyn returns to the surface with her arms in the air triumphantly and a gooey string of snot dripping from her 8-year-old nose, she exclaims, “Daddy, found the penny again!” 

Raising daughters for dads is great and hard. Emersyn is a joy. So is her sister. Even when our girl’s swimsuit butt ruffles give way to virtually nothing at all.

Photo: © Monkey Business /Adobe Stock.

My wife and I were recently given two tickets to an Indianapolis Colts preseason football game. Since my wife, admittedly, pays no attention during games she told me to do whatever I wanted with the tickets. After much debate, I decided to take my oldest daughter. The Colts no longer had Peyton “Nanny” as she calls him, but she was still pumped up and excited to go.

We live just a couple of miles from the Lucas Oil Stadium, so it was a quick car ride downtown. I managed to find free street parking, too, and all I had to do was cross four lanes of traffic and cut off two cars to get it. From our parking spot, it was about a half-mile walk to the game. As we walked up to stadium, I said, “Isn’t this place big?” and my daughter replied, “No, dad, this place is humongous.”

After entering the stadium and taking the lone escalator up, we finally made it to our seats. As soon as we sat down, my daughter wanted food and something to drink from the concession stand. I was able to hold her off until the end of the first quarter.

During the game we spent a lot of time following Blue, the Colts mascot, as he wandered around the field heckling fans. We watched the cheerleaders (because SHE wanted to, of course) do their dances on the sidelines. We even watched some actual football.

And there were questions. Lots of questions.

Are the guys dressed in black and white the referees?

Why are the Colts wearing white instead of blue?

Is there an out-of-bounds line like soccer?

Why aren’t the cheerleaders wearing pants?

Where are the cameras that put the game on TV?

At the end of the first quarter, we headed to the concession stand as promised. After much agonizing over what to order, she finally came decided on a hot pretzel and Vitamin Water.

We walked around for a while, looking at the race cars and boats on display all over the stadium. We went up to look out the big window on the south side of the stadium the overlooks downtown. We spent a lot of time figuring out what downtown buildings we knew. We found several cameramen, which satisfied her question about how the game gets on TV.

As the final seconds of the first half ticked down, we decided it was time to head home. If I’ve learned one thing over the years involving children, it is to end on a positive note. Besides, it’s preseason football.

It was a perfect day with my daughter. She felt special because she got to go on an adventure without her brother and sister. I enjoyed an outing without a stroller and diaper bag.

I’m not sure the conversation we had about the cameras putting the game on TV completely sank in, though. When we got home we turned on the TV to watch the end of the game, my daughter said, “Dad, lets look for us at the game on TV.”

A version of this first appeared on Indy’s Child. Football cheerleaders photo: ©moodboard / Adobe Stock.

The #MeToo movement has been a game-changer in the world of entertainment, politics and business. But how can parents make it one in everyday life while raising children? And how can men participate without being accused of the dreaded “mansplaining” or fear of causing more harm than good, no matter their intentions.

On the latest Modern Dads Podcast, guest host Whit Honea speaks with two powerful voices on parents’ roles in the #MeToo movement: Karen Walrond and Mike Reynolds.

+ Listen to our #MeToo parenting podcast +

Walrond is an author, photographer, speaker and coach. The Houston resident is the creative mind behind Chookooloonks, an award-winning lifestyle, travel, inspiration and photography website. It has received multiple honors from blogging peers in its 14 years of existence.

Walrond is also a best-selling author and has contributed photographs and essays to books on faith and self-expression, and a popular speaker on topics such as self-empowerment, creativity and innovation. She has appeared in national media including PBS, Huffington Post, CNN.com and The Oprah Winfrey Show, and was named one of YWCA-Houston’s 2016 Outstanding Women of the Year.

Reynolds, a father of two daughter from Canada, is the author of the Puzzling Posts parenting blog. He started Everyday Girl Dad, a website that sells T-shirts and crossstitching patterns with pro-daughter, pro-feminist messages.

Had I just used the profit motive for a less-than-fully ethical purpose? If I had a son, would I have gone to such lengths to justify the charity part of his sale?

+ + +

“Can we have a lemonade stand?”

As parent, you have probably heard this summery question at one time or another.

As a stay-at-home dad, I often helped my two daughters with their many stands during their younger years. To teach them about charity, however, I would insist that 50 percent of the profits go to our local food bank. They enjoyed making a little money, and I enjoyed their learning about generosity.

But one summer day my eldest daughter became more interested in making money for her own purchases, and she gently resisted the idea of giving such a high percentage to charity. In a moment I now regret, I responded by rehashing the value of charity for its own sake rather than nurturing a child’s naturally growing interest in money, budgeting and entrepreneurship.

I hadn’t considered that moment gendered or financial sexism until reading Ron Lieber’s The Opposite of Spoiled, in which he explains that studies show “parents are much more likely to talk to boys than girls about investing, protecting their personal information online, how credit card interest and fees work, whether it’s wise to use check-cashing services and what a 401(k) is. … And what do girls get more of? Parents tend to talk to them more often about giving money away.”

I kicked myself upon reading those words. As a father of daughters and no sons, I strive to root out any gender blind spots in my parenting. (My inner Lady Macbeth damns those spots when they arise.) While my wife and I model many role-reversals at home, how could I have missed this gendered charity-bias? Granted, the girls were young, but in hindsight this was an important beginning to their relationship with money that I failed to recognize.

Alas, all was not lost that day. After emphasizing the importance of charity, I decided to introduce the profit motive as well. I explained to my daughter that by having a sign telling potential buyers that half the profits will benefit the local food bank, she would actually attract more customers and thus make more money for both the food bank and herself. With some reluctance, she agreed to the sign.

Sure enough, a few minutes into the sale a woman saw the sign and declared, “I love that you’re giving half the profits to charity. I don’t even want any lemonade, but here’s two dollars for your sale!” My daughter’s eyes lit up and she gave me a big smile.

But I wonder what she really learned. Had I just used the profit motive for a less-than-fully ethical purpose? Or did the end justify the means? And if I had a son, would I have gone to such lengths to justify the charity part of his sale, or would I have welcomed his more aggressive financial attitude more than I had my daughter’s?

As a boy, I did not run any lemonade stands, and I don’t know if my parents would have insisted on a charitable component. But I know I was allowed to spend my first lawn work earnings as I saw fit. Some people rightly ask if it is even appropriate to make kids feel like they need to be charitable (and potentially guilt-ridden) at such a young age? One veteran parent I know thinks children just need to be well-loved at home and qualities like generosity and altruism will flow naturally in the future when they can better understand the needs of others.

Fortunately, I still have time to make up for my early overemphasis on charity and potential financial sexism. I am using several of Lieber’s suggestions with my now-teen daughters to provide a more balanced approach to their learning about both getting and giving, industry and charity. The tip I like most is to take your children backstage when they reach appropriate ages and understand family privacy. Expose the Wizard of the checkbook or online banking. Gradually reveal to both your sons and daughters how you earn, spend, save, and give.

Just be sure to keep an eye out, so to speak, for those gender blind spots, especially if you have daughters.

** Avoid financial sexism. Listen to our podcast with Ron Leiber **

We stood in line at the toy store as my daughter jumped and bent over in frustration because I was not going to buy the expensive doll that sat within eye shot of where we stood.

Although she knew I wouldn’t budge, she batted her long eyelashes and attempted to persuade me in a sweet voice to buy the doll. All her efforts were in vain and I calmly pointed out to her why her desired purchase was not a smart buy. As the conversation rolled on, a young woman jokingly said to me, “You’re raising a little diva there.”

And a chill went up my spine.

I smiled and shook off the comment, but I so badly wanted to share with the woman my thoughts on that word: “diva.” Because I hate it.

To me, the word is right up there with “bitch,” the “C word,” and other derogatory words that we use to describe a woman that doesn’t play nice. Even though we don’t look at the title “diva” as a swear word, it kind of means the same thing. And while society is straining to enter a new age of equality, using words like diva, or engaging in “diva” behavior, is not doing anything to push equality along. If anything, it does more harm than good to the equality cause.

When you think of the word “diva,” what comes to your mind? Here’s what comes to my mind. A spoiled starlet that cares very little for other’s needs. A person that is more concerned with what she wears than what is happening around her.

If a star is late or gives a degrading answer, we say, “Oh, she’s such a diva.” We give the title to stars such as J-Lo, Beyoncé, Nicki Minaj, Taylor Swift and Mariah Carey. I do not know any of these women and I am sure that many of these so-called “divas” give their time, money, and fame to causes around the world.

But I do not want my daughter to be a diva.

In fact, if my daughter grows up and becomes a self-proclaimed “diva” or is proclaimed so by others, then I will be disappointed in my efforts as a father. My desire for my daughter is that she cares little about her wardrobe and looks, and cares more about others — especially those in need.

Sometimes I feel that I am losing this war. From an early age, toys and media have shoved their idea of the ideal woman in front of my daughter, trying to convince her that all things pink are for girls and that her world should revolve around fashion, puppies, ice cream and going to the mall. Before I get too carried away and have everyone rolling their eyes, I will say that these things are not totally wrong. There’s nothing wrong with wanting dolls that take puppies for walks and there isn’t anything wrong about wanting to look your best. I love taking my daughter out to get her nails done. But there has to be more to her than that. And I don’t want her to be so wrapped up in herself that she believes the world is here to serve her.

There’s another problem, though. Words have power, and historically words have been used as a way to deny women equality. And we perpetuate that problem when we use words like “diva” to de-legitimize women and degrade them. It’s easy to discount and devalue women if you think of them in terms that suggest they are something other than equal persons. (And isn’t that what the term “diva” is – a title we bestow on women when we don’t want to remember that they are people). We live in a selfish society, and the desire to be a “diva” only perpetuates this downward slope towards a “it is all about me” mentality.

So let’s ditch the term diva. Let’s stop labeling women as such and let’s stop pushing our daughters to be “divas.” There are amazing women out there for our daughters (and sons) to look up to. My daughter can sing Taylor Swift’s songs, but I would much rather have her be like her mother, Melinda Gates, Sunitha Krishnan, Arundhati Roy and Malala Yousafazi.

Or better yet, herself.

A version of this first appeared on One Good Dad.

In my previous post I wrote about how I began my quest to fulfill my New Years Resolution  – to meet more stay-at-home & other active/engaged dads by attending the New York City Dads Meet-up Group event “Family Fun for Everyone” with Max, my 21-month-old son, at the New York Kids Club in Battery Park.    I had such a good time that two weeks later Max and I attended another “Family Fun for Everyone” event, this time at the New York Kids Club, East 67th Street location.  It was another great event, but my focus for this post is not on what transpired during the actual event itself, but on what happened when Max and I left the space with the other dads and kids to return home. 

As we were getting ready to leave, a bunch of moms with their toddlers were waiting in the lobby to enter the space. Two moms, in particular, stared with puzzled looks on their faces at the scene of all these dads bundling their babies up to face the very cold winter day.  I was happy to volunteer and tell them what they were observing.  One of them showed relief at understanding why there are so many dads there as if there had to be an explanation, and the other one wondered aloud why their own husbands weren’t doing this.

As I headed downtown with two other dads, Marion and Charles, more women visibly reacted to the site of multiple dads strolling their babies down the sidewalk.  I have to say that it made me feel pretty “badass!”  Even though it was just a pack of three of us, I felt a strong feeling of solidarity with all of the stay-at-home dads out there undoubtedly encountering the same thing.

When the three of us got to the enormous elevator that was to take us down to the subway platform on Lexington Street, about 10 women had to make room for us to fit in. One woman remarked: “It is not every day you see three guys with their babies!”  The women were giggly about it and asked about our wives.  I chose not to answer that question in a serious manner since two out of the three of us actually have husbands, and who knows how long we could have been stuck in the elevator with questions from these curious women once that fact got out!  We ended up getting off at the wrong platform, so we had to get back on the elevator again to correct course.  There was no celebrity treatment from this next round of fellow passengers, but you could tell that they too were trying to figure out the deal — they were just more discreet about it.

A few days later, when Marion (another member of the NYC Dads Group) and I were reflecting on the experience, Marion equated it to the rare hawk sighting we recently witnessed in Madison Square Park, where everybody was standing around the tree gawking and taking pictures.  It is hard for me to see it, being so close and familiar with the situation, but apparently to some New Yorkers the sight of us stay-at-home dads out and about is like having a chance encounter with some exotic species.  Hopefully, though, we are not one of the endangered kind. Thankfully, the NYC Dads Group is helping ensure that doesn’t happen!

About the author

Jacob Drill, is an at-home dad, with a 21-month-old son, Max. You can read more about some of his adventures at Gaddy Daddy, confessions of a stay-at-home gay daddy.

Mondays and Fridays are the days I spend with my 3-year-old son. Last week, I encountered a situation in which the modern-day family construct was lost in the mind of a proverbial “soccer mom”. 

It was 11 a.m. on Monday and the Trader Joe’s in my town was relatively quiet. I strolled the aisles pushing the cart while my son nibbled on a biscuit. As I tossed a box of “Joe-Joes” into my cart a mother and her little one came down the aisle in the other direction. She stopped next to us and smiled. 

“How sweet. You took the day off to be with your son.” 

Deep breath …

“I didn’t take the day off.”

She threw a puzzled look.

“Oh. So you’re unemployed. I’m so sorry. Times are tough I know.”

A thousand witty snide retorts formulated in my brain ranging from making fun of her fake Uggs to her kid’s nose which seemed to resemble a faucet of snot at this point. 

“No, I’m a stay-at-home dad.”

She looked as if someone had just asked her to solve a quadratic equation with a gun to her head and a stopwatch ticking down from 30 seconds.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Good luck to you.”

It was time to take a stand. Right here. Right now. With the gluten-free Mac and Cheese as my witness, I spoke with great fervor in my voice.

“Don’t be sorry. Frankly, it’s an incredible experience to be able to spend the formative years of my son’s life with him like this. I mean I’m sure your husband can relate to that, right?”

I just chopped off her earlobe with my samurai sword.

“Actually my husband runs a hedge fund and spends most of the weeknights in the city, so no… he can’t relate.”

I couldn’t help but smirk, yet felt bad at the same time. 

“Oh, I’m sorry…” 

I pushed our cart past her and as if to add insult to injury my son tossed his half-eaten biscuit in her shopping cart and said, “Daddy, that girl had a lot of boogies in her nose”.

Levity. 

It still baffles me why the concept of a stay-at-home dad is so unreal. I would really like for this lady to take a look at the Metro-North train station in our town during rush hour. There are as many men dropping off commuting women as there is vice versa. Perhaps she should stop in our Monday morning library class where there are more dads than moms singing songs with their kids.

I think this Monday I may have a meetup at Trader Joe’s with some of my dad friends in hopes of encountering that lady again. 

I’ll also bring extra Boogie Wipes for her child to show how awesome & thoughtful I am as well.

Do you feel that Father’s Day gets enough recognition?  Do you even care?

Last month, moms were pampered in honor of Mother’s Day, and next week it’s time to shower dad with gifts/cards/love and appreciation for Father’s Day on Sunday, June 19th. According to a new survey, however, “40 percent of men and 36 percent of women feel Father’s Day doesn’t receive as much attention as it deserves.”

The survey of more than 1,000 adults conducted by independent research firm Toluna and Buy.com, also found that “if money were no object, 41 percent of dads would want a new car as a Father’s Day gift.”  Personally, I would want a lavish vacation to South Africa so I can go on Safari (wink, wink…in case my wife reads this post).  However, when asked about ‘realistic’ or more practical gifts, the gift of time ranked the highest as nearly 20 percent of dads want more time with the family.  Absolutely, spending time with my family is how I plan to spend Father’s day this year!

As with any independent research study, we would be able to shoot holes in the findings, find flaws with the population in the study, or even find challenges with the questions asked (see methodology below)…so, take these results with a grain of salt…but, I still found it interesting.

Some additional research findings from the Buy.com survey that may be of interest to you:

• if money were no object for a father’s day gift, 15% would want a boat or yacht
• When asked which “realistic” gifts were most desired, the gift of time ranked the highest – 20 percent of dads want more time with family, while other most-wanted gifts included a laptop/netbook/computer (12 percent), followed by a sports-related item (11 percent)
• 50 percent of dads would love a celebrity actress to deliver their gift
• 16 percent of respondents who described dad as “sociable and liked by everyone”
• Finally, 13 percent of Americans don’t usually give anything at all for Father’s Day

Survey methodology:
Toluna, Inc. fielded the study on behalf of Buy.com on May 18, 2011 via its online omnibus service, interviewing a nationwide sample of 1,035 adults aged 18 years and older. Data were weighted using propensity score weighting to be representative of the total U.S. adult population on the basis of region, age within gender, education, household income, race/ethnicity, and propensity to be online. Data for questions related to online use or behaviors were weighted specifically to the respective “online” populations. No estimates of theoretical sampling error can be calculated; a full methodology is available.

Dads – What do you want for father’s day?