While I often joke about the mom-centric attitude of my children, it’s definitely started to wear me down.

Every day I endure three kids going out of their way to remind me that mommy is superior. Just a bit ago, I stopped writing this to take my daughter to gymnastics. She began to whine and complain. My wife gave in, and here I sit, typing away, reminded I’m the lowest-ranking member of House Lemon.

Most of the time we don’t give in. My wife and I alternate duties, and the kids have to accept it. This doesn’t stop me from hearing about it, though. The kids who stay home with mommy cheer. The kid stuck with lame old dad mopes, whines, and generally makes sure I know I’m the least wanted. My brain can fully rationalize this reality, and I know it’s developmentally appropriate. I know if I wasn’t a stay-at-home dad, they’d likely be clamoring for time with me and less time with mommy. If I was more the pushover and less the rule enforcer, this parental pendulum might swing in my favor. My brain knows this, but my heart remains wounded.

It’s unfair to blame my kids, and it’s particularly unfair to blame my wife for being easy-going and generally more fun to be around. The blame here, if blame is the appropriate word, is upon me. I’m letting my lack of self-worth increase the sting of my kid’s choices. Maybe if my inner monologue wasn’t so negative, I’d have fewer feelings about the kids constantly choosing my wife over me.

I am consistently floored at how often my children are a mirror, reflecting the best and worst of who I am. Not just when their actions mimic mine, but it’s particularly illuminating when my reaction to them gives me previously unseen insight into who I am. Or, perhaps more accurately, who I’m not.

Maybe I’m weaker than I realize? Perhaps my kids are right and I’m the problem.

Or maybe.

Just maybe …

It’s them.

It’s all them!

Truth is, I’m rather fun. And, if the weather is just right, and my back isn’t being too grumpy, I’m downright delightful. Also, I’m not sorry for enforcing the rules. I’m not sorry for saying, “Yeaaaah, that’s a bad idea,” when my son is dangling over a dangerous precipice. Nor do I feel guilty stopping my daughter from getting too close to the dinosaur-infested waters of our local swamp (we live in Florida – it’s all swamp). I’m particularly not sorry for consistently steering the family away from bad decisions which I know will result in tears, meltdowns, fiery bedtime debates, or just general bedlam and reckless tomfoolery.

They can all suck it! It’s not me. It’s THEM!

Folks, we live in strange times. Times that are extremely difficult to navigate. Genders are fluid, fluids are filled with poisonous microplastics, and I’m just on the edge of being too old to adapt to any of it. Some men believe I’m too soft. Some men believe I’m too hard (be proud of the inappropriate jokes I’m omitting here). Everyone has a digital megaphone from which they can loudly judge the decisions and lifestyle choices of others, and here I am just trying to figure out how far I can let my kids ride their bikes from the house, knowing I’ll hear, “Well, Mommy lets me ride my bike in the street.”

Do I look like Mommy?

Sometimes resistance is a sign you’re on the wrong path. Other times, especially when assuming your natural role as a parent, resistance is a sign you’re doing something right. As parents, we have to be a little annoying. One of us has to be cool, because doing cool stuff is fun, and a little freedom goes a long way. But one of us absolutely needs to apply the brakes. Someone has to speak up, take the heat, and be the sopping wet blanket that ruins all the fun. Some call it balance. I just call it my genetic birthright to be the Gloomy Gus dialing everything back.

Hold strong my fellow parents. Don’t be afraid to be the annoying one, and perhaps most importantly, remember that on the gloomiest of days, when the kids have beaten your ego so bad not even a friendly shaman could help you find it: It’s not you – it’s them!

It’s always them!

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This blog post is part of the #NoDadAlone campaign. Fathering Together/City Dads Group, the National At-Home Dad Network, and Fathers Eve are joining forces to amplify messages that help dads recognize we are not alone! Follow #NoDadAlone on Instagram, and learn more at NoDadAlone.com.

Photo by Phil Nguyen via Pexels.

Few phrases my kids say break me down quite like, “Dad, I’m scared.” 

Most times, they say this about trivial things: the dark, their first soccer match, or an impending exam. My response comes easy in these cases. Usually, it’s nothing more than a pat on the head, a quick boost of confidence, and encouragement to keep trucking. 

When situations become more serious – like those my family experienced recently during Hurricanes Helene and Milton in Florida – parents have a massive responsibility.  The expectations for us to protect and serve our families rachets up immediately whether it’s a tornado warning, blizzard, a derecho, or, I suppose, a global pandemic. This is what I call “Disaster Daddin’.”

Disaster Daddin’ combines preparation and recovery. It boils down to one goal: to be the impenetrable force of stability for our loved ones. That does not mean we are not frightened or able to show vulnerability. No, this means that we embrace the family’s attention to get through the predicament together.

From our home in a suburb of Tampa, Fla., this month had me in Disaster Dad Mode far too often for my liking. 

While we were incredibly fortunate compared to others, helping my family get through a natural disaster taught me several important lessons in preparation and crisis parenting. 

1. Hurry causes worry

Every aspect of parenting through a disaster comes down to planning and preparation. A plan should not be hatched as all hell is breaking loose around you. If you have time to prepare, take it seriously. Work on it with your kids. This will not only distract them from the escalated concerns but also will help them when it’s time to execute it. Waiting until the last minute will stress the entire household out – especially the kids. Children are emotional sponges, easily sensing our stress and nervousness. 

Our disaster preparation before Hurricane Milton included my kids helping board windows on the house two days before the forecasted landfall.  At this point, this was more of a project than an emergency. My 12-year-old enjoyed the manual labor. This experience would have been far worse for everyone if done as a last-minute, “We need to do this NOW!”  situation. 

If the disaster does not provide adequate time to prepare, parents must step up. Your kids will pick up on the urgency and feel increased anxiety as a result.  Be aware that making unpredictable, last-minute decisions dials up household stress levels as go time draws nearer. 

2. Reinforce your responsibility to keep everyone safe

Whether you’re facing a hurricane or a blizzard, before the storm starts you should tell each family member this: “I would NEVER intentionally jeopardize your safety. Never.” 

When my family recently evacuated for Milton, I sensed my kids were nervous (if not fully freaking out) as we drove for hours to a spot my wife and I had determined to be safer. I acknowledged their fears while en route by telling them I was frightened, too. It became clear to everyone in the family minivan that we were in this together and that my wife and I would never take them toward anything deemed dangerous. 

3. Embrace spending time together in “old school” style

Disaster Daddin’ provides a great (if limited) way to do things with your children that have disappeared for many families. These include playing board games, coloring/drawing together or just talking. When we initially lost power, there was a 12-hour or so period where my teens were desperate to charge their phones. When it became clear that it might be a while before normalcy (i.e., electricity) would be restored, their priorities changed. 

From our powerless-but-safe hurricane crash pad, we played Uno, Sequence, charades, Pictionary and Scrabble together. Amazingly, even the teens were not constantly clamoring for TikTok or Snapchat (at least for a while). 

Disaster Daddin’ can provide the ultimate “back when I was your age” moment for parents. Assuming you remain safe, do not waste that unplugged time!

4. Celebrate your safety by helping others

For families that are relatively fortunate after a disaster, there is a tendency to return to normal as quickly as possible. My kids wanted to return to soccer practice and hanging with friends right away after Helene and Milton. While returning to our pre-disaster life was a priority, I did not want our kids to forget that some of our neighbors might not have such a luxury. 

As our area rebuilds, I’m encouraging my family to help in a way that suits them. For example, we had our kids reach out to their circle of friends to make sure they had (at least) what we did – food, water, clothes, etc. 

With our kids’ sense of community being mostly online now, the aftermath of a disaster allows us to reframe “us” to mean the people around us, not a YouTuber we connect to half a world away. 

Hearing “I’m scared, Dad” is the worst. I hope you never do. But, if you do (and you likely will), Disaster Daddin’ will help make your family stronger.

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This blog post is part of the #NoDadAlone campaign. Fathering Together/City Dads Group, the National At-Home Dad Network, and Fathers Eve are joining forces to amplify messages that help dads recognize we are not alone! Follow #NoDadAlone on Instagram, and learn more at NoDadAlone.com.

Photo by Juan Pablo Serrano via Pexels.

I was wearing my trusty Columbia rain jacket. The sound of the rain on the hood was nearly deafening. I reached up to tie the drawstrings, but the wind snatched the beaded strand from my hand and smashed the bead into my tooth.

My head arched back in pain. This allowed the relentless wind to catch the hood and yank it violently off my head. Lateral rain immediately pelted my face, stinging like sleet, but I was in Florida. There’s no sleet in Florida.

I was in knee-deep water. Angry clouds whirled overhead. Broken branches and random debris filled the air. A cacophony of sirens, exploding transformers, and howling wind echoed off the low, tumultuous cloud layer. I could taste a little blood in my mouth from the drawstring hitting my gums, and the sheer absurdity of being outside as a Category 3 hurricane made landfall was not lost on me.

Milton is entirely too gentlemanly a name for a hurricane that tried to remove my family from the earth.

Ultimately, I fought a dozen tiny battles with Hurricane Milton. I’m proud to say that, despite not being the most handy fella, I was victorious. Sadly, we lost our tallest tree. A beautiful, healthy Live Oak, towering well over 40 feet. Lying on the ground, it was still taller than my neighbor’s house. When the mighty oak toppled, it took a few of my water pipes with it, flooding my driveway and threatening my garage. That’s why I ended up outside in the thick of it.

The house, although without power or water, emerged unscathed. While the overturned oak stump has left a scar in my front yard (and even the road – oopsie), the real scars are within.

Voluntary evacuation not an easy decision

Why didn’t I evacuate my three kids? Good question. I found myself asking as the apocalypse raged just outside our 40-year-old, non-hurricane-proof windows.

The wind finally died down around 2 a.m. or so. I was watching the movie Sabrina (the black and white, old-school version) on my wife’s laptop. It was supposed to be The Karate Kid. My wife assured me she had downloaded my favorite movie. She hadn’t. This was perhaps the most damaging blow I experienced during the storm. The kids were asleep. My heart rate had finally settled. It had been a long seven hours of scary wind, and an even longer several days of preparation and planning.

It was over.

I know. I know. Get to the, “Why didn’t you evacuate,” part.

If you haven’t been through a hurricane, it’s easy to view the evacuation decision as binary: storm — bad, leaving — good. It’s truly way more complicated than that. My wife and I made decisions, had an evacuation plan, had a hotel room booked several hours away, but by the time the storm did a last-minute, pain-in-the-ass wobble, we were stuck. There wasn’t much choice. Just 10 to 12 hours earlier, we were outside the cone of uncertainty, and it looked like we would just have a rainy day. Man, that didn’t happen.

I’ll never forget my 9-year-old daughter, crying in the dark, “Daddy, why didn’t we go to the hotel?”

I have some full-on apocalyptic reasons for staying. A car full of supplies and kids is a rather soft target. A house is a hard target I can defend. That’s a little dark, but that was one of my reasons.

Another reason to stay is to be able to control as many variables as possible. At home, I know what I have. I know my supplies. I know my neighbors. I have my tools, etc. Once you leave, you deal with the most terrifying variable of all: panicked humans. Honestly, I’d much rather tangle with the hurricane.

We also aren’t in danger of storm surge or flash flooding. If we were, I would’ve been sipping maple syrup somewhere in Canada. No way I’m rolling the dice with water. Ironically, we almost flooded because of a burst pipe. Had I not been here to battle the water, our garage would’ve flooded, and possibly even the rest of the house. It was dicey there for a while.

Mostly prepared for hurricane

This was a good test of my disaster preparation. I was happy with some of it, but Milton exposed some gaps, which I’m grateful to have discovered. Considering we could drive 20 minutes north and have power and water, this really wasn’t the most dire experience, but seeing the ripple effects of no gas and empty grocery shelves in the area was a solid reminder of how fast things go sideways.

I was prepared for all that. The major thing I missed was the immense pressure of having three tiny humans, who have blind faith in me, trusting me to make the best decisions. It was up to me to keep them alive. It was up to me to have food and water. It was up to me to keep what we had protected. As a veteran of at least a dozen hurricanes, this burden was much heavier than I had previously experienced. The kids changed everything.

As parents, we don’t have the luxury of winging it. Sure, most of the time it’ll be fine. You’ll have what you need when you need it. A little slip-up is not a major deal, but life can happen fast. Really, really fast. I’d encourage any parent reading this to take some time, real, thoughtful time, ensuring you’re ready for life going sideways. Check your water supply. Check your food rations. Have batteries. Candles. Download movies on the kid’s tablets (double check on The Karate Kid for yourself). Whatever the disaster preparation is in your area, take it seriously. Stop winging it.

I promise you don’t want to ever hear a sobbing kid questioning your choices during an actual disaster. The feeling of failure will never leave you. Take some time to be prepared.

Start with the bourbon. Oh, and rum. Rum’s great in a hurricane. 

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This blog post is part of the #NoDadAlone campaign. Fathering Together/City Dads Group, the National At-Home Dad Network, and Fathers Eve are joining forces to amplify messages that help dads recognize we are not alone! Follow #NoDadAlone on Instagram, and learn more at NoDadAlone.com.

Photo by George Desipris via Pexels.

I spent three wonderful weeks on a family trip to Ireland this past August. When, like me, you have two young children with you, a trip like that isn’t exactly a vacation. It’s an adventure.

Travel puts a lot of stress on kids and families. So while there are sights to see, wonders to explore and memories to be made, there are also many hurdles to overcome. One important thing I learned on this trip is that no matter who or what you encounter while traveling, kindness matters.

I’m going to start with the end of the story. We returned home after an eight-hour flight from Dublin to Philadelphia. The time difference was a killer, and there was no food on the plane my kids were willing to eat. My daughter, age 5, sat next to me on that incredibly long, exhausting flight. She’d made it through the plane ride without too much fuss. However, by the time we gathered our baggage in Philly, the stress of the journey and the exhaustion of a three-week trip all came crashing together.

She screamed. She threw a massive tantrum in the terminal. Hungry and exhausted, the one thing my daughter wanted and needed was to hold my hand. I happily offered it despite trying to juggle suitcases. I understood how upset she was and I wasn’t mad at all.

Then a stranger approached us.

This woman marched straight to my daughter and me and announced in a booming voice, “You’re parenting all wrong. You need to beat some sense into that girl.”

WTF.

I didn’t curse. Instead, I told the woman she was wrong and to leave us alone. I was appalled. And angry. This stark, crazy scene felt like a “Welcome back to ‘Murica” moment for us. Because one thing we’d seen in Ireland was a completely different attitude toward children. One I was not accustomed to.

Kindness.

Changes of countries, changes of attitudes

Everywhere we went in Ireland, people bent over backward to be kind and help. It didn’t matter if we were at a playground, in a department store or on a street. People saw that we had kids and treated us with great empathy and compassion.

Two weeks before our encounter with rudeness upon returning home, we had an opposite experience. My 8-year-old son melted down on the streets of Killarney. He’d been refused a lollipop and decided that required staging a tantrum. He lay on the side of the parking lot near some pubs and refused to move. He screamed a bit too. And while my wife and I did our best to handle the situation, strangers came by.

“Is there anything I can do?” said one.

“Oh, I’ve been there,” said another. “So sorry for this, but it’ll get better soon.”

Kindness. Just an attitude of kindness everywhere.

Perhaps it is a cultural thing. Irish laws are different. We quickly noticed every indoor area designed for kids (such as soft play centers) came equipped with a double-locking alarm mechanism to prevent kids from running out or strangers from going in. We noticed every place we went, even the tiniest middle-of-nowhere towns, had handicapped-accessible unisex bathrooms with changing tables — something we once struggled to find in America. Perhaps this mindset toward a “care culture” transcended laws and permeated into the general public?

Kindness comes in many forms

As we explored Ireland, we kept encountering that same kindness again and again.

One restaurant had nothing the kids wanted to eat. The chef marched out, offered to make something just for them, and soon did.

Our kids appeared bored while we checked into one hotel. A worker spotted them and then hurried over with coloring books.

When we tried taking a tour that was sold out, a stranger offered us his tickets on the spot, noting that I had younger kids than he did.

These were not isolated incidents. They were a pattern of kindness and compassion and understanding that children have different needs, everywhere we went in the country.

Back to that moment in Philly. Perhaps that woman was an isolated example. Or perhaps not. I vented about her rudeness later to a friend in New York. My friend said that three times in the past month someone told her to beat her son. This advice came from strangers who didn’t know her or her kid. The expectation to some is that kid needs and adult needs are the same, therefore kid behaviors and adult behaviors are the same.

I’m no longer mad at the rude woman. I feel sorry for her. And I feel sorry for everyone else who thinks it’s appropriate to say such things to parents. In the future, I wish all people, parents and non-parents alike, would treat others with a bit more kindness.

The world could use some more of it right about now.

Photo by Yan Krukau via Pexels.com

My oldest was sick and pitching a fit. My youngest, also sick, was crying as she claimed, “I can’t breathe.” Meanwhile, my middle child was crying because, well, everyone else was crying, so why the hell not? Meltdowns, meltdowns, everywhere!

My wife and I made eye contact with one another. Then we both began laughing like The Joker hatching a grand plot to destroy Gotham.

Sometimes, the ship just sinks.

It’s no secret to any mom or dad that parenting is easily one of the hardest jobs in the world. Parents often feel out of control and ruled by their children’s whims. I’m not talking about bad discipline or poor parenting. Your kids hold your sanity and your very destiny, in some very real ways, in their hands – and I’m convinced they know it.

These moments of complete familial meltdowns felt like failure for a long time. Isn’t it my job to keep it all together? If I’m any good at this parenting thing, why can’t I always stop the kids from freaking out? Why can’t I calmly and rationally navigate the quagmire of endless variables to find a way to de-escalate this situation and bring peace to the family dynamic? Why?

Because, sometimes, the ship just sinks.

Meltdowns? Let ’em happen!

I’m not sure why that phrase has come to mean our home has descended into bedlam. Over the years, I’ve used the phrase to comfort myself. I visualize trying to save a cruise ship from sinking by bailing it with a cheap plastic cup. The phrase and visual remind me that no matter how hard you may try to keep everyone happy, you’ll eventually fail. On certain days, the kids conspire together to burn the universe down. Resistance to their assimilation is futile. Like any cleansing fire, you just need to let it burn.

Sadly, I’m not here to offer advice on how to avoid the ship sinking. I say let it sink.

Let the kids cry a bit.

Let them feel their feelings.

This is not an invitation for them to run like banshees down supermarket aisles. However, when at home, trying to forcibly restore order can be more damaging. It often prolongs the suffering. When all three kids were crying, and my wife and I chose to laugh, it quickly diffused the situation. Each child slowly calmed down. This allowed us to address their issues – if possible – and slowly, calmly restore order.

It would be great if I could smugly proclaim this has always been my strategy. I’m an order guy. I like to tell the kids what to do, and I often demand they obey with little to no complaints. (I bet you’re laughing. You should be laughing!) But in reality that doesn’t often happen. The wisdom contained in my words has emerged from the fiery cauldron of failure and chronic mistakes. Some sort of super-powerful parenting physics law comes into play here: Every forceful and ill-fated action taken by parents to restore calm is often met with an exponentially greater reaction to resist desired calm. You just read it on the internet, so it’s irrefutable science.

Sometimes failure is an option

If your home is often plagued by full-scale meltdowns, I’d understand if you have adopted a different strategy. My wife and I only occasionally experience our Chernobyl, so it’s a bit easier to surrender to the moment. If your family dynamic is more complicated, maybe there are too many fires to let burn, but I hope the following encouragement soothes the scars.

It’s OK. It’s all OK.

I’m not offering a participation trophy. I’m speaking truth. Sometimes, the ship just sinks, and that’s OK. You’re not a failure. Your children aren’t monsters (well some are, but surely not YOURS). We all fail to maintain full unit cohesion every now and then. They may be tiny and cute, but those damn kids are still just people. Sometimes people suck. Sometimes, there’s not much you can do but step back, let it all burn down, and be there with a hug to cool things off.

The next time your neck deep in a kid-generated flood, remember you’re not alone. All across the world, maybe even the universe, there are parents witnessing the full meltdown of their brood. Whether it’s a spaceship, a cruise ship or a battleship, sometimes the ship just sinks. Let it happen, and I’ll see you on the other side.

Unless your kids really ARE monsters. In which case, build a submarine.

Photo by Keira Burton via Pexels.

Editor’s Note: We’re digging into our ample archives to find some great articles you might have missed over the years. This one on setting limits with your child comes from 2010.

A friend of mine recently said parenting really starts when your baby becomes a toddler and starts to turn against you: resisting going to bed, testing what happens when they throw that very healthy food on the floor, and walking independently becomes climbing on the sofa, the coffee table, or the kitchen counter. (Check out our post on positive discipline.) I completely agree!

I attended an informative parenting discussion at the 92nd Street Y Parenting Center in Manhattan to educate and equip myself with more tools to face these challenges. Overall, I enjoyed listening to other parents vent their frustrations as well as share successes with limit setting. The key for me is to understand where to draw the line versus where to let things go. I don’t want to fight every battle and I don’t want to say “no” to too many things. As with teaching and learning, if we get things right in the early years, won’t it be easier to set limits later on?

There were so many key points shared throughout the night. The 92nd Y summarized many of them in their “suggestions to help with toddler behavior and setting limits.” Some are common sense, but together they form a nice roadmap to follow. Please take them more as food for thought than as rules to live by.

Setting limits for child behavior

• Think of discipline as guidance that helps toddlers in their ongoing behavior.

• Because they are changing and growing so rapidly, toddlers need rituals, routines, and regularity — they find this reassuring.

• Let them do things that they can do, even if it takes longer.

• Toddlers need limits to feel safe and cared for.

• Hitting and spanking doesn’t work. It shows kids that it is OK to hit and hurt people. Children will learn more from what you do than from what you say (actions speak louder than words).

• Reinforce positive behavior and try to ignore or discourage unsuitable behavior. “DISTRACT & REDIRECT” — offer substitutions and distractions in a positive way when possible.

• The limits you set should be clear, consistent and as few as possible.

• Make your environment as child-friendly as possible so you don’t have to say “no” all of the time.

• Toddlers don’t like big and abrupt changes. Give some advance notice when you will be changing an activity. Try to motivate them to the next activity by talking to them as you begin: “We’re leaving the park in a few minutes'” and then, “Let’s see what we can have for dinner.”

• Praise them when they follow your limits and encourage their progress.

• Keep bribes to a minimum. Sure, you may use the strategy on occasion, but the pattern can get out of hand.

• Don’t call children “bad” or “naughty.” It may hurt their self-confidence and they may learn to believe they are really “bad.”

• Toddlers learn a little bit at a time and need constant reminders.

• Tantrums are to be expected! Try to stay calm, consistent, reassuring and wait it out.

• Save “time outs” for rare occasions. Some parents don’t use them at all!

• KEEP YOUR SENSE OF HUMOR! In the heat of the moment, this one may be hard to keep in mind, but it is so important.

Photo: © luismolinero / Adobe Stock.

Spring. That time of year many of our thoughts turn to the idea of renewal. It is warm outside, greener, and more inviting. There is also a chance our fathering skills may need some renewal, too.

As our kids grow older, we need to take stock of our goals for us, for them, and spruce up our parenting skill set with a little spring cleaning. Here are four to start with:

Do the right thing by example

We have many examples in the news of people doing what they are allowed to for short-term gains at the cost of what is right long-term, be that economical, environmental or for the common good. Are we teaching our kids to do what is right? Do they know that just because they can do something that it doesn’t mean they should do it? Are they receiving an education in empathy from us?

This is a difficult lesson to teach, especially at the end of a long day when we just need them to go to sleep. No one ever said fatherhood was easy though.

Empathy is best modeled by behavior if your kids see your example they are more likely to copy it. Treat people (even your kids) the way you want to be treated and it will pay great emotional dividends.

Speak softly (so you won’t need to carry a big stick)

Discipline is one of those fathering skills that must be mastered, but not to the point that our kids fear us. My grandfather would always say, “What happens when you reach a decibel you can’t yell above?”

As fathers, we need to correct our children’s behavior and mold them into the good people we hope they become. As we do this we need to remember that we should be their “safe place. When they make mistakes, when they feel weak, when they hurt, we want them to turn to us and know that forgiveness and love will be found in us.

Give them freedom to make decisions

Kids can’t make good decisions if they are not allowed to make any. This means they are going to make bonehead decisions, too, but that is how experience is built.

There is always a part of me that tenses up when I let my kids go out the door, I have to fight that instinct to protect them from everything. My experiences have informed me and made me who I am. I must let them get out into the great big world and let them collect their own experiences, the ones that will inform them and make them who they are. The older they get, the more my role becomes cheerleader, comforter, and confidant.

Stay open to their needs and adapt

Parenting isn’t static. What worked last year may be outdated this year. The needs of a 3-year-old needs are different than those of an 8-year-old, a 16-year-old, or a 25-year-old. Are we adapting to their needs now or trying to apply outdated models to their new problems?

Auditing their needs and our fathering skills is an ongoing process for us. We must continually evolve as they do. The one thing that will remain constant (if we nurture it) is the line of communication between our kids and us. Making sure that line stays open is probably the most important thing we can do long-term as a parent. That way, we will have a better idea of, and be better prepared for, what comes next.

Do you have a fathering skills tip? Leave it in the comments below!

Photo: © Elena Medoks / Adobe Stock.

It shouldn’t be controversial to say an adult should never hit a child. That feels as reasonable as any statement could be, but a few might disagree. I can imagine eager fingers excitedly typing out varied scenarios and positing endless “what ifs” to find a way to work around this simple statement of fact: an adult should never hit a child.

Yet I’ve seen a spate of disturbing videos circulating on social media spaces of late. I’m disappointed these videos exist, but perhaps more disturbing is the reaction to them.

The videos depict adult, male teachers physically punching children. Each instance is a little different, but they follow a common formula. Student is misbehaving. Student is mouthing off. In short, the student is being a complete monster, and in one case, saying extraordinarily offensive things to the teacher.

In response, the adult, grown-ass male teacher physically attacks the student.

I’d like to think I’m pretty immune to the internet’s nonsense, but in this case, I find myself unable to shake the gross feeling these videos generate.

None of the behavior by the students is appropriate. Criminally underpaid teachers deserve honor and respect. The parents of these students have failed their kids. Past teachers have failed these kids. Society has failed them, too. And, yes, these kids do need to be taught a lesson. That lesson, however, should never be printed on the bony edges of a teacher’s knuckles – however smug that minor’s face may be.

Alpha Bros and toxic masculinity

I’ve been a father for a little more than 8 years. In all that time I have physically beaten my children zero times.

No swat on the bottom.

Not a pinch on the back of the arm.

Not even a slap on the wrist.

I never thought I would be that type of guy. My parents used minor physical deterrents to bad behavior, and I’m not traumatized, so I fully intended to use a similar strategy with my own children. When it came time to dole out corporal punishment, though, it never felt right. It didn’t make sense to hurt a child physically.

Have I gotten close? Sure.

Have I been beyond frustrated and had to assault an inanimate object? Yep – way more often than I’d like to admit.

But nowhere in me exists the desire to physically hurt my kids.

Part of me wants to dig into the teachers. I want to point out how weak and pathetic their actions are, but I’m capable of extending a little grace to these folks. These teachers have been through more in the last couple of years than I can fathom, and they finally snapped. I’m not excusing their actions, but I’m not looking to pile on. Their lives have been destroyed by these videos, and rightly so. I don’t need to add to that fire.

My issue is with the toxic masculinity crowd: The Alpha Bros sharing these types of videos to celebrate a child being physically dominated by a larger male.

This group of losers thinks it’s weak if a man kneels and hugs an angry child instead of screaming at him. These same folks think women are inferior. They behave as if any show of nonviolent emotion is a demonstration of weakness. They are desperate to be thought of as in charge and are likely to describe themselves as “an entrepreneur” while selling supplements online while living in their mom’s basement. These Alpha Bros have a 4Chan following, worship guns, and in general, have so little self-esteem, their only ability to feel good about themselves comes when celebrating the misery of others.

These are the trolls cheering on the teachers who physically attacked their students. They share these videos and talk about how soft society has gotten. “It’s good to see a real man finally standing up and doing something about it!” they type. In their world, a real man is one who is easily threatened by the words of an adolescent who poses zero physical threat.

If these are the hallmarks of a real man, I shudder to think how pathetic I am.

Define masculinity without the nonsense

I hug my children. I cried at the most recent episode of HBO’s The Last Of Us. My wife makes ALL the money. I must be pretty pathetic. I mean, how Beta is it to type angry words about all the big bad Alphas?

But you know what? I work on my own car – a German car, too. I mow my own lawn. Also, I use charcoal to grill large chunks of meat. I own firearms. I work out and even run ultra-marathons (OK, it’s been a while but still). My favorite sport is Mixed Martial Arts (MMA). But I also have an orchid collection and cry when Apple applies emotional music to rolling pictures of my kids. Soooo, there’s that.

Regardless of how we chose to define and measure masculinity and manliness, the pinnacle of manhood can’t be violence. A real man practices restraint. He knows the difference between wisdom and nonsense. These new Alpha Bros are devoid of wisdom and represent the worst of us men, not the best.

As fathers of the next generation, it is our duty to model healthy, masculine behavior. Yes, men do have specific needs. But there are healthy outlets for these feelings (sports, exercise, hard physical labor). Our job is to teach our young sons these healthy outlets. We need to point out the weak behavior of these imaginary Alphas, and lead with love and kindness.

Now, back to some MMA fights and my bourbon. I’ve had a long day of mending socks and cleaning the kitchen. This Beta life is brutal.

Photo: © Maria Sbytova / Adobe Stock.

Editor’s Note: We’ve been reviewing the 14 years of content compiled on this site to uncover some parenting pearls of wisdom that need to be rediscovered. This post about mastering certain parenting concepts was originally published in October 2010.

The recent at-home dads’ convention in Omaha, Neb., was chock full of content. One workshop inspired me the most, though — the feature presentation by Dr. Frank E. Bowers, a supervising psychologist at the Boys Town Behavioral Health Clinic, part of Boys Town Community Support Services in Nebraska, on “the most important job in the world,” fatherhood.

During Bower’s introduction, the audience was told we would “discover why the role of fatherhood is so critical to the success of our children and what we can do better at our job.” OK, you had me hooked!

This thought-provoking presentation revolved around the Top 10 Parenting Concepts to Remember. I will add that these concepts are just as appropriate for moms as well as dads. In fact, I would not be surprised if this passionate speaker, completes a similar inspirational presentation frequently to mothers groups.

Bowers describes the goal of parenting as “safe passage from birth to adulthood.”

So, let’s get down to the Top 10 Parenting Concepts:

1. Adult Think vs. Child Think

As parents, we need to constantly remind ourselves that we are talking to a child and they don’t think the same way we do. Their brains are not yet wired for the same logic we are. Set your behavioral expectations accordingly. Be a firm parent dad with a lot of structure.

2. Emotional Parenting (E-Line) vs. Purposeful Parenting (P-Line)

The aim here (without displaying the line graph) is that as parents we should work hard at hovering close to the “P” line — purposeful, powerful and proactive parenting — rather than hovering on the Emotional “E” line. This will result in a lot more “time in” with our kids than dealing with “time out.”

3. The Secret To Parenting…

The secret is to give our children what they want when they give you the behaviors you want. What do your children want the most? Your attention!

4. How We Learn?

A. Repetition – think about how you learned your multiplication tables.
B. Contrast – think 98.6 degrees vs. 350 degrees
Rule: The greater the contrast, the fewer repetitions needed.

The lesson from touching a hot stove (350 degrees) vs. touching another person (98.6 degrees) requires a lot less repetition to be learned. Therefore, you might have to keep telling your toddler to stop hitting other kids over and over again (lots of repetition). If you ever say to tell your child, “How many times do I have to tell you” … well, the answer is “at least one more time.”

5. Kids Want Structure

They won’t tell you this, but it helps tremendously.

6. Discipline is the Goal

Discipline helps create better behavior in the future. It is NOT punishment, which can be retroactive. Teaching self-discipline is key. For example, you cut your kid’s meat into small pieces so they can eat it with the hopes of modeling so one day they can cut their own food.

7. Set Them Up for Success

•  Provide adequate structure.
• Don’t “invite” them to lie. If you know they took a cookie from the jar, don’t ask them if they took the cookie when you already know the answer.
•  Make expectations developmentally appropriate.

8. Catch Them Being Good!

This one really resonated with me. We are constantly watching for negative behavior so we can pounce on it and correct it.  We should spend more time praising the behavior we want from our children. Therefore, give our kids more attention when acting appropriately than when doing something we disapprove of.

9. Be a Good Role Model

“A lesson is caught more than taught!” The example Bowers used was paying for a movie with your 13-year-old. If the price is lower for ages 12 and under and you tell your kids to say, “I am only 12” to save some cash, you are basically teaching your kid to cheat.

10. Enjoy Your Children

Every stage has its ups and downs.  At least I am on target with this concept — we are having a blast!

Some final food for thought:

• If you argue with your kids, you lose!  You bring yourself to a peer-to-peer level instead of parent-to-child dynamic.
• Sail on the high “SEAS” of parenting: consistent-sea (consistency) and persistent-sea (persistency)

You might think many of these concepts are common sense, but once you reflect a bit on your parenting style, there is plenty here to digest and improve upon. Now, I need to sign off and figure out how to parent closer to the “P” line so I don’t get so emotional and bent out of shape.

Photo: © anoushkatoronto / Adobe Stock.

Years ago, when my children were young and I was frustrated with them at a park, an older mother of teens said to me dismissively: “Little kids, little problems. Big kids, big problems.”

I have a request: don’t be that parent!

First, it doesn’t help the parent of young children. Second, each family is unique and may or may not experience more problems during the teen years, or “teenhood.” Third, such statements contribute to the unfair mythology about teenagers that Kenneth Ginsburg outlines in his new book, Congrats —You’re Having a Teen! Strengthen Your Family and Raise a Good Person.   

Ginsburg laments that so many books about how to raise a good teen are pitched as “survival guides.” This combination of dour books and “uninvited ‘wisdom’ offered from bystanders” means “far too many parents approach these years with dread,” he writes. In turn, “too many adolescents learn their stage of life is worthy of an eye roll and, worse yet, that they are disappointing their parents just by growing — a process they couldn’t stop if they wanted to.”

While Ginsburg acknowledges that parenting a teen can be challenging, he provides three ways for parents to approach their children’s teenhood with a healthier mindset:

1. Teenhood: Simply another stage of development

In many ways, teenhood is like toddlerhood. It’s a natural phase of child development in which the words “no” and “why?” return. But while toddlers test our patience, we tend to understand their antics as part of their development. So why don’t we apply the same understanding to our teens?

As Ginsburg explains, “It is an active decision — and one that preserves our relationships — to choose to place certain challenging aspects of our parent-teen relationships in the context of development.” For example, moodiness is part of a teen’s development of empathy and sensitivity. Challenging authority is “a critical step in their control over choices.” Their occasional rejection of their parents is also part of their growing independence and, as much as possible, should not be taken personally.

2. Parent teens with a long view

Parents should remember their children will be adults for far longer than they are teens. Ginsburg states: “When you are caught in the moments of parenting, it is easy to forget that you will eventually have an adult-adult relationship with your child for longer than you have an adult-child relationship with your teen.” So you want to focus more on values and personal qualities than on individual performances and grades.

He recommends parenting for the type of “35-year-old” you envision your child to become or for the “second job” your young adult might apply for in the future. As he explains, “once you realize you’re raising your teen to have the skill sets needed to land that second job, you’ll let out a deep breath of relief and begin parenting about the things you care about: social and collaborative skills. Love of learning. Curiosity.”

3. Express unconditional love for your teen

Even though teens can behave in ways that make parents wince, it’s important for parents to believe in their children’s “best selves.” Ginsburg explains that “when young people become more adult-sized, we stop appreciating the miracles of development or mistakenly believe teens need our feedback less.” But he recommends parents “continue to see their strengths” and notice acts of kindness and idealism.

One way for teens to nurture their “best selves” is through volunteering opportunities. Ginsburg notes that “adolescents who learn that they can make a difference in others’ lives or in the well-being of their communities gain a motivating sense of purpose. They receive reinforcing thank-yous instead of the low expectations too many teens endure. As they experience how good it feels to give, they’ll have less shame when they need to receive, because they’ll have learned that the giver does so not out of pity but out of purpose.”

Late in his book, Ginsburg highlights the two-way nature of teen development. As parents nurture their teens’ growth, the parents continue to grow as well, which can be deeply satisfying for everyone involved. He notes: “Teens want to know they are adding to your life. If you focus only on grades and good behaviors, then many teens apply too much pressure on themselves to fit into a mold of your making. When, on the other hand, you genuinely cherish watching them develop their interests and hone their values, they’ll know they please you by being their best selves. When you appreciate their sense of wonder and the rapid pace at which they are learning, you can allow them to be your teacher. They will relish knowing they are contributing to your growth.”

In other words, “big kids, big development” for the whole family. 

Raise a good teen photo: © LIGHTFIELD STUDIOS / Adobe Stock.