Fodder 4 Fathers

F4F IS MOVING TO A NEW HOME

2012-10-25T02:00:00.000-04:00

I have to say, I can’t believe it’s been almost two years since we started Fodder 4 Fathers. Ironically, when we started a blog called theevilthatyouknow@blogspot.com in the spring of 2010 we had no idea what we were going to do with it. Then my daughter was born, and everything just seemed to fall in to place. In the beginning, F4F was my place to make sense of this whole fatherhood thing, but over time more and more people started to like what I had to say, and, well, things just seemed to happen from there. Our blog has been read all over the world, by parents, parenting experts, grandparents, caregivers, and non-parents alike. It’s not something we planned. It’s just a pleasant surprise- the fact that people actually take notice of what a dad has to say about parenting. Personally, I never saw myself as a role model (I’m possibly the most fallible person I know) but I do love my kid, and I think being a dad is the best job in the world. And, if that makes me noteworthy in any way, well, I guess I can live with that.

As a public persona, an entity much bigger than ourselves (ourself?), we’re proud of what we’ve created. What started out as means to educate ourselves on parenting has taken on a life of its own and become a kind of symbol for the New Dad – the strong, not-so-silent type that won’t take a backseat to anyone when it comes to parenting his children. Our blog has paved the way for our fantastic Facebook community page where both dads and moms can come together and talk about parenting, as equals, with humor and sensitivity and civility. And our message is reaching places we could never have imagined.

So what’s next for Fodder 4 Fathers? How do we grow this thing to reach more and more people; more and more involved dads (and moms) who want a place that they can turn to for help and advice and a sense of community?... We move to a bigger home.

On Thursday November 1^st, 2012, http://theevilthatyouknow.blogspot.com (a.k.a. Fodder 4 Fathers) will no longer exist, and we will be moving to our new home at www.fodder4fathers.com - our newest "baby." What began as a blog will now be the headquarters for forward thinking dads who want to be the best fathers that they can be. Oh, don’t worry, F4F.com will still bring you the same old brash and ballsy blog posts you’ve come to love, but we’ve coupled it with one of the best resources for fathers (new and old alike) on the Internet. We took the old saying “Go big or go home” literally and created the Ultimate informational website for dads by adding more links, product reviews, guest bloggers, commentary, contests, and suggestions than any single dad blog could ever hold.

We’re not changing our philosophy. Our goal is still the same: Leave No Dad Behind. We just needed a bigger place for all their stuff…

Thanks to all our fans, we couldn’t have made it this far without you and we hope you’ll join us at our new home and help us to spread the word about fodder4fathers.com The Ultimate Resource for Dads.

As always, you rock!

Adam C. Dolgin

Founder and President

Fodder 4 Fathers - “Where Great Dads Go to Get in the Know.”

Fodder Up! Dads - Protecting Your Children from Sexual Abuse

2012-10-11T01:29:00.000-04:00

When I started this blog it was with the intention of educating myself about the ins and outs of what it truly means to be a “great” dad. I didn’t have the best role model in my own father. He wasn’t what you’d call hands on, but having said that, I have no doubt that he loves me in his own, call it misguided way. He wasn’t the ideal dad, and I’ve come to accept that not every dad is meant to be an exceptional father, but to his credit, on his worst day, my dad wasn’t half as bad as some of the fathers you read about in the newspapers: the abandoners (not a word), the abusers, the abhorrent assholes who would sexually mistreat their own child. My father was a failure in many ways, but when it came to protecting his young children from the evils of the world, my dad never let me down, and it’s sad to think not every child can say the same.

It’s time to Fodder Up! and educate yourself on what you can do as a father to ensure that you are doing everything in your power to ensure that no harm comes to your child, by your hand, a family member’s hand, a caregiver’s, a teacher’s, or a stranger’s. It is a father’s job to protect the innocence of his child for as long as it is humanly possible. It is a dad’s job to preserve the light that each and every child exudes, ensuring that, on your watch, no one will take the beauty or the wonderment of a happy childhood away from your little boy or girl.

We all know the films; movies with scenes where a father has to take vengeance on those who have harmed his little girl. Films like Death Wish or A Time to Kill where fathers merely react and inflict pain on those who have committed horrific acts against their children. Or films like Sleepers, where little boys cry out for their dads in the middle of the night as their abusers rob them of their innocence, and, more often than not, the fathers never find out. These are only movies, and as frightening as they may be, reality is ten times scarier.

So what can you do? Lock up your children? Only leave them with people you trust? Well, who do you really trust with your child? Statistics say if a child is going to be abused it’s not going to be by someone they’ve never met before, it’s going to be by someone close to them like a parent, a grandparent, a family friend, a coach, or a babysitter. It’s time to prepare yourself for the realities… 1 in every six children will be sexually abused. How do you prevent this from happening to your child?

A.    STATISTICS: (source: www.turningpointservices.org )

It is estimated that as many as 40 million Americans, one in six people, experienced sexual victimization as children:

• 1 in 4 girls and 1 in 7 boys will be sexually victimized before age 18.
• The most common ages of children when sexual abuse occurs are between 8 and 12.
• Child sexual abuse is seldom a one-time occurrence, and lasts and average of 1 to 4 years.
• 75% to 80% of all children assaulted or abused were victimized by someone they knew.
• One of five rape victims is under age 12; 10% of all are under age 5.
• Over 80% of offenders first offended by the age of 30 years.

B.    ARTICLE: CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE: WHAT PARENTS SHOULD KNOW
C.    ARTICLE: COMMON MYTHS ABOUT CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE -
D.    ARTICLE: PREVENTION: TEACHING ‘GOOD’ TOUCH VERSUS ‘BAD’ TOUCH
E.    ARTICLE: HOW TO PROTECT YOUR CHILD FROM PREDATORS
F.    ARTICLE: WHAT TO DO IF YOU THINK YOUR CHILD HAS BEEN MOLESTED :

Talking to your child

Responding to your child’s claims of abuse

Supporting your child through the process of proceeding forward (Note: I found this information helpful, even if it has its biases...based on statistics).

The truth is all you can do is your best when it comes to protecting and educating yourself and your children against sexual abuse at the hands of someone they know. But an ounce of prevention and being proactive in knowing the signals to look for may mean all the difference.

We all want our children to be safe. Arm yourself with the tools to ensure your child won't become just another statistic.

- Fodder 4 Fathers

"Leave No Dad Behind"

Related Links:

Sheldon Kennedy Talks About Sexual Abuse - Interview
True Story of Child Sexual Abuse

The Fears of a Father: Awaiting the Birth of a Second Child

2012-09-21T00:29:00.002-04:00

Seven more weeks (give or take) until the birth of my son, and it’s starting to sink in: I’m about to be a father of two. They say having kids doesn’t really affect dads until the birth of their second child- something about there being nowhere to hide and dads having to step up and be accounted for- but I’m pretty sure I’ve proven I’m about as involved as a father can get. But, that’s not to say my life won’t be in for some changes, big ones at that.

Most parents will say they are blessed. In fact, anyone with a healthy and happy child should see themselves that way, but I think I’ve been really lucky when it comes to my first born child. My daughter has been nothing but a joy since the day she was born. From the day we brought her home from the hospital she has made my introduction to parenting a breeze. I mean, who has to wake up an infant for feedings, or pinch them to see if they are actually capable of crying (because she never did)? Who is so lucky that they can just place their baby in their crib and within seconds she’s asleep? Who has a child that spends her entire day giggling, and laughing and entertaining herself, so much so that you feel like you’re just an observer and she’s pretty much raising herself?

Well, me. I’m the lucky guy with the easiest kid on the block (for now). And for that reason, and possibly that reason alone, the thought of having a second child scares the crap out of me.

Maybe lightning will strike twice, and I’ll have two easy going kids? But, honestly, what are the odds of that? You and I both know I’ve had it so easy with my little girl that I’m about to get the rudest awakening a parent can get- I don’t know sh@# about parenting. I’ve never had to sleep train a baby. The kid literally used a pacifier for a week, found her thumb and that was the end of it. I’ve never had to rock a child to sleep, or soothe a colicky baby, or call a sleep doula in the middle of the night and offer them ten times their normal fee to leave someone else’s house and get their ass to mine. The truth is I’ve never suffered the way other parents have suffered. I’ve never endured the way other parents have endured. I got off light (as far as infants and toddlers go). I got the kid other parents were dreaming about every time they were awoken from R.E.M. sleep to a wailing child demanding a feeding. But all bets are most certainly off now. I have a feeling I’m about to learn the hard way that no two kids are alike.

The countdown is on. 7 weeks to go. My wife can’t wait to get this one out of her. He’s always in perpetual motion- kicking, or tossing, or punching her insides- and there’s no way that’s going to stop once he’s out. This one’s going to make us work for it. He’s going to be the one who keeps us up at night, as both an infant and a teenager. I can just feel it. If my daughter’s been a godsend, this one’s making his way from somewhere else and you can be sure I already have a nanny, a doula, a priest (yes, that’s an Exorcist joke) and every single member of my entire family on call to lend a hand when he starts to make me wish we left well enough alone and kept my daughter as an only child.

I hope for the best, but I’m preparing for the worst. I hear all the horror stories. I know all the tales about kids who make their parents go grey… the first week after they’re born. I’ve read about newborn “terrorism” and infants that hold entire households hostage with their incessant crying, and wailing and wanting of things like being fed on demand and being comforted 24/7. I don’t know from this. I’ve been spoiled. Hell, my 2-and-a-half-year-old daughter says she needs to go to the bathroom, then leaves the room, does her business, and returns without me even needing to get off the couch- she even sprays. What am I going to do with a kid that actually needs to be- dare I say it-parented?

But maybe I’m just freaking myself out? Maybe I’m overreacting? He could come out and be perfectly content. He might even be better than my daughter.… Yeah, who am I kidding? That’s impossible. I’m f@#%ed, and I know it!

7 more weeks and counting. I’m not worried in the least…

Related Links:

The Real Difference Between Boys and Girls - Parenting,Com
Birth of a Second Child- KidsHealth.Org

Being Democratic Where Dads Are Concerned: When Child Care and Politics Don't Mix

2012-08-30T23:44:00.002-04:00

It’s funny when discussions concerning politics aren’t politically correct. Take this article from The Huffinton Post (Battle Over Child Care Gets Personal for Democrats, Lisa Belkin, August 28,2012) discussing the various childcare needs of American political parties (well, the Democrats anyway) as they prepare to travel the country promoting their political agendas. It seems that those in politics, and those who make a living talking about it, still don’t grasp the fact that in 2012 childcare is a “parenting” problem, not a “mom” problem. No one gets it- not the politicians, not the lobbyists, and certainly not the feminists.

Hey people, dads exist, and we all know they vote… even the ones who stay at home and take care of the kids, or the ones who travel with their spouses and take care of business (bottle feeding, changing diapers) while their spouses work the floor. It’s an insult to us whenever you refer to something as important as caring for our offspring as a “mom” problem. But, I guess it is when society still wants to put the entire burden of raising a child on a mother’s overburdened shoulders. Dads don’t want to burden moms, we actually want to take our rightful place as equal partners in the parenting arena, but some people still don’t want to recognize our right to call ourselves primary caregivers, and that’s going to be their down fall.

The world is changing people. Dads like caring for their kids and we don’t like people telling us that we don’t even register for them when they think of things like child care. We’re an afterthought, an anecdote, a joke. Well, we’re not laughing, and neither are our wives, or the millions of other moms who feel it’s time to recognize the hard work of great dads everywhere; men who would stay at home to raise their kids, or take paternity leave, or rush home after work to feed, and bath and change their children. These are the men our society needs. These are the role models our children need. We should be embraced by society, not ignored.

Who would have ever thought that a word like “parent” would be a dirty word for some people (those who would like to discount the value of dads)? Not me. I always thought dads were making headway. I thought we were showing ourselves to be involved, and loving it. I thought we would be recognized for our efforts. I guess not- not in politics, not in society, not in our lifetime. We are second class citizens, and it’s time to accept the only way we’re going to be recognized for our efforts is to make our presence known.

So carry your baby and carry him proudly. Change a diaper on the floor! Feed your child on a park bench for all to see. Show the world dads are not to be discounted. If people don't get that we're in this for the long haul and we're parents too, f@#% 'em. If we can't sway public opinion or get people to recognize our efforts, let's focus on what really matters, the people who matter most- our kids. At the end of the day, they're confidence in us, they're recognition of our efforts is all that really matters.

And well, who cares what politicians think... they're all full of sh@3 anyway.

Settling in to Fatherhood The Only Way I Know How

2012-08-13T00:31:00.000-04:00

Why is it whenever a baby comes out of one orifice a million people’s heads go in to another? Does no one get it by now- moms don’t have the market cornered on caring for newborns anymore, and it’s time the rest of society clued in to that fact. Dads are doing it for themselves, and the only thing holding us back isn’t ourselves, it’s the antiquated beliefs of those who would have you believe moms are the perfect parents that perpetuate a myth. It’s time to get your heads out of the sand (or your asses) people. It’s a brand new world, and dads, contrary to what you think, aren’t here for your amusement.

Take this gem forwarded to me from a fan. It’s from a handbook handed out to moms in a Texas hospital and it speaks volumes about the world some people are still living in. Sure, there are new dads out there that are about as useful as Bull in a China Shop, but I don’t speak for them. I speak for the millions of dads who when handed their child for the first time run with the ball (baby) with the best of us; the dads who don’t miss a beat when it comes to getting right in there to be the first to change a diaper, or feed a bottle, or get out a burp. I speak for dads you couldn’t pay enough to stay out of a delivery room; dads who are in it to win it and want to be the best f-ing parent you’ve ever seen.

Yes, history would tell you that moms are the more nurturing parent; the more adept at caring for a newborn baby. But history would also tell you that moms have no place in the military, the boardroom or the White House. We all know that’s bullshit, so why are we okay to say that dads need extra “handling” when it comes to caring for their own offspring. Have we not moved past this kind of old world thinking? How many little boys have to ask for an easy bake oven or a Barbie before you realize that men can be born to be nurturing too (even if we also like to blow up sh@#)? Hey, we stopped beating left-handedness out of kids years ago. Isn’t it time we stop beating IN gender stereotypes as well?

I’m a man. I like male things, but when it comes to raising my little girl, no one, and I mean no one does it better. I’m Florence Frickin’ Nightingale (or is it Henderson?). My wife isn’t some all-knowing, child-bearing god. She’s my equal partner in the most important job either one of us will ever have. And guess what… that’s the way it should be! Anything she can do I can do equally (except give birth or breastfeed a child) and we pride ourselves on that. She’s never had to leave me a long list of things to do with the baby when she left the house and I’ve never had to totally disregard it. It’s the way parenting was meant to be.

But (and this is for all the moms out there who think the above excerpt from a handbook provided by a Texas hospital is funny) you keep allowing certain segments of society to belittle a dad’s role in parenting and we’ll see how far you get out of the hospital before you realize just how screwed you really are. You want to feel alone, really alone, then realize your attitude towards men/dads has just sentenced you to a lifetime of caring for your children with little to no help from the one other person who could in fact make your life sooooo much easier.

Ladies, wouldn’t it be nice to have your husband take over all child care duties at a moment’s notice… without you having to ask? Wouldn’t it be nice to just leave your house without having to worry that you’ve had to leave your child in the hands of someone who has no clue what they’re doing (because you’ve never given him the chance to prove himself)? Wouldn’t it be nice to know that the person you deemed worthy to marry and impregnate you is also worthy of caring for your offspring? I’m sure it would be, and the only thing stopping this from being your reality is YOU (well 90 % of the time; we still accept that about 10 percent of dads are dolts- it’s a fact).

So let’s get off the high horse shall we. Just because dad didn’t sit on the nest for 9 months and push out an egg the size of a party Sandwich from Subway doesn’t mean he can’t nurture it once it’s been de-goo-ified (my word) by a nurse, or a midwife, or a cab driver. We’re not running from our responsibilities. If anything, this kind of old world thinking is pushing us away, but we’re trying our best to ignore it, and you, so we can do what we were meant to do- be great dads to our kids, whether you f-ing like it or not.

How’s that for settling in to my responsibilities as a f-ing father!?

End rant.

The Funny Side of Fatherhood

2012-08-08T01:01:00.003-04:00

They say humor is the number one attribute women look for in a man. We all know that’s bullshit, but I’m going to take that at face value and run with it here. We all know humor won’t pay the bills, or get you a nicer house with a bigger yard (unless you’re Ray Romano), or stop your mother-in-law from asking those annoying, prying questions like “are you okay for money?,” but it will get you through the day, and sometimes that’s all a woman needs when she’s knee deep in diaper changes, and baby puke, and the daily stresses of caring for a child, or worse, children.

Gentlemen, your wife needs a clown, a competent clown who can clean up after himself, and cook, and change diapers too, but a clown none-the-less. Your job- long after your good looks have waned and your 24” pythons (big biceps) have turned into gelatinous goose flesh- is simply to entertain. Sure, a good job is nice, and she’d prefer if there was more hair on your head than in the sink, but at the end of the day when she’s tired and she wants to send all of your offspring to live in the Circus, the most important thing in the world to her is your sense of whimsy- because it’s the only thing that will keep her sane (other than a bottle of wine and a bubble bath).

“Laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry and you cry alone” they say. I don’t know what that means, but if understanding it means you don’t have to sleep on the couch, fake it. Laugh dammit, and make your wife laugh too. Kids draw on your walls? Get a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser, and laugh. If your wife gives you 10-month-old daughter peanut butter for the first time and her gag reflex causes her to throw up all over your Mother-in-law, laugh. And when your wife gives your daughter a second scoop of Peanut Butter just to make sure she’s not throwing it up because she allergic to it and she projectile vomits on your Mother-in-law again, laugh harder. It’s your job.

Wife calls you in to the bathroom when she’s giving your 18-month-old daughter a bath because your little girl took a dump in the tub? Laugh. Can’t stop laughing when your wife’s gag reflex kicks in because she can’t stand the sight of a floater, laugh longer; laugh harder. She may hate you in the moment, but long after she takes your daughter out of the tub and you’re still trying to fish it out with a goldfish scoop, she’ll get the joke, and the world will be a better place.

And remember, it’s okay to laugh at yourself too. Took your 2-year-old daughter to pee on the toilet only to realize she already soiled her underwear with something way worse than urine, and you just inadvertently touched it – laugh. Stupidly let your daughter hold her own bowl of spaghetti and meatballs and she threw it all over the floor – laugh. Forgot to put a diaper on your daughter during her nap while she was potty training and she woke up because her bed was soaked in urine and you’re the only one home to both calm her down and strip the bed so you can wash her sheets – laugh. It’s your best quality after all. It’s the quality that told your wife that even though you weren’t ever going to be CEO of a fortune 500 company, you would at least make an awesome dad.

When you plan and God laughs, embrace it. He’s not laughing at you, he’s laughing with you, and all you need to do is keep on smiling and the world will be your play thing. Shit will happen. Children will inevitably destroy all that you hold dear, but if you can keep it together, and more importantly keep your wife from losing it, you’re a winner.

So here’s to all the fat, aging, balding dudes- or dads, if you will- coming to terms with their true value. Your sense of humor may not be the number one thing that got your wife hooked on you in the first place, but it’s certainly the glue that’s keeping her sane as you live out the American Dream of duel incomes, 2.2 kids and a white picket fence.

Aren’t kids grand?

A Dark Night Indeed: Making Sense of the Batman Movie Massacre

2012-07-25T02:18:00.004-04:00

I think we can all agree: the world is very different place than it was when we were growing up. With technology advancing at a breakneck pace and the planet getting smaller and smaller (figuratively), it gets harder and harder to shelter our kids from the harsh realities of life and the real monsters that go bump in the night. But we try.

To many of us the world doesn’t makes a lot of sense, but to keep our children innocent, to preserve what small semblance of a childhood our children have left, we must try our very best to make rhyme and reason of those events that would have us all hiding under our covers, to help both our children, and ourselves, sleep well through the night. But it’s not often easy, as some things cannot be explained. Some things make no sense at all. Some things cannot be wished away- no matter how we try.

What makes a man prey on innocent victims in the darkness? What prompts him to put on a bulletproof vest and a gas mask? What possesses him to arm himself with smoke bombs and semi-automatic weapons and start picking off patrons in a packed movie theater when there was no escape? I don’t know. What makes a man enter an auditorium and open fire on helpless people- men, women and children- without a second thought? What makes him feel nothing as they run, and scream and hide? I cannot imagine. What overcomes someone so strongly that they feel that they need to kill the innocent to immortalize themselves? I have no explanation, but still we- you and I both- have to make sense of it all.

The Batman Movie Massacre, as it has been called, is one of the most gruesome mass shootings in U.S. history- 12 dead and more injured than could fit inside two large school buses. It is a sad day for America, the injured, the families, and the world. A man took the lives of the innocent, and in doing so he took away our innocence. But you can’t let him win.

A man entered a theater with the intent of taking away the hopes and dreams of a nation. He set out to destroy the memories of our childhood, and a hero that made us believe that good would always prevail. He wants us to fear the darkness, and to keep us in the “safety” of our homes. He wants us to believe that there is nowhere for us to hide, but he’s wrong. We don’t need to hide at all.

As a man I am saddened by the events that occurred on Friday July 20^that a packed theater in Aurora, Colorado. As a North American I am disheartened by what I see on the daily news. But as a Father I will not hide. I will live my life and teach my children to do the same so that these kinds of sadistic acts- against all of us- do not get rewarded with fear. Colorado will recover (we pray) in time, so will America, and so will the world from this most heinous of acts.

Evil will not win. The villain, the coward, the weak and feeble-minded fiend who feeds on our nightmares is not to be feared, he is to be pitied as he is the ultimate loser, for he is truly lost…while we still have our heroes. They are everywhere. Don’t let one man’s callous act make us forget that there is good in the world. We need them. Our children need them.

FODDER OF THE WEEK: WHY PACKING AWAY OLD BABY CLOTHING SHOULD ONLY BE DONE BY THE STRONG

2012-07-10T00:50:00.003-04:00

Now, I’m not a crier, and few would choose to call me sentimental, but there’s something about sorting through old baby clothing that makes even me choke up a little. Call it nostalgia (for something that just happened two years ago) or longing for a simpler time (when all my daughter did was poop and drink from a bottle), but sifting through old baby clothing just makes you, well, sad.

Sure, I didn’t do the sorting, and maybe I slept through about half of it, but I watched my pregnant wife go through our daughter’s old clothing to pack it away for what appears to be forever (we’re expecting a second child, a boy, and we’re not planning on having any more), and it reminded me of all the good times we had together.

I mean first there was the fun of buying the clothing. I’m talking of course about all the clothing we (my wife and I) actually purchased on our own, not the horrific hand-me-downs or the 5 dollar reject bin specials that people bought us as gifts (although we did get some really nice stuff too). There was the 0-3 pink Superman onesie I picked out for my daughter the day we brought her home. There was the Purple tennis dress I got her that my wife showed off to all her friends because she couldn’t believe her husband “actually picked it out… himself.” There were the little booties, and hats, and leggings and sunglasses we purchased that got worn only once, but sure looked great in all the pictures we took. There were sleepers that got worn repeatedly because we each had our favorites that we liked to dress her in. And there were the “ensembles” that got buried at the bottom of the bottom drawer which still had their tags on because we never got around to using them.

There was the fun of showing off the clothing as well- taking pictures to send to family and friends each time we came up with a new combination of pants and tops and toe socks. There was the fun of one upping the other (between my wife and I) to see who could come up with the outfit that got the better reviews (I had my fair share of wins). And there were the arguments over when and where the lavender, sparkly Batman shirt with the white sleeves could make an appearance (usually not at my Mother-in-laws house).

And I guess there’s a fun aspect to packing it all away- knowing that these tiny articles of clothing carry so many great memories even if they’ve out-lived their usefulness (for your child anyway). It’s sad to see them go; to see them packed away in a cardboard box, or a plastic tote, or one of those vacuum bags that were all the rage back in the 90’s. It’s just really sad- sad to realize how much money you wasted clothing a newborn that really would have been happy spending her day in a white onesie and socks and wrapped in a blankie.

Man, are new parents stupid.

But baby clothing is really cute. Not that I’m sentimental or anything.

F4F'S 5 TYPES OF DELIVERY DAY DADS

2012-06-27T02:03:00.000-04:00

"Nice."

On the eve before I find out the sex of my second born child (still baking in the oven), I'm looking 4+ months down the road to delivery day. I'm excited, to be sure, but it's been so long since the birth of my first child that I'm not so sure how I'm going to react when our newest addition makes his/her entrance in to the world.

The first time around I was calm, cool and collected (i.e. I didn’t cry and I kept my wife focused on the task at hand). This time around, I'm a little older, a little wiser, and a whole lot sappier having taken to fatherhood like I never imagined I would. Who knows if I'll be able to keep it together like I did the last time? All I know is when you're in a room surrounded by the sights and sounds of a new life entering the world and emotions are running wild, and the excitement and anticipation is welling up inside of you, anything is possible.

Now, we've taken it upon ourselves and done some research (well, we read a lot of dad blogs) and according to our findings there are five possible reactions a father can have during the birth of a child. We don't judge, but it goes without saying that some are preferable to others, but everyone's different and just the fact that you, the dad, gets to be in the delivery room is a blessing so we won’t make TOO much fun of our blogging bredren.

Here we go! This is F4F's Top Five Types of Delivery Dads (in no discernible order). We’ve got the criers, the fainters, the mumblers (See Rocky II) and the screamers. This is arm chair quarterbacking at its finest, and it ain’t even Super bowl Sunday.

1. The "Acceptance Speech" Dad:

This is the dad who grabs the baby right out of the obstetric nurse’s hand and goes straight in to thanking everybody in the room, except his wife: “Doc, great job buddy, we couldn’t have done it without you… The Nursing Staff, the Anesthesiologist, the guy I paid twenty bucks in the hallway to film it… you all get honorable mention… The baby! Man, without you, I mean why are we all here? Am I forgetting someone? Oh, yeah, the intake nurse, all the people I met in the waiting room, the vending machine down the hall… you’ve made this the happiest day of my life!”

2. The "Heisman Winner" Dad:

This is the dad who takes the ball (err, baby) and runs with it… right out of the delivery room. He blocks his way past the nurses in to the hallway, he fakes out his parents and in-laws and heads straight for the end zone (anyone who will listen to him). He screams: “We did it! We did it!” He sings “We are the Champions, my friend….”He runs up to strangers and holds out the baby: “Do you see her? Do you see her? That’s my new little girl…bitches!!!” He holds the baby over his head and does a victory lap up and down the pediatrics ward going “It’s a miracle! It’s a miracle!” …only stopping to answer his cellphone when it rings in his pocket. “Hello?” he says, his angry wife on the other end of the line. “Oh, it’s you… yeah, I know you’re the mother, but… but… Yes, I’ll bring her back.” (Kicking the air, he looks down at the baby) “She’s no fun.”

3. The "There's Something in My Eye" Dad:

Here we have the dad who is shy about showing any emotion and will go to any lengths to prove that he has not she a single tear. “What are you all looking at? I wasn’t crying. There’s something in my eye.” Or, “I’m not crying! My tear ducts must be clogged or something… Its sweat from holding my wife’s leg in the air… its amniotic fluid that must have shot across the room!” No one buys it, but he keeps trying his best to convince everyone- his wife, his mother-in-law, the guy holding the pan waiting for his wife’s placenta to drop- that the big, strong dad isn’t capable of crying because he’s “the man.” Dude, next time why don’t you just use the excuse every other guy uses- that your wife hurt your hand when she squeezed it during her contractions. Real men cry, you pansy! (Sobbing) “But it really hurt.”

4. The "Money Shot" Dad:

This is the dad that gets up close and personal, no matter how many times his wife wails for him to stop.

Husband: “Honey, I can see the head…”

Wife (gritting her teeth): “I told you to stay at my shoulder…”

Husband, touches the crowning baby: “You should feel this… it’s gooey.”

Wife: “Get your ass back up here…”

Husband (puts on gloves, pushes the doctor out of the way): “Don’t worry sweetie, I got this…”

Wife (bears down to deliver the baby): “Get Away…” (kicks him in the face)

Husband (lying on the floor): “Honey, look, it’s a boy!”

Doctor: “Umm, that’s the baby’s nose…”

Husband: “Cool.”

5. The Instant Replay Dad:

This is the guy who relives the entire birthing experience ad nauseum much to his wife’s chagrin.

“Hey honey, remember when the doctor came in and stuck that big needle in your back? Wasn’t that cool? And when the doctor put your legs in the stirrups and felt around in there… I got chills… did you get chills? Ohhh… what about when he had to stick his forearm in there to turn the baby’s head? That was AWESOME! And the 30 hours of contractions… and the screaming… and that time when you said: “Shut the f@#k up Larry”… am I the only one who loved that? And sure, the baby being born, that was cool, but when you delivered the placenta and it looked like that time I ordered Haggis in Scotland… that was so wicked!”

This is also the guy who is lucky that his wife is needs him for a ride home, otherwise she’d rather just divorce his ass in the hospital. Note to self: "When the baby's born... zip it!"

...And there you have it, a “close” look at the 5 types of Delivery Room Dads- F4F style.

Which one are you?

Related Links:

"NO ONE PUTS BABY IN A CORNER": WHAT TO USE WHEN TIME-OUTS AREN'T CUTTING IT

2012-06-21T23:47:00.001-04:00

If there’s one law I live by its Murphy’s Law: simply put, “whatever can go wrong will go wrong.” It’s how I keep my sanity as a parent. I don’t expect everything to run like clockwork because- the truth is- it rarely ever does. Children are unpredictable. They are wild cards. They change from minute to minute without a seconds notice and this keeps you constantly on your toes.

Some parents accept this and try to their best to anticipate meltdowns before they happen. Others try to correct meltdowns after they happen. Regardless, tantrums, “bad” behavior and insolence come with the territory and you have to deal with them. Now, I know, dealing with a screaming, whining, demanding child is more than most parents of young children can handle, but I’m not so sure sticking them in a corner, hoping their “bad” behavior will go way is really the best way to discipline a young child.

I’m talking about Time-outs. I’ve tried them on my daughter, they don’t work for me. Now, I know what you’re going to say, “You’re probably not doing it properly,” but I’m not the only one who has tried to use this method of discipline on my little girl to no avail. Hell, my daycare provider says my daughter holds the record for the number of time-outs in one day (9) and all that says is maybe my daughter’s not “time-out” material.

No, I’m not going to use corporal punishment on her. I had it done to me as a child and I know it just made my resolve to piss my parents off stronger. No, I’m not going to take her to therapy to find out what’s “bothering” her – she’s a kid and she wants to do whatever she wants to do, but we don’t let her (duh?). So where does that leave me: shock collars; bribery; a trip to a penitentiary to show my 2-year-old where her actions will be leading her?

No, it leaves me trying to find alternatives that work for MY child. Now, I’d like to say I have all the time in the world to do that kind of research, but I don’t. So we’re open to suggestions. Please tell us what methods you’ve tried to discipline your child: what’s worked and what has not. Feel free to share any links to books, or websites, or flow charts that show exactly what your method of choice entails. We appreciate your help with this. It’s bad enough that I spent most of my formative years sitting in a Vice Principals office for “behavior unbefitting a child.” Please don’t let this happen to my child. We welcome all advice (on this topic).

Related Links:

WHAT DADS REALLY WANT 4 FATHER'S DAY...

2012-06-18T00:54:00.001-04:00

This week I had the pleasure of being invited to attend The Celebration of Dads at my local Ronald McDonald House in my home town of Toronto. It was an honor to be asked to attend this event because I, like many, had no idea what really went on behind the wrought iron gates that secured this 100,000 square foot, state-of-the-art facility. I knew they helped families cope as they sought medical attention for their sick children for illnesses that require months of treatment and rehabilitation, but I had no idea just how much they helped. It was a real eye opener, and I hope you will look in to this amazing charity that gives hope and dignity and support to so many families in need. It is a charity we should all get behind, even if it’s for selfish reasons, knowing that at any time we might need this type of support for our own children and ourselves.

But Ronald McDonald House wasn’t the only thing I learned about at this event. What I really learned about was perseverance, not just from dads with sick children, but dads of all walks of life; dads fighting for their children’s lives every day. I spoke to dads of ill children, of course, but I also spoke to dads fighting for children being abused as well. I spoke to lawyers helping dads fight for their rights to see their children after divorce, and dads who will never give up until they get to see their kids again. This was an event for Ronald McDonald House, but it was an event in support of dads as well. It brought only a small group of us together, but I for one took more out of it than I ever thought I would. Again, it was an honor to attend this amazing event, but why do I mention it here?

I mention it because Father’s Day 2012 has come and gone, and as I hold the new baseball glove I got from my wife and daughter, or you hold the new chain saw, or tie, or iPad you got as a gift, I’d like us to stop and think about what dads really want for Father’s Day. Sure, gifts are nice, and it’s nice when your family shows you how much they appreciate your contribution, but we both know the most important thing to you on any day of the year is knowing your family is happy, healthy and safe. We never want to think about our kids getting sick, but they do. We don’t want to think about ourselves getting divorced, but it happens. We never want to think about new people entering our children’s lives and hurting them, but it does happen, and the law is not always on our side.

I, for one, mean it when I say “I don’t want anything for Father’s Day” other than for my children to be safe, always; healthy; and happy. That’s all I want. I want the smile that is on my daughter’s face to be there forty years from now. I want the innate joy that she has to grow and never be thwarted. I want her to live without fear and face whatever life has to throw at her, knowing someone will always have her back, and never let her fall. I won’t always be there to protect her, but I am resolved to always do whatever it takes to make certain I have done everything in my power to ensure my children know they are loved and their father has done everything in his power to keep them safe.

I’m a simple man. I do not want for much. I need for nothing. All I ask is to be able to live to see my children grow in to thriving adults, who are good to other people, because they had the opportunity to know what being good, and fair, and kind to other people is all about. I like knowing that there are people whose generosity will help see them there, and people whose humanity will help teach them by example.

I guess what I’m saying is there are many worthwhile charities and organizations out there that exist to help our kids; organizations that are out there to help us to help ourselves to be better fathers, and parents, and people. I don’t want anything for Father’s Day other than to see my children and these organizations thrive so I know I leave the world a better place when I’m gone.

Sure, I don’t mind getting a card every once in a while to tell me how I’m doing, but next year, when you think of getting me, or any other dad something that he really wants for Father’s Day, remember the great charities and organizations like Ronald McDonald House that give dads what they really want… a great back up system for those rainy, turbulent days when they can use all the help they can get.

BYE, BYE BLANKIE: WHY SIMPLY CLEANING YOUR CHILD'S BLANKET MIGHT BE FOR THE BEST

2012-06-08T01:04:00.000-04:00

A Girl and Her Bunny Blankie- Good Times.

They say you should never mess with a baby's blankie; it's like messing with a crack addict’s stash, or a food addicts Malamars. You just don't do it- let sleeping babies lie and don't mess with their greatest source of comfort. It's an unwritten rule; a clause in the parenting code; an immutable law of nature. DO NOT MESS WITH THE BABY BLANKIE. But that never stops people...

The thing about the baby blankie is, well, it smells: it smells of sweat, it smells of saliva, it smells of mold. It's dirty. Its germ infested. It's unsanitary. It's possibly the most disgusting thing you will ever lay your senses on, but, unfortunately for you, your kid doesn't care- that’s their best friend. If it were up to you, you’d just throw it out and buy a new one, but we all know that’s just not feasible. So you do the next logical thing- you wash it.

Bad move.

They say dogs don’t recognize their owners when they get out of the shower; something about them not recognizing your scent. Well, the same thing happens when you wash a baby’s blanket…and that’s not a good thing. My wife thought she was doing something good. She wasn’t trying to do anything to upset our little girl; she was just washing something that was putting our daughter’s health at risk. I mean, the thing was black in some spots. If we didn’t wash it, we would have had to burn it. But maybe she got a little TOO happy with the laundry detergent?

Now, I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. I think anything that makes your life easier in the long run is a good thing, but no one likes to see their child upset. And when my daughter saw her “like new” and improved bunny blankie, fresh out of the dryer, she was not impressed. And when I say not impressed, I mean pissed. We’re talking ranting, and pacing, and screaming, and crying and wailing. She took one look at that freshly washed blanket and lost her sh@#.

“NOOOO!!!!! That’s’ not my bunny blanket” she screamed, over and over and over again. “NOOOO, that’s not my “friend”” (her word for any stuffed toy).

We tried to calm her down, but there was no consoling her- she wanted no part of the “new and improved” blankie. We handed it to her and she threw it to the ground. One time she even stomped on it.
This was her long-time friend, her confidante, her “baby,” and she just dismissed it like the history between them never even existed.

My wife asked the obvious question: “Are we done with the blankie?”
“Yes,” she answered, “we’re done with the blankie!”

And, that was it. It was like a preview in to her teen years when girls go through friends like they’re tissue paper. She was cruel about it. She was cold. She was done!

My wife and I didn’t know whether to pat ourselves on the back or feel ashamed? On the one hand, we broke our 2-year-old daughter of one of the hardest habits a child will ever break. On the other hand, we might have robbed her of one of the greatest relationships a child can ever have.

Only time will tell if we did the right thing: washing that disgusting, germ-infested, disease ridden rag that smelled to high hell. For now we just have high hopes that there might be a reconciliation one day, way off in the future, when our little girl finds a pink bunny blanket hiding in the back of her closet, covered in spider webs, and remembers her old friend, long enough to decide that it’s taking up valuable space where shoes could go and she deals it the final insult of placing it in a box marked “old toys for donation.” Poor thing.

It’s a sad tale really. I wonder if that’s what Puff the Magic Dragon was really about?
Naw, that’s still a drug song...

Links:
Psychology of Transitional Objects in Children
6 Tips for Weaning Your Child's Comfort Object - Parents.com

TIME (MAGAZINE) HAS PARENTING PHILOSOPHIES AT A HEAD: WHY IT MIGHT BE TIME TO GO TO THE ZOO INSTEAD

2012-05-22T01:55:00.000-04:00

The Time Magazine Cover that is causing controversy

If I've said it before, I'll say it again: parenting is not an exact science. Sure, everybody likes to think they know what they're doing, but do we really? I mean, can anybody say they have the one tried and true method for raising the "perfect child?" To me, parenting is just a smorgasbord of opinion, and we all choose to believe what we want to believe. In actuality, choosing one parenting philosophy over another is no different than choosing which side of the coin you choose to gamble on when deciding your fate at the hands of Pascal's Wager, where the truth of the matter can never truly be known, and you're just guessing at best.

Now, I saw the recent Time Magazine cover that has many moms up in arms. You know the one with the made-up mom breastfeeding a four-year-old with the caption "Are You Mom Enough?" We’ve all seen it, the one pitting those who believe in Attachment Parenting versus those who don't. I know why the article was written. I know why it's a hot topic of the day. But, I'm not biting, and, I'm most certainly not choosing sides. No, not because I'm a dad and I should have no dog in this hunt, but because I'm a parent who only wants the best for my children, like all other parents, and I would prefer to write something that brings us all together as opposed to pushing us further apart.

Spoof of Time Magazine Cover

The real truth of the matter is this: human beings are so far removed from our true animal instincts that most of us have no faith in our common sense, so we look to science to tell us what to do; we look to the "experts" to show us how to do something that should be as natural as breathing, and we hand over all our parental duties to them in the hopes that they will help us to do the right thing. Problem is the experts can't agree on anything, so we have to choose: do I breastfeed for one year or five? Do I co-sleep or do I let my child sleep in their own crib? Do I formula feed or hire a wet nurse to feed my child? The list goes on and on, and more and more all we notice is the differences in our parenting philosophies when we should be noticing what all parents have in common.

We are only animals after all. Just because we have large brains doesn't make us smarter than the rest of the animal world, just more complex. Disagree? Take a trip to the zoo; no, not to watch the animals, but rather to watch the humans. Go to the zoo on a long weekend, when droves of parents- hundreds, even thousands of moms and dads- flock through the gates just to find something to do with their children for the day. As you stand in line you won't see the differences in people, you'll see just how much we are all alike. For as much as the various parenting philosophies would try to put us on different paths, the reality is we are all just different people chasing the exact same goal- happy, well-adjusted kids who all want to see the new White Lion exhibit.

We all have to put sunscreen on our kids, do we not? We all have to pack snacks for them, and make sure they don't drop their hats. We all have to explain the same things like why the line-up is taking so long, and why they shouldn't try to climb the fence to get a closer look at the Baboons. We all make use of the change tables at one time or another. We all question why there seems to be a weird teenager eying our kid when we're not holding their hand. We're all parents, and as much as we want to think we're that much different than each other, you can't help but notice just how much we are the same if you're willing to look.

More controversial Time Magazine Covers

Sure, I fed my two-year-old French fries in the food court while a mom a few tables over breastfed her five-year-old, but it's just a choice. And if we can choose not to attack each other for these choices, realizing that what works for one parent does not work for another, we would all be able to get along.
After all, parents like all other animals at the zoo are always conscious of their captivity (parenthood). And the more we point and stare at people for doing things that are foreign to us, the more it makes them feel like their backs are to the wall and they have to defend themselves. But why can't we just be more like kids? My daughter walked up to a Giraffe, looked it up and down, smiled, said "Bye Mr. Zebra" and moved on. Why can't you? Why can't Time Magazine? Why do we have to always attack what is different, when what we should really be celebrating is what is the same about all of us?

I'm not saying I'm perfect, but I no more enjoy someone telling what I'm doing wrong with my parenting than I enjoy someone backseat driving in my car, or telling me what to do in my own kitchen. We all choose to do things differently so that we're not all annoyingly the same. No one's better, and no one's worse. We're just adopting different ways of getting to the same end goal. True, my daughter will go off to college knowing how to cook her own meals and be comfortable sleeping in her own bed while your child may still be breastfeeding, co-sleeping and peeing where ever they feel like it (in extreme cases), but who says which is the better way to raise your child. The important thing is we all just learn to get along and raise happy, healthy, well-adjusted kids.

In my opinion, we're all just children raising the next generation of children. The lessons never stop and the answers will never be as clear as we would like them to be.

Can't we all just get along?

BABBLE BACKLASH- "DADDING" UP THE DAMAGE OF BABBLE.COMS LATEST FATHERHOOD FAUX PAUX

2012-05-15T02:21:00.000-04:00

How Babble.com must be feeling after the backlash over a simple Mother's Day post

I don't usually get angry about other people's blog posts. I get mad at the parenting magazines (print and on-line), corporations, and the odd parenting expert, but rarely do I rail about the work of another parent who merely has something to get off their chest. For me, dad blogging is my sanity. It allows me to speak my mind where I otherwise might have held my tongue. It gives me a voice where I otherwise might have none. It's my privilege, my joy, my right to call it as I see it. And when I see another blogger talking out of his ass it makes me want to f'ing scream (in a manly way).

Take this jewel from Babble.com, a website for "a new generation of parents." It's a blog post entitled "Top 10 Things Mothers Do Better than Fathers," written for “Dadding,” Babble’s dad blogger section, and it really, really.... sucks.

Why does it suck? Well, it sucks for many reasons: 1) it kissed a lot of mom ass (I mean a lot mom ass) for no apparent reason other than the fact it was Mother's Day and that's the day a lot of guys kiss mom ass. 2) It tried to make all men (well, more particularly dads) look like inept buffoons when it comes to child rearing, when the only inept parenting buffoon in this case was the author himself. And 3) it made me scroll horizontally instead of vertically, which I hate.

I get it. Babble needed a Mother’s Day post extolling the virtues of moms for Mother’s Day, something that would make moms feel like all the hard work that they do is not ignored. Problem is in his attempt to build up the moms, Dadding’s dad blogger made millions of dads look like imbeciles. Problem with that for me is I spend a lot of my time showing that most dads are not imbeciles. Bigger problem for me is Babble, the website for “a new generation of parents,” let a complete imbecile speak for millions of men, and made fathers look like secondary caregivers who are only good at “switching the inputs on the TV, mowing the grass, or carrying groceries in from the car,” which only served to set us back a few “generations.”

Is my wife great at hugging and snuggling and driving the kids around and showing her emotions- yeah, she is. But, so am I, and I’m not a touchy/feely kind of guy, but I am with my kid. Is my wife better at cooking, and cleaning, and first aid? No. She hates doing any of it unless it absolutely needs to be done, and she resents the fact that just because she’s a woman that she should enjoy such things. In her words, “that’s what she has a husband for.” Sure, when my daughter’s sick she’ll call for her mom, but her dad’s the one who checks on her all throughout the night and takes his equal share of days off to stay home with her. And, keeping the kids clean? WTF dude- put the kid in the tub, lather, rinse and repeat!!! How hard is that?!? Sure your wife’s the better parent… you let her do EVERYTHING!

Do I have a list of thing’s my wife is better at than me? Sure. She’s more patient, more precise, and more "mothering" that I am (go figure). She can carry a baby for nine months (I can’t), she can give birth (I can't), and, if she was physically capable, I’m sure she’d be a better breast feeder than me too. But, for the most part, when it comes to parenting, and house work, and caring for our kids, my wife and I are interchangeable, adaptable, and more than capable of handling our own when caring for OUR children, whether together or alone. And I don’t need to tear myself or my fellow man down to build up the woman that I love to tell her that she’s an amazing mother on Mother’s Day. I don’t need to kiss her ass, and the asses of millions of other women to make them feel special. All involved moms are amazing and so are all involved dads simply for being there and being available to their kids. Even Dadding’s dad blogger seems like he’s a pretty good dad, although misguided and in great need of forceps to remove Babble’s puppeteer-like hand from his ass.

What are we saying? Simply, we, the other dad bloggers, the first-time fathers, the involved dads, and the SAHDs don’t really like your take on parenting with this particular article Mr. Dadding (whoever you are) and we hope you’ll rethink how you choose to represent your gender in future so you and I don’t have to have this conversation again.

Here’s to equality in parenting… May you one day do your fair share.

IT'S ALL FUN AND GAMES UNTIL SOMEBODY SCREAMS FOR THEIR MOMMY: DADS AND THE DRAWBACKS OF ROUGH HOUSING WITH YOUR KIDS

2012-05-12T00:45:00.001-04:00

For fathers, roughhousing with your kids is a rite of passage. Dads love nothing more than horsing around with their kids (much too many a mother’s chagrin). We use our kids to practice our favorite wrestling moves, shit we remember from old movies, and stuff we just make up out of our heads. It’s in our DNA. It’s in our blood. It’s just who we are. But sometimes we take it too far and that’s when all hell breaks loose.

Now, no dad (no good dad, anyway) would intentionally hurt his child. Roughhousing is meant to be fun. It’s our way of bonding with our children. We encourage them to jump on us. We challenge them to chase us. And we promise that nothing bad will come of it, until it does. And that’s when we know we’ve taken it too far.

Roughhousing is just part of being a dad...

All I wanted to do was body slam my 2-year-old daughter on her Grandma’s couch. It’s nothing we hadn’t done before at home. I took all the precautions. I did everything in slow motion. I cradled her neck. I lowered her gradually. I did everything I could to ensure we were being safe, but I forgot one thing: grandma’s couch isn’t quite the same as Daddy’s. For one, it has a lot less cushioning, especially on the arm rests, and although I dropped my daughter’s body on the softest part of the couch, her head seemed to find the hardest.

And, it wasn’t like my daughter cried right away; it took a few seconds for her and I both to realize what Daddy had done. For all she knew Daddy dropped her on her head. It wasn’t intentional. It wasn’t because he wasn’t being careful. Daddy made a mistake- in front of his wife’s entire family at Friday night dinner- and he was most certainly about to pay for it.

Wailing ensued. I quickly lifted my daughter in to my arms. “Sorry baby” I said, as I rocked her in my arms. But “sorry” doesn’t seem to mean much to a screaming child, writhing in pain because her father might have inadvertently dropped her on her head. Oddly, it means even less to your wife when she realizes your bone-headedness (not a word) is to blame. “Give me my child” she says, as she takes her from your arms and turns her back on you.

“What happened?” She asks

“Daddy dropped me on my head” your child says.

“He did” says your wife, giving you the evil eye. “Well, I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

And, so you explain yourself for the next ten minutes, first to your wife, then to her mom, and her dad, and her siblings, and your five-year-old niece- anybody who will listen to you. You tell the story again and again, picking your actions apart trying to figure out how you might have done it all differently. But what’s done is done.

You child is now calm. Her cries slowing to mere whimpers as you walk up to her to say you’re sorry, yet again. But she turns away from you, milking the moment as she hides her face in her mother’s armpit. “I’m sorry!” you scream, letting out a nervous laugh so you yourself don’t cry.

“She hates me,” you say to your wife.

“She doesn’t hate you,” says your wife, “she just no longer trusts you.”

“Great!” you say. “I broke my child.”

“Leave her,” says your wife, “she’ll forget it in a few minutes. “

So you do, and she doesn’t, instead she turns to anyone who will listen so she can tell them that her Daddy dropped her on her head. She’ll turn, almost growling at you as she points and says “There he is! He did it. My Daddy dropped me on my head. He’s a bad, bad Daddy.” And, it hurts you, deeply, the thought that you, your little girl’s protector, might be responsible for any amount of pain that she must endure. It literally stabs you, right through the heart, the idea that you are responsible for her tears.

You say it again, and again, and again, but your offer of apology falls on deaf ears- your child’s, your wife’s, your conscience. You fucked up. You didn’t mean to- it was all in good fun- but you miscalculated all the variables and it cost you; it cost your daughter.

You wait hours, days, weeks for her to forget. You say sorry, over and over, hoping she will finally forgive you and you can move on. But it’s hard. She will forgive you, but you will always be “the guy who dropped her on her head at Grandma’s house,” and that she will never forget… and neither will all the people either she or your wife will tell in the days, weeks or months to come.

You want to roughhouse with your kids? Oh you’ll be sorry all right, but with millions of other dads body slamming their kids on couches every single day, you’ll never be alone. And your kid (my kid in this case) well she still loves you, even if you are a “the worst daddy ever!”…today anyways.

Related Links:

This blog post brought to you by Band-Aid Brand Band Aids and those funny looking helmets parents buy for their kids.

Disclaimer: No children where hurt during the making of this post... purposefully.

IF MEN COULD BREASTFEED, WOULD THEY? AN EXPOSEE FROM FODDER 4 FATHERS

2012-05-07T01:23:00.001-04:00

Gentlemen, let's face it dads take a lot of flak over the fact that (through no evolutionary fault of our own) we can't give birth. We hear it all the time: “Men could never carry a baby for nine months.” “Men could never give birth.” “Men could never feel queasy for three to nine months straight and smile and say ‘it’s for a greater cause.’” Fine, it’s true, we concede the fact that not having a uterus or a vagina significantly limits our ability to have children, and we will never know the "agony" of childbirth, but it doesn't mean we're not sympathetic to your plight. We hear how much moms suffer through with the pregnancy, and the labor, and the birth. We know about the swelling, and the soreness, and the sitz baths, and, well, because you never stop telling us how much you do we would like to offer our services where they have never been given before. No, not pregnancy, or labor, and most certainly not birth- we'll let you keep that- we're talking breastfeeding. Because, guess what, we have nipples, and we’re not afraid to use them.

Ladies, we agree you shouldn't have to bear the brunt of the load anymore! And if science can come up with a way for a woman to go from a B cup to a 34FF, I’m sure we can figure out a way to implant some milk ducts, create a regimen of hormone injections and give us guys a chance to show that moms aren’t the only ones who can latch a baby to their breast... and complain about it.


Image Courtesy of "Meet the Parents" (2000)

What, you think that’s a bad idea? Why? Dads shouldn’t know the joys of breastfeeding? Dads shouldn’t know the struggles of being shunned for wanting to feed our children in public places? What women should be the only ones who should have to fight for their rights to whip out a breast in a restaurant? Women should be the only ones objectified by teenaged boys and dirty old men? Is that it? Why should you get to be the only ones to complain about these hardships? We have nipples? We want to take one for the team? What, you think just because we have chest hair we shouldn’t be allowed to take our breasts out in public and risk every restaurant in America being shut down as we contaminate every bowl of soup with strands of our DNA?

Oh? Wait, maybe this wasn’t well thought out?

Never mind...

I guess there's a reason why Nature chose moms after all? Moms, you’re doing a great job. Keep up the good work! We appreciate it.

F4F REVIEWS: TOYS 4 BOYS (OF ALL AGES) FROM SPINMASTER

2012-05-02T01:38:00.000-04:00

"Let's really put this to the test..."

I won't lie, next to being able to talk about my favorite subject each and every day, my daughter, the best part about being a dad blogger is getting the opportunity to test out free toys. And, as the father of a 2-year-old daughter, I've seen my fair share of dollies, and tea sets and tiaras, so I was really excited to get the call from Spin Master to test out some of their toys for boys. And, when I say these toys are cool, I mean COOL.

For starters, who doesn't like die-cast cars? And what little boy (or girl) doesn't like to live out his Days of Thunder fantasy by rolling with some of the biggest names in NASCAR today? Ever wanted to race Tony Stewart vs. Kevin Harvick in your living room? Well you can with NASCAR AUTHENTICS: perfect miniatures of the cars made famous by these two titans of stock car racing. The detail on these cars is amazing, right down the tires, the interior and the advertisements. If you've got a kid who likes car racing (or you are one yourself) these are must haves. (Ages 3+)

Small cars don't do it for you? Need something with a little more power? You need to try out the Air Hogs R/C remote control replica cars. Me, I felt the need, "the need for speed" while taking Dale Earnhardt's #88 Chevy (1:24th scale) through its paces on the driveway. The full function control remote was awesome. I was spinning out and crashing in to the wall (not recommended) just like I would on a real track. This indoor/outdoor speedster kept me busy for hours at a time as I ran circles around the competition (the dogs, the baby, my wife) and relived my childhood. Again, the detail was amazing... it even held up after all the crashing. (Ages 5+)

Sorry, no trains this time, but there was a plane to test out... a really awesome (and I mean AWESOME) plane. You want to have some fun, get yourself an Air Hogs R/C Adrenaline Series Hawk Eye Blue Sky Video Camera Plane. That's right, a remote control plane...with a built-in camera. This one's for the big boys (12+).

I took this one to the park to get the full value of its 100ft remote control range. True, I almost had to walk back home because I forgot to charge it (USB in to your home computer/laptop), but then I remembered I could also charge it through the remote itself. Once charged, it was one running lift off and we were air borne... for about ten seconds before we crashed (too much throttle). But you could crash a million times with this toy and its soft foam construction. Hell, I crashed it in to the ground, a car across the street, and a tree...and I got it all on film, because this plane takes pictures and VIDEO (4+ minutes worth). Sure, I got it to fly, and it was a beautiful sight to behold, but I had as much fun watching the video of myself having to figure out how to get it down from the top of a tree... twice (pictures and video download to your computer in seconds).

Was I a pro when it came to flying this amazing 1:24th scale stealth bomber? Not at all. But a bunch of kids in the park took it for a spin and had it doing some stunning maneuvers. Me, I really enjoyed the fact that I could capture the moment. I don't think I've gotten so much out of one toy in my life.

All in all, what do I have to say about this great line up of toys from Spin Master: only good things. Sure, it was a nice change of pace not to have to try out a preschooler's doll house, but it was really nice to play with well-constructed toys for boys that survived everything I put them through; toys that lived up to their promise and more.

I give Spin Master a High Five, our highest award, for putting out some great f'ing toys.

Disclaimer: Fodder 4 Fathers is a non-compensated endorser for the products listed above. These products were provided to Fodder 4 Fathers free of charge for review purposes only.

SORRY TO BURST YOUR BUBBLE: OVER-PROTECTIVE PARENTING IS BAD FOR YOUR KIDS

2012-04-28T02:05:00.000-04:00

“WHAT UP WITH DAT, DAD?”

Maybe it's me, but there seems to be a lot of uptight parents these days. I see it in playgroups, the playground, at family outings, and on Facebook. People just seem to be so tightly wound when it comes to their kids. I guess some might call it "Helicopter Parenting" but I prefer to call Control Freak Parenting. People, let your kids fucking breathe! You can’t prevent everything. Sooner or later you’re going to have to go to emergency for some stitches, or to set a broken bone, or to remove a peg from your kid’s nose. Now, no one’s telling you not to watch your kids… just stop standing over them like that vein on your forehead is going to explode if they try to put sand in their mouth.

Relax! Sure, we all have our hang ups. I personally have a fear of my daughter choking, but it’s more because I’m afraid I won’t know what to do if it actually occurs (I’m enrolling in refresher classes). But that’s MY hang up. My 2-year-old gags all the time, but you just learn that it’s normal for a child to do that as they learn how to eat solids. Many times she gags herself because she thinks it’s funny. I don’t, but it’s her sense of humor. And I guess we as parents need a little more of that.

All parents have some hang up of some sort. I remember my dad losing his mind if one of us had our glass too close to the edge of the table. I know my brother loses his sh@# when his kids (aged 6 and 9) go out on their Grandmother’s balcony (10 stories up). You’re entitled to your phobias as a parent- you just can’t pass them on to your kids.

You don’t like animals? Well, why can’t your kids like them? You have a fear of heights and throwing up on strangers? Cool, let someone else take your son or daughter on that roller coaster. You think micro-organisms are plotting your death? They might be, but slathering your kids in Purell is only going to kill all the good bacteria that keep them healthy.

Stop over-thinking all aspects of your kid’s lives. Have your one, or two, or three, four, five, six, or seven phobias that force you to bite your lip, many, many times, as you take your child out in public, but don’t freak your kids out with them. And you know what- don’t freak me out with them either. I DON’T WANT TO KNOW.

Yes, kids can get salmonella from raw cookie dough. Well, so can adults, but I seem to have built up an immunity to it over time. Are you going to rob your kid (or your husband) of one of the greatest joys of childhood? Let them lick the freakin’ bowl (and the beaters too). Let them eat some sand or dirt, and play on the monkey bars, and jump off the garage, and use a skateboard, and eat some junk food every now and then, and bloody up a nose. Each and every one of these things is a rite of passage, and when you keep your kid from trying new things you’re robbing them of the joys of childhood… and you’re robbing yourself of all the best parenting stories too (“We spent all night in emergency all because Billy stuck the letter X up his nose and we couldn’t finish our game of Scrabble until it was removed.”)

Let’s stop with the “Helicopter Parenting” and institute “Drive-by Parenting” where we let our kids have their space (in a confined area where no one will abduct them) and pop our heads in occasionally to say “Wuz up? Need a juice box; a diaper change; some forceps to remove that crayon from your nostril?” Let’s go back to that. Let’s be cool again… or as cool as parents can be.

I’ll put down my Slap Chop if you put down your sanitizing wipes, your toddler leash, or your bubble wrap. We can do this. We can be the encouraging parents we set out to be… or at least one step closer to that. Just breathe, and let go of the can of Lysol…

There, isn’t that better now?... for the kids?

Related Articles:

http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1940697,00.html

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/family-and-relationships/give-helicopter-parents-a-break/article1651532/

http://www.babyzone.com/mom/motherhood/helicopter-parent_83221

http://www.livescience.com/10663-helicopter-parents-neurotic-kids-study-suggests.html

http://www.circleofmoms.com/debating-mums/do-happy-babies-have-better-parents-607810

CONVERSING ABOUT CHILD ABUSE: IT'S NOT AN EASY CHOICE FOR EVERYONE

2012-04-24T00:56:00.000-04:00

Image Courtesy of Batman: A Death in the Family

There’s a great line from my favorite film that says a man who puts himself in a position to be a force for change will "either die the hero or live long enough to become the villain" (The Dark Knight, 2008). Now, I don't fancy myself a hero, and I certainly don't see myself as anything more than what I am- a guy who merely wants to do right by his kid- but I certainly know that the double-edged sword of public opinion cuts both ways. And when you put yourself out there, you never know how your actions will be perceived from one moment until the next.

Now, I will admit, my perception of the world is skewed by my upbringing. I have lived many lives with many different father "figures," none what you would call "superstars." I've known the sting of abuse- mostly verbal; occasionally physical; always detrimental- but I choose to channel my life experiences in to something positive. I could easily repeat the sins of my fathers, but I chose to follow a different path instead. Anyone who follows this blog will attest to the fact that I always try to see the positive when it comes to parenting; I always try to find the humor in even the most trying of situations. But, it's not easy. Nothing about parenting is easy.

Life is about choices. We each choose how to raise our children, much like we each choose how to perceive the world around us. I choose to look at the world logically, methodically, and whimsically whereas someone else may interpret their world emotionally, angrily, and judgmentally. These are merely choices we make for how we choose to live our lives, right and wrong.

Now, some people make REALLY bad choices. These people choose to ignore the laws of morality and decency and society and do things that the rest of us could never imagine ourselves doing to or in front of our children; their children. They try to hide these acts from the rest of us so they will not be judged for their actions, but thankfully, many are found out and brought to justice before it is too late for the child. However, many are not. Many children are lost both physically and emotionally, never to be found again.

If only child abusers were this easy to spot

I made a choice, to post an image of such bad, horrific parenting the other day on my Facebook page. I made a choice to caption it in a way that tried to lessen the blow of what was being witnessed. I made a choice to risk both my own reputation and the reputation of my page, blog, etc. to start a conversation about abuse. I made a choice to try to be understanding of those who attacked me for it, those who judged me over it, and those who were unable to control the overwhelming emotions that the image I posted evoked in their hearts and minds. And, I made a choice to stand behind my choices and defend myself as those who vehemently opposed my posting of such a “vile, disgusting, and heinous image” came at me with all their might.

THE IMAGE IN QUESTION (Note: This link will take you to an image that suggests an illegal act. Please be advised that the image may be disturbing).

Would I do it again? Yes. Would I do it a little differently next time? Sure. That's the beauty of choice. And if posting an image that made hundreds of parents sit up and get emotional about the idea of child abuse makes me the villain, I can live with that. I can sooner live with it than knowing that I didn't post the image when I knew in my heart that I was making the right choice. The conversation is always necessary.

CHILD ABUSE STATISTICS

I'm not an activist. I'm not an opportunist (as some believe), and I'm not the anti-Christ. I'm just a dad with a blog trying to do some good simply by being a great father to his child. I'm not a hero, but I'm not the villain either. We can't ignore the dark side of life if we are to prepare ourselves and our children for the dangers of the real world. We can't just sweep images of child abuse under the rug. We have to look, long and hard, at the realities of who can harm our children (the real villains) so we may protect them.

That's not a choice. If you’re a parent, that's your job!

DON'T SHOOT YOURSELF IN THE FOOT: ARE DAD'S JOKES ABOUT DAUGHTERS DATING OUTDATED?

2012-04-19T01:41:00.000-04:00

All dads with daughters make the same joke about buying a shot gun anticipating the day when their little girls will come of age and start accepting suitors. But we all know that if we armed every dad with a Winchester our emergency rooms would be full of dumbasses that shot themselves in the foot. So, putting all jokes aside (I’ll try my best), let’s talk about the reality of what dads can really do to prepare themselves for the day their daughters start dating.

Marilyn Manson

1 (1) PREPARE YOUR MIND:

The first thing you have to tell yourself is your teenage daughter- either with or without your blessing- is going to date. It’s a fact. Now, she might like girls, she might like boys, she might like boys that look like girls or girls that look like boys, or girls and boys that pretty much dress as if they were the opposite sex, but someone’s going to be sharing their gum with your daughter and the sooner you accept that the better. I don’t like it any more than you do, but they say “chance favors the prepared mind” so the more you prepare for this inevitability the better you will be able to cope…Yes, I know that’s wishful thinking. But this is my blog, so shut up.

Alice Cooper

2. (2) GET SOME PERSPECTIVE:

We all know you will most likely hate every single boy that shows up at your front door, but hey, you’ll like them a lot more than the boys who show up in the middle of the night at your little girl’s window. You must not assume all boys are bad. Some look like they might be trouble, but the Goths, the Punks, the suburban white kids who think they’re from the streets, they’re all misunderstood.

Elvis Presley

Remember, back in the day Elvis scared the crap out of fathers with his gyrating hips and smoldering stares, but in retrospect he was just some mama’s boy from the high school band that all the girls took pity on. Alice Cooper, Dee Snider, Marilyn Manson, these were all the guys in the chess club. So don’t judge a book by its cover. “The evil that you know is better than the evil that you don’t know,” and if you’re lucky, your daughter might be dating one of these dweebs when their Facebook page takes off. And, I don’t know about you, but I’d rather know that my daughter was dating some guy who liked to wear his personality on the outside (tattoos, make-up, piercings), than some guy who hides it on the inside (see: American Psycho, 2000).

American Psycho (2000)

3. (3) GIVE YOUR DAUGHTER THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT

Yes, every boy with at least one working testicle is a threat to your teenaged daughter’s virtue and you’re going to want to be critical of every guy she brings home. Don’t be!!! Dads are horrible judges of character when it comes to who is worthy of their little princesses. After all, you wouldn’t have been your father-in-laws first pick for his daughter- you’re not the Sultan of Brunei or the Head of Neurosurgery at Cedars Sinai. So give your daughter some leeway to make her own decisions about the boys SHE likes. Hopefully, she’ll weed out the bad ones quickly before they turn in to Marky Mark’s character from Fear (1996). You, you’re liable to scare off every loveable Lloyd Dobbler.

In closing, what have we learned? Not much, but it helped me put some of my fears for the future on the page. Dads can’t control who their daughter’s fall in love with. You can set rules and ask your wishes to be respected (e.g. no boys in your bedroom, no defiling the pool table in the basement, no dating until you’re 30), but you best not make any ridiculous demands (“we’re going to implant this microchip in your neck so we know where you are at all times”). My suggestion: pray, a lot, and raise your little girl to respect herself, her body, and her future; teach her in the art of self-defense; and, if she can save a little respect for your feelings, that would be nice too.

Why couldn't I have just had sons?

Nevermind...

Related Links:

BURSTING THE OVER-PROTECTIVE PARENTING BUBBLE: WHY THE ODD BOO BOO ISN'T SUCH A BAD THING FOR YOU OR YOUR CHILD

2012-04-15T01:34:00.001-04:00

The longer you're a parent, the more you realize you can't protect your children from everything. Sure, you could go the old "Bubble Boy" route (the Jake Gyllenhaal and John Travolta versions), but that's not really protecting your kids (unless they actually have a rare auto-immune disorder that makes even the air around them a potential killer). No, most of us just have to let our kids be kids and cross our fingers that our trips to the emergency room will be few and far between. As, let's face it, control is an illusion and although there are many things you can (and should) do to protect your kids, there are also many things you need to allow them to learn and experience on their own (i.e. “no pain, no gain”).

Now, I’m not a stranger to the emergency room. As a child I had many a foreign object removed from my being (pegs up my nose, a piece of wood rammed under the nail bed of my pinky finger, a toothpick that was jammed straight in to my heel). Visits to the emergency room are just a way of life when you’re the youngest of four boys (or the youngest of MY mother’s four sons, anyway). But, that’s not to say I wouldn’t do anything to protect or prevent my little girl from suffering even a moment of pain, where possible.

I’d say two years, three weeks and roughly twelve hours (my daughter’s age) is a pretty good run for never having to take your daughter to “emergency?” At least that’s what I was telling myself when I heard the very large bang, followed by the blood-curdling cries my daughter let out after she had her first major fall. It was quite innocent really. My daughter, the independent little girl that she is, wanted a marker from the living room, and didn’t want to ask Daddy for help to get it while he was stirring dinner.

And BANG… the kitchen wall shakes like there’s an earthquake, and the wailing begins.

In a succession of quick moves I took the pot off the burner, turned off the stove and rushed in to the other room to find my daughter in between the wall and her Fisher Price Easel, holding a red marker (the thing she wanted) in one hand and her entire face in the other. The tears were streaming, she was screaming and I held my breath as I peeled her hand away from her face.

For a moment I was wishing that she had time to color all her teeth in with that red marker, as that would mean they weren’t all covered in her blood, but I wasn’t so lucky. Apparently, when my daughter fell she cut the inside of her mouth, and it was my job to find out just how bad that cut was.

That’s when all my training as a dad kicked in- as if. No, I was on my own. All I knew was there was a Spongebob Squarepants first aid kit in the bathroom and it had sterile gauze in it (which, if I recalled correctly, was the most hygienic way to clean a cut). So I picked up my scared little girl and rushed her and her blood covered mouth in to the whitest room of the house- the bathroom.

So there I was dabbing my daughter’s mouth with one hand and all the blood she dripped on the floor with the other, as I waited to see just how much blood we were dealing with. Thirty seconds later, I had my answer: not all that much. The bleeding stopped almost as quickly as it began, and aside from the rather large cut to that little flap that holds my daughter’s top lip to her gum line, there wasn’t too much damage to speak of.

The crying stopped. The bleeding stopped. The racing heartbeat (mine) slowed to its regular rhythm. All was okay in the world again. There would be no need to go to the emergency room. Not for my daughter, and not for me. I took care of the injury, on my own, long before my wife got home and she was both in agreement with what I did and with what I did not do--- waste a trip to the emergency room.

As the old saying goes, “no harm, no foul.” Or as the other saying goes, “shit happens,” and you just deal with it as it comes your way. There is nothing that can prepare you for these moments (expect for first aid classes). All you can do is stay calm, keep your kid laughing (which is hard when she has a cut in her mouth), and know that you’re just as capable as anybody else when it comes to applying first aid to your child.

Could this incident have been prevented: maybe? Am I sorry it happened? No. It’s just one of those things that makes both father (or mother) and child stronger. Sure, my daughter now has a scar on the inside of her mouth, but she also knows that her daddy can take care of her if it happens again. And, if that doesn’t help her confidence to test out her world, what else will? A bubble?

BABY BLANKET BINGO: SPELLING OUT THE REALITY OF SECURITY BLANKET ATTACHMENT IN TODDLERS

2012-04-05T02:14:00.001-04:00

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING WITH MY BLANKIE???"

They say "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." Well, "they" never tried to take a security blanket away from a toddler. A child and her inanimate, dirty, germ-infested friend: there is no stronger bond. Oh, you can try to momentarily separate the two- for a bath, a meal, or even a trip to the park- but never, EVER, lose track of where you put it, because, as any experienced parent will tell you, if you lose your kid's blankie--- YOU'RE SCREWED.

The problem is, what do you do when your child’s source of comfort, her solace, her “fuzzy wuzzy” looks more like a delivery system for the Ebola virus than a comforting friend? As, let’s be honest, that whole image of Linus caressing his baby blue blankie- the really clean one- is a farce. Try imaging Pigpen carrying around that blanket for two years, dragging it anywhere and everywhere he goes and then you start to get an inkling of what you’re REALLY dealing with. It’s disgusting. And sooner or later that thing’s going to have to be removed with a Hasmat suit and one of those plastic cases they use to ship plutonium.

Now, here’s the problem: most new parents aren’t too bright. Or, rather they don’t see the big picture when it comes to the baby blankie. Your infant child cries during the night so you give her that blanket Aunt Ethel knitted for her before she was born. Great! A week later, she’s addicted to it, like crack, and you don’t have a back-up blankie because Aunt Ethel developed a serious case of arthritis and won’t be knitting for anybody ever again. This is mistake # 1: never give your child something that cannot easily be replaced (see also goldfish). Or, maybe, your mother-in-law bought your child a cute, cuddly, bunny blankie at the toy store. It was all the rage at the time, but now that your baby needs a replacement they’ve been taken off the market due to slow sales. This is mistake # 2: if you child shows an interest in anything that could become a security blanket of any kind… BUY OUT THE STORE!

Okay, so now you have this disgustingly dirty security blanket that your child won’t give up, you don’t have anyone to make you another one, and the stores are all out of the specific one that she likes (not that there is a guarantee this would actually work… because kids aren’t stupid), so now what? Well, at the very least, you’re going to have to try to wash it. And, well, you’re going to have to take it away long enough to do that, but who are you kidding: there’s going to be lots of screaming and crying (mostly you going “please, just let me wash it for you!?!”)?

So the battle begins. You, wearing a ski mask and dishwashing gloves, try to pull the bunny blankie away from your kicking and screaming child, not realizing the turmoil, the anguish that is running through little her head as you take away the only true, self-soothing comfort she has ever known. I imagine if you could read her thoughts, they would sound something like this...

So, unable to deal with the hooror of imagining the emotional scars you might be inflicting on your screaming child, you just give up, hoping that one day she just loses the stupid thing- in a mall, when she's out for the day with your in-laws- and you can just replace it with something better, like a car. But we all know the truth... no matter what we do as parents, we will never, ever be able to truly help our children get over the loss of a security blanket... as this alarming epidemic (see next photo) implies...

But, what do we know... we're no experts? (Pssst... check out the links).

Related Links (Security Blanket Attachment):

http://www.evtv1.com/player.aspx?itemnum=1447

http://www.mamapedia.com/article/security-blanket-when-is-it-time-to-go

http://www.livestrong.com/article/274728-understanding-childrens-attachment-to-security-blankets/

http://www.babychitchat.com/breaking-the-blanket-habit.xhtml

http://www.toddlertime.com/dx/regression/pacifiers-and-securityblankets.htm

http://psychcentral.com/blog/archives/2010/10/13/do-you-still-have-a-security-blanket/

http://www.askdrgayle.com/html/qa450.htm

http://parents.berkeley.edu/advice/toddler/lovies.html

FODDER 4 FATHERS: GOING LEGIT?

2012-04-04T11:57:00.000-04:00

I know it seems like we haven't blogged much lately, but that's not to say we haven't been busy. We have big things planned for the near future: a website, a book and an app. We hope that you'll bear with us while we get all these projects going so we can get back to what we love most... talking about fatherhood.

In the meantime, we hope you'll help us go "legit" by voting for us to be one of Babble's Top 50 Dad Bloggers for 2012. Please visit the link below to vote:

http://www.babble.com/dad/fatherhood/top-50-dad-blogs-nominate-a-dad/index.aspx

And, look for a new blog post tonight. As always, we thank you for all of your support.

Adam, F4F

YOUR MORTALITY AND YOU: WHEN IT COMES TO YOUR CHILD, WHAT SHOULD A DAD DO?

2012-04-01T01:49:00.000-04:00

Every once in a while I 'll see a movie that really bring that whole idea fatherhood thing home to me. Don't get me wrong, I know I'm a dad- I've known it for over two years now. I mean, if the diaper changes and the feedings and the seemingly endless birthday parties for one snot-nosed kid after another didn't give it away, the increase in my monthly bills certainly has. But, if I look at it logically, I'm just at the ground floor of fatherhood. I'm just scratching the surface of what will be asked of me of over the next 10, 20, 30, even 40 years of my life...if I'm lucky to be around that long.

And, that's what made me really sit up and pay attention to "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close," a film that looks at the aftermath of what happens to a family when the dad dies during the Twin Tower bombings of 9/11. Will I be around that long? And, if not, how do I plan for it?

Now, I'm not talking about a will. Sure, a will is important, as god forbid if something happens to me (and/or my wife) I want my child to be taken care of. But that's just one concern. My bigger concern is how will I be able to leave a piece of ME behind so my child never has to feel like I have abandoned her?

I accept my mortality- I could die tomorrow- and I don't want to leave my child wandering, wondering how I honestly and truly feel about her; how I honestly feel about life (and death); and how I really feel about the world I leave her to grow up in. Now, I could leave this up to a bunch of other people to fill in the blanks- people who think they know me (family, friends)- but I'd rather just cut out the middle men and do it myself.

HERE'S SOMEONE WHO MIGHT HAVE BENEFITED FROM A LETTER FROM HIS OLD MAN

What I’m proposing is a kind of living will, a journal, written solely from my unique perspective as “Dad.” Sure, it’s easy for me to do this as I’m a writer (sort of) and it’s not that hard for me to get my feelings on the page, but you try writing a letter to your child that explains each and every feeling you have about them, now and for the future. These will be my words- not my wife’s, not my siblings’, and not the words of some lawyer I hired to be the executor of my will. This is dad’s take on his relationship with his child, from the day she was born onward, updated periodically just to keep her on her toes. I mean, I sure hope I get to be around to tell my daughter what I really think of that guy she dates from grade 11 to 12, and I hope I get the opportunity to tell her that there a better fish in the sea when she dumps his ass for cheating on her with the school lunch lady, but there are no guarantees. So I may have to improvise and come up with a list of advice for all situations; for all contingencies.

I’ll be honest with you, I never thought of myself as a journal writer, but after watching this movie I’m inspired to leave my kid a few volumes on what she has meant to me over these last two years; how being her father has changed me as a person; and what I would like for her future (with no pressure of course). It’s just something that I think every child needs… well, that and an inheritance.
Maybe you should think about writing one too? After all, you’re not going to live forever and who better to hold the real book on you- the man, the legend- than your child? Just something to think about… when you’re crossing the street, or getting on a plane, or eating a hot dog. You know… that every day stuff that never killed anybody.

And, if you get a chance, please check out this great film.

FODDER OF THE WEEK: BEST PARTY PRACTICES- WHO MAKES THE V.I.P. LIST 4 YOUR CHILD’S 2ND B-DAY BASH

2012-03-26T01:27:00.001-04:00

When coming up with a guest list for your 2-year-olds birthday party, you will have many important considerations to make. After all, who you invite to this party, or any party for that matter, can make or break the occasion. Of course, you will have to invite immediate family and close friends, but who you invite beyond that is really a matter of who will make the day both special for your child and you, the parent.

Don't invite these dudes...

Now, in this day and age, kid’s birthday parties are stressful. It’s not like you can hold a small get together in your dining room, serve some cake and call it a day. No, kid’s birthday parties in 2012 require a lot more planning, and preparation. You need to book a play place, and you need to come up with a theme. You might need an elaborate cake, and some entertainment, and you will most certainly need at least few party-sized pizzas to pull it off. But, again, it’s the people who make the party, so who are the most important people to invite?

Most certainly not this dude!

Well, the parents are important (they’re the ones who will be paying for this event), and the grandparents, great grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins in and around the same age. Your child’s friends are obviously going to get the invite, and, well, it’s always nice if their parents come along. And you’ll invite your friends too- those people who support you through thick and thin, and usually bring the coolest presents. But who is by far THE most important guest a parent can invite to their small child’s birthday party, especially if that birthday party is in a play place where the kids will be running around at 10:30 on a Sunday morning, going up and down the slide, climbing in and out of the bouncy castle, and chasing each other in and around those little tiny houses that no parent in their right mind would ever try to stick their fat ass in to? Give up?

HINT: ITS NOT THIS DUDE

Ready...6-year-old girls… Yup, the best babysitters a parent running a 2-year-old’s birthday party could ever ask for. And, if you invite them to the party, they’re services are free! Why chase after your own kid when you can be talking to your friends over a freshly brewed cup of coffee and leave the running around to someone who, with little or no direction, can corral your kid and move them from one activity to the next?

Hell, we invited three of them to my daughter’s birthday party, and I have to say, it was a great success. No parents complaining of back problems from having to bend down too much. No grandparents getting out of breath because they couldn’t keep up, and no children running around aimlessly when their parents got lost in a conversation over who had the more troublesome child, forgetting that they weren’t watching said child.

You know, if the child labor laws weren’t so strict in North America I would probably try to turn this in to a business. I mean, screw the clown. You want to keep 2-year-olds entertained: hire a bunch of 6-year-old girls! They even keep the older kids in line… especially the boys.

So the next time you have a birthday party in a play place and you’re stressing out over who to invite, take it from me: offer some 6-year-old girls a place to play for a few hours, and a good time (watching over some toddlers), and you’ve got it made.

Those girls know how to par-tay… safely, and responsibly.

Your second consideration, of course: who will bring your kid the best birthday present? But, that’s a conversation for another day…