marriage and family

Being Jon Gosselin

wonkitime — Fri, 15 May 2009 11:15:35 -0700

By Won Kim

Unless you stopped watching TV, surfing the Internet and buying food at the grocery store, you must have heard/read/seen the rumors surrounding the marriage of Jon and Kate Gosselin, who of course are the stars of the hit reality show, Jon & Kate Plus 8.

Just in case, let me give you some quick updates, Twitter style (and if you haven't heard of Twitter yet, well, never mind):

-       Jon & Kate through the miracle of fertility treatments had twins and then sextuplets.
-       TLC (The Learning Channel) decided to showcase a reality show about their family of 10. It is without question, TLC's most successful show.
-       Recently, Jon was seen leaving a bar with another woman. Both deny wrongdoing, Kate believes Jon, but tabloids have tarnished Jon's image.
-       Even more recently, gossip magazines have begun rumors about Kate's own infidelity.
-       Now there are rumors about their marriage crumbling ... all this in time for the start of the new season on May 25^th.

Some say it's good publicity, but even the smartest TV suits know that short-term ratings don't equal long-term success. Ted Harbert, CEO of the Comcast Entertainment Group, was quoted on www.thedailybeast.com, saying, "Most of the time I'd say that's good publicity. For this show, I'd say it's a problem."

More than the show's success or failure, my thoughts are on the 8 kids, the marriage and even Jon's example as a father. With more than 4 million viewers tuning in to watch last season's finale, like it or not, this show has far-reaching impact on parents. Even on the SavvyDaddy website, "Jon & Kate" has consistently been one of the top search words. One forum post has 100+ comments.

Unlike a gossip column or an entertainment magazine, I'm not going to speculate about their rumored extramarital affairs. Instead, I'm going to wonder aloud what it would be like to be Jon ... starting from the very beginning.

Like Jon, I would want to have kids with my wife, but having been unsuccessful I would turn to fertility treatments. Ecstatic to have twins, my wife and I would put all our energy into raising these beautiful girls. Then somewhere around year two of being parents, we would wonder what it would be like to have one more child. So we try one more time, knowing it would be our last. To our surprise (and overwhelming fear), the fertility treatment performs better than we could ever have imagined and WOAH, there are six growing lives in my wife's belly.

Once that sinks in, there is anxiety as heavy as the Titanic. How in the world will we raise six new babies? Plus the twins and my wife and I, that's 10 mouths to feed. Eight college tuitions, two more mini-vans, thousands of diapers, tons of formula and just one-working income. How are we going to pull this off? And like the Titanic, I am sinking.

Then almost miraculously, a small, under-the-radar cable channel wants to take a chance on us. We'll get paid some nice dough per episode, receive a stipend to move into a bigger place (so that it's presentable to the viewers) and companies will send us tons of free products for ad placement during the tapings. Sure, our lives will be made public, but it beats being broke, in debt and continually anxious ... right? The tradeoff seems obvious.

Fast-forward a few years. I can't even step into a McDonald's without a handful of middle-aged women (and men) clamoring to talk to me. My wife and I have our private moments, but usually we're so busy with the kids, preparing for the show and trying to stay out of the limelight that we just forgot what it felt like to be alone again. I can't remember the last time I was dreaming about kids, our future and our lives together. The whirlwind of fame and nonstop activities made us almost numb.

Suddenly, maybe for the first time since we got married, my wife and I are evaluating our marriage, our identity and the future of our kids. The cameras are still here (but we're used to that by now), but there are vindictive character statements being said about us in public. This is one of those fork-in-the-road moments. It feels like forever ago, but there was a time when I doubted we could make it. When my wife was pregnant with our 3^rd, 4^th, 5^th, 6^th, 7^th and 8^th child in her belly, my mind told me to run away. There was no way we could make this work, I thought. But as chance or fate often does, it presents an opportunity to step up. I didn't run. I became a father of 8.

There may be 4 million people who watch me every week, but I can never forget that there are 8 people (well, 9 counting my wife) who watch me with the most attentive eyes. The decisions I make will be quickly forgotten by the 4 million people around the world, but to 8 little ones, it will dramatically impact the rest of their lives. This is when a person really shines.

Jon Gosselin, I have no idea what you're going through. I can only speculate just as every blog and magazine is doing. But one thing I do understand is that every dad wrestles with the fact that every decision he makes is not isolated unto himself ... there are others involved. You just happen to have a lot more others. Personally, I'm hoping the TV show, the fame, the money and everything else takes a backseat to your family.

Recall that time you and Kate decided to try for kids. It wasn't about the viewers, the timeslot or having your face on TV. It was about wanting to be a great husband and a wonderful father. I think we can all relate to that.

"Village" Life Disappearing?

Philmundo — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 07:08:14 -0700

by Phil Stott

So the Stott family are just back from exactly the kind of vacation I needed: lots of time spent on the couch; my parents, brother and sisters more or less fighting over who'd get to look after Maeve (freeing me up for more couch-time); and plenty of soccer on TV (well, it was Scotland, after all, although I'd get lynched for calling it anything but fitba' there). In light of all that, I'd expected to come back to work feeling refreshed, relaxed, re-just-about-everythinged, in fact. So why do I feel so bummed out?

Apart from the obvious answers of jetlag (exacerbated by Maeve's refusal to sleep en route), and the inevitable post-vacation comedown, there's another factor that's weighing heavily. Loosely summed up, it's to do with missing my family. Not in the pining for home kind of way-I've been away for long enough that that's not really a factor anymore-but rather for the idea of raising Maeve within a community, surrounded by an extended family.

It takes a village ...

If being in Scotland recently has taught me anything, it's that the concept of it taking a village to raise a child is greatly underestimated-especially in this day and age. Living around a thousand miles from our nearest relatives, my wife and I haven't necessarily missed having anyone around to help out with Maeve-but only in the sense that you can't really miss what you've never had. Having just spent a week at home with one half of her extended family, I've come to realize just how important it is for Maeve to know her relatives as she grows up.

Just to clarify (in case my parents are reading!), I'm not just talking about having people around to dump Maeve on when we feel like a break (as if we would!). No, what I'm trying to get at is that whole concept of having a community of people to look out for her, and who can give her attention and teach her things even when we don't have the time or energy. In just one week with her relatives, Maeve's vocabulary absolutely exploded, along with her willingness to actually use it. It also highlighted that Meghan and I had kind of fallen into a system where Maeve pointed and grunted at things while we did our best to interpret, continually coming up with suggestions until we guessed the right answer. My parents (veterans of five kids) refused to partake in the game, and exposed something we hadn't realized about Maeve-she knows the words but is often too lazy to use them!

That's exactly the kind of thing I'm realizing we're missing (and that isn't available even in places like daycare, where there are always other kids for the carers to worry about)-the opportunity for someone else to bring something out of your kid that might not otherwise have emerged just because of the routine you're used to.

... but not a global one

All told, it's little wonder that I'm feeling more than a little bummed after this vacation, what with the return to reality being made that much harder by the increased realization that we're kind of on our own out here in New York. And yet, we're not alone, if you get my drift. With people relocating all over the globe for work, it seems like the concept of traditional communities is breaking down all over the place. While there are positive sides to being a global citizen, I worry about Maeve not having the kind of roots that my wife and I both take for granted, or the opportunity to really get to know her family or where they come from. While I'm sure we'll all adapt to it-just as we've been adapting, as a society, for generations-I can't quite help but wonder what else we're losing as that concept of the village disappears. The global village might be a great place to find fulfillment on one level, but it sure can't raise a child like a local one can.

From a Savvy Mommy

tony — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 07:57:04 -0700

by Tony Chen

After putting up my "Mad at Dad" response, I had a great email conversation with a savvy mommy. Get a glimpse of what her life is like below. Even when savvy mommies are married to savvy daddies, life is messy and crazy.

They say that there's 3 sides to every story - his side, her side, and the truth. Sometimes, it's good to hear her side so that maybe down the road, that 3rd side becomes clearer, too.

Without further ado...A day in the life of a savvy mommy.

What's interesting is that when I passed the article link on to my girlfriends, all of them responded that they, too, could commiserate to some degree with what the moms in the article were saying. And it's not like my friends (or I, for that matter) are married to bonehead losers. We are all married to highly-educated, successful, and responsible men who, above all, love their families. And we love our husbands immensely.

My husband and I were actually discussing the article this morning. He noted the other day just how stressed out I have been lately. I run my own business and work from home. We have three children (10, 5, 3). Our son is special needs and, to put it mildly, high-maintenance. My husband travels frequently, at least every other week, so I am often alone.

My day begins at 5:00. I need an hour to shower, feed the cats, make coffee, prepare lunches and start waking up the kids. By the time I wake up my husband at 6:40, I have awoken, fed and dressed the kids. When he wakes up, he prepares a cup of coffee and watches the morning news. On Monday/Wednesday/Friday, he walks the two older kids to the bus stop at 7:15. He then spends 45 minutes working out while I get myself and our preschooler ready for the day. He eats breakfast and gets on the computer while I take our youngest to preschool. I then rush back and have roughly 2.5 hours to work without interruption (except on Monday, when she doesn't go to preschool). I pick her up at noon and then come home to feed her lunch, wash the dishes, do laundry, tidy the house and (hopefully) get a little work done before my older kids come home at 2:15. Then it's snacks, homework, play time, mediating fights (lots of them), more tidying, errands, (hopefully) a little more work, preparing dinner. My husband comes home at 5:30, and we eat together. He then either gets on the computer or goes to his "room" to play his guitars. Meanwhile, I'm cleaning up the kitchen, getting kids bathed, mediating more fights, finishing up homework and (hopeully) getting a little more work done. At 7:30, he reads a bedtime story to our son while I begin the arduous process of getting the youngest in bed. Thankfully, our oldest goes to bed on her own and reads. By 9:00, all kids are in bed and he's watching television. Me? I've still got work to complete. This is a typical day.

Now, I also balance the checkbook, take the kids to doctors appts, schedule meetings and appts for our son, volunteer at my daughter's preschool, tend to our vegetable garden, clean the bathroom, mop the floors, take out the trash and perform other menial household tasks. I also clean the two bathrooms every weekend at the preschool as a "family duty". And I do all grocery shopping. And banking.

Granted, my husband does mow the grass, vacuum, and clean out the gutters. He is also on the board at our daughter's preschool (which is a 2x a month obligation).

But, he wouldn't know how to install a carseat or give our kids medication. In fact, he won't make any kid-related decisions without deferring to me. For instance, he took our two youngest on an errand the other day and called to ask me A) if it was okay to buy them each a pair of new sneakers and B) what size shoes they wear (even though they were right there with him - he could have measured their feet). And when my husband was helping our daughter with her math homework last night, he had me check it to make sure it was correct! I'm the one who worries about if the kids are dressed warmly enough or if they've had enough breakfast to eat. I make sure the plants get watered and the windows get cleaned. I think about who in our family is having an upcoming birthday and if I need to call or send a card.

Just like one of the moms in the article stated, I feel I am multi-tasking so many things and projects and am carrying around so much extra "stuff" in my head. My chest literally hurts (and I am only 32 years old!)

I try not to begrudge my husband because, after 11 years, I realize this is just the way it is. I have accepted it. I don't like it, but I know there is little I can do to change things.

I don't think that women hate their husbands. Are we angry? Sometimes, yes. When my husband implied I should give up my business because "things" were slipping on the homefront, I got upset. My business, as stressful as it can be, is the one thing I have for myself. In the almost 10 years I have been a mom, I have never been away from ALL of my kids at the same time. Ever. I don't get a break. And even though my husband works while he travels, he is reprieved of all kid/home responsibilities for those few days each week.

I know I might come across as sounding really unhappy and angry. I'm not. If anything . . . I'm resigned. My husband is a really wonderful man, and I have a lot to be grateful for. I just wish he could share some of the "head" stuff, if that makes sense.

Preparing for the Down Economy

tony — Wed, 07 Jan 2009 08:41:09 -0800

by Tony Chen

Here's what we have to look forward to in 2009: deepening recession, international political instability, lots of high-profile bankruptcies, and an estimated 1 million pink slips. All we can do is take a deep breathe and focus on what we can control. Here are 20 things we dads can do to prepare our families for the times ahead. Time to get in touch with your inner eagle scout.

The Work Front: No one is safe, right? Every week, I'm hearing about friends of all professions getting laid off. The experts that keep track of this stuff say 60% of companies plan on laying people off in 2009 (compared to ~50% in 2008).

Refresh the resume. There's plenty of resume advice out there, but the best thing I've ever done is to constantly refresh two versions of my resume -- my one-pager and my everything-I've-ever-done-resume. No one sees the latter except me, but it helps me document everything I've ever done. Then I can easily emphasize different parts of my experience on my resume for different job searches. Cataloging everything regularly helps me remember all the things I did.
Network - Everyone knows to do this, but you can be in the 5% of folks who actually follow through. Make a list of 5 people to reconnect with in the next month and go meet up with them for lunch, coffee, or a quick "happy new year, how are you?" call. As of late, I've been meeting a ton of people through my LinkedIn profile - there are a lot more friend of friends that have common career, professional, and project interests than I would think. A LOT more.
Tidy up Your Online Persona Speaking of LinkedIn, this profile is your online resume, your professional homepage. Take some time set up your profile and maybe get some former colleagues to write you a glowing recommendation. Especially if there are er... new years party pictures of you on Google searches, this is a good way to move that stuff lower and out of sight from potential employers googling you. If that doesn't work, change your name to "John Smith" and you'll be covered.
Surf the job boards, even if you're completely happy with your job and not looking. I've found some good companies, salary information, job opportunities by casually surfing and saving all of it for a rainy day. Sure, the position would be filled by then, but you'll have a better sense of what the next steps might be when you're ready to make your move.
Become indispensable. Oh, I mean, less dispensable. In your current role, are there new projects to volunteer for, areas you see that could be improved, customers that you can win back? One rule of thumb: the closer you are to the customer (and the revenue), the better.
Learn a new skill. You're a waiter? learn how to roller skate. You're a financial analyst? Become an expert on financial software packages. You're a salesperson? Pick up some accounting. Too boring? Then, learn something you love, regardless of how "marketable" it is. It's fun, and experts and neurologists agree that it keeps your mind sharp and more creative. Hey, someone has to play the accordian.
Don't go negative. This is the best way to get fired. Be a pain at work. Complain. Talk negatively about co-workers. It's obvious, but how many of us immediately think of someone in our office right now who's fueling their own good-bye?
Get certified. Get a certification for your industry and/or your functional expertise. It's usually just a matter of attending some seminars (see #2 above) and taking a test. For me, I've gotten to know some great people that have led to lots of project, professional, and job leads. Being certified, as cheesy as it may be, is a great thing to have in common.
Take this tough time as an opportunity. If you're running a small business, this may be the perfect time for recruiting some great talent (lots out there right now!), going back to the basics, and rethinking your business.

The Money Front

Fluff up the cushion. Most financial experts say we should have an emergency fund that would cover 3-6 months of expenses. Whether you're in debt or all saved up, now would be a great time to beef it up and grow it to 12 months. 2.3 million people have been unemployed for more than a year. Such are the times.
Cut the fluff, i.e. all unnecessary expenses. BankRate has a great article with 100 ways to save money. WSJ lists 7 small buys that provide major returns. A few bucks a day adds up pretty quickly.
Get your money into an internet bank. One reason: higher interest rates. ING or Emigrant. These companies don't have to pay rent for physical bank locations and can pass that savings onto you.
Refinance. Rates are down and will probably go down some more. There are plenty of good brokers out there who will waive the fee, so you can basically refinance by just spending an hour signing papers. 30-year loans will probably go down to 5%. If you don't own a home, it's a buyer's market.
Invest. Maybe this is a good time to make some investment in beaten down stocks. Fortune has featured 10 stocks to buy right now. And specifically, maybe this is a good time to add an additional plug of money into junior's 529 plan. Short-term volatility doesn't matter, as we won't be touching that money for 15 years.
Find ways to pick up some extra cash. Any freelancing gigs? Part-time/weekend gigs? Is it time to sell off those baseball cards or those books from your disheveled, dusty bookcase? Time for some ebay and amazon selling.

The Family Front: In times like this, some experts say to forget about work/life balance. Maybe that's okay for a time, but "maybe next week, junior" turns into next month and then next year pretty quickly.

Teach in this teachable moment. They won't fully understand, but it's good for them to know that it's not just up, up, and up. Maybe this is also a good time to bring them down to the local soup kitchen to volunteer. They'll see with their own eyes that happiness in life doesn't have to be tied to what's going on financially and materially. I sometimes wonder why I've seen so much more deeply-rooted joy in kids I've met in Haiti, Native America tribes, and China, versus here in America?
Head to the library. Family time doesn't have to be expensive. And yes, libraries are making a wicked comeback.
Talk to your wife about the contingency plan. If you got laid off, obviously you would get really stressed, depressed, demotivated, and lost. Money, family, house, kids can sometimes hang in the balance - this is heavy stuff. Having an agreed-upon plan in hand will give everyone the motivation and purpose to keep on keeping on and to avoid a lot of resentment and anxiety.
Make exercise a family activity. In our constant go-go-go society, we are actually doing ourselves a disservice by not taking care of our bodies. Taking the time to sharpen the saw allows you to give your best to your family and work. Even if they don't realize it yet, our kids are watching how we handle this.
Take a savvy family vacation that won't break the bank. Check out this MSNBC article on 20 recession family travel rules. Now is always the best time to enjoy the family. Man, they grow up quick, don't they?

Are you ready to take on 2009? Would love to hear your ideas on how you and your family are preparing for the shaky times ahead.

Man make fire, man feel manly

silly_sad_machine — Wed, 24 Dec 2008 08:08:02 -0800

By silly_sad_machine

My father kept a fire burning in an old iron woodstove during the winter to heat our house. We lived in very, very rural Oklahoma, and while we had electricity and (eventually) satellite TV, central heat and air was a novelty to which we had never been introduced.

My father woke early - always. He was up long before we were, and when he finally woke us to get ready for school the fire was already burning hot. My sister and I would rush down from our bitterly cold second-floor rooms and scramble to be the first in front of the woodstove's single blower.

When I was old enough my father put me to building fires. He showed me exactly how to do it, as well. You laid out two sticks of wood about a foot apart, and you stacked about four more sticks of wood across the first two. The effect was to make a little cubby to shove in paper, cardboard and other household tinder.

I built a lot of fires in that woodstove during my teenage years, and I always used my father's method. As far as I knew, it was the only way to build fires. But it was amazingly difficult to do. Paper burns hot, but it also burns fast. You could cram that little cubby so full that paper wads were bursting back out onto the floor, and you'd still only get about 20 seconds of good, hot flame. With sticks of wood that were easily as big around as a softball, 20 seconds wasn't good enough.

My father never had a problem with it, though. His hands were like magic in the stove. He'd carry in a load of wood, toss in some paper and there was your roaring fire, no questions asked. But I can remember countless times when I admitted defeat, unable to get the fire to start after several tries. These were no "Leave it to Beaver" moments, though, and my father didn't toss an arm over my shoulder and give me a heart-to-heart. Not being able to start a fire was a black mark against my manhood, and he let me know it. Although he didn't put it so seriously (way too sarcastic to be serious), these were the things a man did, and by God I needed to learn how to do them.

Today I'm building fires in my own fireplace (our woodstove has a stone hearth built around it ... much better than my father's). It was built by my grandfather when he built the house, and its giant presence forms the base of the house's support structure.

The presence of an iron grate on the floor of the stove, however, prevents me from using my father's method of starting fires. It had been some years since I'd really built one, and I suddenly had to adjust and find my own method. In doing so, I learned something very interesting.

My father's method for building fires sucked.

How could the man honestly believe that he was teaching me to build fires if he never taught me anything about kindling? Watch any survival show and you'll learn there are three keys to building a fire: tinder, kindling and fuel. The tinder catches the flame, the kindling stokes the flame and the fuel burns and puts out heat. My father's method involved wads of newspaper (tinder, I guess?) and gigantic sticks of just-seasoned wood. That's it. And yet, somehow, he pulled it off.

As it turns out I can build a pretty good fire too, and it doesn't take me 10 tries, either. Although my father didn't teach me a good method for actually stoking a fire, I think now that maybe that's not what he was trying to do. Maybe he wasn't really trying to do anything, but what he did do was give me a deep and abiding fondness for a roaring fire in a black iron fireplace. It makes me feel like a real father and a real man like nothing else I've done in my life, and burning a fire in our home is like rekindling the heart of our family's legacy.

No, there was no way he was aiming for that. I think he just wanted an excuse to call me a puss.

Don’t spend the holidays spending

Philmundo — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 10:45:50 -0800

By Phil Stott

With the holiday season now officially upon us, my wife and I have begun the yearly ritual of gift shopping. Having more or less had a free pass last year (there's nothing like having a baby the day before Thanksgiving to legitimize removing yourself from the gift-exchange), I'm finding this year more of a challenge than ever before. As a dad, I have the new (although not entirely unpleasant) problem of deciding what, if anything is too much to give my child -- especially as she's too young to have any idea what's going on. As a husband, meanwhile, I'm struggling with getting something that my wife will both like and use, and that shows I'm aware she still has her own identity, on top of being a mom. As if all of that's not enough to be wrestling with, out in the real world there's the question of what's appropriate in the current economy, especially after only recently surviving a fairly traumatic downsizing at my office.

Don't worry, though, this isn't going to be yet another advice column on "the top 10 places to shop in a downturn," or anything like that. Far from it, in fact; rather than being someone who tries to maintain his lifestyle regardless of income -- even by cutting corners -- I was raised with the maxim that "you cut your cloth according to your means." It's something that seems ever more appropriate these days, as a mountain of accumulated debt comes crashing down around us as a society. It's a decent first rule for approaching gift shopping as well: don't buy what you can't afford.

Even something as simple as that rule can open up several new questions. Where does being frugal (or sensible) cross the line to being (or looking) cheap? How do you balance quality against quantity? How do you scale back today having been a lavish gift-giver in years past?

One of the first steps one of my family members took this season may also be one of the simplest: being honest. While it's not easy telling relatives that you're looking to cut costs by cutting them out of your gift list, chances are they'll understand (we did). And, especially in this economy, you'll often find that they're grateful to have one less expense to deal with themselves (again, we were).

While that approach may be fine for dealing with extended family members, kids are a different story -- especially those who are old enough to understand that holidays equal gifts. Here too, though, honesty may well prove to be the best policy: letting kids know that they need to scale down their expectations is one way of ensuring that they're less disappointed when the big day arrives. As for whether there's a "right" way to do it? Who knows: I've seen my local news station advocating telling kids that Santa's broke this year because of the recession. Nothing like passing off your fiscal woes on a fictional character!

As for the question of quality versus quantity, my temptation is always to go with the former on big ticket purchases (just make less of them), while stocking stuffers and the like can always be budgeted downwards to spread the dollars around a little more. And you can also up the quality of the holiday by taking more time to do something, be it a walk or a trip to a park (weather permitting), or lighting a fire and getting some indoor s'mores going alongside a board game -- there are plenty of ways to flesh out a holiday and draw attention away from the gift pile.

Finally, make a point of remembering that the holiday season isn't about gifts: it's about spending time with loved ones. While it's nice to be able to spoil the people you love when times are good, there's no written rule that says it's absolutely necessary --regardless of what the endless commercials might be telling you. Spending time with people is far more valuable than spending a truck-load of cash on them, even if it's harder to do. And if that's true for adults, it's doubly true for kids. If in doubt, think back on any regular holiday where you received gifts as kid. Chances are you won't be able to remember more than one or two of the presents, and it's even less likely you'll have them left. The time spent with loved ones, however, is likely to stay with you forever -- proving its importance even if you didn't recognize it as a gift at the time.

Traditional Thanksgiving

silly_sad_machine — Wed, 26 Nov 2008 07:11:21 -0800

by silly_sad_machine

It's Thanksgiving in our part of the world, and for me it marks the first time in my life I've ever felt like an official adult - a man.

I'm 29, and for the last nine years I couldn't call myself a real adult. It just didn't make sense. I felt too much like I was still that kid in high school or that guy in college. In no way did I conform to any of the traits that I observed in the "adult" men in my life; I didn't own land or cattle, I didn't have any kids, I never balanced a checkbook or paid any taxes, and I didn't fall asleep in front of the warm glow of the Weather Channel. Hell, I still played video games and listened to groovecore. I was still in a band. I still played D&D with my friends.

Some things have certainly changed in the last few years, though. I graduated college, for one, and tossed myself into the workforce. Got a taste of Corporate America, got paid an embarrassingly low wage, became a statistic - you know the story. I started dating my little sister's best friend, as well (at my sister's behest), and found out my soul mate was not some stranger I had yet to meet but a girl from my past who had grown to become a woman. We got married in a fairly large ceremony that the two of us planned, and we moved to a new city to begin our life together.

But there are three things that have changed in my life that make me feel like a real man this Thanksgiving. And while you gnaw on your turkey leg or sit bloated and beached in your easy chair, I offer you these things that I am thankful for.

I am a father - Last July my wife gave me the greatest gift I've ever received, aside from our marriage: my daughter. Everyone says having a child changes your life, but becoming a father is no overnight transition. It's taken the better part of my daughter's 16 months for me to discover what it means to be a father (I think I've boiled it down to abject devotion, unexplainable worry and beaming pride) but I know I'll spend the rest of her life refining that understanding. Regardless, I am thankful for this: last Thanksgiving I was a husband with a baby, and this Thanksgiving I am a father.

I am a homeowner - About four years ago my grandmother made me the sole heir of my family's ancestral homestead. A plot of land and a smattering of houses in the rolling hills of the Midwest, the inheritance is the product of 50 years of work by my grandparents, great-grandparents and a collection of grand and great-grand aunts and uncles. My grandmother passed away a few years ago, and after an extended occupancy by some extended family, "the Hill" finally came under my control. In August my wife, daughter and I moved in, and I am this Thanksgiving thankful for my warm fireplace, the foresight and hard work of my elders, and for the fact that my daughter is growing up in the same house that I did.

I am a part of the majority - This is by far one of the most prominent reasons that I now feel like a man. During my teens and early 20s, I wasn't involved in politics or national affairs primarily because I didn't feel like anyone cared about me. The government was a place where old people made sure that America catered to other old people. Even in 2004, after decades of presidential administrations run by aging white men, the DNC offered John Kerry ... another aging white man. But this election, however, has proven to me that we are not a nation of scared Baby Boomers or angry fire-and-brimstone senior citizens. We are a country of Blackberry users, a country of first-person-shooters, MySpace friends and Starbucks Wi-Fi users. Generation X has taken the reins of our culture, and for that I am most certainly thankful.

Talking leads to marriage

silly_sad_machine — Tue, 04 Nov 2008 08:51:18 -0800

by silly_sad_machine

My daughter has a vocabulary of more than 50 words.

I’d never have believed it was so high if my wife hadn’t written them all down. Trotting around the house with my 15-month-old, you only get small glimpses of her lexicon. At any given point she only tosses around five or six words. She’ll point out something she sees, like a book or a toy, and call it out to you as if asking a question. “We’ve been calling this one a ‘ball.’ Is that still right?”

But seeing them all written down, all neat and orderly in a list that dropped off the bottom of the page and jumped into a new column … it was staggering. I saw words that I recognized, like “Da-da” (her first) and “Ma-ma,” or “yeah” and “more.” Some she can pronounce clearly, like “toy,” “door” and “up.” Others she has a bit of trouble with. “House” and “outside” sound exactly the same, like an exaggerated “how.” She can’t quite wrap her mouth around “c” sounds yet, and her “pancake” just comes out “pa-pa,” like a machine gun.

A father friend of mine told me once to treasure the first few months of my daughter’s life. “She’ll never be like this again,” he said. And he was right. In those first months she was totally dependent upon me. She couldn’t walk, she couldn’t talk … she couldn’t even support her own head. She was fragile and defenseless, and she relied on me for everything. And when I held her, she melted on my shoulder as content as she’ll ever be in her entire life.
It’s fairly obvious why evolution favored humans with shorter pregnancies. Our newborns could be like sharks – ready to take on the world before the placenta is even dry – but that’s not very romantic. Sharks must not have an affinity for warm fuzzies.

“She’ll never be like this again.” I can say it every day for the rest of my life, and it will be true every single time. Tomorrow she’ll get better at saying one of her words, and her mind will create a hundred or so brand-new connections. The day after that she’ll learn a new word, figure out how to climb onto our hearth, and see something she’s never seen before. Before I know it, she’ll be in school, she’ll learn about death, she’ll want a driver’s license and she’ll be getting married. And watching her put on her gown, I’ll remember the day I taught her how to say “squeeze,” and I’ll remember how when she said it, it just sounded like a high-pitched squeal. “Eeeeee!”

My daughter is a new baby girl every time she wakes up. I suppose the only way to deal with that is to remember that every time she wakes up, I’m a new dad, too.

A question of instinct

wonkitime — Mon, 20 Oct 2008 12:06:18 -0700

By Phil Stott

In conversation with a friend recently, I came across a child-rearing issue that many parents will have to face: when should a child start school? My friend wants his 3-year-old son to wait until he's almost 5 before starting kindergarten. The child's mother, meanwhile, thinks he'll be old enough to start just under a year from now, when he'll be almost 4. It's a situation, unsurprisingly, that has left the two at loggerheads.

The child in question is a bright boy, and would likely have no problems keeping up academically with his peers were he to start straight away. His dad, however, worries that starting him too young will put him at a disadvantage not just now, but throughout his entire school life. Physically, he's likely to be smaller and less developed in things like motor skills than other boys around him-a point his mother seems less worried about but one that, as a male who started school young, I can empathize with.

Sporting ability is important among boys, and can serve as a sorting mechanism in social situations. From being able to hit a tee-ball as well as your peers in kindergarten, to being developed enough to compete with them physically in high school (not to mention being able to perform without embarrassing yourself in a lunchtime pickup game in your 30s), sport matters to many males, and can play an important role in our relationships with one other. Sure, there are plenty of guys out there for whom it's not important, and many who grew up just fine without being good at sports. However, there are also many who still bear the scars of not being able to compete with their peers, to say nothing of the unspeakable horror of being the last selected for playground games. (By the way, I know someone has to be the last pick, I just don't want it to be my kid.)

In weighing all of that, it seems to me that starting a child at school and effectively handing them an age-group handicap places a significant barrier in their path to becoming a confident, well-adjusted adult.

Overall, the situation raises several issues, each of which could feasibly serve as their own separate topic on this site: Given their different needs and maturation rates, should boys start school later than girls? Or be educated separately altogether? At what point does trying to do what's best for your kid morph into "red-shirting" them (consciously delaying your child's entry into school to give them a better shot at success in their age group by pitting them against slightly younger kids)?

For me, though, the main point about the situation my friend is going through is what happens when a child's parents each hold diametrically opposite views on what's best for that child. That's something that's hard enough to deal with in any relationship, but in this case, there's one point I haven't mentioned yet, and that complicates the situation even further: they're divorced.

In any relationship, there are likely to be conflicting points of view, and none more so than with a couple that have split but are forced to continue to interact. There is an imperative in any disagreement to find a way forward, a situation that most of the time leads to one side agreeing to accommodate the other. In some situations, though, there's a danger that seeking to accommodate can cause as much harm as not doing so, and in those circumstances, parental instincts come into play.

While maternal instinct is something that is often mentioned in advice and publications on child-raising, very little is said of the instincts of the father (if indeed the father is mentioned at all in said publications-but more on that in a later post). The truth, though, is that male instincts are every bit as sharply honed as those of their female counterparts, but just in different ways. (One quick example-how many times have you known all along that a female you know is dating or married to a douche, long before the truth becomes apparent to
womankind?)

Tough as it may be, there are times when the savviest thing a daddy can do is to trust his own instincts. In the instance of my friend's son, the mother's instinct is that her child is academically able for school, so he should go. The father's instinct, however, is that he's not ready socially, and will gain great benefit from waiting a year. In weighing the two instincts, then, the question comes down to which side needs to accommodate the other. In this instance, as in most cases, the answer to that question is simple: the one whose instinct will do the child the most good in the long term.

Date Night

Toby — Thu, 16 Oct 2008 11:57:10 -0700

Dads,
Just a thought. As you can tell, I love to cook and share my love of food with my children. Please let me know if you would like some grown-up dinner ideas you can enjoy when the kids are in bed.
Cheers,
Toby

Chef Dads