Natural Papa » family

Review of The Evolution of Dad Film

Derek Markham — Mon, 07 Jun 2010 18:09:59 +0000

The role of the dad in families is rapidly changing. I know, state the obvious, eh? More fathers are opting to be the stay at home caregiver, there’s an increased interest for dads to be a bigger participant in their children’s lives, and more men are questioning their priorities. And that’s a good thing. Because if we were just continuing to follow along in the same parenting styles as our own parents, our children wouldn’t get the advantage of our own evolution as men and as fathers.

A new film, The Evolution of Dad, takes a hard look at the changing role of fathers, giving us a glimpse into the lives of dads who aren’t just playing lip service to fatherhood – they’re taking very active roles in what’s probably the most important job ever: raising human beings.

I got a chance to view a screening of The Evolution of Dad, and my first thought was, “It’s about time.”

Sure, there are plenty of books about fathers and fatherhood (but not nearly the number of titles as there are about mothers and motherhood), but this film is full of interviews with dads who have broken with tradition and chosen to be active, engaged fathers. It’s also got some great insights from experts in fatherhood and men’s issues, some of which are eye-opening, especially for those who haven’t explored the issues of what it means to be a good man, or a good father.

“Almost 100 years after an outspoken woman from Washington State decided that her father, a single and devoted parent of six, deserved to have a day dedicated to him similar to Mother’s Day, we follow Glazer’s personal journey as he explores the idea of how fatherhood has grown and changed over the years. What does it mean to be an involved American father today? How do dads deal with the challenges they face now, and how many of them are the same as those they faced so many years ago? Glazer discusses these questions, and more, through the words of fatherhood and parenting experts and the struggles of real dads.”

I watched The Evolution of Dad with my wife, and I kept glancing over at her as she caught pieces of the fatherhood puzzle, nodding her head in agreement with what was being portrayed in the film. And because sometimes our significant other won’t take things to heart if we tell them, only when they hear if from other sources, I felt grateful to have someone else verbalize some of the challenges and difficulties of fatherhood, such as the fact that many of us equate being a good father with our earnings (and as a consequence, our feelings of being ‘failure’ as a father when we’re not able to provide materially for our families in the way we would like to).

I really enjoyed The Evolution of Dad, and thought to myself “What a wonderful world it would be if more men made fathering a bigger priority in their lives.”

I know that my own journey of fatherhood would probably have been smoother if I had realized earlier that I wasn’t the only one struggling with these challenges, and saw the connection to other men and their own feelings on the subject. And having some historical perspective of fatherhood over the years made me realize how much our role has been shaped by our culture, and how hard it is to break out of the cultural norm.

The only issue I had with the film was that it tried to cover too much ground – the section on stay at home dads could have easily been its own feature. But that’s a small complaint, as the film was well done and the flow was easy to follow.

The Evolution of Dad is a film that ought to be watched by all fathers and mothers, and by young men and women as well – there are lessons for the dads and moms of the future, because parenting isn’t something that’s taught to us very well while growing up. It doesn’t have any easy answers to better fathering or being a more engaged dad, but I think you’ll walk away with a bunch of questions about your own role (or that of your husband) in the family. And knowing the questions is half the battle.

Connect with The Evolution Dad on Twitter or Facebook.

Click here to order “The Evolution of Dad” on DVD

Giants of Men

Derek Markham — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 12:00:17 +0000

[This is a revised version of a post originally published on Jan. 11, 2009, one that I felt was worth revisiting.]

This weekend, I buried my grandfather. He was a giant among men, and will be sorely missed.

He lost his wife of 65 years to cancer over two years ago, and he still lived at home (he was 90), but was unable to fully care for himself anymore. We knew that he wouldn’t last much longer, but it was still a shock to hear the news of his passing. He was my last grandparent still living, so perhaps that’s why his death was hard for me to take. I didn’t realize how much I missed my grandparents until they were all gone.

I heard so many good things about him at the funeral – how many people he had touched with his life, what a strong presence he had, and how much he valued his family and community. His funeral service was standing room only.

As I looked at my mother and her siblings on the stand, I saw them as they were now, getting old and now assuming the positions of matriarchs and patriarchs of their families. I no longer saw the uncles and aunts who always seemed so young to me, and who always looked up to their parents for guidance.

It brought up a lot of thoughts and feelings about family and relations for me. I realized that I was now only a single generation away from being the head of my family, and that felt strange. Could I live up to those standards? What will they say about me when I’m gone?

Every person at his funeral service expressed such respect for him that I found myself with a new admiration for his life. Perhaps the most common thing that people said about my grandpa was that he lived a good life and was passionate and committed to his principles. He left a legacy of service to others.

And I didn’t see that as I was growing up. All I saw was a grandpa. Not a person, not a man. But he was, all of his life – raising a family during the depression and then WWII, and living to see the era of laptop computers and digital cameras and cellphones. What a contrast to his childhood!

It started me thinking about the difference between men of his era and those of my generation. It seems that we’re losing something. I know that I did – both of my grandfathers passed away before I was wise enough to consider the wealth of experience in their lives. A whole generation of giants of men are leaving us, and with them, we’re also losing their ideals and virtues and principles.

When we lose these giants of men, these principles become endangered:

“He’s a good man.” The endorsement of a friend or community member was as simple as that. And it meant a lot. It said that person had honor and integrity and could be counted on to do what he said. My generation has lost this. We still endorse and recommend our friends, but it doesn’t carry the same weight anymore. We’ve become cynical and skeptical about others, and could use a return to trust and integrity in our world.

Cash is king. If you didn’t have the money back in the day, you didn’t buy it. You made it, or you scavenged it, or you did without. If something got broken, you repaired it (again and again). Today, everybody wants to extend credit to us, and we’re all purchasing things that we don’t really need, simply because we can buy them. Having that debt puts us under the gun to make more money every day, and having all that stuff doesn’t make us any happier.

Saving your money is honorable. Those growing up through the depression eras had different ideas about money, and saving it was higher in priority than spending it on consumer goods. Putting our cash aside for a rainy day or for the future is not super-relevant to my generation. We’ve been told that 401K plans and Social Security will be our safety net, not our savings. And we spend huge portions of our lives just paying for a house that we’re told is a good investment, with little to no cash savings.

A handshake deal is written in stone. If you shook on it, a verbal agreement was as good as a contract. Better, even. A man’s personal integrity was what bound him to do the right thing. Now we need multi-page contracts and background checks and credit checks to make a deal. We don’t trust anybody without a signature.

Marriage and children are sacred obligations. Marriage used to be a bigger commitment, not something to take lightly. A man took responsibility for his decisions and his actions, especially when it concerned his family. That’s not to say husbands or marriages or families were perfect then, but simply that it was a bigger deal to get married back then. Today our divorce rate is out of control, and fatherless children are the norm, not the exception. Men go through several wives these days, sometimes within a short time. Why get married if we aren’t really making a commitment?

Mind your own business. Gossip has been a part of the human experience for such a long time, but it used to be considered more of a bad thing. People were labeled as gossips because they were the exception, not the rule. Modern media has now made voyeurs of us – we want to see everyone’s dirty laundry and then judge them on it. Or we want to see someone else’s mistakes and screw-ups so we can laugh at it. If we put that same energy into changing our own lives, we’d be so much farther ahead and much better people because of it.

Do the right thing. Acting on principle is a rare thing these days. Most of us act out of our own best interest, not the good of the whole. Doing the right thing everywhere you go is hard, but it’s what separates the men from the boys.

Row your own boat. Men did what it took to get ahead and to support their families. They worked hard at honest jobs, taking pride in their work. We’ve now got generations that think the world owes them a living, and we expect to get ahead even if we don’t do anything. It’s become more about who you know than what you do, and honest labor, skilled or otherwise, isn’t given the respect it deserves.

***

This may seem overly simplified, but I really do think that we’re losing something in our culture, and urge everyone to connect with and learn from our elders before they’re gone.

I can only hope that the legacy I leave behind will be something celebrated by my children and theirs. But somehow I don’t think it will be the same.

What do you think?

It’s Not the Fall So Much as the Impact

Derek Markham — Sat, 23 Jan 2010 17:35:49 +0000

I had a major reality check this last week.

Maybe reality check is not the correct term for it – perhaps mortality check is. Something happened to me that changed my life in the space of a single second.

I’m writing this propped up in a reclining lawn chair in my living room, with my right ankle sitting upon a stack of pillows, in a cast. I’m down and out for a bit – at least from my usual routine. And I’m beating myself up a little for it.

You see, I broke one of the major rules of fatherhood, and I’m now dealing with the consequences of it and trying to focus on the lesson I’m learning now.

The rule I broke is “Thou shall not expose thyself to unnecessary danger.”

While I’ve flirted with that rule in the past, perhaps even broken it, I’ve never been caught out on it, or had to suffer the consequences yet. Why did I ignore the rule? That’s a damn good question, one that I’ve been asking myself over the last week. I can’t blame it on anything other than myself, but I can see where the weakness is.

I’m a bit of a thrills junkie – not an extreme athlete, or a daredevil, but I do get a kick out of the adrenalin rush from physical activity and flow and success. I’ve had some narrow misses with accidents, but nothing close enough to life-threatening to cause me to change my mind about risky behaviors. Until now.

I must have imagined that I had some sort of immortality or health advantage (or just plain dumb luck) so that I didn’t have to connect my own personal health with my family. But it doesn’t take a hard look now for me to see the interconnection between my actions and their consequences, and the state of my home.

As a father, anything that happens to me also happens to my family.

I’m not free to just risk anything in my life (or my life itself) whenever I wish to, because I’m a family man. My wife and kids depend on me to do my thing for the family – to be the dad, to be the man, to provide the income for all of us. And so I tend to be cautious with some things, such as driving – I drive like an old granny, as I am toting around precious cargo, my family, and want to keep them as safe as I can.

But I don’t usually take my own situation to be as serious as if I was my own kid – I tend to ignore the advice I give to my kids if I feel as if it doesn’t apply to me. And that’s a problem. If I don’t take care of myself, who will? It’s certainly not my wife’s place to take care of me, and I’m now old enough that I’m not coasting on the easy health of youth anymore, so I need to take responsibility for the health of my body. And that starts with not putting it in danger in the first place.

What happened last Friday had its roots in a couple of things, in my mind – one is ‘boys will be boys’, and the second is the intoxication that comes with being in the flow. I think that a combination of the two led to my downfall, and I’m here to testify that I’ve now been properly schooled in bodily risk and the importance of using my mind as well as my heart when faced with a potentially big decision.

Here’s how it went down:

It all started out innocently enough – a couple of guys headed out to the forest to go climbing. A new friend of mine had invited me to go trad climbing with him at Percha Creek, in NM, about an hour away from my house, and we had the correct gear and the skills to climb safely. We headed out of town on an absolutely beautiful January day – sunny and mild, with a hint of clouds. Our spirits were high, as we were both jazzed to get out climbing, and we got to know each other on the drive up.

As we approach one of the passes, my buddy said that his engine lights keep coming on, but everything looks and sounds fine with the car, so we keep going. Two minutes later, it dies and won’t crank over at all – battery is completely toasted. Luckily, it stalled right next to one of the few pull-offs on that road, and we could back it off the road.

Of course, we’re out of cell phone range, so my friend takes the dogs and his phone, and heads up the nearest ravine to try to get to a higher point for a call. I wander around the woods and pick up hippy treasures, such as a javalina skull and some odd stones and a handful of acorns.

My buddy gets back, and says the tow truck is on its way, but that it would be several hours before it could get there. The two of us go on a little walkabout, looking for something interesting to do while waiting, and we come across a mini cliff by the road, a little ways from the car. Most of it is slabby and low angle, easy to walk up, not much fun, but one section is vertical. We decide to grab our shoes and give it a go, to see what happens.

There’s an easy line on the cliff with nice pockets and good foot holds which tops out at a horizontal crack about 18 feet off the ground, and we both go up and down that a few times. It feels good, with no chossy or loose rock up there, so I look at the crack heading off to the right, and start messing about with the holds – the crack starts with fingertips to fingerlock size, opening up to hand jamb size farther on. The entire crack is only 15 feet or so long, with a good stepping off point at the other end.

One issue is – and it’s a big one – that there are no solid places for your feet starting about halfway across, and it looks almost slick at the end. The foot-holds up until then are almost invisible – they’re more like suggestions of foot-holds. Another issue is that we didn’t come to go bouldering, so we didn’t bring a crash pad for down below. If we had, that would have changed the whole outcome right there.

As I face the rock, the sun beats down on my back and I smell the pines and fallen oak leaves on the breeze, and even though we didn’t make it to Percha Creek, I’m feeling happy to be right where I was. It feels like a great day to be out on a little adrenalin adventure, having some guy time.

My body feels warmed up now, and I’m ready for something with a little more challenge to it, so I start working out the moves to cross the face using the crack. I get halfway across several times and get a sketchy feeling, so I come back across and get off the rock for a bit. My buddy gets up there and is starting to work the moves, but the same thing happens to him – at a certain point, there doesn’t appear to be anywhere for either foot to go, and it’s too high to just try to just muscle it, because there’s nowhere to go if your arms get pumped out.

I take a break and just stare at the face, as if I could somehow decipher the moves by looking more closely at it. Unfortunately, it always looks different from below, so anything you see from the ground may not actually look that way when you’re on the rock. There’s another smaller face just to the right of the crack, so I go try that for something different – it’s pretty easy – a few stems, plus a mantel and some balancy footwork, and I’m up. I do that one again, just for the rush of topping out.

While I’m on a high from that one, I decide that I’m going to commit to the crack for the entire route. I climb up to it, and I realize that I can just hustle across, smearing my feet on the face of the rock and moving quickly, rather than trying to find stable foot positions.

Halfway across, I see that crossing my hands over is the trick for getting past a tough point, and once I get there, I notice that I need to do it again, this time just smearing my feet on the face and hanging by a single hand-jamb while I move my hand into position. I focus on my hands, not looking down, and breathe through each move, and all of a sudden I can reach the other side with my foot. Yeehaw! I did it. I take a little break, and do it again, and it feels comfortable.

I’m now feeling a good rush of something in my body – endorphins, I guess – which is one of the reasons I climb. Even a short climb with a top-out gives me a kick, and sometimes just making progress on a climb, not completing it, is enough for a good buzz.

The sticking point:

At this point, I think I should have broken out my lunch and sat under a tree and just enjoyed the day, but I couldn’t leave well enough alone. My friend heads into the forest to go ‘see a man about a dog’, and I study the rock.

Almost subconsciously, I start messing around with different hand positions while I’m on the side of the route and can still reach a good foot hold, and I have no intentions of climbing it again.

But… before I knew it, I’m halfway across, committed to it, and my forearms are on fire. I’m getting a little freaked out now, as I can’t seem to stick the moves I need, and my feet are skating right off the face – I can’t get traction. I glance down, and I get a bad feeling about this. The rock face protrudes a bit about halfway down, so I’ll smash into that if I fall out of control, and my survival instinct doesn’t want to let me jump.

The next instant, one of my hands just lets go – I have no strength at all left in it – so I try to push off away from the rock with my other as I fall. And it in no way resembles any time I’ve bailed out or jumped off of other smaller rocks – then, I have been able to control the landing to some degree, but this time I was just falling.

And the impact:

I hit with my right ankle first, then my left hip, with my back and head hitting last. The shock was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It was so fast, and so intense, that all I could do was to scream – I couldn’t feel my ankle, but I knew that I had done something serious to it. The rest of me was bruised as well, but it didn’t appear that my skull or neck was broken, and I had no bloody gashes on me that I could see.

My buddy hears me screaming, and comes back around the corner and sees me laid out under the cliff and has no idea what just happened. But luckily for me, he’s a Wilderness First Responder and NOLS guy, so he takes charge and checks out all my major points, then gets a bag filled with snow for my ankle.

I’m still in disbelief. I’m in pain, and I can’t put any weight on my ankle, but I also can’t believe that I just fell off that cliff and injured myself. The tow truck arrives, and after an hour, we get to the garage, where another friend picks us up and drives me to my house. My wife is under the impression that I spent the day having fun climbing, so when she sees my buddy carry me into the house and I direct him to the bedroom, she isn’t sure what’s going on – maybe we’re playing a joke on her, she thinks.

After I get settled and tell the story, I see the look on my daughter’s face – she really doesn’t know what to think, and it’s scaring her a bit. Realizing that a parent can be injured, especially when it looks serious, is a hard thing for a kid.

Then it starts to feel real to my wife – that I’m laid up and will need lots of help for some time, plus I’m in pain and I don’t really know what the extent of my injuries are.

The ripples widen:

It begins to strike me now how much my life has changed in this short time, and how it will affect my family, and how fortunate I was.

I’m the wage-earner, so if I was working at a 9 to 5 location-dependent job, especially anything requiring me to move or walk, I would be out of work for quite some time. I’m fortunate to work from home, and can (if I need to) work propped up in a lawn chair, so this doesn’t affect me right now. Otherwise, the financial impact on my family would be severe. As it is, it may still be expensive with medical bills.

We have a crawling baby in the house, and I can’t catch him and pick him up while on crutches, and I can’t drive the family or play at the park with the kids. I’m having a hard time seeing myself propped up at the sink washing dishes, or at the stove, cooking dinner. Plus, I don’t think I’ll be doing any lifting or carrying of such things like groceries or garbage or laundry, so my contribution to the family just dropped by a huge degree. Instead of being a working member of the family, the dad, I’m now having to be cared for, as if I was another kid, and this really changes the dynamic and rhythm of the family.

When I was up on that rock, I didn’t realize how many things would be affected by my actions, and I failed to see how serious the consequences would be for my health. I let myself get caught up in the flow, buoyed up by adrenalin and thinking only of myself and the next minute. And that was a mistake for me. Perhaps I considered the fall, but not the potential impact that the fall would have not only on myself, but on the lives of those around me.

Now I’ve got eight weeks that I have to stay off my ankle, and the possibility of surgery. Plenty of time to meditate on the foolishness of risking my neck for a brief thrill.

[The x rays show that I have a trimalleolar fracture in the ends of my right tibia and fibula, and I'm still waiting to hear the verdict from the MRI - if my soft tissues are stable enough to keep the bones in place as it's healing or not.]

It’s too bad that it took a serious accident for me to realize how lightly I took my own safety up until now, but I’m of a mind that it’s better late than never.

Do me a favor and learn from my mistake: remember that your health impacts the ones that you love, and think (at least) twice before risking bodily harm.

Thanksgiving Thoughts: Be Grateful for What We Have

Derek Markham — Fri, 27 Nov 2009 03:56:08 +0000

After sharing a great meal with my family on Thanksgiving Day, I sat out by the fire on our back patio, thinking of what I was grateful for this year. I pondered the fact that our giving of thanks quickly becomes just the prelude to the extremely commercial shopping experience of our modern holiday season.

I pulled out the video camera and caught the essence of my thoughts to share with you here. In a nutshell, we here in the U.S. live by pretty high standards compared to a lot of the world, and I think we would all benefit by remembering that and being grateful for what we have.

Too often we are focused on stuff, and yet that stuff is just that: stuff. It won’t make us happier, it won’t make us more successful, and it won’t make us better husbands, wives, or parents. Let’s give thanks this holiday season for what we already enjoy: our family, our friends, our community, and the fact that our basic needs are always met.

Image: k4dordy at Flickr

Providing for Your Family isn’t about Presents, it’s about Presence

Derek Markham — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 21:59:55 +0000

I’ve been following the works of Jonathan Fields for some time now, mostly for the great insights on being an entrepreneur that I found in reading his book Career Renegade. Today, however, he wrote about something close to my heart – fatherhood. More specifically, the trials of providing for our families, and how that can actually cause major issues for our children.

“Simple truth that us men have trouble wrapping our heads around…

Being a “provider” isn’t all about money, it’s also about “providing” love, attention, support, inspiration, compassion and guidance.

It’s about being there to snuggle and hug, to listen and play, to encourage dreams, and to foster within our kids an understanding, through our actions, that these are the things being a parent is all about. And, that, despite the fact that we need to work, we love, more than anything else, to be with them. That’s pretty hard to do when you’re never there or worse, when you’ve become so alienated from your kids, you’d all “prefer” to be apart.”

His analogy is right on – we shouldn’t be providing presents, but rather “presence”. I’ve written before about the value of being present with our children (with our partner as well), and I highly recommend reading Jonathon’s article, “Daddies Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Strangers” and leave him a comment (or leave one here, if you wish).

I made the choice this year to be self employed, in part for the flexibility that it gives me in being more in touch with my kids and my wife, and also because I can work from home, which makes me more available to them. I completely identified with the guy “Peter” that Jonathan talks about when I was working for someone else, and I’ve been able to make an effort toward being more present with my kids since then. However, I still spend way more time working than I should, because the pressure to provide the basic necessities for my family weigh heavily on me.

Reading other people’s accounts of struggling with the work/life balance can make it seem less lonely, and we can help each other by sharing our experiences. What I want to know, dads, is how you have learned to juggle the demands of work and family? Or, if you haven’t learned that yet, what are you struggling with?

Image: Neeta Lind at Flickr

Fatherhood: 100 Ways to be a Better Father

Derek Markham — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 05:13:58 +0000

Fatherhood is a tricky proposition. We all want to be great dads, but chances are, our fathers never sat down with us and taught us how to be one.

And we don’t necessarily want to be our fathers. I mean, we want to emulate their positive influence on us, but we also want to do it our own way. And because children tend to spend more of their time with their mother, not being the greatest dad ever isn’t as obvious. No matter who we are, though, we can always improve our relationship with our kids and our spouse, and we can redefine the meaning of fatherhood each and every day.

There’s not as big of a movement toward better ‘fathering’ as there is toward better mothering. No big fancy fatherhood magazines, no Oprah for dads, no real exchange of fatherhood improvement programs. There’s just Natural Papa. (I’m kidding. There’s a bunch of great dad blogs out there.)

I’m a crappy dad sometimes, yet I hope that I’m always learning how to be a better father, so I felt moved to put some of my thoughts on fatherhood down in words to share with you.

I read a post called ‘Tackle Any Issue With a List of 100′, by Luciano Passuello, a couple of weeks ago, and then later I came across ’100 Ways To Live A Better Life, by Dragos, which was inspired by ’100 Ways to Be a Better Leader’, by Mike King, which was inspired by ’100 Ways To Show Boldness’, by Armen, which was originally inspired by… You guessed it, Luciano’s post about lists of 100. Whew. Got that straight?

Anyway, after reading those, I thought I would format my ideas on fatherhood into my own list of 100. If you have something to add, I’d love a comment about it.

100 Ways to be a Better Father

Be present with your children.
Heap lavish amounts of praise on your kids.
Focus on the positive when speaking to your children.
Say I love you. A lot.
Don’t be afraid to show your emotions to your family.
Work on improving your relationship with your wife or partner.
Take time out from work for family time.
Laugh at yourself. All the time.
Listen to your kids with all of your attention.
Learn new things by teaching your children about them.
Start a personal journal.
Hold your kids accountable for their actions and words, but don’t use punishment to teach..
Leave your watch and daytimer on your desk sometimes.
Make a meal for your family.
Do something wacky and unpredictable in front of your kids.
Spend some time one-on-one with your child.
Get moving. Have a fitness plan in place and get your kids to join in.
Take more walks, and leave the car at home.
Fall in love with your wife. Again.
Admit you’re wrong when you are.
Forgive your dad for any grudges you hold against him.
Teach a new dad what you’ve learned so far.
Take time for yourself, so you can bring that sense of fulfillment with you to the family.
Remember what you hated to hear from your parents as a kid and vow to be different.
Read out loud to your children.
Leave your work issues at your job. Don’t dump on your kids because your day was bad.
Drop your change in a jar each day. When full, open a savings account for your child.
Once in a while, ask your kids what you can do better. Then do it better.
Hugs and kisses are golden. Be generous.
Let your kids make their own choices.
Get out in nature with the family.
Count to 10 before you react to your children’s actions.
Remember that kids mirror our actions, so watch what you say to or around them.
Parenting is a shared responsibility. Jump in and do something mom normally does.
Learn from your elders – ask them what they’ve learned as fathers.
When a child does something not so nice, separate their actions from them in your mind. A child is never bad, even though their actions may be.
The next time you feel like giving up on something, do it anyway and use it as a teaching moment.
Remember that everyone is somebody’s child.
Listen to yourself. Do you sound like your dad? Is that a good thing?
Give yourself a break. I haven’t met a father yet who doesn’t make mistakes.
Unplug the TV and pretend it’s broken once in a while. Or hide it.
Go with your child to school once in a while. Meet the teacher and ask how you can help.
Make your health and fitness a priority so you’ll be around for your kids for a long time.
Teach the value of service to others by volunteering in your neighborhood, church, or school.
Write love notes and leave them for your kids to find.
Read a book about fatherhood.
Write a book about fatherhood.
Make some snacks for the kids as a surprise.
Speak as one with your wife, so your kids don’t play you off on one another.
Do you say yes all the time? Use no when you mean it, even if they don’t like it.
Do you say no all the time? Say yes once in a while.
Snuggle with your kids.
Show your wife respect always. Make sure your kids do also.
Take the time to really explain things to your children. Don’t just say “because I said so.”
Ask for help if you need it. Don’t suffer from excess pride.
Accept who you are, but don’t settle. Strive to improve yourself every day.
Smile at your children and your partner.
Make amends when you’re wrong or grumpy or harsh with your kids.
Periodically assess your life and change course if needed. Don’t be unhappy just because you think you can’t change.
Take a class or learn a new skill with your kids.
Act as if you’re the best dad ever.
Imagine you’ve only got one week left to live. How would you treat your kids? What’s stopping you from doing that right now?
Let your kids see you cry.
Explore every park in your town.
Once in a while, take a day off just because, and spend it with your family.
Find out about your family history and start sharing it with your kids.
Give high fives for each tiny accomplishment they make.
Get out of debt as quick as you can, and teach your kids about the value of being debt-free.
Take a big leap when you see an opportunity, and show your children about trust, faith, and the virtue of following your dreams.
Get down on their level and try to see things as they do. Chances are, you’ve forgotten what it’s like.
Learn some really corny kid jokes and use them often.
Hold a family meeting and get your kid’s input on important decisions.
Don’t just give your kids the answers to questions. Show them how to find the answers.
Remember, they’re never too old for piggyback rides.
Have patience with your children. Don’t expect them to be perfect.
Don’t insist on conformity. Let your kids follow their dreams, not yours.
Hold their hands, literally.
Remember to let your children save face. Embarrassing them in front of their friends is not cool.
Keep your relationship issues between you and your wife. Don’t let your kids take on all your crap.
When your children were babies, you gushed over them. Do the same thing for them now.
Don’t gossip around your kids.
Stand up for the weak, the oppressed, the underdog.
Grow a beard. (Actually, I just put that in to see if you were paying attention.)
Take your child to work with you and explain what you do for a living.
Make something by hand with them. Don’t worry about perfection, just enjoy the process.
Once in a while, give them a “get out of jail free” card.
Tell your children how much they mean to you.
Follow through on your promises to them.
Give your kids responsibilities.
Speak to your children as your equals. Give them the respect you ask for.
Plan surprises for them and keep them guessing.
When speaking to other adults, act as if your kids were listening.
Play games with your children. Let them win sometimes, but don’t make it obvious or easy.
Before you walk in the door from work, take some deep breaths and leave your work outside.
Give mom the day off once in a while, and get the kids to help you pamper her.
Be generous with your time, your energy, and your money. Give freely to those in need.
Cultivate your fatherhood Superpowers.
Don’t let other adults get away with unacceptable behavior around your kids.
Remember the Golden Rule. It does apply to your children as well.
Find your center and define what truly matters to you. Make that your inner retreat when life throws you a curve ball, and share that with your kids.

What have I missed? Please leave a comment with your addition to this list.
Image: Paul Keleher at Flickr

Facebook is Putting My Mother Out Of Business

Derek Markham — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 03:21:31 +0000

We used to get a phone call from our mothers once a week with the news from home: weddings, funerals, births, stories of who was doing what (and with whom). Now we can just login and have all of that same information in real-time, with social media.

My buddy recently heard about a wedding proposal in his family via Facebook, and he joked that social media has enabled us to tell our moms what’s happening, instead of the other way around. I laughed because I hadn’t experienced that yet, but the next time I opened Facebook, it happened to me.

I was scrolling down through my friend’s status updates, and there was my sister-in-law with a message that said “Susie is… knocked up.” Woah. Hadn’t heard that through the family grapevine yet…

As a freelancer, I spend tons of time online, either writing, researching, or promoting my work. I started using Facebook so that I could do more networking for my writing, but now I also keep up with friends and family there. I may not always call them to find out how they’re doing, but I’m tuned into their channel just the same, through social media.

I also use Twitter quite a bit throughout the day, partially as a micro-blog, and partially to communicate the latest news and cool links from people I follow. I can ask a question, and if someone has an answer, I hear back almost immediately. It’s become an important tool for me.

Status updates and Tweets are more limited in some aspects of expression than a phone call or face-to-face conversation, but they are richer in others.

Social media messages:

Can be in real-time, posted live
Are quicker, with no waiting for someone to answer their phone or to leave a message
Can have a link or picture or music in them for additional context
Make you un-shushable

The phone is still great, and meeting in person is even better, but when you can’t do either, then social media is the perfect compromise.

If our mothers took their power to the web, there’s no telling what would happen.

We’d have Grandma on Twitter, telling family stories, 140 letters at a time…

Image: Alessio85 at Flickr under Creative Commons License

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