Holiday Harmony: Expert Tips for Joyful Celebrations

Laughing Our Way to Peaceful Celebrations

Introduction: Taming the Holiday Circus

Ah, the holidays! I have a LOT of opinions about the holidays- check out What I Love and Hate About the Holidays. This time, I wanted to give preemptive methods to curb the crazy stuff. Let’s stick to knowing that it’s a time for joy, togetherness, and the occasional kid-caused chaos. So, I decided to check out what the pros had to say. We've gathered expert advice from Dr. Laura Markham, Dr. Ross Greene, and Dr. Alan E. Kazdin to help you keep the holiday cheer intact while enjoying a few laughs (and possibly more turkey) along the way.

Holiday messes are unavoidable - buy a more potent vacuum cleaner.

Diwali Delight: Dr. Laura Markham's Wisdom

During Diwali or any festive occasion, it's easy for kids to go wild with firecrackers. Dr. Laura Markham suggests setting clear boundaries with a smile and involving them in safe activities, like lighting diya lamps. (Yes, but do you feel comfortable about asking them to light anything with a match deliberately? - James)

Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, Kwaanza and More: Insights from Dr. Ross Greene

When Thanksgiving rolls around, or it’s Hanukkah or Kwaanza and it's time to light the menorah or the kinara, kids can turn into restless little creatures. Dr. Ross Greene advises engaging them with meaningful tasks. Let them decorate the table, share stories about the holiday, and don't forget to add a sprinkle of humor. (Yes, laugh, laugh, laugh. After all, you’ll be cleaning up the mess later. - James)

Last touches to Thanksgiving display. Notice the LED, fireless candle. That’s what I’m talking about!

Crafting Christmas Magic: Dr. Alan E. Kazdin's Advice

The Christmas tree is up, and ornaments are at stake! Dr. Alan E. Kazdin recommends positive reinforcement to keep those prized decorations intact. Create a "Safe Crafting Zone," but make sure to laugh off the occasional glitter explosion (And try to stay positive as you continue to find glitter in the weirdest places all the way through to Mother’s Day - James).

Better to do the cutting on the floor and not once the ornaments are hanging on the tree.

Counting Down to the New Year: Dr. Laura Markham's Tip

As the New Year approaches, kids' routines may face bedtime upheaval. Dr. Laura Markham suggests planning a family-friendly countdown with games and snacks. And don't forget to bring out the party hats and, of course, the laughter! (And having a couple of glasses of champagne will help keep your own levity level high, too - James).

This is a kid-friendly early fireworks display - s.m.a.r.t.!

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Holiday Harmony in a Nutshell: Key Points to Remember

• Set clear boundaries for firecrackers during Diwali and involve kids in safe activities.

• Engage restless children during Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, Kwaanza and other celebrations with meaningful tasks.

• Create a designated crafting area for Christmas ornaments, using positive reinforcement to keep them safe.

• Plan a family-friendly New Year's countdown, allowing kids to celebrate while maintaining their sleep schedule.

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All jabs aside, I think that with these expert tips and a hearty dose of humor, you're well-equipped to enjoy the holiday season while managing your kids’ occasional or endemic antics. So, let the holidays be filled with laughter, love, and, most importantly, food!

Er, I mean, loads of cherished memories! 🎉🤣👨‍👩‍👧‍👦✨

The Hilarious Quest for Father-Son Halloween Costumes

A Tale of Homemade Costume Woes

As a dad at 65, now 75 (but looking 35, right?), I've been around the Halloween block a few times. Every year, I try to convince my 10-year-old son Aaron to ditch his ninja costume obsession. You see, since he was a wee lad of 3, he's been all about those stealthy, silent warriors. And here's the kicker: he doesn't even like ninjas! Go figure, right?

But hey, we've got a tradition going, and who am I to crush a perfectly good Halloween tradition? That is until you outgrow the outfit and really need to find something new. So I proposed we try to create our own father-son duo costumes this year. Can we actually get it done in time? Can we have a consensus about the costumes?

The Search for the Ultimate Father-Son Costume

From what I’ve read, the quest for the perfect father-son Halloween costume can be a wild ride. You scour the internet for inspiration, only to find Pinterest boards that look like they belong in a modern art museum. I mean, have you seen those intricate DIY tutorials? They made me feel woefully untalented.

So, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Armed with glue, scissors, and a whole lot of optimism (thank you, Javier, for giving me some advice) I embarked on the "DIY Costume Adventure of a Lifetime." But let me tell you, folks, it's not all smooth sailing in Costume-land.

The Perils of Homemade Costumes

1. Glue Mishaps: Ever tried gluing sequins onto a costume at 2 AM? We have, (well, my wife Monika, actually) and it's like trying to perform brain surgery with a butter knife. Aaron ended up with a sparkly dinosaur for the school’s talent show.

2. Sewing Scares: Sewing machines are a breed of their own. I’ve tried - my friend Ana lent me her Singer - but two attempts and I accidentally sew my thumb to the costume. Let's just say I’m opting for duct tape from now on.

3. Pinterest Fails: Those Pinterest tutorials? Yeah, they're secretly created by aliens with three extra thumbs. I tried to follow one for a mummy and found out toilet paper is NOT as strong as it claims to be.

4. The Time Crunch: Homemade costumes take time, and procrastination is the real monster of Halloween. Suddenly, you're hot-gluing (or duct-taping) cat ears to a cardboard box 30 minutes before the show starts.

Embrace the Chaos, Embrace the Fun?

After careful consideration and minor cuts, I gave up on the homemade costume idea. It seems to me that in the end, homemade costumes are not supposed to be the end goal, they’re memory-making events that bring a lot of laughter, and embarrassment and require a cleaning crew to deal with the aftermath. I’m sure they make for legendary Halloween stories.

Aaron decided to play along and come up with his own DYI Halloween costume.

So, whether your kid insists on being a reluctant ninja for the seventh year in a row or you embark on a DIY adventure that turns your concept for T-Rex into something that looks more like a misunderstood broccoli, remember this: Halloween is all about embracing the wacky, the wild, and the wonderfully messy.

As for Aaron and me, we’re not discarding making up our own costumes yet. We’ve been to every Halloween costume store here in Las Vegas and still cannot find anything we like. One thing's for sure – if we do craft our own father-son costume duet it's bound to be an obnoxious adventure, filled with more dad jokes and Aaron’s sarcasm than you can shake a candy-filled pumpkin at!

Happy Halloween, you brave costume creators! May your glue guns stay hot, your sewing needles stay unattached to thumbs, and your Halloween memories be unforgettable.

And yes, remember to take a lot of pictures!

When You Hate Being a Mom

Last week I got together for breakfast with my good friend Deniece Williams, Grammy-award artist and mom extraordinaire. As usual, our conversation veered towards discussing our kids and trading parenting horror stories: car keys borrowed without permission, surprise meals for mom that ended up in disaster, a huge Amazon credit card bill for Legos… the list goes on. Most of them we eventually learn to laugh off. Some still made us only half-laugh. I had just shared a particularly crazy one, which had us roaring with laughter when Deniece said:

“James, I love being a mom. But there have been times that… Hmm-hmmm!”

She shook her head with a smile and took a deep breath.

I immediately knew what she meant, and I was reminded of how willfully ignorant I had been.

As a guy, I’ve always idealized moms to be moms, loving, accepting, and sometimes super frustrated with kids but always ready to turn the page and kiss the boo-boo better. That’s a mom’s job, right? I’d never stopped to consider how motherhood affects a woman. I mean, beyond the obvious.

Sometimes we don’t stop to think about what sacrifices have been made, which paths have not been taken, and how dreams get postponed, shelved, and, more often than not, forgotten. Just a quick browsing through statistics will tell you that mothers are the ones pulling the short straw when it comes to parenting. Either they drop everything they had planned in life or continue with their plans juggling so many hats that they end up with little to no me-time. The way I see it, society has made it so that mother is expected to pull triple duty without the support of their employer and often their partner and kids.

Now, let me be clear, I have not met a single mom who regrets being a mom. In fact, they regard their kids as their greatest achievement and joy. No sacrifice is too great, and no task too daunting if it means their children will be happy, healthy, and successful.

But I’ve discovered that they get reprimanded and shunned by others when they dare speak differently from the motherhood script they’re supposed to follow. The pressure to be a Mom goes beyond the actual duties and tasks that a mother tends to have to do for her kid. It’s also an imposed vision of what mothering can and cannot do. Admitting and being vocal about the negative emotions that surface at times is not something society at large wants to hear - they prefer you sing the praises of child-rearing. So, instead of being encouraged to explore these feelings, mothers are guilted into silence.

As we all know, bottled-up emotions have a knack for causing Krakatoa-style eruptions, which mostly lead to more festering and possibly more meltdowns. Or maybe you push them down so deep you start regarding your kids as frienemies?: “Sure, green trousers with orange polka dot tee, what a great outfit for your first date! Now, here’s a spray paint can; go leave her a message on her sidewalk; she’ll love it”  See what I mean?

So all of you moms reading this, please know that when you hate being a mom, you need to speak out! When you share these feelings, you’re actually helping change this stagnant view of who you are and who you need to be as a mother and bringing a lot of truth into this very whitewashed concept.

 (I explore more extensively the sentiment of hatred in parents in my complimentary ebook, How to Stop Hating Being a Parent, which you can download here.).

Gifting an Experience

If you follow my blog and podcast then you know my 8-yr-old son Aaron is not very interested in any gifts other than Robux, the virtual currency players use in Roblox to acquire all sorts of virtual stuff, like helmets or designer clothing - though I’m sure this feature is not unique to Roblox I’m still suffering sticker shock over a special hairdo and a weird armor-like suit Aaron “bought”, which can’t even be worn in the real world! Having said that, I don’t think most people would want to actually wear it outside their gaming.

But I digress. The bottom line is that Aaron is not interested in the rest of the toys and gifts kids his age normally want, at least not in the same measure - even his ever-favorite Lego had taken a hit, he hardly touched them these days. I’ve been finding myself searching for interesting science kits, outstanding board games or card games, and even almost got him a baby Yoda, though he doesn’t watch The Mandalorian nor has developed the Star Wars itch.

What kind of gift can you get a kid who really doesn’t seem to want anything?

“Why don’t you get him an experience? That’s what’s hot these days, so my son tells me,” my brother Mark suggested.

“An experience? He’s a little bit young for that, don’t you think?”

“Not that kind of experience, Jimmy. Geez! I mean, like a trip or a special playdate with friends.”

“An experience, huh.”

“Yeah, like those places where you go to paint and drink wine,” Mark paused for a second. “That one is only for adults.”

“Glad you clarified that for me.” 

I thought about what Mark said. Maybe he was unto something? I thought it was worth a try, so I looked for gift experiences online. A quick search took me to PureWow.com and their article on suggested experiences for kids (here’s the link: https://www.purewow.com/family/experience-gifts-for-kids) Their list covers a wide range of kits and memberships that I found cool and potentially fun. Knowing my kid though I figured learning how to make chocolate truffles or a virtual tour on Amazon.com might not cut it. Besides the Roblox coding course listed in the article - more hours in a digital environment? I don’t think so - I really was unsure of what or if anything would interest Aaron. 

I realized it was Aaron who needed to look through this list. I was lying in bed with my laptop open on this website when he ran in.

“Dad, can I have the iPhone?”

“You know you can’t.”

“Ok.”

“Come here. Let me show you something.”

Half-heartedly, he slumped himself next to me.

I explained to him what gifting an experience was and showed him the offerings. I did not tell him the gift was for him, though.

We spent about 45 minutes going through the website’s recommendations, discussing the merits of each. There were theme park adventures, and wood crafting kits. I was trying to measure his level of interest by how long his attention lingered over each entry. I got mostly “meh” and downright disinterest. So far the magic show had held his attention the longest.

“The magic show sounds kinda cool,” I said as casually as possible.

“Yeah”

“I mean, if someone gifted you a magic show it would be fun, right?”

“Meh. Maybe.”

“I could be your assistant…”

Aaron rolled his eyes and laughed.

I woke up a couple of hours later. I could say that this constant napping is an age thing but, alas, it’s a talent I share with my Dad, who could fall asleep anywhere at any time his entire life.

I found Aaron in the living room building a Lego structure, which he hadn’t done in a long time. I sat on the couch, just watching him.

He noticed me and ran over to show me what he had put together.

“Dad?”

“What?”

“Can we look at that list again?”

As we sat side by side looking at the webpage again I realized that searching for the perfect gift experience had become the experience itself.

Life can be so simple sometimes.

Lucky Dad

As a kid growing up in Iowa in the 1950s I remember believing how finding a four-leaf clover would bring one good luck. There were even songs about it - I don’t remember the lyrics. With St. Patrick’s Day here I found myself remembering the clover I hadn’t thought about in years.

I was six when I first learned about the good luck clover. I was instantly hooked. My friends and I would typically be on the lookout for these anytime we hit the open fields or empty lots, where we would gather to play ball. 

It soon became a little obsession of mine. For a while, I would walk to school staring down at the sidewalk (I was told those found growing between cracks brought the most luck) and examining all grassy lawns as well as all weed-infested planters along the way. My older brother eventually noticed my strange behavior and wanted to know what was I looking for.

“Loose change”, I lied.

“In Mrs. Jackson’s petunias?”

“You never know”. He shook his head with a “just another Jimmy scheme” look on his face.

Like I needed competition in finding a four-leaf clover! There was no way I was sharing my good fortune with anyone!

Weeks went by and not one of us had found one. By now I’d already tried all known methods to find one, including using peek-a-boo (quickly looking at planted areas, trying to catch one before they hid again - yes, apparently lucky clovers could do that) or blinking three times and spinning clockwise ten times before trying to find one. BTW, this last one should never be attempted on a full stomach.

When I look back I recall I spent weeks and weeks really deep in my “four-leaf-clover-or-bust” mission. In reality, I’m sure it was only two or three at the most but, boy, were they intense!

Then one day it happened. 

I had just put down my lunchbox by a mixed grassy/weedy patch near school when I noticed the tiny, bright green miracle plant staring back at me. I suddenly realized I wasn’t sure what to do next. Did I have to pull it? Was it enough to see it to be the winner? 

I suddenly became aware that there were other kids around so I just reached out, ripped the little thing without much ceremony, and stuffed it into my lunchbox. Good luck was finally mine!! 

My friends were impressed, and not a little jealous. It felt good to be the hotshot for the next couple of days.

That is until  I heard that the three-leaf clover was even luckier than the one with four leaves, and another boy had found one on St. Patrick’s Day.

Three-leaves? St. Patrick? Who’s that anyway? I had invested the better part of what seemed like a lifetime to get that lucky clover and it turned out it wasn’t that lucky anyway?

“When’s that?”

“March.”

“But it’s May! I have to wait a whole year!?” That hit me like a punch to the gut.

The disappointment must have been written across my face when I got home that day because, as luck would have it,  my Dad had just gotten back from a sales trip and was relaxing in the living room when I came in. Caught up in my own thoughts I had not noticed him and was startled when he called me over.

“Jimmy! Come over here.”

Mom was in the kitchen but had already fixed him a coffee - his routine after days on the road. He was quietly sipping it.

“Hey, Dad.”

“What’s on your mind?”

At six years old I still felt I could tell my dad anything.

“My lucky clover is not so lucky.” With dejection, I took the now very limp little plant from my pocket, where I kept it wrapped in a handkerchief, and told him what I’d learned earlier.

My Dad held the little clover in his hand, gently extending each of the leaves. That was one dead-looking plant, and I suddenly felt sad for it.

“Well, I’ll be. A lucky clover, you say?”

“Yeah, but not the luckiest.” 

“ I don’t know much about three or four-leaf clovers, son. But I know you make your own luck in life.”

He could see his pep talk wasn’t working. 

“What I’m trying to say is that, as I look at this four-leaf clover, I think how lucky you already are. You have a family.” Then he tapped each of the leaves lightly, calling out our names. “See? A leaf per each of us. Family. You already are the luckiest kid in the world.”

I could see this was going to go from sappy to sappier once my mother came in so I nodded, and quickly took my leave.

“Hey, don’t you want your clover?”

“You can keep it, dad.” And I ran into my bedroom. I probably don’t need to tell you about the mixture of conflicting emotions I was experiencing at that moment. I think I cried - I still wanted to have the luckiest clover. Yet something in me did listen because from that point on I stopped looking for lucky clovers, or any lucky charms, for good.

Thinking back about that day I recognize how right Dad had been right. We make our own luck in life, and I believe lucky clovers are there to remind us of this. 

My dad had been right about luck, and he had also been right about family. When I raise my three-leaf clover today on St. Patrick’s Day, it’s my three children I’ll be thinking of, a leaf for each of them, and count myself the luckiest dad in the world.

Learning to Keep My New Year Resolutions

I know everyone makes them, but how many people keep them? I’m talking about New Year’s Resolutions. I always write them down so I can check how many I succeeded at. As I have gotten older the list gets shorter and shorter. So I thought that this year, before I make any new resolutions,  I would look back at the ones I made last year and see how I did in 2021. 

Resolution 1 - “Try to be a Better Person”

I guess the keyword here is “TRY”. I did try - and I can say that with 100% honesty. This is the important part. However, when all is said and done, I don’t think I did too well on this one. I can recall several instances in which I blatantly shoved it to the side and proceeded to be way too cantankerous. On the other hand, there were moments in which I did get it right.  For example, I didn’t lose my temper over bad driving nearly at much, and I refrained from ripping a certain home security company a new one after calling me for the umpteenth time to sell me the home security package I’ve already brought from them - I’m particularly proud of this one. So, for 2022, I hope my calm persona prevails over my loud and excitable nature.

Resolution 2 - “Be a Better Father”

This resolution is the reason I set out to write my book Unlocking the Secrets for Successful Parenting. Part of my understanding of my role as a father has been to examine what has worked and what needs improvement in my parenting skills and in my relationships.

For example, there were many a morning in which Aaron said to me, ‘Dad, don’t think I will do well on the test today”. I would say calmly, “I just want you to try your best, I can’t ask for more.” I felt this made him more at ease before an exam - I still can’t see how threatening a kid with punishment if they fail, right before the test, can be beneficial. 

I think I nailed this resolution n 2021, and I’m continuing on in 2022 pondering and discovering the nuances of parenting and applying them at home and in more books.  But don’t ask Aaron for his opinion, I’m sure he’ll disagree since his weekday iPhone privileges were revoked :-)

Resolution 3 - “Be Healthy”

Easy enough, I thought back then. Eat the right foods and go to the gym and get back into shape. Nope. Didn’t happen. I actually managed to get new bad eating habits (three breakfasts in one morning, four times a week, became a new normal for a while). I practically forgot about the gym, coming up with whatever excuses not to go and/or working out in a burst of energy and pulling a muscle, which kept me from going back to the gym for weeks on end. And then, repeat. By December I had really packed in extra pounds and even my doctor told me off me about it.

But since the new year began, I’ve been walking a mile and 1/2 a day. I’m using light weights at the gym to avoid injuring myself, and I’ve stopped eating like a pig. Well, half a pig, I need to watch out for those extra breakfasts trying to entice me out of my diet!

Resolution 4 (the last one) - “Be Happy”

I was able to keep this resolution in 2021! On a personal goal level  I followed my inspiration, tried new things, set out to create new projects and ventures, and slowly but surely I’ll be reaping this harvest in the coming months.

But infinitely more important, my family is my true happiness.  When I look at the chaos the world is in today, and the daily frustrations everyone feels, I come home to my family and everything melts away.  Aaron runs to greet me with “I love you Daddy”, and my wife shares with me her day. And despite how long or crazy the day may have been we find a moment to have dinner together.   No man, or woman, could ask for anything more.

I’m not going to add any new resolutions for 2022. Instead, I’ll continue to grow and improve on these, and hopefully, I’ll ace #1 and #3.

What I Love and Hate About the Holidays

Everyone has a holiday tradition, a holiday recipe, a holiday story that shapes how they celebrate what we call the Holiday Season. Be it Thanksgiving, Chanukah, Christmas, Kwanzaa, New Year’ s (did I forget any?) most of us hold one of these, some of these or all of these close to our heart. (For those of you who do not celebrate any of these I salute you, you probably have a shorter gift list than mine).

To me. the holidays start on Thanksgiving Day.  Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday and also the most problematic.  The issue is inviting people to share my turkey (I know, it could be easier if I didn’t invite no one, however sitting and eating turkey with only the family is kind of boring.) I’m not cheap and I am a sharing person but … 

My favorite part of the turkey are the legs and the wings.   As we know a turkey only has two of each.   So every year, when the guests arrive for Thanksgiving dinner, I make this announcement: “Thank you all for coming. Enjoy the food and wine and everything that I share with you today on this festive day, when we remember our ancestors who came to this country and ripped off the Native Americans. BUT DON’T EAT THE TURKEY LEGS OR THE WINGS. THEY’RE MINE.” Of course, there is always someone asking for a wing or a leg. DON’T PEOPLE LISTEN? It’s my mistake. I should give everyone a printed flyer when they arrive at my house with my rules about the turkey.

So this year, after many years of being kind of an ass about my turkey and people resenting my bad  attitude, I bought two turkeys: a 12 Pound Organic Turkey for the guests and a second 8 Pound Organic Turkey For me. Problem FINALLY solved!  And now I love Thanksgiving all over again.

Then we move to Chanukah - also known as “The Feast of Lights” and “8 days of presents”. (By the way, no, there’s no “proper” way of spelling Chanukah, I happen to use ‘ch”.) Having eight days of presents is great when the kids are younger. You give them a little gift everyday, something little and inexpensive,  and they’re happy.

But I hate when they get older they start expecting better gifts, so I came up with the 1 Gift Rule: I’ll get them something that they really want and that it’s not too expensive. 

Now Aaron, my 8-year-old, wants a Nintendo Switch.  I’m not cheap but they cost over $400 plus you have to buy the games. C’mon, he already has an iPhone and a computer! I told him that if he wants one, he can go out and get a job. He opted for his second-best and so I bought him Pokemon cards, and he was happy.

Now we move on to Christmas.

I grew up without having a Christmas tree. I used to go to friends’ homes and sit by their trees and  listen to Holiday music - and if it snowed it was a bonus. So  5 years ago I decided I would have a tree too. It wasn’t going to be a Christmas tree but a Holiday tree (that’s how the Jewish people rationalize having a tree). We decorate it with lights and baubles and tinsel, and I make sure to always put a Star of David on top.

Then I put presents under the tree about 10 days before December 25 and everyone tries  to guess what’s in the boxes - they’re all empty though, I just like to see nicely wrapped presents under the tree, it looks good. I sit by my fireplace, with the tree lit up, and listen to Holiday music - and if it ever snows on Christmas day here in Las Vegas it will shock the heck out of me but I’m sure I’ll love it. It’s great.

But I hate when Christmas is over and I have clean up the smelly tree and dispose of the crappy wrapping paper. That’s a two day job - I’m methodical, this is the way I work, so I’ll take no rushing from anyone. I say every time “this is the last year I do this” but I know we’ll do it again next year.

And then there’s New Year’s. The dancing, the champagne, the noise, the dogs barking, the neighborhood joker who sets off 200 fireworks at the same time at 2 am…DON’T GET ME STARTED!

Anyway, I hope your holidays are filled with everything you love and very little of what drive you nuts. Pass the wine bottle.

How to Stop Hating Being a Parent

Six tips for learning to deal with our negative parenting emotions

The expectations of what succesful parenting needs to be puts unnecessary pressure on an already difficult job. The six tips I share in this ebook will help you put your conflicted emotions and guilty feelings in perspective... and leave them behind for good!

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Let’s face it: parenting sometimes sucks—big time.

I’m not even talking about dried-out spaghetti snuck under a sofa cushion or the dog eating the Lego pieces because the kids didn’t put away their toys properly. Nor am I referring to lack of sleep because of endless glass-of-water runs or checking under the bed for monsters.

If you’re like me, you’ll probably entertain one or two fantasies about signing up to go on the one-way ticket to Mars or winning the lottery and disappearing to the most remote Pacific island. And if you’re like me, the fantasies last a few minutes before we bring ourselves back to reality, feeling guilty about our daydreams of escape.

Yeah, the problem is not the sticky everything nor the way the super positive Kindergarten teacher, a covert patronizer, dismisses your warnings about the Tasmanian devil you’re dropping into their hands. (Their problem now for the next few hours, they’ll find out soon enough, right?).

Yeah, yeah. I know. That super positive Kindergarten teacher is only doing her job.

So, nope. These frustrating things are only the hairs that’ll break the camel’s back but are seldom the source for the real inner-conflict parents often experience regarding their children. We parents get dragged into that well of regret and exasperation when we encounter unmet expectations about our parenting experience. Yup, you and I have a deep-down fear that we’re doing a shitty job with the whole mom/dad role and throw in the towel on the entire parenthood shebang, if only in our minds.

The crazy thing I’ve come to recognize is that these expectations are not necessarily the many society and law have imposed on parents, which we need, even if our great-grandparents are turning in their graves over the end of corporal punishment. Instead, these expectations are beliefs we’ve come to construct for ourselves based on what others tell us, on what we’ve experienced ourselves, from reading lame parenting guides and watching too many and conflicting advice programs on the Internet.

Authoritarian parents operate in the “it’s my way or the high way” principle.

For example, one source tells you that being an authoritarian will make your kid successful on all fronts, while another source advocates for gentle parenting. You read both books, absorb what makes sense to you, and somehow, you form a hybrid version of both styles. If you’re lucky and have a grip on kids and home life plus a 100% understanding of your own needs, you might come up with the perfect solution to parenting, and you know what? Heck, you might want to publish your own guide! (If this is you, you can stop reading now and send me an email, I want you on my podcast.)

If you’re like me, you’ve read both books (and maybe a dozen mommy blog articles). Unfortunately, you probably got confused by all the opinions and ended up leaning to what you recognized most from your own experience, with a dash of techniques you were able to grasp from books, guides, and videos. We don’t realize that each parenting guide, or article we read, or parenting video we watch is built around its own set of expectations. So you’re not only adding a method to your toolkit, but you’re also acquiring hopes and expectations for an outcome.

Mom. Dad. Some days you’re not going to be a happy parent. You’re just not.

Or perhaps you encounter moments as a parent that you resent your own children. You might even find yourself hating them, and then you feel horrible about these feelings because you love them so much. Well, despite what you might believe, this is very common and happens to most parents. It’s called ambivalence, and most psychotherapists address it in their practices. First explored and exposed by influential analyst and pediatrician Donald Winnicott, he openly invited his patients to express their true feeling about their children. This tactic often led them to confront their negative emotions about their kids and thus refrain from any aggressive impulses. His idea of the “good enough” parent is used today by psychoanalysts everywhere. (Interested in reading more about ambivalence? There is an excellent article by writer Edward Marriott, When a bough breaks.)

“Hostility can also be triggered when we are made to face things we’d rather not. And few roles in life do this with as much relentless consistency as parenting. ”

— Edward Marriott

I’ve come to see very clearly how my expectations about parenting have influenced, in a less-than-a positive way, my role as a parent. So now, at 72 years old and in my third go around as a dad, I want to share six ways to fool-proof yourself from creating this mental and emotional trap and ending up with a bagful of bad feelings.

My Six Tips on How to Stop Hating Being a Parent

1. Kids come with pre-wired instructions to be messy, sticky, and dirty - Eventually, they may, or may not, learn the importance of cleanliness. You’ve tried non-stop to teach them, but it may or may not take. Guess what? Either way, letting this reflect on your ability to parent is somewhat silly, so don’t take lip from anyone saying otherwise. Instead, invite those who find fault to take a seat on the sofa with the crusted-over spaghetti or let your kids bring them a sticky glass of water. Then laugh, laugh, laugh.

2. You need to be your Number 1 - if you can’t be good to yourself, there’s no way you’ll be able to be good to your significant other or your kids. As parents, we prioritize our children; that’s a given. Dropping them to a second place is not what I’m talking about here. Regardless of what’s going on in your busy daily life, you have to make quality time for yourself. It doesn’t mean you necessarily need to go to a spa or hit the happy hour karaoke, although this helps; it could also be having meaningful time with your kids, significant other, friends, etc. It needs to be something that makes you feel good about yourself, recharged. Something that truly makes you say, “Well, slap my thigh! That made my day!” And do this daily.

3. Everything you know about parenting is right and wrong at the same time - each parent/child relationship is unique, and so are the ways kids will get their fingers stuck in the darnest of places (btw, dishwashing soap and Vaseline tend to work most of the time). Trying to raise happy, successful kids that are kind and empathetic, amazing at math and grammar, are mindful and caring, clean their bedrooms without prompting, and wash their hands before touching anything they might make grimy is a great goal. However, pushing to get kids to be all this is a recipe for dissatisfaction and frustration. In short, you’re setting yourself up, and them, for failure.

4. Take each and every piece of advice with a grain of salt - maybe some come from modern parenting techniques, others are supposed to be tried and true wisdom. Regardless of origin, until you find a set of rules you can call your own, consider all advice suspect. What are the motives? What kind of end results are they trying to achieve? Is it really about good parenting or about passing judgment on what they perceive to be flaws in your parenting? I’m not saying to disregard them outright. I mean, the advice about not running with scissors or chainsaws is still a solid one. Get into the habit of researching advice and don’t take it at face value.

5. You can’t fix everything in your kid’s life - hard as we try to prevent it, your kid is going to get his knees bloodied at some point, she’s going to experience anger and pain when her best friend dumps her, screams at you that they hate you. These are “parenting sucks” moments for sure, and it’s easy to cave into our getaway-from-it-all fantasies or throw ourselves under the bus and decide we must be bad parents. Well, I got one for you: as parents, we can’t stop many things from happening to our kids, and it hurts. Yet, we can’t live, or have them live, permanently fearing the unknown only to protect ourselves from heartache. Living brings about wear and tear, and a fully lived life has the scars and badges to prove it.

6. Drop. Your. Expectations. - I cannot say this enough times. Expectations are always the culprit behind every bad hair day, even if it doesn’t seem apparent at first. If you think standing in the post office line with a screaming two-year-old is a bad situation, wait until you start turning the screw on yourself and automatically internalize the moment as a parenting failure for being unable to quiet the kid. Don’t do this to yourself; it’s bullshit. Crying and screaming at the top of their lungs is what 2-yr-olds do and taking them to public spaces is often unavoidable. While you might think (and you’re probably right) that a few people in that line hate you for not getting things under control, take solace in the fact that they very likely don’t have kids at the moment but will become parents themselves one day, if you follow my drift. And bless the sweet older people who look in your direction with knowing eyes and smiles. Their kind words and very presence should be what we all strive to be: wise and patient (and not a little gleeful it’s happening to somebody else and not them).

Mom. Dad. I cannot stress my tip #2 enough. Be good to yourself.

Hating being a parent is ok, and no, this is not what poor parenting means. Yet, if you’re the type who keeps a suitcase made and is ready to bail whenever possible to avoid parenting issues, you would benefit from speaking with someone who can help you figure things out, preferably a professional - my 2 cents.

Otherwise, you’re probably like me, a parent who knows and understands that children are a lifelong commitment; like diamonds, they are forever. I already know from having grown children and an 8 yr old that good parenting is not about perfect results. Kids are not trophies to show off to other parents.

Parenting means getting dirty, being exhausted, and receiving little if any gratitude or recognition for your daily efforts. And you know what? It’s in the job description. So letting go of what perfect parents and kids need to be like is the greatest gift you can give yourself and your kids right now.

Should You Vaccinate Your Kid Against Covid?

(A very personal view)

To mask or not to mask. To vaccinate or not to vaccinate.

While this topic seems to be very controversial, it should not be. After all, it is simply a matter of safety. I cannot understand why so many people are against it. However, as someone once told me, “Would you let your child ride in a car without a seat belt?” I would never let my child ride in a car without a seat belt, because I always think of safety first. He is required to receive all standard vaccinations, which are required before he starts school.

Now Aaron is only 8, so he is too young for the covid  vaccine (which makes me worry even more, because he could be exposed to the virus at school). But I know other parents with children over 12 have had the vaccination. In Episode 2, our guest was Dan Miller, who is an older parent like myself. In our interview, I asked: “You have children over the age of 12, haven’t you had your children vaccinated?” He replied that he would, and when his youngest child was old enough to be vaccinated, he would have her vaccinated as well.

Check out my interview with Dan Miller below:

I understand some parents’ apprehension about the vaccine; if my son were old enough, I would worry about it, too. But I would still have him vaccinated. Let me explain.

So, at this point, I did a little digging and discovered that there’s still a large portion of the population that do not know how vaccines work. They have a vague idea about Dr. Louis Pasteur, who discovered and perfected the smallpox vaccine procedure, but the modern technology used for the Covid-19 vaccines may not have been explained in a way that is easy to grasp. I get it. Something that re-programs your cells? Sounds like the plot of a sci-fi horror franchise.

I grew up in the 1950s, during the height of the polio epidemic. It was the worst outbreak in the nation’s history at that time. Thousands of children and adults were left with life-long crippling paralysis. We were all frightened of the disease, so when our local pool was finally closed due to a case of polio, we were all relieved; many people couldn’t leave the house or even go to the movies due to the fear. Sound familiar?

The first polio vaccine was available in the United States in 1955. Thanks to widespread use of the polio vaccine, the United States has been polio-free since 1979. But the threat of poliovirus is still a concern for many countries. Without the vaccine and constant monitoring this virus could come back again, as it has in some countries already.

The Iron Lung was invented in 1927 to help breathe those who were unable to do so by themselves. It became ubiquitous during the 1950’s polio epidemic. People usually stayed in the Lung between two and three weeks, or until they could breathe again on their own.

I remember every parent lining up their children to receive the vaccine. To me, the vaccine looked just like a sugar cube. There was no hesitation among the parents. However, today, there is a significant amount of hesitation among parents. In fact, according to some studies, the rate of vaccination has dropped significantly in the United States in the last decade. Why are parents so different today? What has shifted their understanding of science and belief in its role to keep us safe?

Don’t get me wrong: I’m not blind to the controversies and the reality of the so-called  revolving door management between government health agencies and pharmaceutical companies. Yet I find myself really perplexed that any parent would run the risk of having their kid infected with delta, gamma, epsilon, whatever at full strength when a vaccine can help with the symptoms and give them a better chance to pull-through.

One of the top possible reasons so many do not trust the covid vaccines may be due to all the for-profit drug pushes we’ve had from Big Pharma over the years. (Opioid epidemic comes to mind… I’m looking at you, J&J).

Yes, of course I’m scared of any vaccine’s side-effects. I’m more scared of covid potential life-long effects though, and how my child’s future could be impacted permanently because I hesitated.

Every parent has the right to make their own choice and express their own opinion regarding this vaccine and other covid-related topics. I guess my point is:  science has given us the chance to overcome diseases that had been considered incurable and, ultimately, the covid vaccine is no different in this respect than the polio vaccine. If we have the opportunity to avoid succumbing to this virus, why not take it? Do you agree/ disagree? Share your thoughts below.

Aaron's Summer

After the Year of the Lost Summer and over 200 days spent cooped-up at home in front of a computer there was no question in my mind that Aaron was ready to go to town and live la vida loca, 8-yr-old style, this summer. To me summer only means three things: vacation, vacation, vacation! Once the school year ended I started my bucket list of all Dad-and-Son summer things to do: baseball, swimming, ice cream (well, that one is mostly Dad, Aaron is not an ice cream eater) and FUN! Because, after all, in my book summer=fun.  

But Aaron looked at it differently.

He wanted to go back to school full time for the summer. Yup, you read that correctly.

“What did you say?,” I asked, dumbfounded.

“School, Dad. I want to go to school.”

“But summer school? You only go there if you have to.” I didn’t tell him I knew this first hand, I can think of several summers spent in a drab classroom with the rest of the class clowns and misfits.

Aaron fixed on me with his you’re-wasting-my-time look. 

”Well, you asked me what I wanted to do for summer, and I’m telling you, I want to go to summer school.”

I’ve never been one to take such a misguided understanding of summer lying down, so I immediately jumped in with an offer. Out of the blue I pulled a schedule that I felt would satisfy his need for drab classrooms and my need for him to have F.U.N. C’mon, you need to be able and go back in time and be able to say “Man, that was one crazy summer!”, right?

He heard me out and, kinda reluctantly, agreed. I’m sure he could see the benefits in this package. Some extra weekly Robux helped sweeten the deal.

We shook hands on it and the rest, as they say, is unfolding history.

Aaron’s summer looks like this:

• ½ day summer school, 5 days a week

• 2 days a week of tennis lessons

• 1 day a week of baseball instruction

• 2-3 days a week of swimming lessons

• 2 days a week of coding lessons- he wants to program his own games

• 1 day a week online Hungarian lessons with Hungarian teacher living in Hungary  (so Aaron and his mother, who is Hungarian, can talk behind my back. If they’re smiling and looking in my direction while speaking Hungarian, I prefer to think they are saying nice things about me).

Two weeks into his Summer of Study and Fun and I’m thinking I may have tried so hard to win this hand I did not fully consider the details...

Since this was my Grand Scheme my job is to drive Aaron and his friends to school, pick them up (I’m Carpool Dad) and take them to lunch 3-4 times a week. Then I spend the rest of each day driving him to all the other activities I so insisted he signed up for.

I am exhausted.  The Summer of Study and Fun and Heat Dome and Delta Variant (yes, let’s not forget all the other realities of living in 2021) has turned into a non-stop involuntary examination of the state of our freeways and the counting in seconds the actual time the traffic lights take to turn to green - we locals knowingly call them “Forever Lights”.

And yesterday Aaron casually told me want to start playing golf again. 

“What did you say?,” I asked, dumbfounded.

 “Golf, Dad. I want to go to play golf again.”

“But you said it’s a sport for old people!”  I sweated at the thought of playing golf in this heat and being his caddie because, bottom line is, I’m the one who ends up carrying all the gear.

Suddenly I started daydreaming of next summer and a sleepaway camp by a lake, where kids stayed at cabins and learned archery, fishing and tree climbing and held sing-alongs around a bonfire as they ate s’mores.

Just as sudden the reality of him sleeping in a cabin away from home brought me back to reality.

“Ok, golf it is. I’ll call them to set up a tee-time.”

I realized that, as exhausted as I was, some things were just not gonna happen under my watch. If he ever mentions going to a sleepaway camp I’ll encourage a backyard sleepaway. We’ll do s’mores on the BBQ.

Graduation Day

I can remember my excitement on the day each of my older children graduated high school and then college. It’s gotta be one of the most proud days of being a parent. It’s been 30-years-plus since they graduated from elementary school.

And here I am, fast-forward to Present Day, enjoying the moment again.  It’s May, and Aaron just graduated from second grade, and he is so proud that he is now going to be a third grader in the fall! And… I am proud too, 2020 was a rough year for him as it was for his schoolmates and so many other children around the world, and he’s managed to pull through.

It was particularly jarring the sudden separation from his classmates, then finding himself in front of a computer every day for hours on end. As so many like him, Aaron floundered with online education, it really didn’t work for him.

He was alone at home, without classmates, without an in-person teacher, while his school was still in session - it was my decision to take him out and keep him home. During the length of most of the year the only time he was able to talk to friends was on his computer and he really missed playing sports with his pals.

And, as if this wasn’t life-changing enough, I came down with Covid-19 right before the Hanukkah/Christmas holidays. It almost cost me my life. Aaron had to watch me being rushed to hospital by paramedics, then deal with me in the hospital. Since I was not allowed any hospital visitors I would facetime him at night... he would just cry on our calls.

“Daddy, when you are coming home?” 

“Soon, sweetheart. Soon.” But the truth was I didn’t know if I would ever come home.

To his mounting fright, his Mom also came down with the virus and soon after so did he. His was mild, but his Mom was burning up with a relentless fever and cough and yet she just kept going, mindful of my wellbeing and Aaron’s. December 2020 and January 2021 became a horror show for Aaron.

I was finally released from hospital in February, and he had to watch me on an oxygen machine for the next three months. He helped me when I was finally able to use a walker and then when I started to use a walking cane. Aaron, his mother and my family were my life support and they are the reason I pushed myself out of that bed.

I was keenly aware of how affected he was by my condition. Any sound I made, any noise I made, Aaron would run into the run to check on me.

“Daddy, are you ok?”

I’ve been told that he would often sneak into the bedroom while I was sleeping to make sure I was breathing...

So, Aaron had it tough going.  

Once I was better in April, I put him back in school and, having been issued a portable oxygen tank I was able to drive him to and pick him up from school. In so many ways that first day I drove him back felt like the first day of any school year. He was excitedly talking about school, about his backpack, about his new pencils, about seeing his friends and talking with his teachers, whom he loves; and in so many ways it was indeed a new beginning.  

He had suddenly stopped talking and I could see through the rearview mirror that he had become pensive while looking at me. “Uh-oh,” I thought. “He’s worried about something happening to me.”

“Son, you’re going to have a great time at school, and I’m going to be just fine, ok?” I was hoping that I could diffuse any stress before it might become a call from school every couple of hours to check on me - or worse, he might just decide to stay on online schooling for the rest of the year, fearful that something might happen to me.

 “I know, Dad. I just don’t see the point of wearing a uniform. Do I really need to wear this? I didn’t wear it at home? Why do I need to wear it? It’s so uncomfortable…”

And he ranted-on for a bit. I nodded in understanding, trying desperately not to laugh out loud. I was relieved.

That’s when I knew the kid was going to be fine.

May is here, Graduation Day is here, and he’s wearing his uniform, and I am grateful for the moment of clarity and hope it unwittingly gifted me with.

Choosing a Sport

I think most fathers want to see their sons play a sport. When I was a kid, it was baseball. It’s a good thing I loved the game (I still do, I even collect cards!). Practicing baseball was never a chore.

I felt that Aaron would benefit from baseball too. But, unlike the days of my childhood when it was easy to find enough kids to play with at the ballpark on any given day, today it’s impossible to even find six! So I’ve settled on teaching him fundamentals, like catching and throwing.

And, as an added bonus,  it’s great exercise…for the parents, because you have to keep chasing the ball. Kids can’t throw straight.

It’s plain to see that soccer has replaced baseball as the neighborhood game. When I was a kid, we didn’t have soccer. Instead, growing up in the Midwest we played a lot of hockey too. That was the sport my dad wanted me to practice, which I did, and which I never liked.

Aaron playing soccer. He LOVES this sport.

Check out my podcast episode about choosing sports for kids:

Soccer is a sport kids are learning to play from 3 years of age, which is amazing. Aaron loves soccer and, like many kids his age, he’s been playing in a league for about 4 years.  I love the look on his face when he scores a goal, and when after he makes a great play and looks at me with a proud look on his face I just want to run on the field and give him a hug and kiss. (I don’t, of course, cool factor and all that)

In my search to help him find his niche sport we tried golf and he actually enjoys it. The problem is he thinks I’m his caddy and has me working for him. There’s a point in which my shoulder just wants to quit.

We also do tennis, which he likes too. He has been playing twice a week but in the summer, with the temperatures in the 100’s, it gets harder to play…Not for him but for me. After we play, I need a good nap.

When it comes to football he likes throwing the ball around - and that’s about it.

I’m sure I’ll continue to encourage him to do more sports (he just started swimming lessons) and we’ll keep discovering what works and what doesn’t. I’ve come to realize that ultimately it’s not the sport I’d like him to practice but the one(s) that he chooses to do. As gung-ho as I once was on him learning only baseball I see now that it’d be an error to impose on him such expectations. Good attitude towards the sports you practice leads to great sportsmanship and I think that beats stealing all bases. Well, almost.

So for now we’ll be concentrating on baseball, soccer and tennis. And Roblox as his indoor game - I hear it’s really good for thumb dexterity.

The iPhone

As every parenting guide and book will tell you, parenting is not easy.

First, you can’t categorize kids because every child is different. There’s no such thing as “Kids - Operation Manual”, and no matter how much your kid is a Taurus or a Leo he or she is going to break that mold too, 

Parenting still has to change from child to child and as they age because you can't treat your 6-year-old child the same way now that he is 8. And if you try, they’ll make a point of reminding you of the fact.

Parents aren’t born, they are made. I’ve made it a habit to observe other parents and how they interact with their own children. It helps me and it’s a great learning (and free, for the most part) experience. Some of these learning moments are so powerful they are galvanizing.

I remember I was  with Aaron at a restaurant, he was about 3-years-old at the time and I was still the center of his Universe (Ah! A great age! I miss those days.)

We were playing games before we got our food. We counted sugar packs then I’d try some simple math by taking two packs and adding another pack and asking him how many packs we had in total… You get the gist of it, I was trying to make everything we did fun while helping him learn new stuff.

I noticed there was another father and a son sitting next to us. His child was about the same age as Aaron.

To be honest I had been so focused on playing with Aaron I’d barely glanced in their direction. But when their food was served they caught my full attention.

I saw how the father got up and walked closer to his son and proceeded to help the boy with cutting his food into small-sized bites.That’s very sensible, I thought to myself, since I had done the same for Aaron when they served our food. He cut slowly and deliberately, making sure all the bites were roughly the same size and then, with precision, positioned the plate in front of his child, the fork ready to be grabbed from the plate.

Admirable!, I thought. How meticulous! My waffle cutting is definitely more in line with Picasso.  I was watching with mounting curiosity as the man sat himself down across from son. He then picked up his iPhone and… that’s all he did from that point on. He just played with his phone and paid no attention to the little boy. There was no interaction between Father and Son.

WTF?!

I was shocked and angered and not able to conceal it very well. I made weird noises, dropped a fork on the floor, all in all trying to get this man’s attention so I could give him an admonishment or, at the very least, a disapproving look. But still the man remained glued to his phone’s screen - although I suspect he was just avoiding me.

I took a last glance at that sad image of the kid eating his meal quietly while his Dad read emails or whatever, and I promised myself I would never go out with Aaron and use my phone. I was adamant that, if Aaron and I go out, it’s so that I can spend the time with him, be there for him, be present. And I’ve kept this promise since.

Of course, Aaron doesn’t believe it applies to him since he didn’t actually promise anything. So, ironically, when we go out now I’m the one who eats his meal quietly while Aaron is on his iPhone playing games and chatting with friends. 

The iPhone/Android/Whatever: damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

I discuss technology and its impact on child/parent relationship in this podcast episode:

Father’s Day

Father’s Day. My favorite day of the year. Better than Hanukkah and Christmas combined.

The one day of the year that is my day,  when I will be woken in the morning with kisses and hugs and lots of “I love you”, with several greeting cards that say “World’s Best Dad” and that I know he didn’t pick out but I love just the same.

It’s the day they get to celebrate me not as James but as Dad, my favorite title. And it’s the day I get to remember my own Dad and all the great things he did for me. 

My Dad, Stanley, passed away a few years ago. He would have loved Aaron, like he loved all his grandchildren. He had no favorites, he just loved them all. He really was a doting grandfather. As a father though, he had been overpowering and loud when imparting parental guidelines. Let’s call it Old School Parenting.

In some ways I’m like my Dad, and behave like him without realizing it. While it’s true I’ve incorporated some of his good parenting I can see how, when faced with a trigger situation, I somehow channel his Old School Parenting. You know what? Let’s call a spade a spade. Most the Old School Parenting is Bad Parenting. I say most, because several Old School Parenting rules are actually really good parenting!

The one thing that has never, and will never, happen with any of my children is physical discipline of any kind. I don’t believe in spanking or employing what I would call torturing devices - because using a belt “builds character” how?

I’m sure I’ll hear a counter argument to this. Ultimately each parent ends up doing what they think it’s best, and for better or for worse, it’s most likely based on their own experience as children. I propose that we examine why it is that we choose to do one thing over another instead of just following what our own parents/authority figures in our early life have shown us. I’m sure there are some things all of us parents can move past and improve on.

What I’ve learned is that no parent can be perfect.  You give too much, you’re a bad parent. You give too little, you’re a bad parent - and if you don’t give anything at all... then why be a parent at all?

On Father’s Day, among all the cards and kisses, I’m taking time to quietly thank my Dad for his example, good and bad, because it has shown me how to become a better Dad.

Should Kids Get an Allowance?

I was getting caught up with my reading ( I often read two-three books at a time) when Aaron came into the living room with a serious look on his face. His whole demeanor made me a little apprehensive. What had happened? Was he ok? Maybe a bully at school? Tummy ache? I tried to keep my composure.

“Is everything OK?,” I asked him.

His answer was quick and to the point.

“We have to talk, Dad”

Oh crap!, I thought to myself. He’s seven! Isn’t he a little too young to be having “the Talk”? I tried to keep a cool and collected face while my mind raced through how I could best deflect his questions about The Facts of Life - you know, the birds and the bees? I knew one day we would have to have “the Talk” - but why now? Hmmm… Maybe he wasn’t buying the stork story anymore? Maybe I should have not told him I found him in a cabbage patch? I thought he knew I was joking. I hope he knows I was joking...

I was running ahead of myself. I mustered a calm smile and voice to match. Putting down my book I asked him: “What is this about?” - and held my breath.

“My allowance,” he replied, changing his seriousness into a smile.

Phew! Bullet dodged!,  was my first thought, followed immediately by He wants what?

“Aaron, you don’t get an allowance.“

“I know, Dad. That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

The other Facts of Life Talk - money. This was going to be interesting. 

“Aaron, do you know what an allowance is?”

“Yes, it's money you give me each week.” 

”Well, that’s not how it works. It’s not free money. To get money each week, which would be your allowance, you have to do chores.”

Aaron narrowed his eyes and pouted slightly.

“You mean, work?”

“Right, jobs around the house like walking the dog, cleaning your room, folding laundry, pulling weeds from the garden.  Even listening to your Daddy when he asks you to do something, I would consider that a chore too.”

I could see Aaron was listening to my every word, staring hard at me. He took a moment to think about what I had said.

“It’s not worth it. Keep the allowance, Dad,” he replied. Then added with a shrug: “I get everything now and I don’t have to do anything.”

And with that, he got up to leave.

What? Did he just turn down his first job offer? I thought it was a great deal. Was I spoiling him and that’s why he didn’t see the point in putting any effort into getting his own income? What was I teaching him? Am I just a money tree to him? 

I was puzzled. I also felt jilted, used and not a little worried about my parental skills. My kid did not appreciate having to work for money… Houston, we have a problem.

 Then, just before he left the room, he stopped and turned around to look at me.

“I love you, Dad,” and off he went.

It dawned on me that what he meant was that he had everything he needed, that he didn’t lack for anything and, therefore, there was no need to have more. 

So maybe it’s a good thing he’ll think twice about accepting offers and won’t necessarily want to have things for the sake of just having them, like sometimes I do.

Maybe Aaron already knows that there are things that money can’t buy? After all, he’s been listening to Can’t Buy Me Love by The Beatles since he was a baby. 

I decided to pat myself on the back. Good job, Dad!

I also let go of the armchair, my knuckles still white and my nails neatly imprinted on the fabric. 

WATCH THIS EPISODE!

Watch Aaron and me discuss getting an allowance on my podcast episode. Guest starring Dan Miller.

Aaron’s First Day of School

I walked into his room at  7am - he was sound asleep. 

Of course I come into his room every day to wake him up, get him breakfast and start our day. But today was different. I watched him sleep for about 5 minutes , sad and excited for him.

My little boy was growing up.

I got into bed next to him and gave him a hug and a kiss, and then another kiss, telling him he had to get up.

“We got to get you ready.”

“Is it time for school, Daddy? Yay!” He was so excited! I told him I would start making him his breakfast and made a mental note to remind him of this moment on those mornings he will hate getting up for school .

I had laid out his uniform for school at the bottom on the bed - everything was neatly pressed for his  first day. I stopped for a sec. Was it too neat? Were the folds too crisp? Would people figure out I’m an ironing and pressing freak? I shook the thought away.

I stood at the door, being pulled by the kitchen and, at the same time, unable to leave.

“Do you need help getting dressed?”

“No, Daddy. I can do it by myself, I’m a big boy now. I’m going to school!”, Aaron replied, beaming.

I nodded and smiled and left, knowing that putting on the tie would not be easy for such small hands. I had just started the eggs when he yelled for help.

“Right on cue”, I thought to myself, quietly grateful that he still needed my help. Soon enough the only yells I’ll probably get from him will be “Where’s my phone?” or “Privacy, please!”

I secured the tie, making sure it looked perfect, and let him work on his shoelaces. He was always confused by the shoelaces. He kinda got them tied up. They weren’t very neat but they would not come undone either. Good boy!

We had his favorite breakfast, waffles and eggs, a glass of milk, some orange juice. I kept checking the time constantly, didn’t want us to be late and yet, all the same, I wanted time to stand still. I was treasuring every second of this morning.

“Time to go, young man! Get your knapsack and your lunchbox!”

“Yes, Daddy.” Yes, Daddy, he said. One day too soon it’ll probably be “Huh?” or “Duh”.

Five-years-old and ready to dive into school cafeteria food.

We went through what would happen on his first day of school, what to expect. I watched through rearview mirror - he looked like a miniature business man in his uniform and tie, so small in his car seat. “Do we really need to do this today?” I thought to myself. Kids also start school a little later, like when they’re 6, 7 or even 20 years old… My inner reverie was interrupted by the Student School Delivery system this school has in place. I had been warned about the Car Line Game but suddenly encountering it had me regretting volunteering to bring Aaron to school every morning. I am, as those who know me will tell you, not a patient driver.

Hand in hand, we walked to his classroom, where his home teacher greeted us with genuine enthusiasm.

“Hello Aaron! Hello Mr. Dudelson! Welcome to First Grade. Aaron, go ahead and take a seat.”

I gave him a big kiss.

“I’ll see you later, ok?”

“Ok. I love you, Daddy”.

“I love you too. Have a great day at school.”

And I got up, turned around and walked away without looking back once. I can’t say if my eyes were watery from allergies or if I suddenly experienced a few sniffles because of it. Like my other two kids, Aaron will too grow older, become self-reliant and set out to burn his own path in life, and I wouldn’t wish anything but all of that for him. Today was the first day of Aaron’s journey into independence, and the last day of Daddy being the main focus of his attention.

I sat in my car for about 10 minutes and realized how much I already I missed him.

Reimagining Fatherhood

I became a father again at 65 years old and I had no clue about what to do next..

I have two grown children, whom I love more than life itself, and looking back I recognize I missed out a lot of their growing-up years. As a producer and distributor I was always on the road so I only got to see them on my returns - and as they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder so whenever I arrived I would be hugged and kissed and hugged and kissed and I would lap it all up and my role as a “dad” would feel fuflfilled.

Truthfully, I never changed a diaper, or had to feed them, bathe them, nurture them, put up with their ups and downs on a daily basis. As far as I was concerned my kids loved me and that was all I cared about. My understanding of how stay-at-home moms coped with the constant mess and chaos was pretty limited to what I’d seen in my own upbringing and, ironically enough, in the movies. I can say I was basically removed from the shitshow that rearing up kids is.

Becoming a father again had me scrambling to understand what that meant. I knew I loved this child and I wanted to be there for him, so that part was clear to me (check). I also knew I would have to make changes to my lifestyle and in my personal life, and I was willing to do that (check).

As I held this tiny, warm beautiful baby boy in my arms my heart was flooded with such love! I dreamt of playing baseball with him, wondered about when to introduce him to baseball cards and The Beatles, daydreamed of building a model car together. I raised him up a little higher, to look into his face when, without warning, he puked on me. The nurse had stepped in to check in on us and witnessed the moment.

“Yeah, babies do that.”, she said trying not to laugh at my shock-horror face.

“What else do they do?” This was redundant, I had seen what they could do in Three Men and a Baby. But somehow the question splurted from me without me thinking about it.

“Oh yes. Feeding, burping, diapers, cleaning, they’re a handful”. I swear she was now driving the screw home. “And sometimes they don’t sleep at night, yes, they’re up all night and sleep all day, or don’t sleep much. Aren’t they amazing?”, she said with a little bit too much glee.

I made a choice right then and there, and I wasn’t aware, at least not consciously, that I had.

“This is my son’s vomit, and it’s the best vomit I’ve ever seen.”