Author Archives: Family Man

Dating Dad: Remote

Posted on April 5, 2011 by Family Man

By Eric S. Elkins

A year or so ago, I received a Facebook friend request from a really beautiful woman. Honestly, I might have accepted the request not knowing anything else about her, but she wrote that she’d been one of Simone’s preschool teachers years ago, and upon a closer look, I recognized her. I remembered the young, sultry teacher around whom I’d studiously maintained a low-key sort of coolness, not wanting to screw anything up for Simone by being the creepy dad who ogles the teacher (it was good practice, and is actually serving me well this school year, if you know what I mean).

After I accepted the friend request, we started communicating a little bit, and I learned that she was now a single mom of two very young children, living in a remote town in Colorado. She wanted to hear all about her Simoney, and I was happy to share. The more we talked, the more we found we had in common. When she mentioned that she’d be in Denver for a conference in a few weeks, I expressed an interest in crossing paths.

The exigencies of our parenting schedules (she and her kids were staying with her mother) and her conference commitments gave us only a short window of time to see each other — not more than a few hours one evening. But from the moment we made eye contact, the connection was electric. Our first hug felt both familiar and thrilling, and I couldn’t believe she was even prettier than I’d remembered. One of those rare, ethereal beauties, she had soulful brown eyes, a delicate face, and an achingly sweet smile that seemed to carry a secret within it. The evening was a stunner — not knowing the nature of our rendezvous, I was elated when, after lots of conversation, the kissing began. Everything fit, and it was all I could do not to feel smitten.

In fact, a couple days later, when she was able to come out for just a little while and meet me at my home for an afternoon, I said, “Oh no, I can already feel it starting.” She laughed and kissed me hard on the mouth.

The situation was both beautiful and depressing — she and her two kids lived in a faraway town that wasn’t easy to get to. With her ex and his family there, moving herself and the kids to Denver would be out of the question; just like me, she believed in the importance of her children having both parents in their lives. When we said our goodbyes, we promised each other we’d find a way to spend more time together soon.

But airfares and commitments and parenting and everything else got in the way, and we didn’t see each other for a couple of months. Again, we felt that thrill of connection, but she was much more pragmatic this time around, keeping a bit of distance at first, but finally unable to resist the pull of our ridiculous chemistry. We spent a couple of beautiful evenings together, with her returning to her mother’s house late each night.

I remember taking her to my favorite bar for pre-dinner cocktails, and somehow settling right into the girlfriend-boyfriend dynamic. She told me later that she felt the same thing — it was like we were a couple, and I wasn’t self-conscious in the least about holding her hand as I introduced her to the most delicious martinis on the planet.

I’ll admit that I was close to tears when she left town that time, feeling hopeless, and wondering at God’s sense of humor. I finally met a woman who was right for me in every way, with whom I shared chemistry and connection, whom I could love so easily and for so long, and she lived 800 miles away.

And, yes. I know what you’re thinking. That perhaps the reason I could love her so freely was because there was no danger of a real relationship with her. I get that. I agonized over it. I talked to my shrink about it — about my feelings and about our impossible situation.

After that trip to Denver, she went on radio silence. I respected her lack of communication. It seemed like spending time together was just a way to keep our hearts aching. It was pointless. She eventually emailed me those exact thoughts, explaining that the way she felt about me would make it impossible for her to find love closer to home. I understood. I had the same concerns for myself.

But that didn’t make my heart ache any less.

Mid-summer came along, and she let me know that she and the kids would be in town for a few days. If I was up for meeting her for lunch, she’d love to see me for a little while. The message was clear — we can only be friends, and the way to ensure that we don’t get caught up in each other again is to only meet in safe places… during the day.

Man plans, God laughs.

We settled on a gorgeous country Japanese restaurant downtown, and she was waiting for me outside the door with that mysterious smile of hers. Our hug lasted a long time; I don’t think either one of us wanted to let go. Finally, we followed the hostess to a little wooden table in the beautiful garden area behind the restaurant, where we ordered noodles and soups and tender side dishes of Japanese delicacies. I realized before she did that we were being incredibly solicitous of one another: I’d wave a low-flying insect away from her sashimi, she’d gently wipe the little splash of soy sauce off my cheek. We couldn’t help it; we’re both wired to care for others, and putting us together was like the perfect storm of mutually nurturing behavior.

I’d craved that responsiveness for so long. It was the first time I’d met someone who was so naturally caring since the days of the Peach.

We talked about nothing of consequence, avoiding any danger of drifting into the terrain of heartbreak. We kept it light. But in our shady corner of the garden, with its tall, fragrant blossoms, the quiet buzz of other diners, and the indolent warmth of a summer afternoon, it was easy to drift into the complacent contentment of the moment. We hugged goodbye. I kissed her lightly at the apex of one of her perfect cheekbones. She put her hand to my cheek, and kissed me on the lips. And then she got in her car and drove away.

But she couldn’t stay away that week, and managed to sneak over for a little while Saturday morning. She found me reading on an air mattress on my balcony, still in my pajamas. After curling up with me for a few minutes, she managed to lure me out for brunch down the block, followed by a visit to our local panadéria. As we stood together, hand-in-hand, looking at the magical array of Mexican delectables, I had a vision of us doing the exact same thing, but in some faraway country.

As we walked back to my place, I said, “You know, it would be amazing to travel together someday.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” she said.

Which became an ongoing text conversation for the next month — where would we travel together? What would it be like? I told her that we should try something small, first — spend a weekend together away from our homes, like in Taos or San Diego. Schedules and budgets decided for us, and I bought her a plane ticket to Denver, so we could spend Labor Day Weekend together in the mountains.

Full disclosure — Summit Mountain Rentals is a WideFoc.us (http://widefoc.us) client, and one of the perks is free lodging for me when inventory permits. And it is quite the benefit — the company manages a slew of well-appointed condos in the lively mountain town of Breckenridge. So it was a matter of a phone call to get us a romantic spot right in the center of the city.

Our anticipation was like a fever.

I picked her up at the airport, and we hightailed it for the hills. This was our chance to see what it would be really like. We’d never spent more than a few hours at a time together, but now we’d have two days and two nights to really see what was possible. Sure, the longterm situation hadn’t changed, but that didn’t matter.

The weekend was definitely romantic, but only to a point, and it turned out to be ultimately disappointing for both of us. We found little incompatibilities, differences in communication, and something undefinable that made us both realize that we weren’t quite right for each other. As much as we loved each other, and enjoyed each other’s company, our weekend together never caught fire. Maybe we were both distracted, or overly careful, or just not into it. Maybe the timing was off. Whatever it was, by the time I dropped her at the airport, the hug goodbye was real, but the kiss was perfunctory.

I drove home that afternoon feeling a sense of desolation. She hadn’t even thanked me for the weekend, and that just sealed what I’d felt. Something was missing between us.

As time passed, I could only feel gratitude for that weekend away — we learned something valuable; it helped us move on in our own worlds without the heartbreak of a breakup. And it helped me realize that I was still capable of feeling smitten and could still surrender to love and possibility.

We’re still friendly, catching up here and there. I’m excited that I’ll get to see her when she comes to town in a month or so. She might not be the right woman for me, but I’ll always adore her.

Note: Out of respect for our experience and love for each other, I ran this column by her before posting it. So before you start beating me up for sharing a story about a real person, know that she read it and approved it before anyone else did.

Eric Elkins’ company WideFoc.us  specializes in using social media and ePR strategies to develop constellations of brand experiences, delivering focused messages to targeted segments. Read more of his Dating Dad chronicles at DatingDad.com , or tell him why he’s all wrong by emailing eric@datingdad.com.

Posted in Dating Dad, Divorced Dads, Featured Moms & Dads, Love and Courtship, Single Fathers | Leave a comment

What Dads Need to Know: Ten Tips to Raise an Emotionally Intelligent Child

Posted on April 5, 2011 by Family Man

By Dr. Jenn Berman

Intelligence experts estimate that only 20% of a person’s success is attributed to IQ but that as much as the entire remaining 80 percent may be a direct result of what has become known as EQ, or emotional intelligence. Psychologists Peter Salovey and John Mayer who are believed to have first coined the term “emotional intelligence,” define it as “a subset of social intelligence that involves the ability to monitor one’s own and others, feelings and emotions, to discriminate among them and to use this information to guide one’s thinking and actions.” People who have a high EQ exhibit the following:

– Impulse control

– Problem solving skills

– Empathy

– The ability to self-soothe

– The ability to delay gratification

– Self motivation

– Read other people’s emotional cues

– Self esteem

– Adaptability

– Resilience

– The ability to identify, express and understand feelings

The Dumbing Down of America?

While children have gotten intellectually smarter over the years, emotional intelligence has not risen accordingly. Scientists have noted the “Flynn Effect”, apparent since the advent of IQ testing a century ago, that in every industrialized nation each successive generation has scored higher than the previous generation. American IQs, for example, have consistently risen by an average of 8 points per generation. EQ, on the other hand, appears to have plummeted. Out of control violence, mental illness, risky sexual behavior, poor impulse control and school drop out rates are indicators of this problematic trend.

The Benefits of High EQ

According to Lawrence Shapiro, PhD, the author of How to Raise a Child With a High EQ, “having a high EQ may be more important to success in life than a high IQ as measured by a standardized test of verbal and nonverbal cognitive intelligence.” Children who have high EQs achieve better academically, have fewer temper tantrums, are better problem solvers, are less impulsive, have better attention spans, are more motivated, physically healthier and are more well-liked by their peers. The great news about EQ is that parents are the greatest influencers of high EQ scores. Children learn most of their emotional lessons from their parents and so there is a lot that parents can do if they are interested in increase their children’s EQ.

10 Things Parents Can Do to Increase EQ

1. Pay attention to your child’s cues, starting from birth.

Studies show that infants whose caretakers don’t pay attention to their cues have difficulty developing the ability to regulate their own emotions. If, for example, a mother with post-partum depression is too depressed to respond to her child’s cues, that baby might give up on crying as a means of communication and become passive and disengaged. Without his mother’s help learning how to calm himself down, he may not learn effective calming skills.

2. Teach self calming skills.

An anxious baby cannot recognize social cues from those around him and an anxious child cannot learn in school or make friends. Children look to their parents to gain these soothing skills. An easy way for parents to help is to hold, rock, talk to and sing to their children to help them calm down. As children get older, their skills become more complex. When my daughter Quincy was 18 months old she went through a period when she was waking up during the night and having trouble calming herself back to sleep. Every night before she went to sleep I would talk to her about “The Plan.” I told her that when she had trouble sleeping that she should put her pacifier in her mouth, hug her piggy (a stuffed animal) and snuggle with her blanket. I made these suggestions based on my own observations of what had worked for her previously. The plan became so ingrained that sometimes she would start to cry and remind herself out loud, “paci, piggy, blanket.”

3. Help children understand and identify their emotions.

For young children, intense emotions can be scary and overwhelming. Identifying and labeling their emotions can normalize those emotions and allow kids to identify the responses in others which ultimately helps them to develop empathy. Believe it or not, studies show that the act of labeling an emotion can have a soothing effect on the nervous system which allows kids to recover more quickly from upsetting events. According to John Gottman, PhD, author of Raising an Emotionally Intelligent Child, “This doesn’t mean telling kids how they ought to feel. It simply means helping them develop a vocabulary with which to express their emotions.”

4. Reduce television viewing.

The average child spends 38 hours each week watching television. According to Shapiro, “it is passive time spent in front of the TV that stunts the growth of EQ skills.” Studies show that children who watch a lot of TV are more fearful, anxious, and aggressive as well as desensitized to the pain and suffering of others than that of their peers who watch less television. Experts have found that children who are frequently exposed to inappropriate images and situations are 11 times more likely to be disruptive, fight with family members, hit other kids and destroy property. To make that statistic stand out even more, those same researchers claim that children who watched a lot of TV when they were eight years old are more likely to be arrested and prosecuted for criminal acts as adults than their peers who did not watch as much TV. To add insult to injury, all that tube time is time not spent interacting with peers, developing social skills, or problem-solving.

5. Give accurate praise.

Give accurate, honest praise that reflects back to your child an accurate mirror of her accomplishments. Excessive and lavish praise prevents children from seeing you as an accurate judge of her abilities and prevents her from getting to know her own strengths and weaknesses.

6. Teach problem solving.

The ability to solve problems is developed primarily from experience. Sometimes it is easier for parents to solve their child’s problem rather than teach them how to do it on their own. Children start to learn to problem solve in infancy. When my daughter Mendez was 9 months old we were sitting together while she played with a ball. The ball slipped out of her hands and rolled away from her, just outside of her reach. My first instinct was to solve the problem for her and hand her the ball, but I held back and allowed her to solve the problem for herself. She ultimately crawled over to the ball stretching in a way she never had before and proudly showed me the ball. As children become more verbal, they tend to need their parents to brainstorm problem solving ideas with them. The keys for parents is sending the message that every problem has a solution and having the patience to help children find their own age-appropriate resolutions.

7. Model empathy.

Empathy, which usually develops within the first six years of life, is the ability to understand the perspective of another person and on a deeper level to feel what another person is feeling. When parents can demonstrate empathy to their children it makes those children feel supported and allows them to see their parents as allies. According to Gottman, “If we can communicate this kind of intimate emotional understanding to our children, we give credence to their experience and help them learn to soothe themselves.” Empathetic children have a much better time making and keeping friends.

8. Set clear limits and enforce them consistently.

Giving your children clear and consistent rules shows them you care about their well-being and makes them feel safe. Imagine driving your car in a world with no rules or regulations to aid drivers; it would be chaotic and scary. A home without consistent rules for a child is the same as a lawless road. Children need boundaries to feel contained and cared about. Without rules to live by and the ability to follow the “laws” of the family, children grow up anxious and disrespectful. They believe it is permissible to behave however they choose because no one has taught them otherwise. This creates narcissistic children who lack empathy and emotional intelligence.

9. Allow your children to suffer the consequences of their actions.

Helping children understand at an early age that they are responsible for the choices they make as well as for the consequences of their actions promotes a sense of mastery and self confidence. One of the most difficult tasks for parents to master is allowing their kids to suffer the consequences of their choices and actions. But in order for children to grow up to become responsible, high EQ adults, this is a crucial developmental step for them to take.

10. Don’t protect your kids from all of life’s stresses, pains and difficulties.

Coping with stress and pain is the best way to learn coping skills. While children should not be exposed to material that is beyond their comprehension or development, they should be exposed to day to day stress and difficulties. When Carol and James started to notice that Buster, the elderly family dog, was nearing the end, Carol started to talk about death with four-year-old Stella. When Buster passed away they allowed Stella to see them cry and talked to her about their grief. This helped her to understand her own grieving process, develop empathy and normalize her own feelings.

Dr. Jenn Berman is a Marriage, Family and Child Therapist in private practice in Los Angeles. She has appeared as a psychological expert on hundreds of television shows including The Oprah Winfrey Show and is a regular on The Today Show, The Early Show, and CNN. She hosts a live daily call-in advice show called “The Love and Sex Show with Dr. Jenn” on Sirius/XM’s Cosmo Radio 5-7 pm PST (heard five hours a day seven days a week). She is the author of the LA Times best selling books SuperBaby: 12 Ways to Give Your Child a Head Start in the First 3 Years, The A to Z Guide to Raising Happy Confident Kids, and the children’s book Rockin’ Babies. Dr. Jenn is also on the Board of Advisors for Parents Magazine. In addition, Dr. Jenn has an eco-friendly clothing line for adults and children called Retail Therapy . All the tees have positive “feel good” messages and are made of organic and recycled materials. Dr. Jenn lives in Los Angeles with her husband and twin daughters. For more information on go to www.DoctorJenn.com or follow her on Twitter at www.Twitter.com/drjennberman and www.Facebook.com/DrJennBerman.

Posted in Child Development, Featured Moms & Dads, What Dads Need to Know | Leave a comment

Habitrails to You

Posted on March 21, 2011 by Family Man

By Gregory Keer

I don’t like rodents as a rule. Anything related to a rat gives me the willies and I have been known to run like a scared deer from anything that even looks like it could mistake me for a chunk of cheese.

This is why I did not want a hamster in my home. Just because it’s only a cousin to the type of creatures that inspired horror films like Willard didn’t mean I wanted its scurrying feet and twitching nose under my roof.

So I persistently said no to my middle son, Jacob, despite his annual requests for a hamster. I agreed to the countless goldfish that came home from carnivals. I said yes to the two hermit crabs. I had no problem with the Sea Monkeys. All these animals required low maintenance and posed no imminent threat of busting out of their bowls to gnaw on my ear in the middle of the night.

Yet, this year, my son came home one evening with a huge smile and a tiny gift.

“You – bought – a hamster,” I said haltingly to my son and his grandmother, who had no inkling of my aversion to said rodent.

“Daddy, he’s really cute! Look — ” he replied as he opened the box.

Reluctantly, I peered into the carton, half expecting to see the thing bare its famous two sets of incisors at me with murder in its beady eyes.

What I found was a puff of honey-colored fur that my son could not stop cooing over. And by the time Jacob and his grandparents had set up the Habitrail so that little Bijou could run enthusiastically on her red wheel, I felt mildly accepting of our new family member.

Over the next three months, I overcame my fears about hamsters because of Bijou. I giggled with the kids as she ran through the house in the plastic ball. I took to feeding her treats and even held her occasionally.

Most of all, I appreciated the way Jacob prized her as his very own. He talked to her regularly, read a book on hamsters, and helped nurture her in a way that was more personal than his experience with our still beloved dog. She was every bit the emotional and scientific learning experience a pet should be for a child.

Then, Bijou stopped running on her wheel. We didn’t really notice the difference for a couple of days, but when we did, we got concerned. So, we put her in the rolling ball and, because she rotated around the house happily, thought we had figured out she just preferred exercising in open spaces rather than in a cage.

Days later, Wendy spotted diarrhea in Bijou’s bedding and our own stomachs dropped. We studied up on what might be wrong and found the likely culprit in wet tail, an illness that had a lot of possible causes yet only one cure, antibiotics.

Despite knowing a veterinarian visit would cost exponentially more than the $7 critter (yes, we agonized about the medical expense), we called various clinics that night. No one would see her as she was considered an exotic animal and other options were closed or prohibitively far. We also commiserated with our friend Randy, who had seen her son’s own hamster take a bad turn due to glaucoma. The next day, Wendy visited a number of pet stores looking for medicine, but no one had the antidote.

By nightfall, Bijou quietly passed on to that great pet heaven where our family’s two cats, seven fish, two hermit crabs, and five billion Sea Monkeys resided.

We had a funeral in the side yard where we buried our Golden Hamster next to a rose bush.

“May you help these flowers grow the way you grew in our hearts,” Jacob eulogized.

 There’s a part of me that feels absurd going over the events of a furry rodent’s demise. Yet, despite her small size, Bijou had taught my nine year old a lot about caring for something other than himself, about loss, and that life goes on.

Some time after, Jacob felt a bit more normalized about the absence of his tiny friend, so he chose a new hamster. Bolstered by the knowledge of how to care for the creature and watch for serious health problems, he was willing to try again. While I had proven to myself that I could accept a rodent into my house without regular nightmares, Jacob had shown a capacity for resilience. Not bad for $7.

Posted in Child Development, Columns by Family Man, Pets | Leave a comment

Kids on Love

Posted on March 21, 2011 by Family Man

By Gregory Keer

I can spend a lot of my days calibrating my parenting machinery in the belief that I can become a more effective father, yet it all comes down to the fact that I feel love for my kids and they know that I love them (yes, I made them swear under oath that this is true). While I appreciate the complexity of life and the pursuit of good child care in particular, parenting can be summed up in lessons of love that we teach by modeling it with our partners and other fellow humans and explaining its nuances to our children.

Still, kids don’t just learn love from us. They get schooled about it by the world around them, from their friends to the media. As they grow, they view matters of the heart differently as they become more or less open, imaginative, and guarded (usually a combination of these things).

For this Valentine month, I interviewed a small sample of boys and girls, ranging from two years old to 12, and including my own emotionally philosophizing kids. While we talked, it became apparent that they were most interested in talking about romance, which is of course the foundation for all the love that follows in a family. As such, the three questions that made the cut here are ones that ask the kids to describe what love is and what a person does with it.

What is love?

Anika (3): Family.

Eve (5): Love means when you love somebody. That means you care about somebody and share.

Arielle (5): When you love somebody and you feel they love you, and your heart loves somebody.

Ari (6): Love is being together.

Ashton (7): Love is when you’re kind.

Hannah (8): Love is caring. Not being mad at everything. Love is kissing and hugging and doing nice things.

Jacob (9): Your heart gets taken by the person you are in love with. My friends and family. A force from the universe that creates people’s hearts to be taken by someone else.

Zander (9): Friendship, family, and a few other things.

Benjamin (12): I don’t want to answer this.

Jasmine (12): Love is when you’re with the one special person, you can’t see anyone else in the room. Love is the warm feeling you get in your heart.

Sarah Rose (12): It’s when you really care about someone.

What happens to you when you fall in love?

Eve (5): You feel like someone is falling in love with you. That feels like somebody is hugging.  And somebody is caring and caring. They put their hearts together to be nice to each other.

Arielle (5): They kiss and get married. They love each other. They can’t stop kissing.

Ashton (7): You marry.

Hannah (8): I don’t know, I’ve never fallen in love.

Zander (9): Some people get married. 

Jacob (9): Some people smooch.

Benjamin (12): This is a really odd question.

Jasmine (12): You want to spend every waking moment with the love of your life.

Sarah Rose (12): You get happier and you treat people nicer.

What do people in love do?

Anika (3): When you love someone, you want little kids and little girls.

Eve (5): They hug and they kiss. They marry when they’re boyfriend and girlfriend.

Arielle (5): They kiss.

Ari (6): They do everything together. Ask me more stuff about love!

Ashton (7): Kiss.

Hannah (8): They kiss and hug and give gifts. They go on dates.

Jacob (9): They play with each other. They are passionate with each other. They don’t show it because they’re too embarrassed to show it because they don’t think the other person will love them back.

Zander (9): They go around with each other. Friends that play together.

Benjamin (12): It’s a really stupid question.

Jasmine (12): Wanting to hold their partner close and love them more than anyone else does.

Sarah Rose (12): They hug and kiss, go see movies and eat popcorn together. And they bake cakes together.

If we go by my limited research, love is about baking cakes, hoping to be loved back, being friends, getting married, and being so happy you’re nicer to everyone else. Frankly, I can’t imagine that a survey of adults would come up with more insightful responses.

Here’s to love and all that we have to teach our children — and all they have to teach us — about it.

Posted in Columns by Family Man, Humor, Love and Courtship | Leave a comment

Being There

Posted on March 21, 2011 by Family Man

By Gregory Keer

Lately, I’ve been teetering on a breaking point. Just last night, in the tiny bit of personal time I had to make notes for this column, there were relentless interruptions by kids who can’t sit next to each other without committing assault and battery, emails from work alerting me to additional classes I have to substitute for, and a dog with incontinence who needs to go out for the third time in an hour.

So when my wife asks me to switch with her this morning in taking the younger children to school, it’s just another crack in a week full of schedule-busters, including the toilet that won’t flush, the oven that won’t work, the lunches I forgot to pack the night before, the homework my eldest left at home that needs to be delivered to school, and the extra soccer practices for playoff games (am I the only parent who secretly roots for my kids’ teams to suck so the season ends on time?).

As I force-feed boys and backpacks into the car, a voice inside me whispers, “Run. Run very far away.”

I quiet the demon and take care of business. Five minutes into the ride, Ari (6) and Jacob (9) are actually following the car rules: no sudden or loud noises that might cause Daddy to drop his cell phone, orange juice, or notepad; and no hitting each other that would force Daddy to raise his voice and attract the attention of traffic cops who might frown upon the aforementioned phone, juice, and notepad.

Things continue to go well as we hit the final mile to school, a curvy jaunt through a tree-lined neighborhood, over numerous but gentle speed humps, and up a serpentine canyon road – the perfect stretch to realign Jacob’s inner ears.

“I’m not feeling well,” he says.

“Look out the front window so you can see the road,” I recommend, maintaining composure.

“I can’t,” Jacob moans. “I’m gonna throw up.”

“Not on me, not on me!” Ari cries out, cringing toward his door.

Hurriedly, I procure my beverage bottle. “Vomit in here. Don’t do it on the — ”

Too late. It’s all over the seat.

That earlier whisper pushes me closer to the edge.

“I gave you the bottle in time!” I yell.

“Eww! It’s sliding toward me!” Ari whines.

Grossed out, I pull up to the drop-off as a volunteer mom opens the car door. She looks at a green-around-the-gills Jacob and questions, “Is he going to school like that?”

“Yes,” I say firmly as I push the kids outside with the cars behind me honking insistently.

“Love you,” I shout as I drive off.

Within seconds, I suffer a barrage of guilt for having lost my composure, for not saying more comforting words, for not having parked the car and made sure Jacob would be OK. But the devil on my shoulder argues that I’m gonna have to clean the vomit, pick up those kids later, cook for them, get them to do their homework, plan their summer camp schedule, help with their college applications, pick out their wedding invitations — I really could speed far away from everything! Just leave the whole daddy package in the dust.

Then, the freeway congestion opens up and so does my mind. I won’t race off to an unfettered existence because, when all is said and done, what matters most in parenting is staying on the road well traveled. It’s rolling through everything from the car throws up to the MRIs for adolescent back ailments without taking the offramp.

In this new year, I resolve to take greater stock in the fortitude that keeps me coming back for more of this often grueling parenting endeavor. I truly feel that it’s no great shame to imagine life without the constant responsibilities children place upon us and it’s essential that we at least take breaks (date night, ball games with buddies, grown-up vacations) from the rigmarole for our sanity. But there’s great pride to be had in just showing up as a mom or dad, however imperfect we may be. Parenthood is more than a marathon; it’s a lifelong road trip that can bring subtle but powerful rewards if we allow ourselves to appreciate the power of just being there.

Posted in Columns by Family Man, Work-Family Balance | Leave a comment

A Winter of Wonder

Posted on March 21, 2011 by Family Man

By Gregory Keer

“Actually, there is no Santa Claus.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“It’s really just your parents putting presents under a tree.”

With this simple exchange, all my efforts to preserve a sense of wonder for my children seemed to disappear like a certain red-suited man into the night sky.

No, my son was not the one who had his bubble burst. My son was the self-designated debunker of myths.

“Jacob really didn’t do that, did he?” I said to my wife when she reported the crime against imagination.

“Freddy’s father won’t let him play with Jacob ever again,” Wendy revealed.

We both sat there feeling vaguely sick. We had never even hinted that there might not be a Santa Claus. In fact we had raised all of our sons to believe in everything from the spirit of Elijah coming to our Passover celebration to the Tooth Fairy’s punctual visits with the loss of each baby chomper.

Wendy and I always wanted our sons’ world soaring with flights of fancy that could open their minds. From the time they were born, we sprinkled their dreams with countless fantastical books about dragons that made easy pets and Greek gods who could summon the elements at will. We even made up our own stories which put our boys at the center of magical tales involving red pirates, black robots, and a lonely imaginary friend called “Gigglemonster.”

Not a month after the Santa Claus incident, Jacob the Literalist struck again — at the aforementioned Tooth Fairy.

“Ari, that’s not really fairy dust on the floor,” he explained to our five-year-old about the baby powder we employed to make it look like the real “Captain Incisor” had dropped by.

“Mommy and Daddy left you the money under your pillow,” he continued in his assault on our littlest one’s rightful illusions. “By the way, they should have left you more than two dollars.”

Nice. Not only was our kid stealing years of blissful ignorance from his younger brother, he was nitpicking our generosity. And he was taking away our God-given right to conjure and manipulate figments of imagination. Heck, for years, my dad was able to act like a magician who could say “poof” and the traffic light would turn green (I was about driving age before I figured out how he did it). As a Dad, I wanted to have that power, too.

So what do we do with a child, now nine years old going on 50, who shoots down pretend creatures as if they were a line of rubber ducks in an arcade shooting gallery?

The deeper truth is that Jacob is wrestling with the world, trying to make sense of it, to control it. He wants to be the one with the most information. He worries he will forget to bring his homework on time and frets about his parents coming late to pick him up from soccer practice.

It all stems from Jacob’s hyper-observational tendencies that pick up on the anxiety my wife and I have about meeting deadlines, earning enough money, and making sure everyone has on the right clothes for the day.

We certainly don’t invite our kids into our adult cyclone and our other two carry on with few cares in the world. However, Jacob seems to think he has to act middle aged. This is why he is the first one to do his chores and offer to return his modest allowance to help pay bills.

To alleviate his concerns, we have assured him that we’ve got everything under control. Food, shelter, and clothing are guaranteed, even if exotic vacations and Daddy’s hoped-for 350 Z are not. We want Jacob to be a little kid, to believe in magical creatures and dreams that come true.

So we continue to read to Jacob, tell him stories, show him whimsical paintings, and screen inventive movies. And, thankfully, he loves it all – which doesn’t mean he’ll be converted all the way back into a wide-eyed innocent. It’s OK, though, because it’s our job as his parents to balance the really true with the really amazing.

While magic seems particularly absent in a world of economic fear and mortal danger, this holiday time is more important than ever to boost our children’s sense of wonder, to shower them with all the stories of flying reindeer and miracles of light and whatever your cultural, religious, or family traditions offer. This is not to pull the wool over their eyes. This is to fill them with the power of possibility.

Posted in Child Development, Columns by Family Man, Humor | Leave a comment

Thank You For Being a Friend

Posted on March 21, 2011 by Family Man

By Gregory Keer

When I was 12, my father took me to a college basketball game where we met up with a colleague of his named Herbie and his son.

“This is my boy Eric,” Herbie announced. “Give him a kiss hello.”

Could a father say anything more uncomfortable to two adolescent boys? Still, Eric and I laughed and managed to refocus our attention on the more macho pursuit of commenting on the ball game. Eric was as much a wise-cracker as his dad and that night was the beginning of a fast friendship.

This August, like we have for the past eight summers, Eric and I saw each other at a family camp run by the very college whose basketball team we cheered for 30 years ago. As is our tradition, we greeted each other with a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Why did you guys kiss?” my nine-year-old, Jacob, asked.

“Because I love this guy,” I said. “Eric and I were BFFs before there was a term ‘BFF.’ Now we’re DFFs – Dad Friends Forever.”

In the last year, my friendship with Eric has strengthened. While we were constant companions all the way through college, divergent career pursuits and widening geographical distance made our bonding time scarcer during our 30s. But, spurred by the annual connection our families share at camp, we’ve returned to “man dates” of going to basketball games and dinners.

In my 40s, making time for my buddies is more important than ever. And it’s not just because my wife has urged me to follow the scenario of the film I Love You, Man. It’s that, after the long years of struggling to mature into the man I want to be, I must now function as the man I am. The male friends I choose to hang out with make it easier because they’re no longer so concerned about competing with each other to see who can get the hotter chick, drain the most jump shots, or get the more prestigious job. We are all humbled by the challenges of life and are looking for ways to support each other. Perhaps we’re taking a page out of our wives’ social manuals to maintain more communication, but we’re man enough to admit it works. 

In the past, one of the reasons I fell out of touch with my buddies was because I wanted to spend as many non-working hours with my kids as possible. I thought that I would be stealing time from them to go out for grown-up “playdates.” Even when the kids fell asleep, I remained unmotivated to go back out for coffee with a friend once in a while because, frankly, I was dead tired. With my sons getting older, having homework and other preoccupations of their own – such as maintaining good friendships —  I find more opportunities for guy time.

I’ve even made room for new buddies, though building relationships from the ground up takes significant investment for guys in their 40s on up. So it’s really cool to get out for black-and-tan beers with my pal Jonathan, who is one of those people whose wisdom and humility help me navigate the sometimes stormy waters of modern malehood. Also, one of his sons is a bit older than Benjamin, which makes him a great mentor about what lies ahead on the road of fatherhood.

Yes, some of the stuff we men discuss actually goes beyond baseball and action movies. Talking with my dudes has been a true benefit to my sanity on the seemingly never-ending road of responsibility. I value my daily communication with my wife about parenting and other life management issues, but I need to rap with other guys about the masculine pressures of being a role model, of balancing leisure time vs. making more cash, and wondering whether we’ve fulfilled the goals we set out for ourselves.

This is why I’m picking up the phone more often, using email, and mastering Facebook to be in better touch with friends like Jeff, who lives across the country. It’s difficult to connect, given a three-hour time difference, but I value his quick wit and the similarities we have as husbands to energetic working wives, fathers to three sons, and practitioners in the writing and education fields. 

This Thanksgiving, along with being grateful for all the blessings of family and health, I want to give thanks to my friends. Because of you guys, I can forgo the facetiousness when I say, I love you, man.

Posted in Columns by Family Man, Friendship | Leave a comment

And the Beat Goes On

Posted on March 21, 2011 by Family Man

By Gregory Keer

I’m battling a bad back, bone spurs in my heel, and a creaky knee. By looking at me, you’d never know I was the John Travolta of middle school. Really, I even took a disco class in 6th grade and got to “Night Fever” with Tracey Singer (hello, Tracey, wherever you are).

My dancing roots go back to those childhood Saturdays I spent watching TV, copying the guys on American Bandstand and learning to jump around the furniture like Gene Kelly in The Pirate.

I didn’t exactly broadcast my preoccupation to elementary-school buddies. When I did dance in public, at camp shows or religious school events, I got called names that rhymed with wussy and hag. You know, the usual “enlightened” young male reactions. With macho preservation in mind, I stuck to more socially acceptable activities of playing hardcore dodge ball and recounting episodes of Kung Fu.

As disco rose in time for adolescence, I found freedom in courting girls with spins and half-splits. I thought about taking formal lessons, but I once again became too insecure about the unmanliness of it. That and the fact my dancing skills plateaued and were best left for household performances like Tom Cruise’s Risky Business underwear scene.

Nothing can bring back the joy of my youthful hoofing experiences. Nothing, except watching my sons take pride in their own happy feet.

From the time our kids were little, my wife and I would put on music, particularly this multicultural CD called Dance Around the World, and bop about the house with the boys. They would leap onto the coffee table to wiggle with abandon and giggle at my dancing foolishness.

When Benjamin was in first grade, he and his friend Nicky took dance classes at school. It was those two little guys and eight girls — nice odds, though Benjamin was oblivious to that at the time. He loved the experience and dressed all hip-hop for his big performance, which featured his surprisingly coordinated footwork in two-person and larger ensemble dances.

After the show, the pretty teacher walked up to me and said, “Where did Benjamin get his groove?”

I tried to act cool and answered, “I used to have rhythm.”

But Benjamin fell into his own self-consciousness as he got older and stopped dancing. He even made fun of his younger brother, Jacob, who grooved like a combination of Usher and Baryshnikov during our house parties.

“You dance like a girl,” Benjamin said.

“No, he doesn’t, and you danced just like that not long ago,” I responded.

“Other people are going to make fun of him,” Benjamin replied.

“That’s their problem,” I said. “And it shouldn’t be yours.”

Despite the brotherly ridicule, Jacob joined a pop-dance class early last year. He learned everything from breakdancing to High School Musical-style numbers. As I watched Jacob count to himself to stay on the beat and dramatically slide across the floor during his class performance, I was flush with pride — and falling into the very trap for which I scolded Benjamin. I worried that Jacob looked a little feminine and would have to endure the mocking of other kids.

While I worked on rising above my concerns, I got help from an unexpected source.

“Mom, Dad, can I join the pop-dance class?” Benjamin said just before second semester last year.

“I thought you said dancing was girlie,” I answered.

“Well, it’s a lot of hip-hop, so it’s OK,” he offered. “And my friends are doing it, too.”

So, the wheel turned, and dancing became boy-approved in my house. For the year-end show, Jacob — dressed like an ‘80s rapper in a torn t-shirt and bandana — was an acrobatic marvel. Attired in his usual clothes, Benjamin was more subdued as he moved with his posse of friends.

This year, the boogie continues as Jacob takes pop-dance again, and Benjamin (now in middle school) joins pals at a studio to keep it going. My five year old, Ari, is influenced by them and loves to rock out to Kanye West, even in his car seat.

In a complicated world in which dance is given few outlets, especially with gender pressures, I’m happy to see my sons let the beat run its natural course. Kids know what to do with music. We adults need to help clear the social and physical space for them to strut their stuff.

Just so long as we don’t try to school them with our old Travolta moves. Trust me, I’m still limping from the last time I tried.

Posted in Columns by Family Man, Humor | Leave a comment

Predatory Birds and Killer Bees

Posted on March 21, 2011 by Family Man

By Gregory Keer

I thought I’d be good at explaining the birds and the bees to my children. My own parents left the heavy lifting to a read-aloud of the book Where Do I Come From? when I was 11. So I planned to customize the lessons for each kid’s personality, giving the right information without overdoing it.

Based on the first three talks, I’ve been a disaster.

“Benjamin knows what the ‘s’ word is,” my wife told me four years ago on one fateful evening.

“You mean the bad word for ‘poopie’?” I said.

“No, I think they’ve been giggling about ‘sex’ at school,” she responded. “You have to talk to him now.”

“Why me?” I groaned. “He’s eight years old. Isn’t this too soon?”

“If you don’t do it, his friends will, and he’ll get the wrong information,” she reasoned.

So, I sat Benjamin at the kitchen table with every intention of being a wise teacher.

“Do you know what sex is?” I opened.

Benjamin fought a smile and shook his head.

“You know that boys have penises and girls…have…vag…”

Then I whinnied like a ticklish horse. Benjamin laughed so hard, he fell off his chair.

It took me a while to regain my composure, but I managed to frame sex as something that happens when people love each other and want to have a baby. I saved the more complicated details for years later.

For his part, Benjamin emitted a few “eewww’s” that assured me he was far from sexual activity. However, he did have one question.

 “Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because we heard you were using the ‘s’ word,” I said.

“You mean the bad word for ‘poopie’?” he giggled.

Later, I told my wife I would never trust her interpretation of anything ever again.

Flash forward to the 2009-2010 parenting season, which has been punctuated by two sex talks.

The first one involved talking to Benjamin (11 at the time) about his changing body and view of the opposite gender. Once again, Benjamin was tight-lipped. So, wouldn’t you know, I pulled out a copy of Where Do I Come From? and read it to him. I’ve never seen the kid so engrossed in illustrations in my life.

Overall, it was a good introduction for the shorter talks we’ve since had regarding girls and the emotions that accompany adolescence.

Then, there was the dialogue I had with Jacob (8) after dinner one night.

“Daddy, I know what sex is, it’s when a man puts his penis in a woman’s vagina and she gets pregnant and that’s where the baby comes out, out of her vagina.”

Yes, it was all one sentence.

“Wendy!” I yelled across the house. “Can you handle this one?”

When she came in, Jacob hit her with the information.

“Mommy, I know what sex is, it’s when a man puts his penis in a woman’s vagina and she gets pregnant and that’s where the baby comes out, out of her vagina.”

Wendy took one look at me and said, “He’s a boy. You’re a boy. Talk to him.”

And she scrammed.

Jacob beamed at me from the couch. I sat down with him.

“Do you have any questions?” I asked, hoping he wouldn’t.

“Does it have to happen in a bed, or can you do it standing up, or on a table?” he rattled off.

I wondered if it was wrong to offer him ice cream just to retract the question.

“Most people do it in a bed,” I said, praying he wouldn’t ask how his mother and I conceived him.

“When I want to do it, do I just bump into the girl and say ‘sorry,’ then she’s pregnant?” he said.

“It takes a little longer,” I muttered.

“Does it hurt?” he wondered.

“It’s nice, usually…where did all of these thoughts come from?” I countered.

“I heard some of it from Franklin, but also from Rain,” he admitted. “Rain said if that’s what happens, she just wants to adopt.”

The comment was good for a laugh, but I cautioned him that it’s best to have conversations about sex with Mommy or Daddy since we have the most facts.

“Can we talk some more about naked stuff,” he continued.

“Not tonight,” I said with a grin. “But make sure you ask Mommy all about it tomorrow.”

That was fair. It takes two to make a baby, so there might as well be two making a mess of explaining how it happens.

Posted in Columns by Family Man, Humor, Love and Courtship, Sex Ed | Leave a comment

Subtext

Posted on March 21, 2011 by Family Man

By Gregory Keer

In my youngest son’s preschool, the teachers furnish the cubbies with slips of paper that say, “Ask me about…” followed by a tidbit regarding each child’s activities.

One day at pick-up, I asked Ari about building a fort with his buddies.

“How did you know I did that?” Ari inquired guardedly.

“I read it on the paper from your teachers,” I replied.

At this, my son broke into tears, “I don’t want to share all my secrets!”

Because I prize the uninhibited daily accounts I usually get from Ari and my loquacious middle child, Jacob (8), this was a serious blow I blame on the influence of my eldest boy. Benjamin (11) keeps secrets better than a Cold War spy. During countless car rides and dinners, he’s had the same response whenever we’ve asked him what he did for his day: “Nothing.”

In the early years, we wised up and got the scoop from his instructors, other parents, and his friends.

“Benjamin had to sit on the rug in front of Ms. Renetzky,” one girl told us about him in kindergarten.

Luckily, he’s been a largely low-maintenance child, who laughs readily, still cuddles a little while watching TV with the family, and shares his iPod downloads with us. Frankly, we like him a lot.

But as he climbs the ladder of adolescence, that penchant for saying little is driving my wife and me bonkers. Making matters more complicated are the hints from other parents about Benjamin’s burgeoning interest in girls and leaks from teachers about his lapses in diligence.

We’ve tried to crack his Keanu Reeves affect with face-to-face conversation. I’ve had several talks about the birds and the bees without so much as a flutter of feedback. To no avail, I’ve tried humor and bellowing to learn what he does while he’s at school or hanging out with buddies.

This is why we’ve begun to rely on the very mechanism that makes Benjamin tick – technology. We eventually gave in to a cell phone under the condition that we had full access to monitor it. And while we’ve had our trials of making sure he’s safe from wayward adults and overly mature contemporaries, we’ve become fans of this device because it’s given us a remarkably effective means of communicating with our thoroughly modern son.

Here’s a sample of the texts we’ve discovered our son has sent and what we’ve done in response:

“Don’t tell anyone, but Jimmy likes you a little.” This led to a discussion about everything from what “like” means to an 11 year old to what you should do if you and your best friend “like” the same young lady. It also forced me to learn that kids no longer call someone “cute” because it means they “like” another person a bit more than I heretofore thought “like” meant.

“My parents took my phone away. That’s fine because I can still use the computer.” We took the computer away too. The crucial benefit of my child’s attachment to his technology is that I can take it all away to teach him some lesson about being kinder to his family members and doing his chores.

“I just forgot to tell you about the D in math.” Actually, this was a response from our son that came to us when we texted him from the back-to-school night presentation. We had discovered we should have seen the five-week report card that afternoon. Using a text from the very site of his ill-fated arithmetic results made it hard for him to conjure any answer but the truth.

Not all the texting is negative. It’s good for our son to know he has yet to completely outfox us. We’re swift and savvy enough to learn the texting lingo and ins-and-outs of its usage to make sure he acts his best. Even if he gets a few texts by us, he knows we’re watching, so it makes him think twice about what he writes.

Secondly, getting more adept with our thumbs has allowed my wife and me to send our son reminders about his schedule and to pull more information out of him than we thought possible. It also gives us conversation starters to get specific details on his relationships, interests, and plans.

He actually thinks we’re not so square because we can communicate this way, which is a nice byproduct for a dad who still questions the attractiveness of wearing pants without a belt.

Posted in Columns by Family Man, Humor, Tweens | 1 Comment