Mr. Mom’s (Snippets of) Holiday Thoughts…..

by Marc Parsont

Chanukah - ChristmasEarlier this evening, I was dumping old files from my computer and started pulling pictures of the kids out of computer memory. I smiled, but it was one of those half-hearted, oh-my-gosh I’m-getting-old smiles, because I barely even remember those little faces, anymore.

That’s probably one of the only reasons I put up with the holidays: I love my kids, unequivocally, totally and frighteningly so. I’m struggling to hold on to each stage of their growth, each milestone, every tear they shed. Sometimes I feel that I have no idea how to be a parent! Heck, I’m still having trouble being a grown-up.

But, here’s my biggest dilemma: I don’t really care about the gifts. I never know what to buy for the kids, the cousin’s kids, etc. […]

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Just Before Two Years/Six Months/Five Days and a Handful of Hours – Ago

by Stefan Kleinschuster

hollywoodWhat do I do here, in Hollywood, with the V-Word? Backstory: (Before Kid) I remember scores of parents everywhere talking about their children. Sorry, that’s a lie. I don’t remember scores of parents saying anything. That would have required caring about what parents were saying, and I remember a decade or two, maybe four or so, when I didn’t much care what they said.

Apart from that, I do recall them asking things in plangent tones like, “‘What are we teaching our children about the world?” and other sayings that felt a good deal like whining at the time.

Back then – about two years, six months, five days and a handful of hours  (that is, before Sophie was born) – I could not have cared less about what we were teaching our children. Especially, about the V-Word. No, get your minds out of the bedrooms. I meant Violence. It’s no big deal, right? Especially since it’s everywhere? […]

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The Art of Fatherhood

by Nancy LaMar-Rodgers

Nancy LaMar's dad and babyDads on Duty

These days, it seems that dads have taken on a more prominent role when it comes to raising the kids.  Dads are not just showing up at baseball or soccer games but are attending the parent/teacher conferences and sometimes even making the play date arrangements.

Where has this new sense of fatherhood stemmed from?  What role reversal has evolved in the new millennium that has made it politically correct for men to even don the new fangled breast feeding devices that, up until a few years ago, that duty, by nature, was for moms only?

Old School Parenting

My own father was a child of The Great Depression. And, when I asked him once what his father did for a living, his response was, “whatever he could, kid.”  His reply made me realize how many generations of fathers never had the luxury of truly participating in a child’s life.  These dads of the early and mid part of the 20th century, who racked up long hours and put in enough overtime as it took to afford the bicycle at Christmas time or new baseball glove.  […]

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The Forever Fatherhood of Fame (A Tribute to My Father)

by Lynn Reilly

hall of fameIf you were to meet my father in person, you would not call him trendy, ahead of the times, or progressive.  He would not stand out in any way other than a warm, welcoming smile that makes you wonder what’s behind it. His classic Dockers, or jeans and white sneakers with a polo shirt would quickly categorize him as the conservative businessman he is. He is polite and friendly, but not overly friendly.

He is considerate, but likes things run his way.  He acknowledges himself as unique, but really, he just blends into a crowd. You wouldn’t meet my father and know he raised two kids primarily on his own. You wouldn’t know the mother of his children spent the majority of their marriage in and out of treatment for a mental illness that disabled her on many levels.

You wouldn’t know when he finally left the marriage it was because the roller coaster had no end in sight and there was nothing left that he hadn’t tried to make it work. You also wouldn’t know the intense pain and regret he felt when the woman he vowed to love forever, eventually took her own life. […]

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My Father By Any Other Name…

by Heather Griffiths

It doesn’t matter who your father was; it matters who I remember he was – Anne Sexton

heather's childhood family with father

What or rather who is a father?  If you grew up in a Norman Rockwell painting, a father is depicted as someone who is there for you – supportive and attentive in every way; the “rule setter” – the stern but loving man who helped guide you into adulthood.  The man who would give you away on your wedding day to the person you love.

For me,  I grew up in a single-parent household with my mother and sisters. The person I knew to be my father was unsupportive – a staunch alcoholic rule-breaker in every sense of the word. Still, to this day, he has no idea when my birthday is.  Yet, as a child he was my father.  I grew up learning that I should love him and respect him, regardless. […]

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