It’s Mother’s Day today and although this is a site for Dads written by Dads, I would be remiss if I didn’t take a moment today to pause and celebrate Mothers.

I’m thankful that my mother cared enough about me that she was willing to invest so much of herself into raising me and my brother. Even now though I am an adult she’s still looking out for me. That’s the committment of parent: a lifetime of nurturing and love.

I’m also thankful that I have my wife with me to raise our two daughters. My hope for them is that they will one day be mothers themselves raising their own families. I hope they are paying attention to what their mother is teaching them for they can learn a great deal just from observing her.

The older that my kids get the more I realize how little I know about what to teach them. I’m glad my wife is with me to round out their education as I am sure there is much that I would miss teaching them. As my oldest daughter moves closer and closer to being a teenager I am glad my wife is around to deal with the many personal issues that arise with a girl growing into a young woman. Let’s face it, guys, we don’t understand women and are ill-equipped to teach our girls about being women. It’s a good thing we have our wives to help us along.

I couldn’t help think today, too, of the single moms that we know who have been forced to raise their kids on their own. Hats off to you ladies as you have an especially difficult task ahead of you. I can’t even begin to imagine how you manage to raise your kids without someone alongside you to help. It’s tough enough being a parent when your spouse is there with you. Going alone seems an almost insurmountable task.

Guys, if you haven’t done so already, let me encourage you to thank your mother today for all the sacrifices she made for you. If you’re married, be sure to thank your wives also for being willing to take on the most difficult yet rewarding job in the world: parent.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the Mothers out there from all of us at Dadbloggers.

My kids’ grandfather, my father-in-law, passed away last week.  He was diagnosed with prostate cancer about a year and a half ago.  Thanks to the VA cutting corners with the tests they were supposed to be doing, the cancer was already in Stage 4 when they discovered it, and had already moved into his bones and throughout his body.  Had they actually been doing the tests they said they were, they would have caught it sooner and possibly been able to treat it more effectively. But that is not the point.

This is the first time my wife and I have had to explain death to our children on a personal level.  Only my oldest had ever been to a viewing before. His only question back then was whether the body in the casket was going to be a vampire or a zombie. Thanks, Buffy.  This time, he’s now 8, he understands what it means that Grandpa is dead and he has broken down into tears several times since finding out.

My 4-year-old never really cried, but seems to understand that Grandpa is in Heaven.  She became somber when we first told her, but we really focused on the fact that Grandpa was no longer sick or in pain and that we would see him again one day.  This has been enough for her, and I think she understands.

My 3-year-old never really gave any sign of misunderstanding.  She seemed to be in the same boat as my 4-year-old.  That was until we were at the grave site.  The services were all concluded and the family was hanging around talking, consoling each other and not wanting to leave.  My little girl was looking at the casket, and then turned to my wife and asked when Grandpa was coming out. My wife explained the situation again, and my sweet little girl truly became sad for the first time.

How do you explain death to children who don’t quite understand such concepts?  I am sure the next time we are at Grandma’s we will get the question of, “Where’s Grandpa?” Another question is, what will come first: their understanding of death or their forgetting what Grandpa was really like?

My side of the family comes from decidedly non-Viking-like stock. We have a good bit of southern woods Native American (those are Indians) mixed in, along with (I’m assuming) some sort of pale European genetic material. Unlike my wife’s side of the family, who are endowed with a dollop of hefty Germanic breeding, myself and the rest of my family are little people for the most part.

But we’re spunky and that makes up for a lot.

Yesterday MLI (my little introvert) came home from daycare with an injury report and this time he wasn’t the victim. Instead, he was the cause. Or was he?

As is always the case with these things, what happened leading up to the “incident” depends largely on whom you talk to. My son’s teacher told Careermom that an older boy was being some sort of undisclosed “mean” to my son and in retaliation, my son bit him. The “victim’s” teacher says my son was just being mean. MLI hasn’t bitten anyone since he was a toddler and he’s four now, so something unusual must have happened to cause him to do this.

Of course he got “the talk” and he lost a privilege or two at home, but throughout the evening, both CareerMom and I questioned him about the incident, and the story, at least from his viewpoint, unfolded something like this:

MLI and some of his friends are often on the playground at the same time as a couple of older classes. There are some older boys who, for whatever reason, gravitate around my son and his friends, probably because my son and his homeys are usually playing “Superfriends” while these older kids are playing “Power Rangers.” Now, for some reason, I have a serious aversion to the Power Rangers, as do the parents of MLI’s best friend, so they don’t play Power Rangers. But this doesn’t stop the older kids from coming over and attempting to rope the younger ones into playing. And in doing so, they call them “Boom Rangers.” Yeah, I don’t get it either, but...whatever.  The point is, the older kids frequently bother the younger kids and this isn’t the first time we’ve heard of there being a problem.

Yesterday while my son was on the swing, this other boy stood nearby trying to get him off the swing and kept calling him a “Boom Ranger.” There was also some kind of “...sneaking up on me and I don’t like that...” going on. This went on until somehow the two boys got really close together and MLI bit the older boy. End of story.

But I have a couple of problems with this:
1. My son bit an older boy? Hmm, that in itself is suspect. I mean, I don’t doubt that it happened; I doubt the “who’s at fault?” theory.
2. Why was this older boy stalking my child and where were the playground monitors?
3. My son typically avoids confrontation. If something is going on he doesn’t like, he attempts to flee (”...so we can fight another day!")

Looking back at the times when I was little when I did something notoriously stupid, like pushing Ryan Smith into the lockers in 5th grade after I’d finally taken enough of his crap, I know that I’d reacted out of sheer frustration, not meanness. It wasn’t premeditated; I simply reacted out of emotion. And you know what? It worked. Ryan and I became close friends, which most dads know is usually what happens in these situations.

Obviously, I can’t condone biting under any circumstances; but while I disagree with the method, I don’t begrudge him the sentiment, or for that matter, the act itself. Had the bite been a shove, or even a hit, as long as it was in self-defense, I’m OK with it.

Childhood psychologists worldwide are shaking their heads at me right now (I’m sure many read this blog), but folks I’m sorry, I’m not going to beat my kid up for defending himself.

But I’m curious to hear from other dads, and moms. How do you deal with these situations?

As it turns out, MLE (My Little Extrovert) was bitten yesterday, so as a whole, we came out even. The universe is pretty good like that isn’t it?

I wanted to take a short interlude this month.  One of the things I like most about blogs is finding other dads that are going through the same things I am.  Following blogs, and tracking down comments is a great way to do that.  Personally speaking, I think it’s not quite as easy to meet new people that way.  So when I found Twitter, I was pretty excited.  Once I signed up, I immediately met new Dad’s who are online and discussing fatherhood from any number of different perspectives.

Don’t know what Twitter is?  The popular term is micro-blogging You post what you’re doing in 140 characters or less.  People can sign up to ‘follow’ you, and they’ll get your messages.  I tend to think of it as a public\broadcast Instant Messaging platform.  If you’re already familiar with IM and have the ability to use this during the day, I’d highly recommend it as a way to find interesting discussions about any particular topic.

You can follow me here.  Twhirl is the client I use, you can download that here.  But you can also just view your twitter ‘stream’ on Twitter’s website.  If you’re looking for Dads to follow, this post by Derek Semmler is a great starting point. 

To some this might be information overload.  But you can pay attention at your own convenience.  And if you’re looking at this blog, you’re probably interested in meeting new people and reading about their perspectives on parenting.

Look me up and say hello!

Each week there is a celebration in our home. It begins early on Wednesday morning and includes singing, cheers, and some occasional dancing – it’s also included tears when one of the boys sleeps through the first phase. The celebration isn’t something my wife or I started; it began with one of our youngest son’s fascinations.

Each Wednesday morning, we hear the tell-tale screech and both the boys bolt out of bed and rush to the window to begin the celebration for a much needed, yet seldom recognized group of men, the “garb men” – known to you and me as garbage men.

My youngest son, Alex, loves big trucks and a garbage truck certainly qualifies. On trash day, they rush to the window for each wave (refuse, plastic & glass, and paper) of collection, scream “garb men”, and watch in fascination. Some days they simply return to what they were doing when the truck moves on, but on other days they run around singing praise to the garbage men – it’s quite a spectacle.

It may seem funny, but this celebration is one of the things that concerned me about moving. I accepted a new position in a different part of the country and one of the things I’ve been wondering is – will garbage day be too early or too late in the day for the celebration? We’re staying with friends for now and the kids were able to see the new garbage men – it wasn’t the same celebration, but the men were appreciated none the less.

There are a lot of things that we take for granted – jobs that people do that are necessary for our society to function, but jobs that I often overlook; things I take for granted. I realize that we can’t have a party every day for all the people that make our lives what they are, but my sons are certainly showing me that we can take the time to appreciate them more often.

Hurray for all of our civil servants and community helpers.