First, a public service announcement for The Fatherhood Means Challenge. The National Fatherhood Initiative a.k.a. fatherhood.org is sponsoring a video and photography contest on what it means to be a father. Basically what they’re looking for are videos and photographs that expresses what involved, responsible, and committed fatherhood means to you. Since the sponsoring organization is a non-profit, the contest is not for commercial purposes but to spark discussions and interest in fatherhood. To enter, videos must be uploaded onto YouTube and photos uploaded to flickr. They must be tagged with “fatherhoodmeans” to be eligible. Videos need to be between 20 seconds and 2 minutes. The 1st place prizes are a DVD camcorder for best video and for best photo a point and shoot digital camera. The prizes are decent, but my main motivation for entering is to just to have a bit of creative fun while expressing my love for my son and the joy of being a dad. The contest ends May 14th and the winners will be announced on Father’s Day. I’m definitely looking forward to seeing some what my fellow fathers create.

More information at http://www.fatherhood.org/fatherhoodmeans/

Continuing along the culinary theme of some recent entries, a couple of months ago my 2 year old was jonesing for some macaroni and cheese aka mac cheese. Unfortunately (or fortunately), we ran out of the quick and easy boxed stuff. Since it was a cold and rainy Sunday, I didn’t particularly feel like changing out of my favorite fuzzy pj’s and trudge on over to the supermarket. So I decided to play Iron Chef and do a little improv cooking to see what I can make with the current ingredients that we had. We didn’t have any elbow macaroni, but we did have some twisty corkscrew style pasta. I use to live in SF’s Little Italy and a neighbor taught me how to make a quick and simple Alfredo style sauce in a pinch with boatloads of butter, gobs of grated parmesan cheese, and some milk. After cooking the pasta and scrounging up the ingredients at hand, I tossed them all in a big pan with a dash of pepper. No measuring, I simply mixed and stirred everything, adding more and more grated parmesan cheese until I liked the consistency. In our fridge I also found a Mexican style four-cheese blend made up of Cheddar, Monterey Jack, Asadero and Queso cheeses. I wasn’t sure if it would mix well or not, but it was all we had. So I heaped on a couple of handfuls and was pleasantly surprised to watch it smoothly mix in with the pasta and sauce. After a couple of smaller heapings of the cheese blend and a bit more grated parmesan cheese, I felt it was finally ready for the toddler taste test. The ultimate satisfaction came when his eyes lit up after sampling a bit of my gastronomic concoction and he loudly declared “Yummy!” He now just doesn’t ask for mac cheese, but specifically requests “daddy’s special mac cheese”.

His taste buds also extend into the realm of the exotic. A few weeks ago, we went out to dinner for sushi with some family and friends. My sister ordered grilled baby octopus for an appetizer and my son asked her what she was eating. When she told him, I thought he would be horrified since one of his favorite stuffed toys is an octopus. Instead, he asked if he can try some. With a bit of trepidation, we gave him a very small piece to try and much to everyone’s surprise he really liked it. He actually ended up eating more than half of my sister’s food and she had to order more. It was a little mind boggling watching my son eat octopus and seeing tentacles sticking out of his mouth. He even specifically said that he liked the tentacles because they were chewy. The most disturbing part for me was that he liked it so much that he said he wanted to cook up and eat his toy octopus when we got home. I was somewhat relieved when I saw him the other day pretending to cook in the kitchen and he said that he was making some special mac cheese for me. Hmmm...now that I think about it, it’s been a while since the last time I’ve seen his toy Octopus.

What are some of the comfort foods and crazy cuisine that your children like? 

Back in the mid-90’s or so, I remember there was a television commercial set on a calm and serene lake. It was a nice sunny day, the sun glistening over the water, birds were singing and a quiet breeze was blowing in the background. On the lake there were two men fishing in a boat, just relaxing and passing the time. The 30 something year old guy then turns to the older man and says “Dad, there’s something I want to tell you.” The father then asked “What is it, son?” The son went on and said “Well, Dad. You’re my only dad...and I just wanted to tell you that…I love you, maaaan!” and started sobbing loudly. The dad glanced over at his blubbering son and replied “Son, I love you too…but you’re not getting my Bud Light.” There were a series of similar commercials where the Bud Light dude ultimately ends up professing to another male “I love you, maaaan!” It seemed that after those commercials aired, it was okay for us men to tell our male buddies that we loved them. Provided of course that you emulated the same tone of voice as the Bud Light dude and used the catchphrase “I love you, maaaan!” It was an acceptable and ‘manly’ way to actually say how much you cared about your guy friends.

Fast forward a decade or so later and I no longer have any qualms saying in a straightforward manner to my close guy friends or male relatives that I love them. I’m constantly telling my 2 year-old son how much I love him. Now that he’s talking a lot more, he’s also starting to say “I love you daddy!” back to me as well. There was this one particular time earlier this month when we were playing, laughing, running around the house and just having a great time together. At some point he just spontaneously stopped what he was doing, ran towards me, gave me a huge hug and said “Daddy, I love youuu!” In that moment I actually got a little choked up. The look of affection in my son’s eyes quickly turned to dismay when he saw some of my tears. He became deeply concerned and said, “Daddy, why are you so sad?!?” He then ran to my wife and yelled “Mommy, there’s something wrong with daddy!” My wife and I had to explain to our little boy that people not only cry when they’re sad, but that sometimes people will also cry when they’re really, really happy. He was a bit puzzled by our response, so we asked him if he had ever been so happy that he felt like crying with joy. After a brief pause, his face lit up and he exclaimed “Oh...like baseball!” Yup, nothing like beer to spread the love among your buddies and baseball to bring a dad and son closer together. 

Ahoy me mateys! It’s Cap’n Newbie Dad and we went on a maiden voyage to ye ole Disneyland with our li’l 22 month-old pirate in training early last month. Part of the extended crew included Admiral Grandpa Newbie, Pirate Queen Grandma Newbie, and Pirate Princess Auntie Newbie. A coupla me fellow Cap’ns included Cap’n Cousin Jolly Roy, his 2 yer-old Pirate Princess in Training, and me boy’s Godfather Cap’n Crazy Cousin Eddie.

Bless me wifey the Pirate Queen Mommy Newbie fer surviving her motley in-laws! She was ‘bout to make me walk the plank and banish me to the depths of Davey Jone’s locker for all eternity. Our next voyage to the Magic Kingdom will most likely be just the immediate Newbie Crue.

One of me boys fav’rite books is ‘How I Became a Pirate’ by Melinda Long. And when our li’l pirate-to-be spotted the Pirates of the Caribbean, he really wanted to go on it. Avast! ‘Tis was a big mistake! It was really too scary fer the l’il fellow. He screamed and cried the moment our ship swooshed down the deep dark tunnel. But fear not! Me boy survived the perilous journey and even picked up the Pirate theme song. Check out the YouTube video. -Sniff Sniff- He does a papa Pirate proud!

October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month. And as many of you may know, breast cancer is one the leading cause of death among women. The good news is that breast cancer has the highest survival rate out all types of cancer, provided it is detected and treated early enough.

We hear lots of stories in the media about women and their experiences with breast cancer. What we rarely hear about is a dad’s role in helping their children cope and understand. I hope and pray that’s a role I never have to play. But if I ever do, I will have my own dad to look to as a role model. You see, my mom is a breast cancer survivor and my dad did the best thing possible for me as a son. He was there for my mom every single step of the way. He was at every doctor’s appointment, every prayer, and every support group meeting. He was also there for my sister and I.

He showed me how a loving and dedicated father should be in these types of circumstances. He was optimistic without offering us any false hope. He said that we’ll just deal with things as they come and take it one day at a time. He was a pillar of strength when we needed him to be one. He also let us know that he too was just as terrified as we were. As a role model, he showed me that you can be both strong and vulnerable. He also showed me the true meaning of the words in sickness and in health.

Now that I’m a husband and father, the best way I can be a role model for my son is to support organizations in the fight against breast cancer. Prevention is the best weapon and I’m doing my part to make sure that my wife and mother of my son never gets this disease. Why, even this morning when I went grocery shopping I grabbed four Pilsbury Crescent Rolls with a Pink for the Cure label ensuring a donation by General Mills. I just really wished the Chocolate Chip Cookies had a Pink label as well. Hey, every little bit helps.

In all seriousness, breast cancer affects us all. Today, there are more resources available for breast cancer patients and the families that love them. A quick search online brings up thousands of local and national organizations that are here to help those who need it. Until there’s a cure, these organizations could definitely use our help and support as well. So if you’re out grocery shopping, be sure to buy items that donate a portion of their sales to breast cancer research. Or even better provide support directly to one of these organizations. Hopefully some day soon no one will ever have to say or hear the words “Mommy has breast cancer”. 

When my wife and I found out we were going to be parents for a second time around we were extremely thrilled. We were also taken completely by surprise. With our first child, we had a fairly difficult time getting pregnant. We were like the stereotypical sitcom couple desperately trying to have a baby. We checked dates, charted cycles, counted days, tracked temperatures by the hour, etc. We spent hours upon hours reading books, watching videos and researching online the latest tips, tricks and handstand techniques to help us conceive. We even sought treatment from an acupuncturist who poked both of us full of holes and had us drinking different herbal concoctions. When that didn’t work, we finally went to a fertility clinic where they had my wife hopped on various hormonal treatments. Let’s just say that such hormonal treatments can definitely affect one’s mood and we’ll leave the rest to your imagination or own personal experience. Thankfully, we were finally successful after six cycles. So we thought that if we wanted to have another child, we would have to follow the same rigorous Cirque du Fertili-tay routine as before. This time around however, it was as easy and natural as can be.

Knowing what I now know about the joys of fatherhood and the unimaginable love I have for my son, I was really looking forward to baby numero deux. We were still somewhat in a state of disbelief about my wife’s pregnancy until we saw our baby’s tiny beating heart for the first time in an ultrasound. I imagined what it would be like to have another boy, especially if he was as rambunctious as my first. The two of them running through the house, me chasing them, me making a mess, me breaking something, then me blaming the boys when their mom got home. Or perhaps this time it would be a girl. I thought about the relationship my sister and dad have, and also about the special bond my wife has with her father. It’s truly wonderful to see how much my dad and my father-in-law love and cherish their daughters. But as my wife neared the end of her first trimester, something wasn’t quite right. It didn’t seem like there was anything seriously wrong, just something different than what she experienced during her first pregnancy. She already had an appointment scheduled with her doctor the following week, but decided to reschedule it for the next day. I was at work when she called me from her doctor’s office. My wife didn’t have to say a word as her sobbing over the phone was enough. As sad as we may be, we know that it would have been much harder and more painful had this happened later in my wife’s pregnancy. We hope to have another child and at least we now know that we can get pregnant without the needles, acrobatic routines or ultra-mega-dose hormonal treatments from before.