The Daily Dad

In his book, The Vanishing American Adult, Senator Ben Sasse pondered what might strike a person from the distant past as odd about our modern society. Aside from the technology, he said, they’d notice the extreme age segregation. Invariably today we spend time almost exclusively with people our own age. Our kids go to school with other kids. We work with other adults. Our own parents and grandparents are shunted off to retirement communities and old folks homes and cruise ships. The average age in the US Senate, where Sasse works, is around 61, and there are only 10 people in it under 50 years old. When was the last time you stayed under the same roof as someone twice your age? How many conversations do you have with people who grew up without the things you completely take for granted?In Lori McKenna’s song, Humble and Kind, she talks about “visiting grandpa every chance that you get.” It actually requires more than that, more than just seeing your own family. You have to make sure your kids aren’t stuck in a bubble, living their lives away from anyone but other children. Instead, you have to expose them to wisdom. Expose them to people who remember the good and the bad things that humans did in the recent and not-so-recent past. Expose them to people who have learned painful lessons. Expose them to people who have accomplished incredible things. The famous Supreme Court justice Oliver Wendell Holmes died two days short of his 94th birthday. But in those years, he managed to shake hands with John Quincy Adams (the 6th US President) and John F. Kennedy (the 35th US President), who were born almost exactly 150 years apart. Indeed, the 19th century remains just a handshake or two away. A few handshakes more and you’re back before the founding of America, a few handshakes more and you’re in uncharted territory. This is humbling. This is inspiring. This is eye opening. This is a human wormhole to timeless wisdom.People born today might live for a very long time. But the people born a long time ago don’t have many years left. Meet them while there is still time. Let your kids learn from them while there is still time. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Have you ever watched someone sit and play with a little kid for hours? Like totally engrossed, never checking a phone, never rushing, never getting bored or frustrated, never pulling the adult card? Maybe your spouse can do this, maybe you’ve seen a grandparent do it, maybe you’ve pulled up and watched the teachers at a daycare do it (or maybe you’ve watched them calmly, quietly put 10 kids down for a nap at the same time).When you see this sort of effortless presence and patience, it’s humbling. It’s an incredible feat of human endurance and focus; one that doesn’t seem to come naturally to all of us. And that’s the point: It doesn’t come naturally. Like all other feats of endurance and skill, it takes work. You build the muscle before you can use it to move mountains...or put a dozen toddlers to bed.But here’s the real question: Are you actually putting in enough of that kind of effort? Or are you just throwing up your hands and saying, “That’s not me. I can’t do it.” You would not be alone. But you would also not be more wrong. Try. Start small and try. Leave your phone in the car when you come home. Play LEGOs for the next hour, with no interruptions. Write the rest of the afternoon off. Put as much work into this parenting thing as you do with your work. Try to be all-in, just for a bit.See what happens.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

General Jim Mattis has talked about his idyllic childhood in Pullman, Washington. There he spent time outdoors, explored, got in trouble, and had an all-American childhood. He talks lovingly of a house filled with books—as we’ve said, a house without books is not a home—and parents who not only encouraged their children to read them, but questioned and interacted with them. “They introduced us to a world of great ideas—not a fearful place,” he said, “but a place to enjoy.” What a thing to say! A target for each of us to try to hit with our own children. It’s so easy in these partisan, political times to live not only in a bubble of our own beliefs...but to actively denigrate the beliefs of others. Think of the families hunkered down, watching Fox News, refusing to interact with any information that contradicts their worldview. Think of the parents who are no better than book burners, arguing that Huckleberry Finn should be pulled from schools or that trigger warnings need to be put in front of everything remotely controversial. These people are teaching their children that ideas are dangerous, that disagreement is an offense and that you can make things go away by pretending they don’t exist. You must teach your kids to be curious, to be open, to be willing to explore. Your job is not to make them believe what you believe or to prevent them from ever encountering what you dislike or think is repulsive. Your job is to teach them how to make their own informed opinions, how to decide for themselves, how to be comfortable with uncomfortable topics. Don’t model contempt. Don’t model close-mindedness. Don’t model fear. Ideas are our friends. They will serve your children well, and your children will serve them well, if you teach them early and often. The world is a place of great ideas. There is nothing to be afraid of...except fear and ignorance. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Nobody wants to see their kid make a mistake. That’s why we spend so much time teaching them right and wrong, why we try to be a good example, why we try to catch and stop them when we see them going down the wrong path. Since the beginning of time fathers have been doing this...and since the beginning of time have had, at best, only minimal success. In the novel Siddhartha, the title character tries desperately to convince his son of the importance of the simple way of life, having learned the wisdom of it through painful experience. Like you, like all fathers, he watches as his son ignores his warnings, despairing as his son goes the wrong direction. As he sees his son falling into bad habits, Siddhartha confides his frustration to his friend, Vasudeva, who replies, “Do you really believe you have committed your follies so that your son may be spared them?” It would be wonderful if our kids didn’t have to learn through trial and error, if they could simply accept our advice and start where we left off, rather than touch the proverbial hot stove for themselves. But we should be wise enough as human beings by now to know that is simply not how life works. Much of what we learn has to be learned on our own. Some mistakes have to be made to be fully understood. Don’t your own experiences teach you that, anyway? How many of your parents’ warnings did you really listen to?You can’t prevent your kids from making mistakes. Nor, honestly, should you really want to. You have to let them learn on their own. And you have to give them the space to do it. Knowing that you’ve instilled the character, the awareness, and the willingness to ask for help that they will need in order to bounce back from the mistakes they will inevitably make. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Do you know the story of the 300 Spartans? Maybe you do. It was first immortalized by Herodotus, and then has been passed down through the ages from Simonides to Plutarch. Most recently, it was the basis for the awesome Zack Snyder movie by the same name, and Steven Pressfield’s beautiful novel, Gates of Fire. If you don’t know the story, here’s what happens: the Ancient Greek King Leonidas led some 7,000 men, 300 of which were Spartans, in a battle against an invading army of more than 300,000 soldiers led by Xerxes the Great, king of the Achaemenid dynasty of Persia. The Spartans held the front line for two days, but on the third, they were outmaneuvered. Leonidas ordered the 300 Spartans to remain and fight, sacrificing himself and his men to allow Greece to live and fight another day. There is a part left out in most retellings though, that is worth thinking about today. How did Leonidas choose the 300 warriors to lead out to the Hot Gates to battle an overwhelming enemy? Obviously he picked his best and bravest warriors. But there was something else they all had in common. They were all “fathers of living sons.” You might think this was exactly what leaders would have tried to avoid—that the ones with families were allowed to sit out this potential suicide mission—but that’s now how it worked in Sparta. Fathers were chosen because fathers would not want to let their sons down. These fathers would fight most bravely, most fiercely, not only to protect what they had back at home, but also because they would not dare abandon their comrades or behave cowardly for fear of letting down the family that so looked up to them. How far we have gotten from this! You have parents bribing their kids into college. You have dads looting the companies they work for to pay for that ski house in Aspen. You have people willing to do anything to get famous—from sex tapes to reality television—even if it means humiliating their kids forever. C’mon. Remember: A little fellow follows you. Your kids are always watching. They’re the ones you should want to impress. They’re the ones you should never want to let down. They’re the ones you’re not only fighting for, but whose standards—whose natural admiration and love—you should always be fighting to live up to. They are the only ones whose opinions matter. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

This is just my personality, we say. I just don’t have any energy when I get home from work, we complain. I’m in a bad mood today, that’s all. My parents weren’t any different, and I turned out ok. It’s just a stressful period right now. They’re young, they won’t remember any of this. All lies. All excuses. All holding the potential to cause terrible painIn his beautiful and vulnerable memoir, Bruce Springsteen talks—years later—about how his father’s mood and issues affected him. “As a boy I just figured it was the way men were, distant, uncommunicative, busy within the currents of the grown-up world,” he said. “As a child you don’t question your parents’ choices. You accept them. They are justified by the godlike status of parenthood. If you aren’t spoken to, you’re not worth the time. If you’re not greeted with love and affection, you haven’t earned it. If you’re ignored, you don’t exist.” It breaks your heart. And each of us is doing some version of that to our own kids right now. Our moods and choices and the examples we set are affecting them always, changing how they see the world and how they see themselves. It’s making them feel better or worse, worthwhile or worthless, safe or vulnerable. A little fellow follows you, remember that. The decision to shut down emotionally doesn’t just impact you. The decision to overcommit. The decision to be gone. The decision to hold onto resentments. The decision not to take care of yourself. The decision to hold them to unfair standards, to belittle or to be mean.All of this matters. It matters more than anything.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Douglas MacArthur was a complicated man. He was ambitious. He was vain. He made many mistakes. It’s very unlikely that he was a perfect father. In fact, it’d be incredible if he had been, given his demanding, seemingly perfect father (a Civil War hero) and controlling, overly involved mother (who was actively involved in her son’s career up until her death in 1935). But it is surprising that, given all that, Douglas MacArthur seemed relatively accepting of his quiet, sensitive boy. It was undoubtedly MacArthur’s dream to see his son graduate from West Point and enter the service. That was never going to happen. So MacArthur had to adjust, like all fathers he had to accept “undeniable reality,”—something that could not have been easy for a man used to getting his way on a global scale. This was a learning experience for MacArthur as it will be for all of us. It forced him to think about measuring life on different terms, certainly terms different than his own parents had thought about. We get a sense of this from a “prayer” he wrote one evening for his only child, his son, Arthur:“Build me a son, O Lord, who will be strong enough to know when he is weak, and brave enough to face himself when he is afraid; one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat, and humble and gentle in victory.Build me a son whose wishes will not take the place of deeds; a son who will know Thee — and that to know himself is the foundation stone of knowledge.Lead him, I pray, not in the path of ease and comfort, but under the stress and spur of difficulties and challenge. Here let him learn to stand up in the storm; here let him learn compassion for those who fail.Build me a son whose heart will be clear, whose goal will be high; a son who will master himself before he seeks to master other men; one who will reach into the future, yet never forget the past.And after all these things are his, add, I pray, enough of a sense of humor, so that he may always be serious, yet never take himself too seriously. Give him humility, so that he may always remember the simplicity of true greatness, the open mind of true wisdom, and the weakness of true strength. Then I, his father, will dare to whisper, ‘I have not lived in vain.’”Not bad! And did you notice something about it? It doesn’t say anything about careers or success or reputation. It’s all about character—the only thing that really matters. It’s also the only thing we should actually want for our kids, and something we should work our asses off to provide. The rest is up to them.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

What schools are your kids attending? No, not what college or prep school. This is more of a “school of life” question. Charis Denison, a relationship development and organizational specialist who works with a lot of young people, recently observed “At one time or another, every young man will get a letter of admission to ‘dick school.’ The question is, will he drop out, graduate, or go for an advanced degree?”She happened to be speaking about some of the more toxic elements in cultural masculinity, but the truth of that quote applies to both sexes and pretty much every gender stereotype. It can just as easily be said that every young woman is presented with a letter of admission to an equal number of problematic schools. It’s like every boy and girl, some time around middle school and high school, will get recruiting letters from...-The school of being entitled and spoiled-The school of cheating to get ahead-The school of not caring about anyone but yourself-The school of materialism-The school of anxiety and worry-The school of getting high and killing time-The school of being an asshole or a liar or an insufferable egomaniacUnlike college—which is so expensive they’ll need your help to pay for it—parents have less say over the decision to attend any of these schools. Instead, all you can do is try to direct them, try to show them examples of the costs of going one way or another. Your job is to help educate them so they can make the right choice about their education. So they decide to drop out rather than graduate, or better yet, not even consider being recruited by any of these toxic schools. And, as always, lead by example, show them proudly which degree is (and isn’t) on your wall. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

In 1982-83, Jim Valvano coached the North Carolina State basketball team to a National Championship title. The Wolfpack was a mid-ranked team that entered the NCAA tournament looking like anything but a title contender. It was improbable that they’d win their first two games, and even if they did, no one in the world would have put even a dollar on them upsetting #2 ranked Virginia. No one, except Coach Valvano. He believed he and his guys could do it. Even when his guys didn’t. The rather unassuming Valvano was known for that unshakeable—borderline irrational even—belief in himself and in his teams. In his coaching career. In his battle with cancer. In every aspect of life, he lived by a quote he heard when he was a young boy, “Every single day, in every walk of life, ordinary people accomplish extraordinary things!” Valvano was, himself, an ordinary kid with ordinary parents from an ordinary town where he received an ordinary education. Still, he did extraordinary things in his life. Valvano wasn’t yet out of high school when he first told his dad he had decided what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. He was going to be a collegiate basketball coach, he told him. With that high schooler’s naivete, he said, “Dad, I’m going to win a National Championship.” Think about how your parents would have reacted if you’d told them that. Maybe you can feel—in your heart, if you’re being honest—how you’d react if you heard your own kids say that. Well, that’s a really hard thing to do bud. Are you sure? Maybe have a backup plan. That wasn’t how Mr. Valvano was built. A few days after Jim told his dad about his plans for the future, his dad called him into his bedroom. “See that suitcase?” he asked, pointing to a suitcase in the corner of the room. Confused, Jim replied, “Yeah, what’s that all about?” “I’m packed,” his dad explained. “When you play and win that National Championship I’m going to be there, my bags are already packed.” “My father,” Jim would later say in his legendary ESPY speech, “gave me the greatest gift anyone could give another person, he believed in me.” Stricken with the cancer that would soon after take his life, that belief drove Valvano’s Wolfpack to the national championship in 1983 and it gave him the strength to give that very speech.We talked recently about not being a minimizer, about how important instilling the growth mindset in our kids is. Our job is to spur our children to conceive of big dreams, to encourage them to go after them, to give them the greatest gift anyone can give another person: belief. If you don’t believe in them, who will? And if they are, in fact, lucky enough to find someone else who believes in them, think about what it will do to your relationship when they are able to compare, when they are able to say, “This total stranger saw my potential, but the people who birthed me and raised me and claimed to love me, just could not.”You have to give them your belief. You have to be ready to root for them. It’s the greatest gift you can give. It’s the one they, whether they tell you or not, want more than anything.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Ernest Hemingway was not a great husband or, as often as he should have been, a great father. He had four wives, at least one affair, and was often absent in his family’s life, preferring to spend his time when not writing on big-game hunting, deep sea fishing, bullfighting, and so on. But he was a great writer and a great observer of the human condition. There are few scenes in literature that capture love and loss and the terrifying but also inspiring moment of becoming a father quite like the end of A Farewell to Arms. And nothing quite captures love like this quote from it:“When you love, you wish to do things for. You wish to sacrifice for. You wish to serve.”Isn’t that what we’re doing here as dads? We’re asking that question Tom Hanks expressed almost as beautifully as Hemingway:“What do you need me to do? You offer up that to them. I will do anything I can possibly do in order to keep you safe. That’s it. Offer that up and then just love them.”So think about that today. Remind yourself what love is, what your job is. You’re here to serve. Whether that’s driving them around, or just listening to them talk. Your job is to sacrifice. To give what you didn’t get. Offer that up. Offer it always. Even if they’re not ready to take it. Even if they don’t understand. Even if you’re not as good at it as you’d like to be. Just keep trying. Keep serving. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

In early January, Kobe Bryant got a note from a reporter at ESPN. She was working on a story about a moment in Lakers’ history and she wanted to feature Kobe in the story. It’s one of those requests that public figures get all the time. It’s part of their job—in fact, it’s kind of one of the things that attracted them to the job in the first place. To be in the news, to have people want to hear their opinion, to grow their brand. How long would it have taken to answer the inquiry? Fifteen minutes? An hour? A few emails back and forth? Who knows. What we do know is how Kobe responded to it, and it’s a response made heartbreakingly sad but also deeply moving considering his tragic death just a few weeks later. "Can't right now," Kobe messaged the reporter. "My girls are keeping me busy. Hit me up in a couple of weeks.How often do you have the discipline to send something like that? How strong are you at putting your family first? How good are your defenses against the endless requests, opportunities, impositions, and obligations that come with your work and with life? It’s so easy to let people steal your time, to let them take you away from the thing that is keeping you busy: your kids. Your family. Your private space. Kobe Bryant, tragically, will not get any more time with his kids and they will not get any more time with him. Which is what makes that text he sent such a powerful reminder to us, a final feat of performance left there to inspire those of us continuing in the shadow of his death. Put your family first. Put your kids first. Say that you’re too busy. Say no.Politely decline. You have other priorities. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

There is a type of parent out there. Career-wise, they are killing it. They have a good marriage to an income-earning spouse and together they make good money. They live in a great neighborhood in an awesome house. They have good educations. They have smart kids. They go on nice vacations. And yet, they are constantly worried. Worried about money. About whether their kids will get into the right school and get the right jobs. About their taxes. About keeping up with the Joneses. About so many things. Everything looks great on the outside—and by any objective measure, it is actually great—but they are somehow still angry or anxious on the inside. Sure, there is a lot wrong in the world, and you never know when it could all go away (natural disaster, medical emergency, legal troubles, etc), but at the same time you’d think with how hard they work and all the things that have gone right, that life would at least feel a little easier. That they’d be comfortable. Maybe even...haNot so much. Instead, these parents respond to their inner turmoil by trying to exert even greater control over their external environment. Does this dissonance sound familiar? Maybe because you know these people. Perhaps there is a part of you that is these people. But do you know the term that sociologists and political observers have created for them? It’s not a particularly nice one: They’re called dream hoarders.Dream hoarders are the people who, in an attempt to soothe their own anxieties by securing their station in life and smoothing the path for their children, do things to control the world around them that have the effect of limiting opportunity and mobility for those “beneath them.” Dream hoarders are the NIMBYs (Not In My Back Yard) who oppose the creation of more housing (because it would ruin the character of their neighborhood). They oppose school vouchers and magnet schools from the comfort and safety of their children’s private schools. They favor legacy admissions standards to colleges over any kind of assistive programs that give the poor and underprivileged a boost. These are the people who complain about taxes directed at funding initiatives to help the greater good...despite being in the 1% or better. These people are immune from most of the real crises that are ravaging their country and the world, and instead turn their own piddly problems into World War III at school board and city planning meetings all across America. They have gotten what’s theirs, and their anxiety about being able to keep it forever has blinded them to the reality that so many others are barely getting by. Look, it would be ridiculous to criticize anyone for wanting to pass only advantages and privileges to your kids. That is, of course, the entire point of evolution. That’s why you have worked as hard as you have to get ahead, to build up the life you want. But we have to remember that our kids aren’t going to live in a bubble. They are going to have to make their way in the world—a world that the dream hoarders are increasingly turning into a battlefield of Rich vs. Poor, Us vs. Them. If we want our kids to enjoy the bounty we have worked so hard to give them, if we want them to take advantage of those opportunities in ways that make us proud and make them proud of themselves, then we can’t just think about our kids anymore. We have to think about “the children”—as in the neighborhood’s and the city’s and the country’s young people. We can’t hoard from them. We have to share. See Privacy Policy at See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

If you ever hear yourself uttering these words, “How could you have been so stupid?” to your kids—because they just got escorted home by a police officer, because they lost that expensive iPad you gave them, because whatever...Here’s an answer: The same way you were so stupid when you were their age.Think about all the dumb stuff you did when you were 10. Or 15. Or 30. Or yesterday. How could you have been so stupid? Skateboarding without a helmet and getting injured when you fell. Speeding when you just got your license and ending up with a ticket. Not studying for that big exam and failing. Drinking too much and getting a nasty hangover. The truth was you didn’t really know better, even if you did “know” better, even if people had told you, as you were doing it, not to do it. The only reason you’re able to see now, in retrospect, how dumb you were is because you’ve gotten older. Because you’ve experienced things. Because you experienced doing that dumb thing and now realize how dangerous/unnecessary/ill-advised it actually was. So let’s scratch that phrase, that question, along with “How many times do I have to tell you?” from our vocabulary as fathers. Because it is really stupid—and cruel. Focus instead on using this moment, whatever it is that makes you want to say that, as an opportunity to teach. As an opportunity to make them smarter, rather than a chance to make them feel bad. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Dr. Edith Enger’s son was born with athetoid cerebral palsy. A diagnosis like this would be scary whenever one gets it, but getting it decades ago was scarier still. Dr. Enger (then not a doctor) and her immigrant husband, who had both survived the Holocaust, were frustrated and confused and overwhelmed. One day, at a visit to the doctor’s office, Edith Enger expressed some of these fears and worries to the specialist. It was there that she got some advice that is worth sharing for every parent, whether their family ever has to face that kind of adversity or not. “You son will be whatever you make of him,” the doctor explained. “John’s going to do everything everyone else does, but it’s going to take him longer to get there. You can push him too hard, and that will backfire, but it will also be a mistake not to push him hard enough. You need to push him to the level of his potential.” Your kids will be whatever you make them. It’s true of parenting and it’s true of life. Edith Enger is living proof of that (everyone should read her book, The Choice). She survived the death camps. She survived communism. She survived coming to America with nothing. She decided she would make something of those experiences. She refused to accept that her son was forever compromised, believed that he would thrive if she—and he—believed he could.No one is saying that things won’t be hard. No one is saying that any of this is fair—dyslexia or disabilities, being a refugee or losing your job, being a genius or being short, divorce or having to change schools. What matters is what we make of it. What matters is who we push them (and ourselves) to be. What matters is the kindness and the love and the patience we accompany that pushing with. We can’t do everything for them—that would only make them helpless anyway—but we can believe in them and help them believe in themselves. We can help them reach the level of their potential. We can make them be what they are capable of. We have to. That’s our job.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Your kids should be grateful. Not to you and mom, of course, you’re just doing your job. You’re legally and biologically obligated. Your kids should be grateful for everything. We all should be. This is a wonderful time to be alive. Even if it wasn’t—it’s amazing that any of us are alive at all. The odds are astronomically small that we are. So it’s important that you teach your kids about gratitude. Because it’s so easy to take life, to take the gifts we have been given, for granted. Especially when we’re stressed, when you’re a kid with homework or acne or a room to clean. Jason Harris, the CEO of Mekanism—an award-winning ad agency—and the author of The Soulful Art of Persuasion, has an interesting practice for how to persuade your kids to have a more grateful outlook about life. As he writes:As I tell our boys, you’ve got to be great—but you’ve also got to be grateful. Every Sunday night we write down in our book three things for which we are individually grateful. I know this is not an earth-shattering idea. And I’m not the kind of guy who loves shouting out my “intentions” in a yoga class. But this practice has made a world of difference for me and my kids. It resets you and gets you prepped for the week ahead. The things they write down can be big-ticket items like a place to live, or just the fact that they are alive and kicking. But they can also be little things, like something good that happened at school or a play in a game. What’s helpful about writing these reflections in a notebook is that you can consult previous entries and jog your memory on truly trying days. It helps them go back and tap into those feelings when they may seem lost and hopeless.My boys like the routine and look forward to it each week. This is an exercise that takes less than ten minutes, and yet the effects can be dramatic. Keeping thoughts of gratitude on the surface of your mental life can help you realize that whatever might be going wrong today, on balance we all have a ton to be positive about.Beautiful. And how much more beautiful would the world be if more of us took up this practice? And practiced it with our kids?See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

When we think teacher, we think classroom. When we think leader, we think the corner office or the lectern or a general in front of their troops. But the truth is that a teacher can do their job anywhere and in many forms, just as a leader can. Plutarch would say of Socrates that he “did not set up desks for his students, sit in a teacher’s chair, or reserve a prearranged time for lecturing and walking with his pupils. No, he practiced philosophy while joking around (when the chance arose) and drinking and serving on military campaigns and hanging around the marketplace with some of his students, and finally, even while under arrest and drinking the hemlock. He was the first to demonstrate that our lives are open to philosophy at all times and in every aspect, while experiencing every emotion, and in each and every activity.” As with teaching and with leadership and with philosophy, so too with parenting. You can be a dad anywhere. It’s not just on fishing trips or at family dinners. It’s not just about carrying them around in a baby bjorn or going to back-to-school night. It’s not about punishments or incentives, or rules or life lessons, though of course it’s also about all these things too. Remember what we’ve talked about with quality time vs. garbage time? It may just be that the most impact you’ll have as a dad will come while joking around, it may come on a walk, it may come with how you do your job (and show them your work), it may come on a family vacation or it may come while you’re watching TV and make some passing comment that lands in exactly the right way. It may come—god forbid—on your deathbed, as you depart from this life with courage and compassion, showing them that they don’t need to be afraid, that you love them and that they’ll be okay without you.Being a Dad is not some official thing. It’s not sitting on high, doling out pronouncements and demanding obedience. It’s something you do anywhere and everywhere, every minute of every day in the same way that Socrates taught—by example, by getting down to their level, by being open, and by adapting to the situation at hand.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

There is so much to do. Your kids have to be dressed. They have to eat. They have go to school. They have to do well in school. They’ll need jobs. They’ll need to figure out finding a home, finding a spouse, navigating the difficulties of the world. There is so much to do...and they are so bad at all of it. So where does a parent draw the line? How do you know where to help, what to handle for them, what to tell them doesn’t matter and they don’t have to worry about?Of course, there are no rules. No one can give you a perfect list: Pay for their college, but not their car. Cook them food but don’t do their homework for them. Clean the kitchen but not their room.So maybe instead we should look for a good principle to follow instead. Perhaps this one from Plutarch would work: "A leader should do anything,” he said, “but not everything." Our job is to help our kids but not make them helpless. We want to teach them how to do things, not necessarily do them for them. That means encouraging them to make their own decisions, that means modeling the right behavior, that means showing them that the only person to blame in life is ourselves (and no one else). A great leader is never above rolling up their sleeves. Like a great dad, they’ll do anything for their family or their organization. But they also know they can’t do everything. It’s not good for them or for anyone else.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Way too many parents are competitive. They see the car their neighbor is driving and they want to get a better one. They hear that a friend’s kid got into a fancy school and they think, “My kid is smarter. I’ve got to get them in there too.” We want to make more money than other parents, we want our kids to beat other kids in sports, we want our kids to be cuter than other kids, we want our houses to be cleaner. Needless to say, this is mostly toxic and negative. But that competitive urge is hard to get rid of. So where should we channel it? We've told you about Jeannie Gaffigan before, whose haunting story of a surprise pear-sized tumor changed her and her family’s life. She found a good outlet. She explained that during her recuperation from the surgery her husband brought out a new side of himself and created a healthy, positive dynamic in their relationship: I noticed that like Jim started learning all about the day to day stuff. Out of necessity, but I feel like in my recovery, he has a whole different level of appreciation for me. And also he'd do things like my son Jack was going to like all these bar mitzvahs every weekend because everyone was turning 13. And I'm bad at tying ties, but I would do it because he wasn't home. And then he would be like, when he does something better than me, he brags about it. He's like, ‘who ties the better tie?’ So there was a lot of this kind of fun competition of who made eggs better. And it was a different level of our relationship because before he was not doing that stuff.Don’t compete with other dads, or other families. Compete with your spouse. Compete with their mother. Who can use their phone less? Who can get them down to bed fastest? Who can convince the kids to do that thing they hate doing with the least amount of arguing? Who can pick up the most slack? Who can get up earliest and start breakfast? Who can complain the least?You’ll both be better and happier for it. Your kids might not notice...but they’ll be happier and better for it too.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

A few weeks ago, there was a fascinating piece about the controversial NFL receiver Antonio Brown. Of course, anything about Antonio Brown is fascinating—his behavior in the last several months has cost him something like $40M in guaranteed money and taken the best wide receiver in the game out of the game, possibly forever. But what’s worth taking note of in this piece, for any dad or stepdad, are two seemingly inconsequential remarks by Larry Moss, Brown’s stepfather. Brown and his brothers, Desmond and Eddie, would often try to intervene in arguments between their mom, Adrianne Moss, and Larry—arguments Larry attributes to trying to parent Antonio.Larry Moss, Brown's stepfather, says Brown started staying out late and sneaking off with cars around the age of 14, with a "no respect" attitude that contributed to his leaving the Miami Gardens home. As Larry remembers it, he and Brown's mother even lived in separate homes at times because of friction between him and Brown.Imagine that. 17 years later this guy is still pointing the finger at a child for the troubles in his marriage. And he’s so shameless about it, he’s willing to put it on the record to ESPN. This is not what dads do—even if they do have difficult children, even if they are stressed and overwhelmed by being a father or stepfather. We have to follow Marcus Aurelius’ advice always: “Blame yourself or no one.” Your spouse is not the problem. Your job is not the problem. The economy is not why you’re stressed. It’s not the weather. The fact that the house is a mess is not your kid’s fault. The fact that their grades are slipping is not their fault. That’s not why your marriage is struggling. You’re the problem. Your systems are the problem. Your parenting is the problem. Focus on that. It’s the only thing you control. It’s your job to take the blame. It’s your job to help fix it. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The writer Thomas Sowell once noted, sardonically, how sad it is that editions of Frederick Douglass’s memoirs, when provided for high school students, were forced to provide annotated definitions of many words. What does it say, he asked, that a slave in the 1800s was able—under the penalty of severe violence—to teach himself a vocabulary that privileged high school students cannot manage after a hundred and fifty years of progress? And what does it say that we have to spoon feed them the answers to these vexing problems—how could they possibly look up a word without our help!—instead of expecting them to figure it out themselves?We have talked before about why it’s important not to baby your kids when it comes to reading. We have also talked about teaching them that “everything is figureoutable”—that is, giving them the skills to learn what they don’t know. But it’s also important that, as a father, you provide the expectation that they are capable of doing things. If you treat your kid like a helpless idiot...they’ll stay one. If you assume that certain ideas are beyond their comprehension, it is a self-fulfilling prophecy. Your kids will not learn that which you expect them not to be able to learn. Equally, they will grow and strive and struggle to meet the expectations you do have. If Frederick Douglass could do it, your kid can definitely do it. He had to fear for his life. He had not only to steal time to read, he had to steal books and newspapers too. Your children have far more advantages. So expect, encourage, inspire them to seize this. Expect great things from them, expect progress, but most of all, expect them to try.They’ll be better for it. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

In 2009, after winning two National Championships as the head coach of the Florida Gators football team, Urban Meyer stunned the nation by announcing his retirement. The self-admitted workaholic, Meyer made the decision to step down due to a health scare. He woke up in the middle of the night with severe chest pains, lost consciousness, and was rushed to a hospital in an ambulance. He said that when his 18-year-old daughter, Nicki, found out her father would be leaving his job in Florida, she hugged him and said, “I get my daddy back.” She didn’t care about National Championships. She didn’t care about multi-million dollar salaries. She didn’t care about how many people admired her father. She cared that all those things meant her father was never around. So she drafted a contract he had to sign before he ever agreed to another coaching position. What were the terms?1. My family will always come first.2. I will take care of myself and maintain good health.3. I will go on a trip once a year with Nicki (at minimum).4. I will not go more than nine hours a day at the office.5. I will sleep with my cell phone on silent.6. I will continue to communicate daily with my kids.7. I will trust God's plan and not be overanxious.8. I will keep the lakehouse.9. I will find a way to watch Nicki and Gigi play volleyball.10. I will eat three meals a day.It’s a beautiful sentiment, reminiscent of something we talked about recently: King Leonidas choosing 300 Spartan fathers because he knew fathers do whatever they have to do to not let their children down. Would that be the case for Meyer? He returned to football in 2011, taking the head coaching job at Ohio State. In 2015, a caller on a radio show asked Meyer if he still honored Nicki’s contract. He laughed, saying "I tore that thing up a long time ago...It was all for show." Yikes. In 2019, he retired from Ohio State...due to the "long-term risks" associated with a health issue. It was also done in the shadow of mishandling domestic abuse allegations against his former receivers coach.Just because Urban Meyer fell short doesn’t mean the contract was a bad idea, it doesn’t mean we have fall short ourselves. What would a contract with your kids look like? What terms do you need to agree to to have a happier, healthier life? To protect you from your own drive and workaholism? To make sure your family is always firstSign it and stick to it.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

It’s a story as old as fatherhood itself. The son or daughter kills themselves to win the approval of their dad, which never seems to come. There is pain, resentment, bewilderment. I have worked so hard to make you proud, am I just not enough? Only at the end, or after the parent’s death, is it revealed: The child had the thing they wanted all along. They just never knew.This was Claudia Williams’, the daughter of Ted Williams, story. Only buried in a pile of memorabilia did she find a note left by her impossible-to-please father. “To my beautiful daughter,” it said, “I love you. Dad.’” In a recent obituary of the brilliant publisher Sonny Mehta, Roger Cohen writes:“When Mehta’s father, a diplomat, died in Vienna, Mehta found in his desk a folder with every article ever published about him. The pride of his father, who had never complimented his son, was evident.”It breaks your heart. Why couldn’t they have expressed some of this when they were alive? Was it a generational thing? Did they think it was helping to make their kids better, tougher? We wonder this about our own parents sometimes: Did they lack the words, did they just not know any better? Why couldn’t they have been more like Jim Valvano’s father and given us the gift of being a fan?In the end, these questions don’t get answered. We’ll never know. What we do know, what does matter, is what we do with our kids right now. We have been given a second chance. We have been given our own opportunity. We can’t wait to be proud. We can’t keep our feelings for them hidden under piles of paper or in a drawer in our desk. We have to tell them now. We have to show them now.That we’re rooting for them. That we love them. That we believe in them. That we’re proud of them. Because we are. And they deserve to know it—before it’s too late. Before it’s just some bittersweet memory of a connection that should have been there...but for mysterious reasons, never was made.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

When our kids mess up we say: Aren’t you a little old for that? And we have all sorts of rules of thumb for what things are age appropriate or not—what age they should stop having accidents, what age they should stop throwing a tantrum just because they’re tired, what age it stops being okay for other people to have to pick up after them. You’re too old to act this way. It’s time to grow up.But, unfortunately, we apply this standard to ourselves less often. Whether it’s as serious as an affair or as silly as getting hangry because you neglected to eat, we seem to forget that we should be policing ourselves first. Our kids are at least still kids, even when they’re acting a bit beneath their age. You’re an adult. What excuse do you have?“We ought not willingly add to old age, which has many of its own problems, the shame of misbehaviors.” That’s Cato the Elder, who seems to have really lived up to that second part of his name. Remind yourself today and every day that you are getting older, that it’s time to grow out of these silly habits you’ve allowed yourself to fall into. Remind yourself that you’re too old to act out, to stoop this low, to not be responsible for yourself. It doesn’t matter if other people are willing to let you get away with it—because you’re a success in your field, because you have a patient spouse, because you’re in private—what matters is that you shouldn’t let yourself get away with it. You’re too old to act out. And even if you weren’t, remember your kids are always watching—a little fellow follows you—so act like the adult that they believe you are.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Pretty much every parent wants to raise kids who turn out to be good people. Almost no father thinks: I’d love for my son to be rich, but awful. Or I’d love for my daughter to be famous, but vapid and cruel. It’s a given. And yet, when you look at most of what we do and say as parents, especially as our kids get older, it’s clear that what we’re actually encouraging and incentivizing is for our kids to be successful. We want to hear how they did on their math test and whether they came in first running laps in PE. We want to know what college they want to go to, and how their extracurriculars are going. We nudge them toward a field of work that’s lucrative, that’s exciting, that will mean they won’t have to worry about money. The problem is that none of this has anything to do with what deep down we actually know we want—that we want them to be good and kind and wonderful to be around. So, clearly, it’s time to rethink some things. As Adam Grant and his wife, Allison Sweet Grant, wrote in a wonderful piece for The Atlantic, maybe the key is to stop trying to raise successful kids. Maybe the key is to change what you give attention to at home and in conversation. Instead, you need to actively discuss and reward thinking about the values that have to do with character. As they write: “To demonstrate that caring is a core value, we realized that we needed to give it comparable attention. We started by changing our questions. At our family dinners, we now ask our children what they did to help others. At first, ‘I forget’ was the default reply. But after a while, they started giving more thoughtful answers. ‘I shared my snack with a friend who didn’t have one,’ for example, or ‘I helped a classmate understand a question she got wrong on a quiz.’ They had begun actively looking for opportunities to be helpful, and acting upon them.”Brilliant. And practical and actionable. It’s worth every father building into their breakfast and dinner conversations and time driving in the car. Don’t ask them about the things that don’t matter in the big scheme of things, don’t teach them that they can impress you with accomplishments alone. Show them that excellence is what matters—moral excellence. That being a good person is not just what you pay lip service to, but what you are always thinking about. So they will too. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

One of the things Napoleon advised his generals against was “forming a picture” of the battle. What he meant was that your preconceived notions, your predictions, were a dangerous liability in something as fluid and fast-paced as a battle. As it happens, this is good advice for fathers as well. It’s easy to go into it thinking that you know. Because you’ve read the books. Because you’re on your third kid now and have it handled. Because you and your spouse have a plan for how to do it all right. And then guess what? Unavoidable reality quickly humbles anyone with this kind of certainty. Many dads go into fatherhood with strong ideas of how differently they’re going to do things than their own parents. They were upset or hurt or never understood why their dad was the way he was. And what do they soon find out from firsthand experience? That, in a lot of cases, there was actually a logic to it. That dad wasn’t as big of a jerk as he seemed to you, a little kid. That it was more a timeless function of the job than any decision they were consciously making. When we talked to James Frey a while back about what he’d learned about fatherhood, his answer was along similar lines. He described being a father as an “ongoing process of learning and adjusting and adapting.” Every situation, every kid, was different, he said. In other words, you can’t form a picture. Not of fatherhood. Not of your family. Not of each of your kids. You don’t know how it’s going to go. You don’t even have much of a vote in a lot of it. Which is why we have to be willing to adjust. To be flexible. To always be ready to learn and to change.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Rules and regulations are important. A child needs to learn what behaviors are acceptable and which ones are not. They need structure and guidance. They need to learn about responsibility and accountability; about how actions have consequences; about respecting authority. Sensible, hardset rules can help with a lot of those things. But arbitrary rules that we make up simply for our own convenience, those are something we should step back from and think hard about. You know the kind we’re talking about. The ones produced in the moment, on the spot, as a response to that one-word question our children learn early and that has a special way of driving us nuts: Why? Because I said so! Because I don’t want to do that.For a long time, one of the arbitrary rules in Jeannie Gaffigan’s house had to do with slime. Maybe your kids are too old to care about slime, but it’s not difficult to relate Jeannie’s dilemma. Sure, the kids are having fun, but it’s a pain in the ass to clean up, and who do you think is going to be the one left with the scrubber and the paper towels in their hands? Recently, though, Jeannie Gaffigan had a change of heart about her rules—particularly after a battle with a benign but very life threatening brain tumor. She recently talked about it and her brush with death on Marc Maron’s podcast:“My nine year old just turned 10. She is into making slime. You know, this is a big thing, right? It's this whole little science thing. So my daughter is really into this slime thing and I had a list of rules and regulations for slime in the house and how to deal with it because I was finding it in places that are like—AH! But after the surgery, I realized that I never asked, 'can you teach me how to make the slime?' I never engaged with the slime. I engaged with the control of the slime.”We don’t want to deal with the mess. So we come up with a rule. We’re too tired when we get home from work. Rule. We just got that carpet and it was expensive. Rule. We’re adults, this is silly. Rule. Our kids could be making better use of their time. Rule. We just don’t have the patience right now. Rule. What we seem to have less rules about are with ourselves. Why not a rule about being interested? Why not a rule about playing and having fun together? Why not a rule about encouraging their fascinations rather than curtailing them? Those are the important rules because they will bring you and your kids closer together. They will help you relax. And, of course, as Jeannie explained, you can still limit where the slime is used in your house. ”There's still rules,” she said somewhat obviously. Because like in any healthy household, there has to be. But make the shared experience--make the fun together--come first. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

It’s interesting to think about the steady decline in expectations for our kids when it comes to reading. Sure, we want them to be able to read earlier than ever, but what about what they read? Not long ago, kids were taught Latin and Greek so they could read the classics...in their original languages. Think of Aesop’s Fables. Think of children being read Plutarch’s Lives by their parents. This is heavy stuff. And purposefully so. Because when you read old school books, what you’re really doing is acquainting yourself with the obscure yet illustrative figures from the ancient world while also displaying a willingness to wrestle with timeless and morally complex topics. There is a quote from George Orwell, which dates to the early 20th century, that illustrates how much things have changed. “Modern books for children are rather horrible things,” he said, “especially when you see them in the mass. Personally I would sooner give a child a copy of Petronius Arbiter than Peter Pan, but even Barrie seems manly and wholesome compared with some of his later imitators.”How many adults even know who Petronius is? (He was a writer who lived in the court of Nero). And how many adults today probably winced at the idea that a book should teach kids how to be manly? Even the idea of wholesomeness is controversial! Wholesome according to whom? The white male patriarchy? The west? The Judeo-Christian tradition? This is how the discussion devolves these days. Is it any surprise then that the children and young adult sections of today’s bookstores are filled with so much infantilizing escapism, fantastical melodrama, ie just plain absurd nonsense? The curmudgeons among us want to blame millennials and Gen Z for this. Their laziness and faltering tastes are why we’re awash in this stuff. But do you really believe our kids are dumber than the kids of Orwell’s time? Or back before that? Of course not! They’re kids. We’re the problem. Parents. Adults. Educators. Publishers. As a collective, we’ve stopped believing our kids are capable of reading challenging books. So we provide them without “kids editions” and give them silly picture books, instead of helping the build their reading muscles, and then we wonder why they can’t handle heavy stuff. Well stop it. Push them. Push yourself. They aren’t babies. Or at least they shouldn’t be after they’ve learned to read for themselves.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The ancient writer—and father—Plutarch tells us of a parenting strategy he discovered in the works of Plato. “Young people must be taught from childhood,” he said, “that it is not right to wear gold on their bodies or to possess it, since they have their own personal gold intermixed into their soul, hinting (I think) at the virtue that is part of human nature and received at birth.” It’s a beautiful idea: They don’t need to wear that most precious and sought after ornament...because they are made of something much more precious. Even more beautiful is the timelessness of this observation. Plato said it over 2000 years ago...and Mr. Rogers ended every one of his programs with something very similar. "You've made this day a special day by just being you,” he would say. “There's no person in the whole world like you, and I like you just the way you are." We must, as parents, teach our children where their value really lies. It’s not in accomplishments. It’s not in what they earn or how they look. It’s not to be found in anything external at all. It’s inherent. It exists because they exist. Because there is no one on the planet with their same combination of DNA and experiences and circumstances. That’s what makes them special—what makes them rarer than any of the rarest jewels and more precious than the most precious metals. That’s why we love them. And why they should love and value themselves. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The late ESPN broadcaster—and father of two girls—Stuart Scott, was once sitting in a restaurant with some friends and their respective children. Everyone was having fun, and it was one of those delightful scenes where you see parents bonding with their kids. The kids were behaving. The dads were present. All was well.Until a mom walked by and, recognizing Scott, tried to pay him a compliment for “babysitting the kids.” She did not realize that this was an insult to Scott—and in fact to all fathers. Because dads don’t babysit. It’s impossible. Babysitting is something somebody else does for your children on your behalf. A babysitter is by definition a non-parent. These were Scott’s kids. He couldn’t babysit on his own behalf. It’d be like calling a homeowner a security guard every time you see them lock their house when they leave for work. They’re not protecting someone else’s property, they’re just being a responsible homeowner. They’re just doing their job.Scott was doing his job. He was being a dad. No more, but certainly no less. As his friend would observe after Scott’s tragic death from cancer, “We didn’t see ourselves as an occasional parental figure who might take the kids off mom’s hands for a couple hours.”See what you do as important. Because it is. You’re not a babysitter. You’re not some lesser figure in your kids’ lives. When you are with them—and when you are not with them—you’re their father. That matters. It’s an important job, one that you should take seriously and never demean (and not let others demean, either). You’re doing it because you love it, because you get something out of it, and you know what kind of impact it has. Not because you’re covering for someone else. Not because anyone can do it. They can’t. You’re the only one who can. And that’s why it’s got a special name when you do it.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Right now, you’re thinking about what all the other parents are doing. What schools they’re getting their kids into. What the best strollers are. You’re thinking about how to get them to do their homework or how to keep their rooms clean. How to manage your life and career and staying in shape. It’s overwhelming and you’re stressed.Every dad is. So maybe it’s helpful to sit back and really think about what parental success really looks like. First, of course, it’s having healthy kids who survive to adulthood—that’s obvious. But second, when you flash way forward into the future, what is it? It’s that beautiful phrase captured in The Highwomen hit—it’s having a crowded table. At Thanksgiving. On birthdays. At some summer house on the beach you all rented as a family. That is: having kids who you get to see, who you have a good relationship with, who you want to spend time with...for the rest of your days. Tiger Moms and Tiger Dads might raise Harvard grads, but will they have crowded tables? Snowplow parents might feel important for the first eighteen years of their kids’ lives, but will those kids resent them for spoiling and sheltering them? Instead of a crowded table, might their house be crowded with kids who have failed to launch? Some of the best lyrics in the Highwomen song capture the path forward for a dad who is looking forward to those crowded table days:If we want a gardenWe're gonna have to sow the seedPlant a little happinessLet the roots run deepIf it's love that we giveThen it's love that we reapIf we want a gardenWe're gonna have to sow the seedIf you want a crowded table, you’ll need to plant the seeds. You’ll need to make the decisions now so they’ll want to make the decision to fly from their homes to yours when they’re older and have families of their own. That means listening without judgment. That means being a fan and a supporter. That means loving unconditionally. That means managing your temper. You’ll need to set the table today to have the one you’ll want tomorrow.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

A couple weeks ago, we talked about the sobering exercise of trying to observe other people getting upset or losing their temper at their kids. Nothing wakes you up quite like catching a reflection of yourself in other people, especially when it comes to our anger problems. But this exercise of looking in the mirror through people-watching can be used to address other bad habits and parenting flaws as well. One such area is our anxiety. Everyone knows anxious parents. The mom who is always worried about strangers with candy or drugs in Halloween treats. The dad who turns into a totally different person at the airport, turning the already stressful experience of traveling into a nightmare of conflict and needlessly high stakes. There are the couples who are always fighting about money, even though they are hardly starving, and whose lifestyle and insecurities are in a vicious negative feedback loop. There are the couples who are stressed—a decade and a half before they need to be—about where their kids will go to college, or the ones whose political views have them convinced the world is about to end and are thus perpetually outraged and worked up.When these folks catch our attention, we should turn our gaze towards their children. What effect is this having on them? What kind of energy is all this anxiety and stress causing? Is it solving any problems? Is it contributing to anyone’s happiness? Is it the source of a lot of misery?The point here is not to judge. It’s to see ourselves in someone else. We are all anxious. We all have our own bundles of worry and fear. And these things turn us into a type of person we do not want to be, and someone whom our children do not deserve. Anxiety doesn’t solve problems—it compounds them. It ratchets up the tension. Not just on you, but the impressionable and innocent people who have no choice but to live under your roof. It’s hard to watch other people behave this way, which is why we are usually in denial about behaving that way ourselves. You have to catch yourself. You have to work on yourself before you become the thing you cannot stand to look at.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

We’ve talked before about David Epstein’s wonderful book Range, which advises against premature specialization—in athletes, in kids, in intellectual development. It tends to be better, he writes, to pursue a wide variety of activities and build a base of competence than it is to be like Tiger Woods--or rather like Earl Woods--and dedicate yourself or your child to golf at two years old. But it’s important that the message of this book is not oversimplified. There undoubtedly must come a time, as Epstein points out, for someone like Roger Federer, where you decide to commit to something and it becomes your thing. While you don’t want to do that too early, it’s important you don’t get to it too late either. Getting serious about becoming a Navy SEAL at age 35 is an exercise in futility (another lesson Tiger Woods learned too late). Which is why it’s important that we also pass along the advice that David Brooks has for young people in The Second Mountain. “Get to yourself quickly,” he writes. “If you know what you want to do, start doing it.” It’s ironic that the rise of specialization for kids seems to have also coincided with an increasingly extended adolescence for many kids. Now everybody is told to go to college. Then encouraged to travel. Or travel and then go to college. (Gap year consulting is now a real thing.) Then move to a new city. Date around, have flings. Try a handful of different jobs. People seem to be delaying getting serious about their lives...and then they wonder why they are falling behind, why they aren’t truly great at anything, why they are 35 years old and have little to show for their year and start thinking about the Navy SEALS.So this is the delicate balance you’ll have to figure out as you guide your kids through life. Don’t take options off the table too early...but don’t put off choosing forever. It’s great to be interested in lots of things...but you should still search for a true love. Don’t overly specialize...but if you have a calling, chase it!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Ted Williams was not a good father. We’ve written about this before, but it bears restating for our purposes here that while he was the greatest hitter to ever play baseball, he was quite literally the opposite as a father, totally neglecting the responsibilities of being a dad...until eventually his hardened exterior cracked. With time, and mostly due to the persistent efforts of his children, he began to connect and share with them. He began to be the father they had wanted and needed for so long. There is one scene in Wright Thompson’s profile of Williams’ daughter that shows Ted learning one of the most basic lessons of being a great father—one that we could all use a reminder of today (and, by the way, one that will make you a better husband and boss and person too). It happened when Claudia was going through a painful breakup. For some reason, she decided she would actually open up to her father about it, that she’d actually invite this man who had rejected her so many times when she was younger into her private pain. Almost immediately it became tense, a kind of argument about what to do. “Please don’t be mad,” she pleaded with him. “Just listen to me. I am hurting.”Williams grinded his teeth and struggled with his impotence towards another person’s problem. “What the hell do you want me to do about it!” he shouted. “I can’t do a fucking thing.Then Claudia said the words that every father needs to remember: “Just tell me you love me.”Then Williams said the words that every father needs to say: “JESUS CHRIST. I love you more than you’ll ever know. Most importantly, he did what you need to do more of, when your spouse has a problem, when your kids have a problem, when they come to you with news or with worries or with mistakes. He listened. Just listen. That’s all you have to do. You don’t always have to solve their problems You don’t have to tell them what they did wrong. You don’t have to make it go away. You just have to hear them. Because as often as not, what your loved ones are really looking for is love, not lessons. They don’t want fixes, they want friendship. They want a sympathetic ear, a confederate, someone to be on their side and to say “you’re right, screw those guys!”. You don’t need to have all the answers, you just have to let them know that you hear them and you love them. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

When you read parenting books, it’s hard not to get the distinct sense that there is a right way to parent. That being a dad (or a mom) means following a set of processes—backed up and confirmed by research—and that to do anything else is to deviate and fail. We think the same thing about teachers too: Here is how the best teachers operate, so be like that. But the truth is that it’s all relative. There is no right way because every child is different, every parent is different, every situation is different. Think about the story of the prodigal son—it’s a lesson about a bunch of things, but one of the subtler lessons is that different kids require different treatment. The father in that story wasn’t being unfair. He was being what each of his sons needed. Recently, we asked the author James Frey (yes, that James Frey—the brilliant and controversial novelist; read Katerina or Bright Shiny Morning if you haven’t yet) what he’s learned about fatherhood, and he actually told us something pretty similar:Being a Dad is an ongoing process of learning and adjusting and adapting. That for each kid, at each stage of that kid's life, you have to adjust and learn. I have three kids. Two girls and a boy in the middle. Being a Dad, to me, isn't like being a drill sergeant. There is no single way to handle each child...I don't want them all to be the same person. They are each unique, with their own personalities and strengths and struggles. And they are radically different at different ages. And that requires me to constantly be learning how to best raise them.It’s great advice and worth thinking about today. You have to be flexible. You have to be willing to approach each situation as a distinct set of circumstances and conditions. There is no “right way” to do things, but there is always a “right thing” to do in each situation. Adjust until you find it. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

You’ve told them a million times. You told them why they need to study before their test, and they didn’t and they came home with a D. You told them about how their effort is the only thing they control in sports, and here they are, complaining—after refusing to take their training seriously—about why their friend gets more playing time. You’ve told them about manners. You’ve told them about not hitting their brother. You’ve told them why it’s important to keep their room clean.And yet, and yet and yet...Here you are. Looking at a dirty room. At bad grades. How many times do I have to tell you?, you hear yourself say. Are you deaf?Here’s a better question, one that might stop you cold: How many times have you been told? Not when you were a kid, but lately. About the importance of eating better. Of the relationship between exercise and weight. About how gross it is to bite your nails. To save for retirement. To read that important book. To update your operating system. And yet, and yet and yet...You’re still doing them. Or not doing them. You got a speeding ticket last month that cost you $250 and here you are still driving faster than you should. So why don’t you cut them a little break? Or at least be a little more understanding? Just because it’s clear what someone is supposed to do (or not do) doesn’t mean it’s easy. Especially when you’re a kid. Especially when your whole life is people throwing commands and demands at you. So relax. Be kind. Be patient. And maybe try to inspire them by showing them how it’s hard for you too—but you’re still trying. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Ted Williams was not a good father—at least not for most of his life. He was a great baseball player, but for a long time, he was a really selfish and ruthless person. He came from a horrible, abusive childhood himself and struggled to find the ability to love and care about anyone, including himself. It was like his own childhood prepared him to be a kind of lone wolf, a machine designed to do one thing really well (and caring about other people was not that thing). If you haven’t read Wright Thompson’s insanely beautiful profile of Williams’ daughter, Claudia Williams, you should. It starts off dark and depressing, but by the end it has enough hope in it to inspire even the most hard-boiled and reluctant fathers. Because, over time, due to the incredible efforts of his children, Ted Williams started to change. “What’s incredible as an observer was to watch him fall in love with his kids,” a friend says in the profile Thompson says in the piece about Williams.”The vulnerability of having love for your children. You could see it just gnaw. It was everything against his grain to succumb to this outside influence of children. Love had control over him. He felt vulnerable. A vulnerability he had never had in his life.” And that was starting to show itself in little hints, whether it was entries in Williams’ fishing journal, where for the first time he began to write about the kids he had long ignored or in the signed poster his daughter had found under piles of memorabilia after her father’s death, that just said, ‘To my beautiful daughter. I love you. Dad.’”You have that vulnerability now. Those same powerful forces are gnawing at you too, hopefully, and making progress on that tough exoskeleton you developed to protect yourself. You can let this change you, let this make you better. You can even begin—no matter how far you are down the road, as Williams was—start to make up for mistakes you might have made earlier in fatherhood. It’s never too late.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

The great physicist Richard Feynman had a father who instilled his brilliant son with an interesting perspective about the world. Sitting down, he would lay the newspaper out on the table and ask his boy questions about what they saw and read. Once, when they came upon a photo of the Pope blessing a group of believers, Richard’s father asked his son if he knew the difference between the Pope and his followers. And then, before Richard could answer, he said, “The difference is the hat. He is wearing a hat.” His dad would repeat the same exercise whether it was a photo of a general with stars on their collar or a wealthy executive with an expensive suit. After years in the uniform business, Feynman’s father knew that people were people, whatever clothes their job dressed them in. He wanted his son to realize that nobody was better than him, that everybody was equal, no matter who they were and what they had accomplished. You can imagine this gave his young son a lot of confidence, confidence that your children could benefit from. Just because other kids live in bigger houses or have more illustrious last names, does that mean they are better? Just because other kids do or don’t wear glasses, do or don’t have their own car, do or don’t go on weekend ski trips, do or don’t receive financial aid, what does that mean? It means nothing. If you want to raise a kid that challenges the status quo, that fulfills their potential, that looks at the world without prejudice, teach them that. The other side of that lesson for Feynman was humility and it’s why you should teach it to your kids too. Feynman didn’t think his Nobel Prize made him special—in fact, he was reluctant to accept it. Because he disliked the pomp and circumstance and he knew that accolades don’t make you any more or less right. He didn’t need a special hat to feel good about himself, and he didn’t like getting the attention—when the work was what mattered. Nobody is better than your kids and your kids are not better than anyone else. The sooner they realize that, the better.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Kids are crazy, right? When they’re hungry, they are rude and difficult to manage. They are demanding and seem incapable, most of the time, of doing anything for themselves. They are totally ungrateful for what people do for them. In fact, a lot of the time they are completely unaware that anyone exists in the world but themselves. This is not new, obviously. In the 1600s, the French satirist Jean de La Bruyère captured the timelessness of the selfishness of the young. “Children are overbearing,” he wrote, “supercilious, passionate, envious, inquisitive, egotistical, idle, fickle, timid, intemperate, liars, and dissemblers; they laugh and weep easily, are excessive in their joys and sorrows, and that about the most trifling objects; they bear no pain, but like to inflict it on others.” It’s all true. And so is the kicker with which he ended his observation, “...already they are men.”The point being: Before you complain about how selfish and crazy your kids are, we ought to look in the mirror. Don’t we get hangry? Don’t we take people for granted? Don’t we alternate between elation and frustration? Don’t we get excited by trivial things? Aren’t we incapable of regulating our emotions and our desires? And haven’t we had a lot more time to practice these things too?Cut them a break. You cut yourself plenty.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Who among us is not insecure? We look around and see people who make more money. Who have bigger houses. Who have accomplished more than we have. This insecurity is compounded by social media, but it is also timeless. There’s a story that Julius Caesar once stood in front of a statue of Alexander the Great. At the age Caesar was at that moment, Alexander the Great had already conquered the world. By comparison, Caesar had done almost nothing. While there might be some motivational benefits to this insecurity, it’s probably not the best way to live. And does anyone think they do good work while telling themselves they are not enough? Might fullness and confidence actually be a better place—cognitively, creatively, emotionally—to approach your work and your life from than craving? You don’t make great work feeling like a piece of shit. You make great work knowing you are capable of making great work. In any case, the Catholic activist—and possibly future saint—Dorothy Day had a good observation that we can think about today as a way of putting some of those insecurities to bed. Because whatever you do, wherever you are in your career and life, there is something you should be taking great satisfaction and meaning in—there is something you should be incredibly proud of yourself for: the person(s) you have created. As she writes:“If I had written the greatest book, composed the greatest symphony, painted the most beautiful painting or carved the most exquisite figure, I could not have felt the more exalted creator than I did when they placed my child in my arms...No human creature could recieve or contain so vast a flood of love and joy as I felt after the birth of my child. With this came the need to worship, to adore.” That feeling, that feeling you felt the first day you held your children. The feeling you feel when they run into your arms and call you daddy. Or when they come into your room to ask for advice. Or when you sit across the table from them and watch them eat. That feeling—the pride, the love, the connection—this is the feeling to carry with you. You made that. You were the exalted creator of that. It might not be a billion dollar tech startup, it might not be a Grammy-winning album or the Mona Lisa, but it’s one hell of a something. And it’s only the beginning. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

We talked before about how MacArthur had a kind of scheduled morning craziness with his son Arthur, who would enter his room promptly at 7am and pummel his father awake. Then together they’d sing songs—old army songs Douglas had taught him—with Arthur still slurring his R’s—while dad shaved and got ready for work.As William Manchester observes in his amazing biography of the complicated man, MacArthur believed that his son was the only one who appreciated his singing. “He was wrong,” Manchester wrote. “Everyone around him appreciated it because they saw the changes the boy had wrought in him.” MacArthur, whose only child was born when he was 58, and was already one of the most powerful men in the army, had always been active and firm. But with a young boy running around, he became alive in a way that he had never been before. He laughed. He loved. He let his guard down. Manchester beautifully captures what fatherhood has done for countless fathers for all time: A snapshot of the three MacArthurs, taken on the boy’s third birthday, shows Arthur in a sailor suit, his mother in a flower-trimmed frock, and his father in khaki. The General’s expression can only be described as adoring. Acclaim, achievements, decorations, and high rank had come to him early. Now, in his sixties, he had found serenity.You have been given a wonderful gift—actually that’s not quite right, you have helped create a wonderful gift. Now you have to give yourself over to it. You have to truly accept it and let it into your heart. Not just once, for the first time, when they are young and so irresistibly cute, but over and over again as you both get older. Let it keep making you better. Let it give you serenity. Have fun. Get crazy. Be adoring. Relax your guard. Keep changing. You deserve it and so does everyone around you.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

We live in a world awash with ego. We see it every day. We can see the ego of our boss, and how it has turned the office against them. We can see ego in politicians and professional athletes. We can see it in our kid’s teacher, perhaps, when they get in some pissing match with another parent or are threatened by a precious student. As they get older, we can even see ego in our own kids—thinking they can ace a test without studying or advance in sports without practicing.The laundry list of out of control egos is easy to write. But it’s interesting to think that putting it together may in fact be our own ego distracting us from ourselves. Because by focusing on the problems other people’s egos are causing we excuse ourselves from looking in the mirror at our own.Today and every day, dads should take a moment to just think about where ego is holding them back. Is the power struggle with your teenager actually over anything important or is this just you demanding to be in control? “You can’t learn that which you think you already know,” Epictetus once said. Well, what things are you holding yourself back from learning because you’re a know-it-all? The pissing contest you got into with a teacher? The pissing contest you’re still in with your dad? The hours you work, the money you spend, the car you drive—is there ego tied up in any of these? Any chance it’s warping your priorities? Any chance it’s getting you into trouble? Ego is the enemy. Always. Of everything, but especially of the things that really matter in this life: happiness, a family that gets along, improving, contentment, forgiveness, stillness.You know it. So stop thinking about other people and work on yourself. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

If you haven’t seen the fascinating Netflix documentary about Rachel Dolezal, a troubled woman who pretended to be black when she’s actually white, you should. It’s not worth getting into the controversial racial issues that the documentary brings up, but it’s worth watching them in the documentary, since it shows them in all their very human complexity and contradiction. What is worth noting here is a comment that one of Rachel’s adopted younger brothers (who she ended up raising herself) says about their missionary foster parents. He says something like: The one job of parents is to give their children a childhood they don’t have to spend years of therapy processing. Certainly that’s a low bar. The only lower bar is literally keeping them alive. But it’s worth bringing up because of how many parents fail to meet it, even as they succeed in other ways. Sure, you helped turn your son into a professional football player, but to do it, you cultivated an insatiable desire to win that prevents him from ever enjoying those victories. Or you got your daughter into Harvard, but you were so strict and demanding that her poor self-esteem makes her tolerate the worst kind of people in relationships. Your kids get one life. What kind of life are you raising them to have? They get one sense of self. Are you giving them a kind or a harsh one?The world would be a better place if dads took the time to actively think about what the ramifications of their decisions are going to be. Imagine your son or your daughter on a therapist’s couch in the future. Of course they’re going to be talking about you—that’s almost all anyone talks about in therapy. But perhaps that image might stop you from having that affair, it might make you go a little easier on them, it might help you respond better in that critical situation when they come to you and say, “Mom, Dad, I have to tell you guys something. This isn’t easy but...”Do you need to have that argument with your spouse? Can you let it go? Why not do something about your anger problem? (More on that here). Or your drinking problem? Or your weight problem? Maybe you don’t need to push your religious beliefs so hard? Maybe you can give them space to explore their own political leanings instead of belittling them? And at the same time, maybe if you were a little less busy and a little more attentive, maybe you’d stop missing all their cries for help or that problem that’s been brewing for some time?Your job is not to make them rich. Not to make them smarter than everyone else. All those trappings are extra. What your real job is, is to give them a childhood they don’t need therapy to get over. Start there.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

You might not think of Tom Hanks as a father, but he is one. He had four kids, two from his first marriage, Colin and Elizabeth, and two from his second, Chet and Truman. You might not think of Tom Hanks as someone who messes up, or someone who would struggle at something as wholesome as being a dad, but again, you’d be wrong. A recent New York Times profile spent some time talking with Hanks about fatherhood, and the reality of what it was like to have his first two kids while he was still an up and coming actor. Colin and Elizabeth were growing up while their father was still trying to get parts, trying to make a living and pay the rent, as Hanks puts it. But by the time Chet and Truman were born, he was long past that. They grew up with a dad who was much more secure, who didn’t have to audition anymore, who was famous and beloved. Does he feel guilty about some of those mistakes? Absolutely. How has it affected his parenting style? It’s made him much more understanding, much more patient, and ultimately, much more responsible. As he explained: It isn’t easy being a parent, not for any of us. Somewhere along the line, I figured out, the only thing really, I think, eventually a parent can do is say I love you, there’s nothing you can do wrong, you cannot hurt my feelings, I hope you will forgive me on occasion, and what do you need me to do? You offer up that to them. I will do anything I can possibly do in order to keep you safe. That’s it. Offer that up and then just love them.Beautiful, yeah? And humanizing, too? Look, if you think you’re not going to mess up as a Dad, you’re in for a rude surprise. If you think the struggles you’re going through in your career, in your marriage, in your life are not going to affect your kids, you’re being naive. But you can’t whip yourself about that. All you can do is try to learn from your failings and keep going. You can keep showing up and asking, “What do you need me to do?” You can offer that. You can love them.And if you keep doing it, you’ll get some of the flashes of a happy family that Tom Hanks talks about in the article, the kind that make life worth living.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

A while back, we talked over at Daily Stoic about one of Seneca’s remedies for a hot temper. Try to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror some time when you’re upset, he said, and you’ll be appalled at how you look. We talk about this exercise a bit in our course on anger, but the logic is worth considering for any dad. Anger might feel deserved or appropriate, but it almost always looks awful. The next time you are out, try watching for other dads who are getting angered by something their kids are doing. Or observe the crowd at your son or daughter’s next baseball game. Track that family traveling on vacation at the airport, or people at the table across from you at dinner. Because it’s as close to a look in the mirror as you’re likely to get. How do you think you look when you tell your son way too loudly to “Sit down. I told you already, sit down!” when they bounce around with too much energy? How do you think you look as you grab their arm with frustration and jerk them closer to you in line? Do you think you sound good threatening—like some tyrant—to take away some basic privilege of theirs because they’re not behaving exactly as you like? Or when you shout at them to hurry up at the airport? You think you don’t sound like a bully when you belittle and criticize them for messing up again? You think you don’t look like a monster when, after the argument escalates and escalates, you slap them across the face?You look terrible. You look as awful and shameful as the people looked when you saw them do it in public, to their kids, as you tried to avert your gaze. You looked like Tom Izzo, yelling at that player during March Madness, and everyone else feels like the other players who wanted to step in and restrain him. No one looks good angry. No one would want to catch a reflection of themselves in the heat of the moment. Which is why we have to catch ourselves first. Which is why we have to do the work on ourselves now, before we become the thing we cannot stand to look at.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

One of the things you have trouble adjusting to when you first have kids is the crying. Not just because it’s loud, but because it feels like you’re being stabbed in the heart. We are not meant, evolutionarily, to be good at ignoring crying babies—especially ones we are related to. It provokes us in a very deep place, and that’s a good thing. But, as they get older, you’ll have to learn how to manage this. Because it’s inevitable that your children will be upset, even cry, throughout their lives. You son will fall and hurt himself. Your daughter will be angry that her toy broke. They’ll be sad. They’ll get dumped. They’ll be heartbroken. They’ll get fired and they will fail.As a father, you have to understand this critical lesson: Tears are not indictments. They are facts. They are not problems for you to solve, or charges for you to defend yourself against. They are pronouncements. What your kids need is for you to listen to them. To hear what they are saying. No more. No less. They don’t need a lecture. They don’t need you to tell them how they can avoid this next time. They definitely don’t need to be told how this is not a big deal...or conversely, how this is a huge deal and totally their fault. They just need you. They need dad. They need dad to understand. Got it? By the way...this advice should apply to your marriage or relationships too.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

It’s fitting that one of the most important things you can do as a parent would require you to think about a thing that’s very nearly impossible for a parent to even consider. It comes to us from Marcus Aurelius by way of Epictetus: As you kiss your son good night, says Epictetus, whisper to yourself, “He may be dead in the morning.” Don’t tempt fate, you say. By talking about a natural event? Is fate tempted when we speak of grain being reaped?Of course, this is not an easy thing to do. It goes against all our impulses. But we must do it. Because life is fleeting and the world is cruel. Marcus lost 5 children. 5! Seneca, we gather, lost one early too. It should never happen, but it does. It heartbreakingly-world-wreckingly-nobody-deserves-it does. And it’s not that we hope that Marcus Aurelius and Seneca’s philosophical training prepared them for the pain of losing a child (nothing can prepare you for that). What we hope is that this exercise meant they didn’t waste a single second of the time they did get with their beautiful children.A parent who faces the fact that they can lose a child at any moment is a parent who is present. Who loves. Who does not hold onto stupid things or enforce stupid rules. A great dad looks at the cruel world and says, “I know what you can do to my family in the future, but for the moment you’ve spared me. I will not take that for granted.” Anxiety? Keeping up with the Joneses? Caring about getting into that exclusive pre-school or into Harvard? Who cares?It can all go away in a second. There’s nothing we can do about that. We can, however, drink in the present. We can be what they need right now. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Douglas MacArthur was a man of routine, most military men are. So it shouldn’t surprise us that he built a family life around routine. But unlike far too many fathers who make routine a form of control, MacArthur’s morning routine was about fun—it was about starting the day off right.As the peerless William Manchester details in his book American Caesar, the morning time was one of the best times at the MacArthur household. In fact, it was kind of scheduled crazy fun: When Arthur began to walk, and then to talk, father and son developed a morning ceremony. At about 7:30 A.M. the door of the General’s bedroom would open and the boy would trudge in clutching his favorite toy, a stuffed rabbit with a scraggly mustache which he called “Old Friend.” MacArthur would instantly bound out of bed and snap to attention. Then the General marched around the room in quickstep while his son counted cadence: “Boom! Boom! Boomity boom!” After they had passed the bed several times, the child would cover his eyes with his hands while MacArthur produced the day’s present: a piece of candy, perhaps, or a crayon, or a coloring book. The ritual would end in the bathroom, where MacArthur would shave while Arthur watched and both sang duets.And it didn’t just happen when Arthur was young. As he got older, while his father ruled post-war Japan, Arthur would wake at 7am, and according to Manchester, “rush into the General’s bedroom and pummel him.We talked before about Ulysses S. Grant’s evening wrestling matches with his kids. We talked about the epic games in the yard that Harmon Killebrew’s father knew was killing his grass but helping raise his kids. Well, we shouldn’t just be talking about this, we shouldn’t just be thinking it was cute that MacArthur and Grant let their guard down at home. We have to do the same thing.No one is too important or too busy to have some crazy time at home. No one is above getting pummeled by their kid in bed. No father should hesitate before singing at the top of their lungs while they shave. These moments are the best moments. If they’re rare, you’re doing it wrong. They should be regular. Maybe like MacArthur, they should be scheduled every morning for 7:30.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Cato the Younger was not an easy man to get to do something. If he felt it went against his conscience or that it was illogical, you’d have an easier time convincing a fish to climb a tree. That’s just how he was. All his life.So, as you can imagine, Cato was not an easy student. He resisted anyone and everyone who tried to tell him what to do. Plutarch, one of his biographers, observed that “to learn is simply to allow something to be done to you and to be quickly persuaded is natural for those who are less able to offer resistance.” This is why we start instructing our kids in the important things so early, even when it seems like they are way too young. Because if we wait, they’ll be able to easily fight us off and resist the lessons they will need in life. Cato was an obstinate student, Plutarch tells us—“in each case he demanded the reason and wanted to know the why and wherefore.” But this resistance was nothing compared to what Julius Caesar and Pompey faced when they tried to bowl Cato over as an adult, when they tried to show him how the world really worked. It was nothing compared to what other corrupt and dishonest politicians experienced when they tried to show Cato what was in his “best interest.”While Cato had been a resistant learner, what his teachers were able to get up and over his defenses really stuck. Those lessons about right and wrong, about doing your duty, about the history of Rome—those lessons were etched into steel. And no one was ever able to teach him otherwise...even with the threat of death or a bribe of many dollars. We have to teach our kids early. We have to push past their reservations. Of course they would rather play video games. Of course it’s more fun to goof off. But now is the time. Before they can fight us off with their full determination. Before the cement is completely dry. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

One of the best lines from Seneca is that while we can’t choose our parents, we do have the ability to choose whose children we will be. In ancient Rome this was even more true than it sounds, because it was common for people to be adopted into families. Seneca’s brother, Lucius Annaeus Novatus, for instance, was adopted by a man named Gallio, whose name he eventually took (and if that name sounds familiar, it’s because Seneca’s brother is in the Bible).In any case, this idea is worth thinking about now that you’re a parent. Instead of thinking about how you parents were, and using that as an excuse for whatever type of parent is easiest and most natural, why don’t you think about who you wish your parents were. Maybe that’s a specific person or maybe that’s just an ideal that you’ve seen in a movie or read about in a book. Maybe it’s a combination of the mother of one of your friends, and then someone else has become a father-figure and mentor to you since. Or maybe it’s Mr. Rogers and Ms. Frizzle from Magical School Bus. Or maybe it’s Socrates and Oprah. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you try to live as if that is whose child you were and are. We want to eliminate the excuse of “Oh that’s just how I was raised” and “It’s what I saw growing up.” Instead we want to flip it from a rationalization to an encouragement. I am this way because it’s what my “parents” taught me to be. I’m a great dad because I had a great dad (or dads). I am carrying on the tradition. I am passing along the love and the lessons I got.You can’t choose your parents. They did the best they could. But you can choose whose footsteps you’re going to follow in, and in so doing, what kind of parents your kids are going to have.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

It’s a sad sight when you see a dad who has clearly stopped trying. He puts on weight. He checks out of his marriage. Maybe he starts drinking more. He resigns himself to the fact that he hates his job. He accepts whatever grades his kids bring home from school. He makes their behavior somebody else’s problem. We see that dad and we think, “I never want to be that guy.”Good. Ok. But what steps are you following to make sure you don’t? In the startup world, they said that if your company isn’t growing, it’s dying. In a way, it’s sort of true for people too. If you’re not actively developing yourself, what’s happening? You’re atrophying. You’re getting worse. Epictetus liked to quote Socrates, that he delighted in attending to his own improvement day to day. Brilliant. And in a way, the perfect thing for you to be thinking about as we head into a new year. How are you improving yourself day to day? Are you working out? Are you reading? Are you setting goals for yourself? Are you clocking in at home as well as at the office? Your kids will be better served by a father that’s getting better. More importantly, they will be inspired by your example. Show them that you’re trying—that we can never stop trying—and they’ll follow you in their own way.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.