Since she was a toddler, my daughter Nee has shown a natural aptitude for language. She started reading when she was three years old and has developed into a talented writer and speller.

All of her life, relatives have praised her intelligence. They often tell her things like, “You’re such a smart girl” or “You got all As because you’re so smart.”

Apparently this type of praise has been dangerous. According to a Columbia University study conducted by psychologist Carol Dweck, praising a child for her intelligence does more harm than good.

Based on Nee’s behavior, I tend to agree.

In a paper titled, “The Secret to Raising Smart Kids,” Dweck wrote:

Our society worships talent, and many people assume that possessing superior intelligence or ability—along with confidence in that ability—is a recipe for success. In fact, however, more than 30 years of scientific investigation suggests that an overemphasis on intellect or talent leaves people vulnerable to failure, fearful of challenges and unwilling to remedy their shortcomings.

When we praise children for their intelligence, we inadvertently send the wrong message: Look smart, don’t risk making mistakes.

Nee is often stifled by fear of making mistakes. If something is difficult, she becomes frustrated and immediately gives up. She never wants to be perceived as unintelligent; therefore, she would rather avoid a task than to fail at it. In her mind failure = dumb.

This study has made me rethink my parenting style. But change is not easy and I often lapse into my old behavior. A few days ago, Nee handed me a piece of paper and then ran away.

“Nee,” I said. “Come back here. What is this?”

“It’s my math test,” she said. I opened the paper to discover she had earned an 88.

“You got a B, honey,” I said. “Why didn’t you want to show this to me?”

“Because you always say that I’m too smart to earn Bs,” she said demurely. “And you get mad at me.”

Ouch! I was convicted. Not only was I placing undue pressure on her, but I was also fueling her fear of failure.

Now I understand that I need to praise her whenever she works hard and pushes through the difficult times instead of giving up. I’d much prefer Nee to take risks and make a few mistakes than to rest on her laurels.

I want people to see my daughter as more than just a smart girl. I want her to be known as someone isn’t afraid to try.

Stay Strong,

Question: Do you agree or disagree with the premise of this study?

Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo Fairgrounds

The Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo is a Texas tradition. The month-long event includes a rodeo competition, livestock show, carnival (which featured outlandish foods such as fried White Castle burgers and chicken fried bacon) and concerts.

My family somehow used Jedi mind tricks to convince me to purchase tickets to the Demi Lovato and Jonas Brothers concert. While I earned points in the cool dad column, I lost major points in the music snob column. Oh, the things dads do for their children.

This is Our First Rodeo

This was the first time that my children had attended a rodeo or a concert so everyone was excited.

However, my daughter’s excitement waned as soon as the Calf Roping competition began. She was horrified after she watched the cowboy jump off the horse, tackle the calf, and tie its legs together. She nearly hyperventilated as the calf lay motionless on the arena floor.

“Mommy,” she screamed. “Why did he kill that calf? It’s only a baby.”

KayEm assured her that the calf was okay. Nee was relieved when they untied the calf’s legs and the animal ran off.

Yes, everything is bigger in Texas

After that initial scare, we watched the remainder of the rodeo events, Team Roping, Steer Wresting, Bronco Busting, Bull Riding, and Barrel Racing without incident.

There were two events that we really enjoyed: The Calf Scramble and Mutton Bustin’.

If you’ve never seen Mutton Bustin’, it is a sight to behold. In this event, 5-6 year old kids straddle a sheep and hold on as long as they can while the sheep races across the arena.

In the Calf Scramble, a group of about 30 teenagers chase a herd of calves in an attempt to capture one and bring it to the center of the arena. Easier said than done. As these kids can attest, calves are much faster and stronger that you would expect.

Demi Lovato and The Jonas Brothers Take the Stage

When the rodeo ended, the stadium crew prepared the arena for the concert. The anticipation was thick as screams filled Reliant Stadium.

The concert began with a pyrotechnics show that startled and upset my two-year old son X. Needless to say, he didn’t enjoy the concert at all. He covered his ears and screamed, “Too loud! Too loud!” throughout the entire show.

Demi Lovato opened the show with a four-song set. Based on her performance, I doubt that she could make it to the finals of American Idol. Her singing was often tuneless and inaudible at times except when she was screaming. She has a way to go before she will be a credible artist.

When I asked my daughter what she thought about Lovato’s performance, she shrugged her shoulders and said, “It was fair. I think I preferred the rodeo.”

Photo by Myra Beltran - Houston Chronicle

She was much more enthusiastic about the Jonas Brothers’ performance. So were the thousands of pre-teen and teenage girls who never stopped screaming throughout the entire show (my ears are still ringing).

Joe Jonas, dressed in a stylish gold suit, worked the crowd into frenzy by mugging for the camera and jumping off the stage to interact with the legions of fans.

The Jonas Brothers ran through the set of their popular tunes and surprised and delighted the crowd with duets with Demi Lovato and a twangy cover of Keith Urban’s “Somebody Like You” complete with cowboy hats. However, one of the brothers was close to getting his Texan credentials revoked for wearing his hat backwards.

After the song ended, my son N turned to me and asked “When are they going to sing ‘Single Ladies‘?”

“I don’t think they will sing that song tonight, son.” I said. I guess I need to keep him away from YouTube.

I have to admit that I didn’t hate the Jonas Brothers performance as much as I thought I would. In fact, I was impressed by Nick Jonas’ talent. He bounced between lead vocals, lead guitar, drums, and piano with ease. The highlight of the show was his performance of “Who I Am” from his album with his new band Nick Jonas and the Administration. My son N and I even stood up to accompany Nick with some air guitar licks.

Before the show ended, we were all caught up in the contagious energy. Even though I’ll have to make amends to music snob society, I’m glad that I was able to expose my kids to a new experience. I can’t wait until next year.

Stay Strong,

Questions: What was the first concert you took your kids to? What was the first concert you attended?

“Why can’t I wear broken pants?” inquired my 6-year-old son, N.

“What exactly are broken pants?” I asked.

“You know,” he said in a condescending tone. “Broken pants. The ones with the holes in the knees.”

“Oh,” I said feigning understanding. “Now I understand.”

“Good,” he said. “So why can’t I wear them?”

“Because you’re not homeless,” I said.

“But daddy,” he said. “I want to dress cool like my friends.”

And so the desire to fit in begins. I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to deal with this issue until he was a teenager. I guess today’s kids really do grow up faster.

By his own admission, N is handsome and cool. His classmates adore him and want to emulate him. However, he doesn’t realize the influence that he has because he is too busy trying to be like everyone else.

I believe that N is a pretty snazzy dresser. Of course, I’m biased because I’m the one who takes him clothes shopping. I released my wife, KayEm, of this duty because of her propensity to buy him “cute” clothes, and by cute I mean dorky. She also likes to dress both of our sons alike even though they aren’t twins. For the boys’ sakes, I had to intervene.

My goal is to buy N clothes that are stylish, durable, and enduring (after all, his younger brother has to wear them too). That mean no sagging pants, no skinny jeans, and no licensed characters (except for Batman because I like Batman).

I try to be flexible during our shopping trips. Sometimes I make the decision on what to buy. Other times I give him a choice. Keep in mind that it is a controlled choice. He can select one item from the three I have chosen.

Periodically, I give him free reign to choose whatever he wants. But before he makes his selections, I give him the following speech:

“Always remember that you are representing our family when you go out in public. You make an impression by what you wear, what you say, and how you behave.”

Of course, he always chooses items with licensed characters (which I hate) or clothes with skulls and crossbones (which my wife hates).

Sure, I’d love for him to wear sweater vests, khakis and button down shirts or even jeans with loafers and a blazer, but I realize that he has to develop his own sense of style the allows him to fit in with his peers even if it does include broken pants.

Stay Strong,

Question: How do you deal with your child’s desire to have the latest fashion?

“The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you’ll go.” -  Dr. Seuss

As I sat at my desk tapping away at the keyboard, my 2-year-old son, X, shoved a book in my face.

“Read Elmo,” he demanded.

I pushed the book away and continued typing. However, the little guy would not be denied.

“Read Elmo, now,” he said as he climbed on to my lap using himself as a barrier between my laptop and me. Realizing that I had no choice but to appease the toddler, I stepped away from the computer and carried X to the living room.

We settled on the couch and I began to read about Elmo’s adventures. This particular book has a built-in Elmo puppet. X’s face erupted with delight as I made Elmo dance and sing.

As I continued reading, I noticed that my two older children had gathered around the couch to listen to the story. Their presence surprised me because they are quite vocal about their disdain for Elmo. He’s way too babyish for their tastes. But there was something about listening to Daddy read a book that made Elmo okay for that moment.

Startling Statistics

If you’ve ever shared a book with a child, you know the joy and excitement this small but meaningful act can bring. But, according to the National Center for Education Statistics, since 1993 only 53 to 58 percent of children ages three to five received this joy on a daily basis.

We can do better! Children whose parents read to them develop stronger critical thinking skills and have a higher success rates in school.

My wife and I read books to the kids as often as we can. More importantly, we let our kids see us reading books. According to the National Education Association (NEA), one-third of high school graduates never read another book for the rest of their lives. That statistic shocked me. Books are so much a part of my life that I can’t fathom not reading a single book in the 20 years since I’ve been out of high school.

A Challenge to All Fathers

I encourage all dads to take the time to read to your children. I recently introduced my daughter, Nee, to one of my favorite childhood book series, “Encyclopedia Brown.” We like to read each story and figure out the mystery together. Not only does this time together allow us to grow closer, but it also allows me to relive the joy of my youth through her eyes.

My son, N, and I like to dress up like Captain Underpants and recreate scenes from that series. Although this activity is fun for us, I wouldn’t recommend it to everyone. A grown man wearing underpants and a towel around his neck is not a good look.

I’ll admit that I’m often distracted and neglect this important duty. But all it takes is a determined toddler with an Elmo book to help me regain my focus.

Stay Strong,

Question: How do you think reading to your kids will change in the age of the Kindle and iPad?

Well, you have to admit that he is handsome and cool

I’m glad to know that my son, N, doesn’t lack self-confidence. The following conversation proves this point:

“I told some of the kids at school that I know how to eat with chopsticks,” N said.

“Really,” I replied. “What did the other kids think about that?”

“They started saying that they know how to eat with chopsticks too,” N said.

“Well, maybe they do,” I said.

“No, they don’t,” N said. “They were just saying they did because the want to be handsome and cool like me.”

Like father, like son.

Stay Strong,

This is one of my favorite photos of my daughter and me. I will always see her as the little girl who likes to hold her daddy’s hand.

Stay Strong,

I’d love to see your favorite father/daughterphotos. Please leave links in the comments section. If you don’t have a father/daughter shot any parent/child shot will do.

Since my daughter, Nee, has been at her new school, she has really blossomed. I give most of the credit to her teacher, Mrs. Scott.

Mrs. Scott was the first teacher who has really nurtured Nee and pushed her out of her comfort zone. Under Mrs. Scott’s tutelage, Nee has done things that take courage, confidence, and determination.

I was shocked when she informed me that she had decided to run for Student Council. My eyes glazed over as “Hail to The Chief” started playing in my head.

“Don’t get all excited, Dad,” she said. “I’m only doing it because my teacher made me.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked.

The world would be a better place if all politicians were so adorable

“She said that I was lazy if I didn’t fill out the nomination form,” she said. “And I don’t want her to think I’m lazy.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked. “Being on the student council is a lot of responsibility.”

“What will I have to do?” she asked.

“You’ll be the voice for your classmates,” my wife, KayEm, explained. “You’ll help to make your school a better place.”

Nee thought about it for a while and then agreed to proceed. As a former student council member, her decision made me very happy.

“What should I write on my form?” Nee asked.

“Just write down reasons why people should vote for you,” KayEm said.

“I’m smart,” Nee said.

“That’s good,” KayEm said. “But there are many smart kids at your school.”

“But I’m the smartest one in my class,” Nee said.

“I don’t think you want to say that either,” KayEm said. “Your classmates might take exception to that statement.”

“Well, what should I write?” Nee asked in a whiny voice. This is where I tuned her out. Whining doesn’t play well with me.

“Just go to your room and think of something,” KayEm said.

After several minutes alone, Nee finally completed her campaign manifesto:

I will be a good class representative because I get all of my tasks done and I am very creative and I love to volunteer. I am very kind and I will listen to you. I am honest. I will come to every meeting unless I am sick or something else happens. I’m always willing to help with something. SO VOTE FOR ME!!!!!!

Nee and I worked on campaign posters until it was time for her to go to bed. In fact, I worked on the posters well after her bedtime. I would have created media for YouTube, Twitter, and Facebook if KayEm hadn’t made me come to bed.

Nee campaigned hard for the next few days and even delivered a stirring stump speech. Unfortunately, she was not victorious (I want a recount).

Although Nee was disappointed by the outcome, she was glad that she ran. I wonder if David Axelrod is busy? We need to start preparing for next year’s campaign. I hear fourth graders are some pretty tough constituents.

Stay Strong,

SUBSCRIBE TO MOCHA DAD

Make the music with your mouth, X

Since he’s been watching Yo Gabba Gabba, my 2-year-old son, X, has developed some wicked beatboxing talent. Sometimes he and I sit in the living room and have beatbox contests. I rarely win because X has skillz.

One morning, I walked in on X and my wife, KayEm, dancing to Mariah Carey’s “Fantasy.” I didn’t protest because this song has the most creative rhyme ever uttered in hip-hop (Me and Mariah/Go back like babies and pacifyas. – OBD). Eventually, I had to intervene because too much Mariah Carey is not good for anybody.

“Yo, X,” I interjected. “You wanna kick it old school?”

“Ol Kool,” he repeated.

I grew up in the 70s and 80s when hip-hop was new and unique. It was the soundtrack of my youth and I was excited to share the music I loved as a child with my son. Any old school hip-hop rotation has to start with Run-DMC I queued “Sucker M.C.s” on the iPod and pressed play. X immediately protested.

“No, no,” he yelled. I was shocked. What son of mine doesn’t like Run-DMC? I considered calling Maury Povich, but my wife wouldn’t have found the humor in that.

Maybe Run-D.M.C. wasn’t old school enough for him, I thought. I decided to shift gears. I searched through my iPod until I found Mantronix’s “Fresh is the Word.” X was excited when he heard the hi-hat intro, but he quickly lost interest when MC Tee started rapping.

“No, no,” he protested. But this time he started beatboxing.

“Oh,” I said. “You want hear some beatboxing?”

“Yes!” he responded.

“I have something that I think you will like.” I scrolled through the iPod again until I found the perfect song. “Here’s

Mocha Dad is the Original Father MC

your buddy, Biz Markie.” I said as “Make the Music With Your Mouth Biz” blasted from the stereo.

“No, no,” he protested again. Now I was confused. He loves watching Biz Markie on Yo Gabba Gabba, but today, Biz got the “Gas Face.” I was perplexed. If he didn’t want to hear Biz Markie, what did he want to listen to?

Doug E. Fresh? No!

Blake Lewis? Absolutely not!

As I sat there watching him beatbox, the lightbulb finally went off. I frantically searched my iPod until I found what X was waiting for. The speakers boomed with the sounds of “Brrrrrr, stick ‘em. Ha ha ha, stick ‘em. Brrrrrr, stick ‘em. Ha ha ha, stick ‘em. Brrrrrr, stick ‘em. Ha ha ha, stick ‘em. Gonna rock the beat box and a fresh, funky rhythm.”

X pumped his fist and yelled, “Yes!” He started beatboxing with the song and displayed a littler swagger while doing so.

All this time, my son was a Fat Boys fan and I didn’t even know it. I had to play the song at least five times, before X grew tired of it.

Sorry, Biz. It looks like the Fat Boys hold the Human Beat Box title in X’s eyes. But in a few years, I think X will reign supreme.

Stay Strong,

Post Script: A few days after our Old School Hip-Hop Party, I received this e-mail message from my wife KayEm:

X’s teacher said that today when the kids were dancing, X was breakdancing and the other kids were standing in a circle around him just watching. And this morning when he woke up he was beatboxing. I asked if that was his beat, he said no. “Daddy’s beat.” You’re raising an old school hip hop superstar.”

My 6-year-old son, N, and I share a love of cars. I guess we get it from my father who was an amateur race car driver and car enthusiast himself. I still remember the sounds of the roaring engines and scents of burning rubber, gasoline, and dirt.

But I recently discovered something that N likes even more than cars. Oddly enough, I made my discovery at the Houston Auto Show.

Is this a car or is it a robot in disguise?

N and I have attended the show each year since he was three. We enjoy sitting in the driver’s seats of luxury and sports cars pretending we are driving down the open road.

When we entered the arena, N made a B-line to the Transformers branded Camaro.

“Daddy,” he said. “I wonder if this car can transform into Bumblebee.”

“I doubt it,” I said. “But it would be cool if it could.”

N's Dream Car

After realizing the Camaro was only a car, N darted to his favorite piece of machinery – a red 2010 Lotus Exige.

“I want one of those, Daddy,” he said jumping and pointing.

“So do I, son,” I said. “So do I.”

Since neither of us could afford a new Lotus we moved on to my favorite part of the show – the classic car display. Of course my son burst my bubble when he said, “Daddy those cars aren’t cool. They’re old.”

After we made the loop around the arena, I noticed the Jeep display in the corner.

1966 Mustang - If this car were a woman, I'd marry it.

“Let’s go and look at the Jeeps,” I said.

“I don’t really like Jeeps, Dad,” he said. “I’d rather look at some other cars.”

“Just humor me for a minute,” I said. “A Jeep was the first automobile I bought and I want to reminisce for a minute.”

“Okay, fine,” he said.

We took pictures in the Wranglers and Grand Cherokees as I remember the good times I had in my Jeep. Soon my trip down memory lane was over and it was time to leave. As I walked to the next automaker’s display, I noticed that N was lagging behind. I walked back to where he was standing and grabbed his arm.

“C’mon son,” I said. “I’m done. We can go now.”

“Wait a minute, Daddy,” he said. “I’m not ready to go.”

“I thought you said you didn’t like Jeeps,” I said. “What is it that you want to see?”

Not the actual model, but you get the picture

My question was answered as an attractive spokesmodel stepped to the platform to talk about the new Jeeps. N was mesmerized.

“Daddy, can we wait here a minute?” he asked. “I’d like to hear what she has to say.”

“Why do you care what she has to say?” I said. “You don’t like Jeeps. Remember?”

“Shhh, Daddy,” he said. “I can’t hear.”

I just shook my head as we listened and learned. Something tells me that N’s first car will also be a Jeep.

Stay Strong,

Tell me about your first car or your first crush.

While I was lying in bed watching TV, my 6-year-old son, N, walked into my bedroom carrying his game case.

“Daddy,” he said. “Will you play checkers with me?”

“Sure, son.” I said. “Set up the board.” After hearing my response, my 8-year-old daughter, Nee, ran to my bedside.

“Daddy,” she complained. “Why don’t you ever play checkers with me?”

“Because you never ask,” I said. N always asks for whatever he wants. Sometimes he asks incessantly. Nee on the other hand rarely asks for what she wants and gets upset when we grant some of N’s requests.

photo by MrPessimist via Flickr

“Can I play the winner?” she asked.

“Of course you can, dear,” I said.

N jumped on on my bed and set up the pieces. Nee sat beside him to offer him some sideline coaching. The game was going fine until N started cheating. He often resorts to cheating when he is losing. I told N that I would not play with a cheater. He immediately stopped, but started lamenting the fact that he was losing.

“Daddy,” he complained. “You always beat me. I never win.”

“Keep playing,” I said. “You’ll get better.”

The game ended with my king taking his last checker.

“My turn,” yelled Nee. She set up the board and we commenced. Nee made a few strategic moves that impressed me and I let her know that she was playing well.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I know you’re going to win.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” I said. “If you keep playing like that you might win.” I never lose to my kids on purpose, but this time I decided to let Nee win to give her a confidence boost. When she earned her first king, I knew that she was feeling good about herself. She started picking off my checkers one-by-one.

I was down to my last checker and Nee had two kings and several other pieces left on the board. I moved my checker into her king’s path and watched as she joyful grabbed the victory.

Both kids were shocked that I lost. N had to let his mother know about this stunning turn of events.

“Mommy, mommy,” N yelled. “Nee just beat the ultimate player.”

Stay Strong,

Question: Do you ever intentionally let your kids win games?