Men were made to be bold, strong, leaders. However, our society has attempted to repress these traits. If you look at the way men (especially dads) are portrayed on TV, you’d think we were all a bunch of irresponsible, befuddled, nincompoops, who can only function with the help of a “smart” female partner, friend, or spouse.

Consequently, many boys are confused and have no idea what it takes to be a real man. They seek inappropriate role models and emulate the bad behavior that they see on a regular basis.

It is our duty as men, fathers, and responsible citizens to counter these negative images and raise a new generation of men who are respectful, loving, and willing to contribute to society in a positive way.

If we are to achieve this goal, we must start with improving ourselves. I started my journey towards self-improvement after my daughter’s birth. The greatest compliment that a father can get from his daughter is “I want to marry someone just like you.” That kind of pressure forces you to examine your life and look for ways to improve.

Over the years, I’ve discovered seven traits that real men possess:

1. Integrity – Integrity is more than being honest. It’s a lifestyle set on striving towards moral excellence. Real men say what they mean and mean what they say. They are the same person whether or not others are watching. They are trustworthy, dependable, and unwavering.
2. Compassion – Compassion is sympathetic consciousness of others’ distress together with a desire to alleviate it. In other words, you feel compelled to help someone who is hurting. Men aren’t often viewed as being compassionate, but it is a trait that helps us to become more connected to the people around us. Real men turn their compassion into service and work to make the world a better place.
3. Confidence – Real men are confident. Many people confuse confidence with arrogance and self-centeredness. Real men know the difference. Confidence is about being self-assured and self-aware. Confident men have faith in their abilities and knowledge. They don’t need to tear others down in order to build themselves up. They earn people’s trust with their radiant, inner strength. When a they walk into the room, everyone takes notice.
4. Self-control – Hardly a day goes by without a news report about some high-profile man who has been destroyed by sex, money, and/or drugs. Too many men lack self-control, but it is the foundation of a virtuous life. Self-control starts with focus and ridding yourself of distractions. Doing this isn’t easy because temptations lurk around every corner. Real men are able to tame their desires and channel that energy into positive pursuits.
5. Perseverance – Perseverance is the product of self-control. It is courageous resistance against difficult circumstances. Perseverance is only developed through trials. Real men endure the trials and emerge stronger. They never give up.
6. Bravery – Bravery is the courage to do what is right regardless of the circumstances. Nothing is ever accomplished with an attitude of passivity. Real men stand up in the face of adversity.
7. Humility – Today’s breed of young men loves to let everyone know how much swagger they have. They thump their chests and proclaim to the world, “I’m a Big Deal. Look at me!” Real men understand the value of being humble and letting someone else’s light shine. They realize that humility is more endearing than self-importance. Humility indicates that you are ridding yourself of the poison of self-centeredness. Besides, humility softens the blow when someone knocks you off your pedestal.

Acquiring all of these traits takes time and dedication. However, our society would benefit greatly if all men strove to possess them.

Stay Strong,

Question: In your opnion, what traits should a real man possess?

Mocha Dad and Moms is a monthly column where a mom and I give our points-of-view on a parenting topic. This month’s featured mom is Maria Lianos.

When Is It Too Soon to Give Up on Something?

When my elder son, the Boss, started playing hockey in our very Canadian hockey town, my younger son, the Destroyer, wanted to play too.

He was awestruck by his older brother’s abilities and begged for a chance to get out on the ice.

“I’m glad that you’re so eager to play hockey,” I said.  “But you have to learn how to skate first.”

He was a bit disappointed by this minor detail, but if skating lessons were all he needed to start slapping the puck around the ice, then he was ready to sign up.

When we went to fit him for skates and a helmet, the excitement in his face was very clear. He was going to be just like his big brother.

On the first day of lessons, the Destroyer was raring to go.  But his demeanor changed as soon as his skate blades hit the ice. Warm tears streamed down his little face as he stood motionless on the ice.

I tried not to let his crying make me cry. It took an amazing amount of willpower to keep it together. I wanted to run over, wrap my arms around him, and whisk him away to the comfort of his mother’s love. But I resisted. “Give him time,” I said to myself. “Maybe he’ll like it.” Sadly, the crying continued for the entire lesson.

We attended one more lesson, but the water works started as soon as he entered the rink. At that point, I decided to take him out of skating lessons. I was saddened that skating lessons proved to be such an awful experience for him. I was even more disappointed that it would definitely turn him off hockey completely.

But my main concern was the lesson that he may have learned from this experience. I worried that by pulling him out of the lessons, it may have given him the impression that it’s okay to give up – definitely not something I want to teach my kids. I want them to keep trying and practicing even when it’s hard.  But where do you draw the line? When is it too soon to give up on something?  When is it okay to say, “This is not for my kid”?

A while later, I asked the Destroyer if he was still interested in playing sports. He looked at me with a sly grin and said, “I think I’ll stick with the skateboard and the drums.”

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Maria Lianos is a mom of two rambunctious boys and publisher/editor of A Mother World. She also is a celebrity blogger for Babble and a Community Manager for a local non-profit organization for new parents, Life With a Baby.

Learning How Hard to Push

My daughter, Nee, knows exactly what she doesn’t like. My wife and I have signed her up for many activities, but she can hardly enjoy them because she is such a naysayer.

We tried ballet. “Dancing is not my thing,” she said.

We tried soccer. “Soccer is no fun because the girls are too aggressive,” she complained.

I even offered to enroll her in a Manga drawing class, which I know she loves, but she declined by saying, “It will be boring.”

I want to give her many opportunities to try different things so she can discover her true passions. But it gets frustrating because she is afraid of new experiences.

It’s hard for me to relate to her attitude because I’m adventurous. I try new things just for the sake of doing something different. If I like it – great. If not – no big deal.

Not Nee.

She prefers the safety of the familiar. Therefore, I made a pact with her that was designed to push her out of her comfort zone. She must enroll in at least one extra-curricular activity during the school year and one sport during the summer and she is required to participate for the duration of the activity. If she decides that she doesn’t like it, then she doesn’t have to pursue it any further.

As a parent, I must walk a fine line between pushing her to spread her wings and allowing her to find her own path. But I never want to give her the impression that it’s okay to give up or to not try in the first place.

We recently arranged piano lessons for Nee. After some initial reluctance, she agreed to take the lessons. Things started a little rocky, but she finally made a breakthrough when she was able to play a song all the way through.

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t give up when things got tough?” I asked.

She smiled, nodded her head, and continued playing “Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho.”

Stay Strong,

Questions: When is it too soon to give up on something? How do you teach the value of perseverence? How do you know when you’ve pushed too hard?

Creativity is a trait that I try to nurture in my children. Whether through art, music, or literature, I strive to give them many opportunities to express themselves.

Here is an example of 9-year-old Nee's photography skills

Because of my encouragement, my 9-year-old daughter, Nee, is blossoming into a talented writer, artist, pianist, and photographer. Although she is naturally shy, her artistic endeavors give her an outlet to express herself.

My two sons, N and X, have learned to express their creativity in different ways. X, who is 3-years-old, loves music. He often turns on the stereo and starts dancing. At night, I usually hear him singing himself to sleep (one of his favorite songs is “Beat It“).

Seven-year-old, N has the gift of gab. I’m always impressed by his ability to turn a phrase and effectively argue his point (not to mention his unique questions). Because of his oratory skills, he will either be a politician, pastor, or pundit.

As parents, it is important that we identify our kids’ talents and look for ways to channel their creativity into positive outlets.

Early in my life, my mother realized that I liked to draw; therefore, she did whatever she could to help cultivate my talent. Although she couldn’t afford art lessons, she took me to community art classes and to the library to check out art related books.

I was probably the only kid with an intimate knowledge of Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo, and Raphael before they were Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Without her encouragement, I very well could have succumbed to the temptations of the streets. Instead, I worked hard to develop my artistic and later my literary skills.

In high school and college, I wrote short stories and poems in my spare time. I thought they were masterpieces, but in retrospect they were trite and poorly developed.

It wasn’t until I enrolled in a college poetry writing class, that I really learned how to be creative.

My professor, Dr. Woodson, was a quirky guy who wore black pants, a black shirt, and a black trench coat everyday. He taught us how to deconstruct a poem in order to really appreciate it’s merits. He also taught us about the creative process that goes into writing poetry.

On the first day of class, he told us to pull out a sheet of paper because we were having a pop quiz. We all groaned and reluctantly pulled out our notebooks.

Dr. Woodson reached under his desk and puled out a brown paper bag. He placed the bag on his desk and said, “Here is your quiz.”

We all looked at each other puzzled. One brave student asked what we were supposed to do.

“Tell me what’s in the bag,” said Dr. Woodson. “You have five minutes to complete the quiz.”

We all looked around the room still unsure about what we should be doing. We wrote answers on our papers and passed them to Dr. Woodson at the end of the allotted period.

“Now I will read your answers aloud and grade the papers,” said Dr. Woodson.

“The first one says, ‘Your Lunch,’’ Dr. Woodson said. “F!” He went through a few more papers that said things like, air, some pens, and a few more lunch responses. All F!

Finally, Dr. Woodson found a response that made him smile.

“Finally,” he said. “This paper says, ‘Pink Cadillac.’ A!”

I will always remember that exercise because it made me think differently. I may never be a famous author or see my work hanging in the Guggenheim, but I will strive to be creative in every endeavor. And I plan to teach my kids to do the same.

Stay Strong,

Questions: How do you encourage your kids to be creative? Did anyone ever nurture your creativity?

Photo by Wired_GR via Flickr

It’s back to school time and like many parents, I’m scrambling to make sure my kids are prepared. But while I was shopping for school supplies, going to parent orientations, and finding the perfect backpack, I started to reminisce on last year.

It was my kids’ first year in public school and they managed to make a smooth transition. In addition to the reading, writing, and arithmetic, my kids, Nee and N, picked up a few more lessons. Here are the top ten things that they learned:

1. Kids Eat Their Boogers
   Nee was mortified when she witnessed one of her classmates stick a finger up his nose and devour the haul. I assured her that kids have been eating their boogers for generations. In fact, I witnessed my first booger eater in third grade. His name was Corby and I will never forget how my stomach turned after watching him chomp on his nose candy. Nee looked at me with a pensive glance, “Maybe Corby is my classmate’s dad,” she said.
2. Teachers Yell
   On the first day of school, I met my N’s kindergarten teacher. She seemed friendly, enthusiastic, and filled with a love for teaching. When I picked N up later that day, I asked him if he liked his new teacher. He said, “She’s nice, but she yells too much.” I thought N was exaggerating until I went to the school to read to his class. I entered the classroom to find the teacher barking at the kids like a drill instructor. Her demeanor changed as soon as she noticed me. She smiled and started speaking in a soft, loving voice. After I left, I heard the drill instructor return. I asked N what he thought of all the yelling. He hunched his shoulders and said, “You get used to it.”
3. Students Cheat
   Before Nee attended public school, she attended a private Christian school. The school held the kids to a strict moral code and cheating was grounds for expulsion. One day, Nee was in class quietly doing her work when she heard a classmate whisper her name.
   “Nee,” said the girl. “Let me see what you have for number five.”
   “I’m not telling you the answer,” Nee responded covering her paper with arm.
   “If you don’t let me see your paper, I won’t be your friend,” said the girl.
   “I don’t care,” said Nee. “Just leave me alone.”
   When Nee told me the story, I let her know that I was proud of her for doing the right thing.
   “But I still can’t believe that she tried to cheat,” said Nee.
   “This won’t be the first time that you will witness cheating,” I told her. “But I expect you to always earn your grades the right way – by studying and working hard.”
   She smiled at me and said, “I will, Daddy. I promise.”
4. Boys Play Rough
   The first week of school, N came home every day complaining that the boys were being mean to him. As I delved deeper, he explained that the boys always tackled him on the playground.
   “Did the boys at your pre-school ever tackle you?” I asked.
   “Well, they tried,” he said. “But I was too fast for them.”
   “So how do you think you can keep them from tackling you at your new school?” I asked.
   “I guess I’d better start running faster,” he said.
5. Some Rich Kids Are Jerks
   “Daddy,” Nee said one night at dinner. “Are we rich?”
   “No, we aren’t rich,” I said. “Why do you ask?”
   “Because Zachary said that rich kids like him don’t have to study,” she said.
   “Really,” I said.
   “Yeah,” she replied. “He said that his dad owns many businesses and that he doesn’t need to learn because his dad buys him whatever he wants. And he tries to make us feel bad because we don’t live in a mansion.”
   “Well, don’t let Zachary bother you,” I said. “With his attitude, he won’t be rich for long.”
6. You Can Turn an Enemy Into a Friend
   N is an easy-going fellow who makes friends easily. However, he met a boy in his class who became his nemesis (his word). N and the boy quickly went about the business of recruiting classmates to be on their sides. N discovered that the other boy was more successful in his recruiting efforts and was able to amass an army that would overpower his team (again, his words). Realizing that he was out-gunned, N decided to form an alliance with his nemesis. Surprising, the boy accepted and together they peacefully ruled kindergarten as friends.
7. School Lunch is Gross
   One night, after we had placed the kids to bed, Nee came downstairs with tears in her eyes.
   “Daddy,” she said sobbing.
   “Please don’t make me buy lunch tomorrow.
   “Why not?” I asked.
   “Because it is so gross,” she said.
   Since Nee has a penchant for the dramatic, I disregarded her statement and sent her back to bed.
   A few weeks later, when I was at the school, I decided to try the lunch. One bite into it and I almost starting crying. I never made her buy lunch again.
8. Third Grade is Competitive
   Last year, Nee managed to make it through the entire year with all As. Although she worked hard, two competitive classmates pushed her to excel. She was always comparing her grades to John’s and Lisa’s. Whenever they had a test, I got a report on who was in first, second and third place. I tried not to encourage the competition by telling Nee that I only wanted her to do her best. But Nee remained determine to get the highest grades.
   “I just want to show them I’m the smartest,” she said.
9. Kindergarten is Much Harder Than Preschool
   One day, when I arrived home from work, N and I had this conversation:
   “How was work, Daddy?” Asked N. I was caught off guard by his question because he rarely asks about my day.
   “Work was fine today,” I said. “I was really busy.”
   “Me too,” said N.
   “Really,” I said. “What kept you so busy?”
   “I had SO much work to do,” he said. “I had to write some words, play, read a book, and do some hard math.”
   “Hard math?” I asked.
   “Yeah,” he replied. “I had to count ALL the way to 100.”
   “Wow!” I said. “Kindergarteners have it SO hard.”
   “I know,” he said.
10. A Great Teacher Makes All the Difference
    Nee and N were able to have successful school year because of their teachers. Nee’s teacher, Mrs. Scott, pushed her to excel and to get out of her comfort zone. Because of Mrs. Scott’s encouragement, Nee ran for student Council, entered the Spelling Bee, and earned art and academic achievement awards. And although N’s teacher did yell, she managed to display care and concern. When I asked N about his concerns about the new school year he told me that he was afraid that he’d have a mean teacher.
    “I just want someone nice like Mrs. Rightmayer,” he said.

Stay Strong,

Question: What have your kids learned at school beyond the regular curriculum?

KayEm told me to leave the house earlier, but I disregarded her advice because I’m a seasoned traveler.

My heart stopped as I entered the highway and saw the traffic backed up for miles. I could hear KayEm’s voice in my head, “You should have left earlier…”

I managed to get around the traffic, but my detour didn’t help. When I arrived at the airline desk, the agent at the counter told me that I had just missed the cut-off point for checking in for international flights. Rats!

“I’ll be glad to book you on the next flight,” she offered.

“When is it?” I asked.

“It will leave in six hours,” she said.

“Six hours?” I was aggravated, but it was my own fault. “Go ahead and book it.”

“That’ll be $75.00,” she said. “Which credit card will you use?” Great! I handed over my credit card. She booked the flight and gave me my boarding passes.

“What about my bag?” I asked.

“I can’t check it now,” she said. “You’ll have to come back in an hour.” Wonderful!

I returned in an hour, only to find the airline counter empty. I waited 45 minutes before someone showed up. After the agent checked my bag, I was finally ready to hurry up and wait for my flight.

I was getting a little bit hungry so I sought some food. The choices in the terminal were limited so I settled on McDonald’s. Bad choice! After eating the meal, I felt as if I someone kicked me in the gut. Thankfully, the bookstore across the hall sold antacids ($1.49).

With my stomach settled, I sat down to pass the time on the internet. Because my home airport doesn’t have free Wi-Fi, I had to pay $7.95 for a Boingo account.Ouch!

After wasting six hours and nearly $100.00, one thing became clear: Always listen to your wife.

Stay Strong,

One morning at breakfast, my wife, KayEm, was teaching my daughter Nee about matter. As they discussed the concept, Nee provided some concrete examples of matter. KayEm was pleased by Nee’s mastery of the topic and continued explaining the three states of matter.

My son, N, upset that he wasn’t grasping the concept, decided to ask a direct question.

“Excuse me, Mommy” interjected N. “What did you say matter was?”

Nee chuckled. “You don’t know what matter is?” Her question was uttered with a snarky tone that caused her brother to blurt out an answer in order to save face.

“Be nice, Nee,” KayEm said sternly. “He’s only in kindergarten.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Nee said. “He won’t learn about matter until he’s in third grade.”

“Of course, you could tell him what it is right now,” KayEm said.

“No I can’t,” protested Nee.

“Why not?” KayEm asked.

“Because I don’t want him to be smarter than me,” Nee said.

“I’m almost taller than you,” N said trying to get a rise out of his sister. Nee growled and kicked her brother under the table.

“Nee,” KayEm said. “I told you to be nice to your brother.”

“But I don’t want him to be taller than me or smarter than me,” said Nee. She grew more upset and started giving her brother the evil eye.

“Nee,” said KayEm trying to reassure our hot-headed daughter. “It’s not a competition.” Nee looked at KayEm as if she were speaking another language.

“It is a competition, Mommy” exclaimed Nee. “And I want to be the winner so please don’t teach N about matter.” Nee hunched over her bowl and shoved spoonfuls of of Cookie Crisp into her mouth. After a few minutes, Nee stopped eating and turned towards her brother.

“And you’d better not Google it either.”

Stay Strong,

Question: How do you deal with your kids’ sibling rivalry?

It was a hair emergency that brought us to the American Girl Store in Dallas, TX.

While the clothes, books and dolls were nice, the real reason for our visit was simple: Nee’s 2-year-old doll needed a hair intervention. After a couple of years of being braided and re-braided, the poor doll’s hair was a knotted mess. The sheen and soft crinkles that prompted me to purchase the doll were long gone. If $10 could restore that luster, I was willing to spend it.

We picked a hair style and watched as grown women fastened a styling drape around the doll’s shoulders before gently placing her into a miniature stylist’s chair. It was going to take a while to get the doll back into shape, so Nee and I began to look around.

We had reviewed the rules before we left home. I’d pay for the doll’s new hair style and Nee would buy a pair of replacement glasses for the doll. That was all we were spending, I said. Unfortunately my will power was no match for the money making behemoth that is the American Girl Store. Everything from cute outfits to the extensive “self-help” book section screamed: buy me.

“Just don’t tell your dad how much all this stuff cost,” I told Nee as we approached the bubbly cashier with two books, a doll outfit, glasses, and the bill for the doll’s new hair style.

“OK, I’ll hide my bag from Daddy,” she responded.

“No, it’s okay. He’ll understand,” I assured her, but I was still a bit nervous about telling Fred about how much we spent during our shopping spree. But when I looked at Nee’s smiling at her freshly styled doll, all of my apprehension disappeared.

The hour Nee and I spent in the American Girl Store allowed us to recapture some of her little girl innocence. It was a safe place  to play with dolls, pick ribbons, make crafts, and hang out with mom.

Suddenly, all of the money we spent seemed like a bargain.

Stay Strong,

KayEm

KayEm is Mocha Dad’s lovely wife. She also writes the blog Making It Last Forever.

Mocha Dad and Moms is a monthly column where a mom and I give our points-of-view on a parenting topic. This month’s featured mom is Carma.

Defeating Fear by Blogging, Dancing, and Juggling

Five years ago, my son decided to learn to juggle. He was often discouraged and frustrated when he didn’t master a new technique. Through it all, I was there to be a sounding board and to give him the encouragement he needed to push through the difficult times. I wanted him to learn that the road to success is paved with many small failures along the way.

Fear of failure is something I’ve struggled with since childhood. I avoided trying new things or joining many groups during my middle and high school years because I was afraid I wouldn’t succeed. However, in the past few years, I made a pledge to myself to throw caution to the wind and to start trying some new things, including areas in which I deliberately thought I would not be successful.

One of my biggest challenges was starting a blog. It was difficult at first and I was afraid that no one would respond to it. But I kept plugging away and grew more confident in my ability to write in a way that would connect with people. Occasionally I see my son sitting down at the computer reading the blog and laughing here and there. Even though he knows my blog is not one of the best ones out there, he is impressed that I have the guts to keep publishing it.

I further challenged myself by taking a Belly Dancing Class. Am I the best dancer in the class? Far from it!! In fact, the instructor placed me in the second to last row during our recital in April. My son knows I’m a little insecure about my dancing, yet after the last show, he exclaimed, “The best part was that I could say, ‘hey, that’s my mom up there!’” Which, of course, made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

In an act of solidarity with my son, I also took up juggling. When I decided to learn to juggle, my son was consistently juggling 7 balls, 6 rings and 5 clubs. Obviously, I had a lot of catching up to do. He noticed that I was struggling with a basic three ball juggling pattern, and suggested I learn to bounce juggle, which he felt I would find easier. He was right. Now we are the self-proclaimed bounce juggling State Record Holders (simply because we do not know of many other bounce jugglers in the state).

From blogging, to belly dancing, to bounce juggling, I’ve been able to get a taste of failure, mixed in with the occasional sweetness of success. Because I was willing to make a fool of myself, my son is more willing to try new things. And that’s a lesson that will stick with him for a lifetime.

Carma writes the blog Carma Sez. She has now taken up Curling.

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Baseball Has Been Very, Very Good to Me

Baseball and I never got along. I was never a good player and I can’t stand to watch it on TV. Naturally, my 6-year old son decided that he wanted to join a team.

After my attempts to talk him out of it failed, I begrudgingly signed him up. I planned to passively sit on the sideline and watch the season pass by. But my plan unfurled during the first practice.

Before I could take my spot on the bleachers, the league’s commissioner recruited me to be an assistant coach. Although I really wanted to decline the position, I didn’t want to disappoint my son. I reluctantly accepted, and trotted on to the field to assist with the drills.

We paired up the kids and had them practice throwing and catching. I noticed that N was throwing the ball wildly and missing every ball that came his way.

“Pay attention, N,” I yelled across the field. He nodded gently and continued his drill.

I tried to focus on the other kids, but my son’s lack of skill kept me distracted. He continued to throw and catch poorly.

When I couldn’t take it anymore, I marched over to N and squeezed his shoulder.

“What is wrong with you son?” I asked firmly. “Why can’t you focus and throw the call straight?”

He looked at me with fear in his eyes.

“I’ll do better,” he said.

Later that night at bedtime, N stood before me with the most forlorn look on his face.

“Daddy,” he said.

“Yes, son,” I replied.

“Why were you so mean to me today at practice?” he asked. Warm tears trickled down his face and soon he was sobbing uncontrollably.

My heart broke as I watched my son cry. I pulled him close to me and apologized profusely for causing his so much anguish. Instead of encouraging him, I crushed his spirit. I had not provided a safe place for him to fail.

I wiped the tears from his face and tucked him in bed. I told him about my failures on the baseball field when I was a kid.

“I only wanted you to be a better player than I was,” I said. “But I put too much pressure on you. Just go out and have fun and daddy will be proud of you.”

He smiled and gave me another hug.

Although I patched things up with him, I still had a lesson to learn.

At the first game, the head coach asked me to pitch. I hadn’t pitched a baseball since I was 9-years old, but I figured pitching to a group of 6 and 7 year olds would be no big deal.

As I took my first pitch, I quickly realized that pitching isn’t as easy as it looks. I sucked. Some of the pitches were several feet short of the plate; others were about a mile outside; and I may have hit one or two kids.

Over the next few weeks, my pitching seemed to get worse and I started to dread the games. I’m a bit of a perfectionist and my poor performance on the mound started to affect my confidence. I hoped for rainouts, alien abductions, or zombie attacks – anything that would prevent me from having to embarrass myself.

My pitching was so bad that some of the parents started heckling me from the stands. Right then, I knew exactly how N felt when I used harsh words with him and I remembered the words to spoke to him: “Just go out and have fun.”

Coincidentally, N was the next batter after the heckling incident. I took a deep breath and carefully threw the ball across the plate. N swung and missed.

“That’s okay, son,” I said. “You can do it.”

I tossed another ball through the air and N connected with it. I smiled as he ran to first base.

That play allowed us to focus on the moment and freed us both from the fear failure.

Stay strong,

Question: How do you help your kids deal with fear of failure?

“Good night, pretty princess,” I told my daughter as I tucked her into bed.

“Good night, Daddy,” she said as she kissed me on the cheek.

“Do you know you’re the prettiest girl in the world?” I asked.

“Yes, I know,” she said.

“How do you know?” I asked.

“Because you told me so,” she said.

Stay Strong,

One of the most rewarding times as a father is when I get to spend one-on-one time with my children. Since I have three children, it is not always easy to give each child the individual attention he or she deserves. A walk with my 2-year old son, X, taught me just how precious these moments really are.

When I opened the front door, X darted outside to the sidewalk. I directed him through the gate to our neighborhood walking path and we commenced our stroll. X started off tentatively because we usually place him in the stroller when we take a walk. I guess he was trying to make sure that his freedom was real before going all out.

It didn’t take him long to start taking confident strides and exploring his surroundings. I, on the other hand, paid no attention to my surroundings because I was too engrossed by the tweets that were streaming across my phone’s screen.

“Leaf!” X yelled and snapped me out of my social media trance. I suddenly realized that I was allowing a special moment slip away because I wasn’t fully present. I slid my phone in my pocket and focused on my son.

“Yes, it is a leaf,” I said. “They fall from the trees.” I pointed at the row of trees that lined the path. X looked and me and then back at the leaf.

“Leaf,” he said before stomping it. He ran ahead a few feet and stomped on another leaf. He did this a few more times until he looked up in the sky and saw a crescent shaped moon.

“MOON!” he yelled.

“Yes, there’s the moon,” I said. I squatted next to X and pointed to the sky. “Look at the stars around the moon.”

He pointed and smiled then started walking again. We continued along the path until we encountered a rabbit.

“Cat,” said X. I chuckled as the rabbit ran into the bushes.

“That wasn’t a cat,” I explained. “That was a rabbit.”

“Rabbit?” he asked.

“Yes, rabbits go bouncy, bouncy and cats go meow,” I said. He still looked confused so we moved on.

When we reached the park, I grabbed his hand and lead him to the playground. He played on the jungle gym a few times and then pointed to the swings.

“You want Daddy to push you on the swing?” I asked.

“Yes,” he replied.

As I pushed him higher and higher X’s peals of laughter permeated the cool night air and filled my heart with waves of joy.

Stay Strong,

Questions: How do you give each of your children special attention? What did your parents do for you?