A Dad's Point of View: Am I A Selfish Parent?

It’s high time I wrote a column that stirs some reaction, creates some controversy, and isn’t so sweet and nice. No gratitude for surviving what should have been a deadly car crash, no treatises on the values of volunteering, or even about the importance of spending more quantity time with your kids. After all, this is a man’s point-of-view, not some touchy-feely new age guru. Look at the magazine rack at your local bookstore. The women’s section is literally full, while the men’s section mostly consists of magazines about cars, motorcycles, or supermen who climb ridiculously high mountains without oxygen. We won’t even talk about daytime television where Oprah and Ellen dominate. I don’t count Dr. Phil, for obvious reasons.

So, what is it that is so different and might rankle some of my by now loyal readers and fans (I can dream, can’t I)? It’s simply the notion that sometimes parents must think of themselves and be selfish. This applies, in my opinion and observance, most especially to stressed single moms whose ex’s participate little or not at all, much as my situation was till I was blessed to meet ShortRib (my nickname for my wife) and re-marry. Frankly, either due to the fact I am a man or maybe an inherent selfish slug, I never suffered from this problem. I managed to find time for myself and the needs of the boys.

The light bulb on this issue lit up on a recent ski trip with ShortRib, Jughead (my younger son) and I. GuitarHero (my older son) continues his teenage rebellious ways and chooses to find a friend to stay with versus suffer going skiing for the weekend.

JugHead, who has been in this altitude many times before, got a pretty bad nosebleed on Saturday morning, just before we were heading out to ski. Both ShortRib and I took turns helping him, but the amount of bleeding was definitely excessive as was his panicky reaction. I called the local hospital and they gave us instructions on how to stem the flow of blood and when and if we’d need to bring him to the ER. We held his nose tightly, from the top to the bottom, for over 30 minutes and, finally, the bleeding and hysteria stopped. Sadly, JugHead is a bit of a drama-king whenever any pain (or a shot) is involved. ShortRib, being the nurturing woman, gives in to that while I’m trying to teach him to tough it out.

But, thankfully, it did stop and his upbeat, normal mood, instantly returned. The day was gorgeous, but it was clear he and we didn’t want to chance his skiing, in case it happened again. I suggested that ShortRib and I alternate going to the slopes so we didn’t each miss out on skiing, our mutual passion, and JugHead would not be alone. She was adamant that she wouldn’t go, but that I could. I begged her to reconsider, but she wouldn’t. So, I went and checked in every little while. After only 45 minutes on the mountain, she calls and, almost in a panic herself, tells me to hurry back as it began again and he was freaking out. She said JugHead wanted to go home immediately.

I rushed back (which was not easy) only to find he was calmer and the bleeding had stopped again. This time, however, I gave him a relatively stern talk on being a man, learning to deal with some pain, as there will be some pain in life. I gave him examples of my own and his grandpa, who endured hellish pain for various reasons, stoically, throughout his life. JugHead calmed down. I explained that running away would only teach him how not to deal with life’s crises.

Again, I suggested to ShortRib that she go skiing and we alternate. Again, she refused. I went back and had a great couple more hours, again checking in regularly. All was fine, and JugHead was busy playing on the computer, reading, eating, and watching various DVDs. The next day we all went skiing. Upon our return home, I took him to the specialist who examined his nose and saw a healing blood vessel that apparently broke, either due to the altitude or JugHead blowing his nose too hard, but the upshot was there was no problem.

We give in to our children’s whims and complaints too easily. Sometimes, we as parents need to take care of our needs. I needed the break of a ski weekend; so did ShortRib. She chose to be over-the-board careful and I chose to be, what some might say, selfish (remember, she’s a new mom, with our marriage, and had no previous experience parenting while I’d lived, mostly alone, through many similar traumas and was more relaxed about it).

Parents need their time away from their kids; whether it be a regular date night (which so often is planned and cancelled for superficial reasons among couples I know) or separate vacations together. Yes, separate vacations (from the kids), too. Of course it’s more difficult for the single parent, but most single parents have either family or friends that can take care of the kids when they go out for an occasional evening or go away for a needed restful or active weekend. Okay, you can now send me those I’m out-of-my-mind letters. I’m ready.

Please visit www.brucesallan.com to contact Bruce and to enjoy the various features his new Web site offers, including a unique Ask Bruce For Advice section, an archive of his columns, contact info, links to his published work, photo galleries, and reader comments, plus much more. Bruce Sallan was an award-winning television executive and producer for 25 years. Google him if you really want to know more (e.g. his credits). When his boys were quite young, Bruce left show biz to become a full-time Dad. Shortly thereafter his marriage ended and his wife abandoned their children, leaving the State. Bruce found himself a full-time single Dad, in his late forties, as well as a returning single man to the changed world of cyber-dating. It became a classic “sandwich” situation when he also began to care for his ailing parents. He began writing various blogs on the dating sites he used as well as articles for local publications. The goal of his column, A Dad’s Point-of-View, is to primarily focus on parenting and occasionally other issues from the male perspective. Presently, his column is available in over 50 newspapers and Web sites in the U.S. and internationally. Bruce lives in Agoura, California with his second (and last) wife and two boys, who are 15 and 12.

Notes from a crazy SA

The following entry is from Gina, the Co-Site Admin (SA) of SLOCountyMommies (SLOCM).

"I don't know how you do all you do" I get that a lot. I suspect there's a bit of "Are you crazy? Why do you do all that?" in there. LOL. My answer has been "I don't know either." The real answer is, I probably don't do as much as you think. We do what we love to do and what we really have to do. We have priorities and sometimes things get done and sometimes they don't. I hope you don't think my house is spotless and all my laundry is clean and put away. I hope you don't think I pay attention to my kids 24/7, wake up at the crack of dawn with them and don't get to sleep until 1 or 2 am and still get stuff done. Nope, I have help. I'm only a CO-SA, which means Jeanne and I split the SA work. Good thing most of the time we're totally on the same page! I don't get up with my kids in the morning. My dear husband (DH) gets up with them and lets me sleep until he has to leave. That way, I'm able to get stuff done late at night when the house is quiet. I'm lucky in some ways, unlucky in others - my DH doesn't get home until between 8 and 10 every week night. My daughter is in pre-school 3 days a week - all day. I usually have a pile or piles of laundry that is clean, but not put away. I suck at house cleaning and I hate to do it. I sometimes flake on stuff because I forgot, got distracted, or whatever. Yeah, I'm not the most organized person and I do suffer from "Mommy Brain." I have a business partner to help me with my business. So, I do a lot, yes, but I have help and I do what I have a passion for.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not a total flake. My kids get play time, get fed, clothed, and bathed. My house isn't a TOTAL pig sty (usually). I do have a home business that is pretty successful and, of course, I do spend lots and lots of time working on SLOCM. So, why do I spend so much time and effort on SLOCM? For the huge paycheck! Just kidding, we are all volunteers. No, it's because I like the feeling that I'm part of something that really helps people. What's the big deal, you ask? What does SLOCM do for people other than helping people make friends? Well, let me tell you what it has done for me, what SLOCM's have done for me...

* brought me dinners
* babysat my children
* saved me money
* lowered my utility bills
* helped me get stains out
* given me recipies
* given my DD a pet rat
* save my sanity
* taught me how to be "greener"
* had fun with me
* bought from me
* sold to me
* referred me to a plumber; housecleaner; barber; awsome pediatrician; gymnastics, dance, parent participation classes
* and parenting classes
* lent me items
* given me baby/kid clothes
* made me feel normal for certain things I do or think
* told me about great family events
* gotten me out of the house
* given me adult conversation
* prayed for me
* introduced me to many parks I would have never visited otherwise
* helped me to get free stuff
* taught me how to be more supportive to other moms
* made me laugh
* inspired me
* vacuumed my house when I was just out of the hospital
* showed me how to wear a baby wrap
* helped me organize
* helped my business
* taught me about couponing
* taught me about medical conditions in children before they even happened to us
* given me a place to gripe
* given me a place to use my adult brain
* introduced me to some truely wonderful women!
* ...and probably a lot more.


So I figure, if I've gotten so much out of SLOCM, and I help other moms with some of these things, then how much as a whole is the group doing to help people? That's what I like about putting effort into SLOCM. If we help moms, we help kids and whole families. If we're helping families, we're helping the community.

Yes, you can get the same things other places. There are large families, churches, social services, friends, but times have changed so much since the days when almost all women stayed home and had children.

Imagine living in a neighborhood where almost every house had a SAHM. You could send your kids out to play running around the streets and going over to each other's houses. No email to check, no voicemail, no cell phones, text messages, facebook, limited TV, nothing to suck your time. If you needed advice, you called your mom or sister or maybe they even live with you or near you. You went next door for coffee with the SAHM next door. Life was easier in some ways and harder in others but one thing is for sure - there was more connection to other mothers at one time.

So how do we get real, up to date advice these days? How do we get companionship and conversation with moms who know what it is like and have been there or are in the there now? Who do we ask about the challenges of being a stay at home mom, work at home mom, or work out of home mom? Where do we get friends to walk with, pushing strollers, visit the "best" parks, cry to? Most of us can't go next door because families are spread out more now and neighbors are disconnected and in different stages of life. Through SLOCM, I've found friends that don't live right next door (except one) but many of them live close and we can communicate 24/7 on SLOCM.

I can post about my child's rash when it happens Saturday morning on a holiday weekend when the pediatrician is closed. Not only will I get advice from a mom, I can get advice from several moms. None of us is an expert when it comes to ALL children, but all of us together can help solve all kinds of issues. My point is, it's a great resource for me and for so many other moms. I do it because I love to do it and I want to help make it the best group it can be. So, get out there and help another mommy in one way or another. Offer advice, be friendly to a new mom at a playgroup, make a phone call, bring a meal, join a committee! Doing just one thing to help other moms is worth it.

Gina is the Co-Site Admin for SLOCountyMommies.com in CA and runs www.YellBaby.com

Happy 4th Birthday to The Mommies Network!

Today is The Mommies Network's fourth birthday! It's hard to believe we've been around as an organization for four years already.

As of today, The Mommies Network currently operates 95 website communities across 28 states. We currently have 29,618 active members nationwide, including 150 who joined in the last 24 hours.

WOW! We appreciate all of our volunteers who have helped us grow and make an impact on their local communities. It's amazing to think of all the lives TMN has touched! Thank you all for being part of our network!

A Dad's Point of View: African Reflections, Part Two - The Cat and the Hat

One of the most endearing experiences we had on our African safari and honeymoon was no, not all the mating animals we coincidentally encountered, but a playful incident among lion cubs. As I mentioned in Part One of my African Reflections, we were fortunate to find the same lioness we had witnessed earlier during her mating. After finishing those obligations and, starving, she had made a kill and was eager to eat. Her pride of cubs and fellow lionesses began following her but it became evident she was not going to share (common after they’ve not eaten, during mating, for a full week). So, the pride just lay down in the tall grass and licked and played with each other in a wonderful jumble of paws, tongues, and bodies each on top of another, amid general relaxation and playfulness.

The Land Rovers we were in had both open windows and removable sunroofs, from which we often stood to get the best view. In this case, we watched the unfolding drama of the lioness eating her first meal in a week, her sulking male mate of the previous 7 days sulking in the distance, and her pride still hoping for a loose piece of meat. Our guide put us almost literally in the middle of the pride and this extraordinary drama.

As I stood up, through the sunroof, to shoot more of the eventual 2,200 photos I ended up taking, a gust of wind caught my safari hat and blew it adjacent to the front wheel of our Land Rover. I loved that hat so, I immediately asked the guide if I could quickly go out and retrieve it. Mortified, he said an emphatic no. I asked if we could just move forward a few feet and, maybe, I could reach down for it. The answer remained the same staunch refusal.

So, we watched, and I sulked. Moments later, a lion cub gingerly came right next to the vehicle and took my precious hat in its jaws. Almost instantly, the cubs had a new game; tug-of-war and keep-away. We watched, in sidesplitting, painful laughter, as my hat flew from cub to cub, at times the only thing visible flying above the high grass. This was counter-pointed by the savage sounds of the hungry lioness, ripping apart her meal, her lazy mate milling about doing nothing, and was a sober reminder that animals in the wild are just that, wild.

Now, I suppose you’re going to say this is a reach, as I work to tie in stories from my wonderful African adventure with parenting. But, indulge me anyway. This tug-of-war is the quintessential struggle between siblings of all species. Especially my boys, GuitarHero (my 15-year old) and Jughead (my 12-year-old). I will ultimately devote a specific column to sibling rivalry, but this one will focus on the insidious way in which my boys, as so many others given this is such an ubiquitous situation, play one parent against the other. In our case, even their new step-mom, who you might think wouldn’t have the same cache as their good ol’ dad.

But, play us against one another they do. With canny manipulation and subtlety. We, being the naïve ones, often believe them when they say, “Oh, Dad said it was okay,” or “Short-Rib (my wife) was fine with it.” Yeah, and we also believe in the tooth fairy and the stock and real estate markets recovering at the end of this year. Wishful thinking, for sure. But, parents want to be loved just as much as their children, so we often just can’t see straight when it’s out own kids while we’re experts with our friend’s children.

GuitarHero is the best as he mostly ignores Short-Rib, except when he’s not getting satisfaction from me. By now, she’s wise to it, but can’t help, in the new role of step-mom, thinking at first that he’s really reaching out and wanting a connection. It’s like when he used to say, “Dad, I really want you to hear this new song,” when I’m taking him to or from school, and I actually believed he cared about my opinion vs. was just using that flattery to get me to play his music, which quickly went on to other unintelligible death or metal rock garbage. Why are we, who are the closest, almost always the most oblivious?

We’ve discovered, finally, the obvious. Compare notes. Stay on the same page. Back one another. But, often, in the moment we forget. And, we must make sure out boys know when we’ve caught them playing this game. Oh, the many wiles of children. Will I ever learn? Or will I just write about it and smugly watch others make the same mistake, sitting back and judging them while the rooster crows at home. I’ll probably have it down, maybe, by the time they’re living on their own and I’m fortunate enough to hopefully have grandchildren.

Please visit www.brucesallan.com to contact Bruce and to enjoy the various features his new Web site offers, including a unique Ask Bruce For Advice section, an archive of his columns, contact info, links to his published work, photo galleries, and reader comments, plus much more. Bruce Sallan was an award-winning television executive and producer for 25 years. Google him if you really want to know more (e.g. his credits). When his boys were quite young, Bruce left show biz to become a full-time Dad. Shortly thereafter his marriage ended and his wife abandoned their children, leaving the State. Bruce found himself a full-time single Dad, in his late forties, as well as a returning single man to the changed world of cyber-dating. It became a classic “sandwich” situation when he also began to care for his ailing parents. He began writing various blogs on the dating sites he used as well as articles for local publications. The goal of his column, A Dad’s Point-of-View, is to primarily focus on parenting and occasionally other issues from the male perspective. Presently, his column is available in over 50 newspapers and Web sites in the U.S. and internationally. Bruce lives in Agoura, California with his second (and last) wife and two boys, who are 15 and 12.

One Armed Wonder

It's amazing how much you can do with only one arm, or hand, at any given moment of the day. My daughter has been going through a phase, since birth actually, where she refuses to be put down for a good majority of the day. Since she is almost always occupying one arm I tend to rely heavily on the other. I found out that there are multiple things I am able to accomplish during the day in this manner.

I can vacuum the house. The stairs are a little trickier and tend to require a lot of moving my poor baby around from one hip to the other but it is manageable, My daughter doesn't always appreciate the fact that she is hanging upside down or that she is barely hanging on at all at times but it gets the job done. I can clean the dishes from time to time. Mostly I just rinse and then throw the dirty dishes in the dishwasher but there are times when I spin a bowl round and round in the sink with a sponge until it looks clean enough to get past my husband. Dusting is especially easy with only one free arm. All I have to do is walk around the house and my daughter will reach out her hand and find a spot that needs to get dusted. She points it out, I follow behind with a rag.

Then there is the task of cooking. I am a pretty big wimp so I rarely use a knife while holding my daughter but if I am in a hurry than I will throw everything into the food processor and hope that it will all come out to the consistency I need. Most of the time it becomes mush and my husband asks why we are having soup again. I have started resorting to frozen cut vegetables and canned everything. Other than that, I use my free hand to turn the oven on, throw food into a pot and stir occasionally. It's really a good thing I can't bake because I am not sure I would be able to do that with only one arm.

My favorite thing to do with one arm is to hold my daughter while the other arm does what it has to do to get through the day. Yea, I get tired of carrying her everywhere but I can't imagine it any other way. It's nice to know that she loves me enough to want to be with me all day still because I know that will not last forever. So, even though my biceps ache and I there are days when I feel like I can do nothing else, just know that underneath all that complaining I couldn't be more thrilled to hold my baby in my arms.

Melissa Liipfert is the mother of a wildly active one year old, a playgroup junkie and member of the AtlantaAreaMommies. You can view her blog at: www.lilbitofthat.com.

A Dad's Point of View: African Reflections, Part One - The Lion Mates Tonight

ShortRib (my wife) and I went on our honeymoon, shortly after getting married at the end of last year. It was an exotic trip and one we wouldn’t have undertaken, given the subsequent economic collapse, had we not already paid for the trip (which was non-refundable). We were thoroughly excited, with my only concern being leaving GuitarHero (my 15-year-old) and JugHead (my 12-year-old) with an adult friend, for so long, with us so far away.

The lessons we all learned and the experiences proved, as is so often the case, beyond anything we anticipated. Our honeymoon consisted of two parts; the first was a safari in the Masai Mara Game Preserve in Kenya and the second, a cruise in The Seychilles Islands (Madagasgar, Assumption Island, Meyotte, Mahe and others). The Mara’s 1,510 square kilometers of open savannah, woodlands, and tree-lined rivers create an eco-system, which supports huge numbers of lions, often in prides, elephant, giraffe, a variety of gazelle species, zebra, cheetah, and many others. The rivers support crocodiles and hippos in abundance.

However, what you see is unlike Disneyland’s choreographed Jungle Cruise. Patience, luck, weather, the time of year, and the skill of the guides determine your sightings. We traveled in Land Rovers, which had removable sunroofs and windows that left us often feeling dangerously exposed. We were beyond fortunate by encountering several prides of lions, herds of zebras, antelope, various gazelles, elephants, a cheetah and her two cubs, plus so much more.

Given it was our honeymoon; we were also surprised to encounter several different species in the throes of mating. We saw turtles do it; antelopes do it, and a pair of lions doing it. Isn’t there a Cole Porter song in there somewhere? But, by far, the most entertaining and ultimately ironic lovers we saw were the pair of lions. The guide explained that they mate many times a day, for seven days in a row, during which time they’re not eating.

Seeing these mating animals had the unexpected effect of reminding me that I had a job to do, at home, in having part two of the sex-talk with GuitarHero. A while ago, he asked if he could begin dating. When I asked him what dating meant to him, he didn’t have an answer. Further, when I asked him if he knew the risks and rewards, both emotionally and health-wise of intimate relations, he gave me that typical teenage embarrassed look, combined with the of-course-I-know-it-all expression.

I realized I was now in big trouble. We had to have “the talk.” But, times have changed. My Dad took me to a BBQ joint, I even remember the sawdust on the floor, when I was a young teen and awkwardly tried to explain the birds-and-the-bees to me. I really didn’t have a clue before or after, what he was talking about. For that matter, I’m still trying to figure it out.

Kids today think they know more, but do they? So, I decided GuitarHero and I would have a two-part conversation, as I realized there were really two important components to the talk. One, being the emotional and the extremely different impact and resulting expectations that boys and girls bring to sexual intimacy. The other talk dealing with what I term the mechanics and risks.

The lions seemed to have their own dance, so to speak, but it was clear the different role each gender carried. I needed and wanted my son to respect that the girls may behave in a way to elicit the boy’s approval and attention while, for the boy, it may have less meaning and importance. To me, this was as important as discussing the mechanics, birth control, and the risks associated with heading down this path. I wasn’t particularly worried my son would be as indifferent as the male lion, but I was concerned that he’d care for the emotional impact of any intimacy he had with a teen girl. And, we did have that talk a few months back.

Bringing this story to full circle, we encountered the same lioness the next day. Evidently her tour-of-duty of seven days of mating had ended. Starving, she had just made a kill and was carrying, in her mouth, a dead warthog. In the distance, her mate of the previous seven days, was lingering, hoping for a tidbit. And, in the animal kingdom, it was clear the male lion paid no attention to the needs or wants of his mate. She had to fend for herself after their rendezvous. As a result, her interest in him was nil.

Hopefully, my teen will do a better job of taking care of his woman, if and when he gets one. But, now with some further inspiration from my animal friends over in Africa, I will finally have to have Part Two of the talk. You see, I chickened out.

Check out this link, for a good laugh, that slightly relates to this week’s column:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oUMwu_gXK7Q

Please visit www.brucesallan.com to contact Bruce and to enjoy the various features his new Web site offers, including a unique Ask Bruce For Advice section, an archive of his columns, contact info, links to his published work, photo galleries, and reader comments, plus much more. Bruce Sallan was an award-winning television executive and producer for 25 years. Google him if you really want to know more (e.g. his credits). When his boys were quite young, Bruce left show biz to become a full-time Dad. Shortly thereafter his marriage ended and his wife abandoned their children, leaving the State. Bruce found himself a full-time single Dad, in his late forties, as well as a returning single man to the changed world of cyber-dating. It became a classic “sandwich” situation when he also began to care for his ailing parents. He began writing various blogs on the dating sites he used as well as articles for local publications. The goal of his column, A Dad’s Point-of-View, is to primarily focus on parenting and occasionally other issues from the male perspective. Presently, his column is available in over 50 newspapers and Web sites in the U.S. and internationally. Bruce lives in Agoura, California with his second (and last) wife and two boys, who are 15 and 12.

A Dad's Point of View: Paving the Way

Where do our kids get their values? Are you comfortable with the values they learn in public school? How about on MTV, cable or other television? Are reality shows actually reality? Do you think modern music teaches them about love and romance? Maybe going to the movies is better and seeing Academy Award winning movies like “Slumdog Millionaire,” or “Departed” will teach them right from wrong? How about the Internet where they can see their friends post naked pictures of themselves or, if their parents haven’t been smart and restricted access, they can go to any porn site in the privacy of their own rooms. You get the point. The values out there are certainly questionable.

When I grew up, my parents had little concern about what I’d see on television, what I’d be taught in school when politics and values were little discussed, and they felt comfortable that they could inculcate me in their own values and religion. It’s a different world now.

I attended a recent lecture by Dr. Bruce Powell, who is the Head of School at the New Community Jewish High School in West Hills, California and the father of three daughters and one son. The talk was about the challenges of raising teenagers. The room was full with parents looking for answers and struggling with the present day challenges we face raising our teens.

Dr. Powell offered a simple formula that could offer excellent guidance for parents. He gave it the acronym of P.A.V.E., which stands for Parental Actions, Values, and Expectations. While he didn’t address anything mentioned earlier in this column, about the differences our kids face from media and society today vs. previous times, I felt his idea was terrific. It seemed simple, yet it forced each of us if we were willing, to take a look at ourselves and the model we show our children, as well as how and what they learn from us.

Let’s start with Actions. Dr. Powell’s assertion is that our kids don’t miss anything. Our actions do indeed speak louder than our words. If dad comes home everyday after a difficult day at work, pours himself a drink or two, and plops down in front of the television, they notice. If mom is talking on the cell-phone while driving, and buys every designer handbag she can get her hands on, they notice. The language we speak, they hear. The things we eat, they observe, etc. etc. So, when Dr. Powell observed his oldest daughter, now a mom herself, driving somewhat fast and above the speed limit, and he asked her to slow down, he had to face her response “Dad, I’m just driving the way you always did.” So, our actions speak loudly to our kids, period, no excuse.

What Values are we teaching them? Do we teach them at all? Again, they observe how we treat the waiter or waitress, if we cheat on our taxes, try to take advantage of a salesperson, go to church or synagogue, or just drive them to religious school on Sundays while we go to brunch? Do we discuss our values; do we live them? Again, do we want present day primary school, with all its political correctness, to give them their values? On the likelihood that it may be too controversial, I won’t even go to what values our kids are taught and exposed to at most so-called elite universities and colleges. It’s abundantly clear that if they haven’t been solidly taught the values we, as parents, want them to learn, they will get thoroughly brainwashed at many such institutions.

And, finally, there’s Expectations. Do your kids know what you expect from them? Is it enough to expect good grades? Do they think we care more about their grades or how good a person they are? Expectations have become sort of taboo nowadays, in the same way that shame is a word that doesn’t seem to be touched on much anymore, yet both can and do have importance in shaping how we behave. Our kids need to know our expectations. They should be more affected by disappointing us than by losing a privilege and/or getting punished.

Dr. Powell said, in their family, the shame of disappointing their parents was far greater than any other punishment they might have devised and, in fact, there were no punishments other than their parent’s disapproval in their household. How many of us dole out punishment vs. teaching our kids our values and holding them to a standard of expectations and actions?

I like what he said. I’m going to work at really thinking about what comes out of my mouth in front of my kids. When my wife and I are stressed with one another, we’re going to strive to keep any bickering behind our closed bedroom door. The only thing I want my kids to see from us is a loving husband and wife. And, finally, I guess I’ll have to throw away the bong pipe, once and for all (okay, just joking on that one).

Please visit www.brucesallan.com to contact Bruce and to enjoy the various features his new Web site offers, including a unique Ask Bruce For Advice section, an archive of his columns, contact info, links to his published work, photo galleries, and reader comments, plus much more. Bruce Sallan was an award-winning television executive and producer for 25 years. Google him if you really want to know more (e.g. his credits). When his boys were quite young, Bruce left show biz to become a full-time Dad. Shortly thereafter his marriage ended and his wife abandoned their children, leaving the State. Bruce found himself a full-time single Dad, in his late forties, as well as a returning single man to the changed world of cyber-dating. It became a classic “sandwich” situation when he also began to care for his ailing parents. He began writing various blogs on the dating sites he used as well as articles for local publications. The goal of his column, A Dad’s Point-of-View, is to primarily focus on parenting and occasionally other issues from the male perspective. Presently, his column is available in over 50 newspapers and Web sites in the U.S. and internationally. Bruce lives in Agoura, California with his second (and last) wife and two boys, who are 15 and 12.

Make It Monday: Easter Egg Memory Game

I hope everyone had a fantastic Easter! We attended four (yes, four!) Easter egg hunts this year, which left us with lots of candy and lots of those little plastic colorful eggs.



Looking for a fun way to recycle some of those left over plastic eggs? You can turn them into a fun memory game that your preschooler is sure to love!

You'll need 12 plastic eggs, 1 egg carton, and 6 pairs of small objects.



I found these cute farm animals at the dollar spot in Target, or you can use things around the house- colored stones, buttons, beads, etc.


Put one object in each egg, and viola! You have a fun and simple memory game.



Let your child practice his/her memory and matching skills by opening one of the eggs, and then trying to find the other egg that has the matching object.

Make It Monday: Easter Flower Pail

Looking for a cute, budget-friendly Easter decoration or gift? With just a few simple items you can create an Easter flower pail in under 5 minutes!

For this craft, you will need the following: Mini bucket (I found mine in the dollar section at Target), flowers, and Easter gel window clings (found at Wal-Mart).



First, simply stick the gel clings to the bucket.



Then carefully put the flowers in the bucket. I was able to fit 2 sections from a 6-pack into one bucket.



Add a little water, and that's it!



Keep the flower pails as decorations on your Easter table, or give them away to a friend. I left one on a friend's doorstep to brighten their day :). Happy Easter!


This post was written and photographs were provided by Christine, a member of SLOCountyMommies.com.

A Dad's Point of View: Lessons of a big brother and mentor

One of the clichés about volunteerism is the fact that you often get more than you give. In my case, it was in ways and means I least expected. I’ve just become a Big Brother, again, to a 7-year-old boy and a Mentor to a 22-year-old young man. As these relationships are new, I don’t yet know what lessons I will learn. But, I know well the lessons I learned the first time around.

I became a Big Brother, long before I was married or a parent. My life, at that time, was pretty heady. In my early 30’s, I had a successful showbiz career in which I was paid way too much for having so much fun, I lived in a lovely home in a chic part of town, had two cars, and no one to worry about other than myself.

Fortunately, when I looked in the mirror and realized that reality, I began to search for something to do that wasn’t so self-centered. Quickly, I rejected the usual choices in entertainment. No industry favored charities and committees in which my role would be fund-raising, glad-handing and networking among ourselves. A hands-on experience was my desire, one in which I could directly impact someone’s life. This is not intended to diss the big charities, whose purposes often are wonderful and helpful to many; it just wasn’t what I sought.

All my early jobs, as a teen and young adult, centered around working with kids; at camps, teaching tennis, being a lifeguard, or park director. Learning about Big Brothers, I went to an orientation. What followed was a pretty thorough process of vetting. I was fingerprinted, interviewed privately and in groups, filed out various forms, and asked to provide several references. Only after 2-3 months was I approved and offered a “match” with a “little.”

This is where my expectations began. I am a guy who loves to play ball, literally and figuratively. I loved going to the movies and doing pretty much anything physical, wet or dry. Finally, every activity in my life usually involved food. You eat before or after, you stop for an ice cream, plus you must debate emphatically where to go to eat.

I was matched, as luck and maybe God decided, with an 8-year-old girl. In those days, they did match men with young girls because, after all, the need for a male adult figure is certainly the same for both genders. Sadly, due to legal fears, mixed gender matches are much fewer today.

My “little” was non-athletic, hated going to the movies, didn’t care to eat much, even ice cream and, when I met her, had a minor obsession with finding out or knowing who her father was, as she was the product of artificial insemination. There was no father in her life; no dead father, no dead-beat father, no abusive father, no father, period. For the first couple of years I knew her, this plagued her.

I had to learn to accept that her interests were not mine, and try and find some kind of common ground. It wasn’t easy but the irony was this extra effort and challenge ultimately proved to be the lesson I received before I became a parent. Eventually, we did find common ground. Often, it was just a matter of taking turns, doing what the other wanted on alternate outings. But, mostly, we learned to talk to one another. I became her confidant.

Over time, she opened up about her life in a way she wasn’t comfortable doing with her mother. She told me about school problems, shared with me a substance issue she developed, and also took me through a personal journey of sexual identity that confused her much of her teen years.

She turned out to be my prep course for being a parent. What a gift; what a surprise. When I did get married and was blessed with two boys, I had similar expectations of them that I had of my little sister. They’d like the things I did and, of course, being my biological offspring, have many of my skills and traits. Uh-Uh.

Neither boy had any interest in sports. My youngest was a vegetarian till he was about 10 and their interest in food was pretty much limited to pizza. If a movie were older than they were, or heaven forbid, in black and white, they wouldn’t give it a try. Yup, they were much like my little. They were their own individuals.

While I still did my best to introduce any and every sport to my boys, I more easily accepted that they weren’t me. One was musical and the other artistic, and it was very clear neither would support me via a professional sports career in major league baseball, the NFL or NBA. I lightened up quicker and easier on my expectations, was much less disappointed that they didn’t share my loves and interests, and could better embrace and support their passions, all due to my lessons as a Big Brother.

What I will learn from my two new matches remains to be seen. I know, from the 22-year-old, who has been sick since birth with a neurological disorder in which few live past 30, that I come home after each visit thanking God for my families’ good fortune and health. My seven year old “little,” reminds me of the joy of being a little boy. Call this column an advocacy for volunteering. It is and you will be rewarded and be a better parent. I promise.

Please visit www.brucesallan.com to contact Bruce and to enjoy the various features his new Web site offers, including a unique Ask Bruce For Advice section, an archive of his columns, contact info, links to his published work, photo galleries, and reader comments, plus much more. Bruce Sallan was an award-winning television executive and producer for 25 years. Google him if you really want to know more (e.g. his credits). When his boys were quite young, Bruce left show biz to become a full-time Dad. Shortly thereafter his marriage ended and his wife abandoned their children, leaving the State. Bruce found himself a full-time single Dad, in his late forties, as well as a returning single man to the changed world of cyber-dating. It became a classic “sandwich” situation when he also began to care for his ailing parents. He began writing various blogs on the dating sites he used as well as articles for local publications. The goal of his column, A Dad’s Point-of-View, is to primarily focus on parenting and occasionally other issues from the male perspective. Presently, his column is available in over 50 newspapers and Web sites in the U.S. and internationally. Bruce lives in Agoura, California with his second (and last) wife and two boys, who are 15 and 12.

Suck It Up and Be a Woman!

I'm fairly certain I'm not alone in my tendency to ignore my health. Those little things that slip away as mommies... nail care, hair care, forgetting to take vitamins, eating right, getting your pap. That's right. I said it. Getting your pap.

It's not pleasant. Who wouldn't love an excuse to put it off for a bit... or indefinitely! It is not exactly my idea of fun... if only they could give you a pedicure at the same time or something. Or maybe even a glass of wine or dinner first? Who wants to go into an office, lay on your back, and put you knees to your ears to have some one you don't really know, do those things we are all too eager to forget. And then you get to wait a couple weeks for that phone call telling everything is fine... yet again! Right?

Well I sucked it up, stopped putting it off, and I went. I hadn't been since my daughter was born and was going for a physical. (For some reason, if I make my husband do things like take care of himself he wants me to as well - what happened to good old fashioned double standards?) And I knew my doctor would ask me if I'd had my yearly pap and tell me to go do it... so, like a big girl, I did. And naturally the phone call came and everything was fine. And they called to tell me again, everything was fine. Yeah, I got two phone calls telling my the same thing. Then I got a third. A bit different. It was my doctor this time.

She started out apologetic. The lab had given them incorrect preliminary results. When they got the actual paper work, my result were different: abnormal. She explained that when this happens, they automatically do an HPV (human papilloma virus) test. This come back one of three ways; negative, positive low risk, or positive high risk. Mine was positive high risk for the HPV that causes cervical cancer. She said I needed to have a culposcopy to diagnose the abnormality.

What!? Abnormal? Diagnose? Cult-o-what? You mean I could have cancer!?

I, in a daze, scheduled my culposcopy. The doctor puts acetic acid (or white vinegar as you may know it) on your cervix which highlights abnormal cells. Then s/he uses a culposcope to look at you cervix and if they see abnormal cells, they take a biopsy (or two in my case). This wasn't fun. And I even had to reschedule due to mother nature scheduling her own appointment with me the same morning. But I got it done. It was uncomfortable and hurt more than they lead me to believe it would. I was cramping for a couples day after and had a vinegary discharge, but that wasn't that bad (and DH never knew because there's no intercourse for 1 to 2 weeks).

So what's next. You worry. You worry for two weeks that you have cancer and that they're going to have to remove your cervix and you're going to have a hysterectomy before you're 30. You look at your child and husband everyday and get teary eyed every time you think about what the results hold. And then they come.

I got "lucky". I have cervical dysplasia. The lesion on my cervix has abnormal changes in the cells that may or may not progress into cancer. It is not cancer. But I do have to have cryotherapy - the doctor uses a probe and liquid nitrogen to freeze the abnormal cells to death. But I don't have cancer and it can be treated easily.

Don't let my story scare you. Don't let it be another reason to put off your health. If I hadn't gone when I did and it wasn't caught now, who knows what the results could have been a year down the road? It's not just health, it could be your life. So if not for your health, do it for you family. What would they do without you? So just suck it up, put your knees to your ears, and get your pap!

This post was written by Kelsey, a member of AtlantaAreaMommies.com. You can view her blog at http://whenlifegivesyoupotatoes.blogspot.com

I Swore It Would Never Happen

I really don't know when it happened or how it even started but I have a confession to make. I have become the type of mom who puts her child in every activity possible. We attend story time twice a week, go to music classes, have four playgroups and are about to sign up to take swim lessons for the summer. In other words, free play is almost non-existent in our lives these days. Sure we play outside when the weather is nice or in my daughter's playroom on a rainy day but I can't help but phone a friend and have them come play too.

At first I thought my obsession with staying busy was in part due to the fact that I just left work in January and had to pull my baby out of daycare. I was worried that going from playing with seven other children a day to just one mommy wasn't going to cut it for my now walking, climbing, busy little bee. So I started meeting with some of the women in my local area that I had meet on AtlantaAreaMommies, my local TMN forum, and thus the addiction began.

Don't get me wrong, it started off small and slowly. At first it was just a playgroup here or there when everyone had time. Then the other moms in the playgroups started telling me about local activities that were free or really inexpensive. I can do those I thought to myself thinking that a trip to the library for story time was no big deal or a cheap music class was not a problem. The classes were, and continue to be, fun. I've meet some great women through these classes and have since started up playgroups with them as well. Thus we are now part of multiple playgroups along side our normal activities.

I guess I cannot complain too much. My daughter and I stay busy and she is continuing to get the socialization that I think she needs. It has also prevented us from watching hours of television or becoming bored with ourselves...really I can think of only so many games to play in one day. So now when I see a soccer sticker or a windshield plastered with some child's accomplishments and sports I laugh to myself because I know that one day I will probably be the same. I am sure that my daughter will be a better person for it.

Melissa Liipfert is the mother of a wildly active one year old, a playgroup junkie and member of the AtlantaAreaMommies. You can view her blog at: www.lilbitofthat.com.

A Dad's Point of View: Steppin'

The ‘50s ideal of the nuclear family is clearly a thing of the past as most statistics readily confirm. Divorce is rampant and the definition of family is undergoing constant scrutiny and redefinition. For my family, we’ve been dealing with a new Step-Mom, as I just got married, this past December 27 (2008). My new wife might argue that she is going through the greatest adjustment, while my boys and I might argue otherwise. I’ll let you be the judge, but first I want to officially introduce my family members, not by name, but by nickname.

In thinking of what would be most appropriate, I thought I’d look for some special characteristics and/or interests to identify them. For my older son, 15, it was easy. His singular interest is rock ‘n’ roll, especially harder rock and metal. He plays guitar well, often, and loudly. So, he will hereafter be known as “GuitarHero.” My younger son, 12, has more diverse interests and is known as the artist of the family, loving manga comic books and all sorts of drawing. However, his favorite comic book is, without question, “Archie,” so his name is going to be “Jughead.”

Finally, my wife. My newlywed. The love of my life. She has many interests, but the passion that brought us together was and is skiing. We met online and the first sentence of her profile was “Do you ski?” In searching for a nickname, however, the initial skiing ideas didn’t really work: “downhill,” “slalom,” “ski-lift,” “moguls,” etc. Sitting on the chair lift with her the other day, I thought I had my inspiration. Looking down at her skis, I saw their name: “Burnin’ Luv.” Pretty good, but alas, it just doesn’t feel right. Even when, later that day, the first song I heard on the car radio was “Burning Love” by Elvis. Yes, I’m an Elvis fan and if there’s Karaoke around, you can count on my doing “Can’t Help Fallin’ In Love,” (the Vegas version, preferably), my all-time favorite song.

Feeling stuck, I reflected on another of my wife’s passions, for which we are the lucky recipients. She loves to cook and does it really well. Her Apple Pie is divine. There’s a name, but it’s boring. Finally, I settled on it. Our favorite dish, one of her specialties, is Short Ribs. Don’t ask me why, but I love that nickname, so my wife will hereafter be known as “ShortRib.”

Say hello to my family members, GuitarHero, Jughead and ShortRib. Our dogs are Simon, Charlotte, and Tache (that’s French for “Spot”).

When I became single and a full-time Dad, my boys were just 6 and 9, and while society recognizes the value of Dads in children’s lives, I found myself truly an anomaly. There were no full-time single dads at my boys’ schools or anywhere in our social lives. Consequently, when I began dating, I sought only divorced women with children, believing they would understand my commitment to my kids and the pressures and challenges of being a full-time single Dad. And, in fact, most of the women I initially dated were raising kids of their own.

With a few women, when the relationship seemed to be deepening, we introduced our children to each other and learned the real challenges of blending families. There were good and bad mixes, but I still believed that this blend was the best choice for my boys and me. Yet, as often happens, we make plans and God laughs.

When I met ShortRib, it wasn’t love at first sight, but it was definitely like at first coffee. But, she had no children, just a dog (Charlotte). She had been married many years, divorced ten, and was of an age at which having children wasn’t an option. Further, she was, in her opinion, also past the prime age for raising kids, or even sharing the parent role.

ShortRib didn’t meet my children till we were serious; her decision and the appropriate one. Thankfully, they too had “like at first sight.” Circumstances evolved that, much earlier than she would’ve liked, we ended up living together, in our house. Instantly, her orderly existence, where she had a perfectly arranged, managed, and neat home of her own, was turned upside down.

We weren’t arranged, manageable or neat. Five years of three boys and two dogs living together had allowed us, frankly, to become slobs. And, we liked it that way. For ShortRib, it was a shock from which it took her months to recover. And, months more to reform us.

I’d say the biggest challenge dealt with Ms. Clean. For us, cleanliness was a priority on par with going to the proctologist. We didn’t own a vacuum cleaner. Really. Now before you think I was totally irresponsible, I had a cleaning crew come every week and they had the vacuum cleaner, but refused to let us touch it. Wash was done when we ran out of clothes, dogs were bathed never, and we had a pool table in place of a dining room table. Our kitchenware consisted, proudly, of no two matching pieces.

Now, joking aside, these things were and are the easy stuff. Where steppin’ (my action term for step-parenting) gets challenging is when our styles differ and when the kids, as they do with any parents, put one against the other in order to get their way. For ShortRib, she didn’t know if she was supposed to be their friend or their mom. For me, I wasn’t sure if I was willing to relinquish control of any of the decision-making in their upbringing. Add into the mix GuitarHero, who liked to indirectly remind ShortRib that she wasn’t his mom, and you have a familiar combustible scenario. Plus, Jughead cozying up to his new step-Mom and ignoring your erstwhile columnist and everyone is at each other’s throats.

I hope you didn’t expect any solutions in this column. The reality is every family must figure it out for themselves. We’re brand new at it and each day brings a new challenge and opportunity for us to work better as a team. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Please visit www.brucesallan.com to contact Bruce and to enjoy the various features his new Web site offers, including a unique Ask Bruce For Advice section, an archive of his columns, contact info, links to his published work, photo galleries, and reader comments, plus much more. Bruce Sallan was an award-winning television executive and producer for 25 years. Google him if you really want to know more (e.g. his credits). When his boys were quite young, Bruce left show biz to become a full-time Dad. Shortly thereafter his marriage ended and his wife abandoned their children, leaving the State. Bruce found himself a full-time single Dad, in his late forties, as well as a returning single man to the changed world of cyber-dating. It became a classic “sandwich” situation when he also began to care for his ailing parents. He began writing various blogs on the dating sites he used as well as articles for local publications. The goal of his column, A Dad’s Point-of-View, is to primarily focus on parenting and occasionally other issues from the male perspective. Presently, his column is available in over 50 newspapers and Web sites in the U.S. and internationally. Bruce lives in Agoura, California with his second (and last) wife and two boys, who are 15 and 12.