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Family Man Archive
A dedicated dad shares his perspective on parenting today.'A complete archive of Family Man' columns by Gregory Keer.
Counting Sheepish (January 2009)
"More than ever, I want to stop having imaginary dialogues with people who may or may not actually be judging me for my parenting. Realistically, do other parents care that much about how I father? Even if they do, is it any of their business? MORE
Attuned to the Holidays (December 2008)
The Family Man relects on his own love for music and his process of nuturing that love in his somes.
Saving Face (November 2008)
"On a break from jury duty, I get a text message from my wife. It reads: "In ER. J OK but needs stitches on face. Have an appt with plastic surgeon at 1:00." More...
Daddy's Fright Night (October 2008)
The stresses of the day spill over into the night causing our Family Man to have some monstrous dreams.
Sibs at School (September 2008)
The Family Man recalls shared school time with his sister as part of what is now a close bond. For his sons, Jacob and Benjamin, he hopes they too will learn they can depend on each other even when they're not under Mom and Dad's roof.
Losing the Battle with Oscar Madison (August 2008)
Really, what's a better use of my time as a dad? Straightening closets for hours at a time or shutting the door on the mess to go kick a soccer ball with the boys? ... A my life gets busier, I'm trying to give in to my inner Oscar Madison with a clearer conscience.
Grounded (July 2008)
I feed him, clothe him, keep him up to his eyeballs in his beloved art supplies. And it all comes down to a broken pledge to take him to a place most people only dream about.
Jock Itch (June 2008)
I don't know if any of my children will compete in high school sports or anything beyond that. My wish is that they'll play for camaraderie, for fun, maybe a little for dad. I also hope they'll play for their own kids when it's their turn on the sidelines.
Heaven Can Wait (May 2008)
"If I died, which one of my friends would you date?" When my wife asked me this at bedtime one night, I seized up like the engine of my old Datsun B-210 at mile 250,000.
Abracadabra (April 2008)
Called to bail out his 3-year-old for biting, our Family Man reflects on the unique challenges of each of his sons--and the magic that comes with parenting them.
For years, I lived with a prehistoric boy. He showed signs of modernity in his looks (no excess body hair, unless you count the shaggy haircut) and with his choice of tools (made with circuitry rather than flint), but he spoke in grunts.
Valentine's Day is coming up and I'm already sweating over what my middle child will write on the little cards he'll pass out to his kindergarten classmates. Most 6-year-olds stick to filling out the basic TO: and FROM: blanks. Not my little Romeo.
I have a bad stomach. Some of it is due to my inability to digest dairy products and Indian food, but most of it stems from stress.
The convenience of finding my socks next to the fine china and forgetting that the window to the neighborhood is open while slipping on underwear are not my idea of homey comfort.
For six months, we had this plan to get away for a breather. One overnight trip - 36 hours to be exact - to leave our work and kids in someone else's care. One brief escape to Las Vegas to throw our money away (though we had carefully budgeted how much)
, hang out with a couple of our good friends, and play like grown-ups.
I sometimes fantasize about turning into a Dickens character, pulling my kids by the collar and growling at them in a cockney accent, 'Mind your manners, my urchins. It's not wise to make your father look bad.'
We have this 70-year-old wooden chest that houses bundles of our memories. Inside are photos we have yet to press into books and a handful of art projects from our sons' early childhoods.
In our family, we do not judge other people's shapes and are careful not acto criticize our own forms in front of the kids. We also celebrate food, choosing occasional indulgence over strict dieting. So, while we know kids are curious about bodies and comment with noble, though na've, honesty, we cannot figure out why our son has this fixation.
Four years ago, I publicly admitted to being in love with my minivan. Especially when it comes to road trips, nothing could replace her. An RV is too scary to maneuver, not to mention a fortune to gas up. A station wagon is a wannabe minivan. A sedan feels like an overstuffed clown car when you pack in a family of five.
More than his addiction to the immediate gratification these gadgets provide, what really bothers me is that my son has mastered all of them quicker than I can change the clock on my car radio.
My love for my wife began with all that talk, and continues largely because of it. Although we've lived together for more than 15 years, we still burn up phone lines and cell towers
At parties, I speak in hushed tones with other moms and dads about naps as if they're contraband.
I've spent a lifetime practicing and teaching tolerance. But I can't deny myself this one shred of prejudice. I hate people who don't like to be around children.
When I was 15, one perfectly fine day was ruined by a hug. As I was running out the door to meet my morning carpool, my mom stopped me with, "Did you forget to hug your mother?"
Weeks into the torment that middle-of-the-night crying causes parents of newborns, my wife and I prayed that our baby, Jacob, would find his thumb to soothe him. Night after night, we lay in bed, deciding if we should feed him, rock him, stick him out on the porch, or let him wail it out. Yet, if he could simply suck a finger or two, as his older brother Benjamin had as an infant, Jacob would cut down scores of painful wake-ups.
For the holidays, shopping for my kids is easy. Daring us to furnish him with another reason to ignore us, Benjamin, age 8, requests a Lego Star Wars II: The Original Trilogy program for his Game Boy. Breaking away from his brother's long shadow, Jacob, 5, has his eyes on a "super fast" new bike. Ari, 2, hankers for a ball. Judging by the way he grabs everything round off the store shelves before we can catch him, he'd rather have his own sporting goods shop.
One of my worries for my third child was that he would get left in the dust of the older kids. For much of his early life, Ari was schlepped to the other boys' activities and restrained by a high chair or stroller as his siblings caromed around freely.
I tried to ignore him, thinking, what could be better than going house-to-house with your family, collecting treats Charlie Brown only dreamed about?
Benjamin loved his school. He loved his teachers, friends, math challenges, science lab and reading groups. He loved soccer at PE and student council with the older kids... So, we ripped him from everything he loved to put him elsewhere for third grade.
"Where's Jacob?" Then there are the moments when the answers take longer to arrive, like when he's vanished at a playground or scooted out of sight at an amusement park. Until I find him, these occasions induce the equivalent feeling of drowning on dry land.
When our plane finally took off, I understood that adult vacationing had been forever altered.
It's one thing to decide to have children. It's another to close the chapter on creating kids and concentrate on raising them.
I live with this woman but can't figure out how she does it. There's no Ritalin or other foreign stimulants to sustain her relentless multitasking. Just God-given fuel that keeps her on "mom overdrive."
Both my boys love more than they fight, but Benjamin's extremely patient. Perhaps it's because he studies Tong Soo Do martial arts and maybe it's his in-born temperament, but this kid has the tolerance of Gandhi.
When we moved to our house two years ago, the creepy man next door introduced himself. Wearing soiled clothes, he explained that he was 51, out of work, and living with his sick mother. From then on, we never caught a glimpse of her. When we did see him, he was lugging a 12-pack of beer, followed by a snarling canine that showed signs of being in a ring with a pit bull named Lockjaw.
When my wife Wendy and I were still new to each other, I picked her up from the airport. This was our fourth "date," so when she said she bought me something while visiting San Francisco, I felt validated. Clearly, any woman who would give a guy a present at this juncture of the courtship must be thinking long-term.
Problem is, I hate regular exercise. Bigger problem is, my kids hate regular exercise. So I began "Operation Daddy Run." After a procrastination period of researching the proper running shoes, working out an exercise schedule, and proudly announcing to my family and friends that I was about to give the Kenyans a run for their money in the marathon, I finally started jogging...
As much as we expect bad stuff to happen to our kids, we just can't prepare for the distress that occurs when it does. We spend so much of our day saying "Don't stand on this" or "Stop running around the pool" that there seems to be little else to parenting other than the attempt to prevent disasters.
Sleep ended when a High-pitched moaning pierced my eardrums and my eyes snapped open. There was'a dark shape holding what looked like an ax!...
In this new school year, the Family Man plans to appreciate'his children's individual progress, one step at a time.
Fatherhood has given grossness'new meaning for the Family Man.
An avowed Disney cynic, the Family Man rediscovers the magic of the theme park through they eyes of his sons.
How sweet it is to be loved by candy-loving kids.
How did a guy who loves Lichtenstein fall in love with a maternal Marie Curie?
When his youngest son falls ill, the Family Man takes time to reflect on the ties that bind.
In a family that's four-fifths male, the Family Man reflects on gender differences.
The Family Man waxes philosophical as his newest son sleeps in his arms.
Remembering Fat Albert, the Family Man resolves to make his kids laugh every single day.
Kids need less stuff, more imagination -- that's the formula for a special holiday.
The Family Man learns what it takes to turn a new house into a new home.
With a third baby on the way, the Family Man reflects on being an "old dad."
When our kids love learning, should we whisper about it, or shout it to the world?
Could our kids be alien invaders? The Family Man presents the evidence ' you be the judge!
"It's a picture of mommy jumping off a cliff at family camp!" Intrigued?' Find out more about the Family Man's experience at camp.
When dad's the coach, guess who ends up learning all the lessons?
Our Family Man has a very special Mother's Day wish for his sons.
The Family Man confronts his own fears about his kids having to understand too much about the world too soon -- and concludes that the more they know, the more they will be able to recognize the real monsters.
Our kids' art: For keeps? Or just for now?'''The Family Man' takes us through the painful process of deciding what's for stays, and what has to go.
Our Family Man faces the biting truth of life with a 2-year-old.
The Family Man' outlines a'New Year's resolution that we can all use: more patience, less perfection.
A'holiday'reflection on having enough cousins to fill the "children's table" -- and the amazing privilege'of having an extended family.
Captaining the fathership, our Family Man explores the frontier of parenthood in a ' minivan!
The Family Man struggles with the challenges of two kids -- when each comes first.
Bring on the tears! The Family Man reflects on the thrill -- and heartache -- of sending his first little one off to kindergarten.
Think about it -- besides the kitchen, where do you spend the most undistracted face-time with your kids?
A Caribbean vacation saga -- 2 parents, 2 kids, 2 in-laws.
A Father's Day reflection.
Why do we need a special day to celebrate mothers?
A call to the paramedics reminds us that parenthood is full of surprises, both joyous and terrifying
Thoughts on choosing the Daddy Track.
Is this the perfect time to throw a wrench into the works? Read the highlights of a seesaw battle over having a third child.
A New Year's Resolution to be a good parent and allow kids to live exuberantly. In a family that's four-fifths male, the Family Man reflects on gender differences.




