Kids intuitively know, deep down in their DNA, when the flight door closes, it’s time to freak the hell out. Parents — good luck with that.
A yard swing becomes a focal point for a new family to meet neighbors, find playmates for their kids, and get over that awkward phase.
A child’s fall from a tree and, eventual, ER visit helps this dad discover a parenting trick few of admit to knowing well.
We’ve become entrenched in our own need to be the most right, the greatest martyr, and along the way we’ve lost our empathy.
My son doesn’t have memories of dad spitting fire and venom. He has memories of a dad taking a breath, a knee, and a moment to listen.
Don’t measure success by your wealth or fame. Measure it by how well you handle the long, fulfilling walk down the path of fatherhood.