We all know how important father/son bonding time is. The relationship a boy has with his father greatly shapes the man he will become in the future. But building a great father/son relationship can be tricky as your son hits his tween and teen years. All of a sudden Dad isn’t as cool as he used to be and your son will most likely lean toward spending time with friends. Although it may be tougher, this is a crucial time for Dads to be involved and maintain the relationship with their sons. With a little advanced planning, you can make the most of your father/son time and create great memories.

Here are a few ideas to get you started: 

1) Meet him on his Turf. Go for a bike ride, lace up some skates, kick a soccer ball; you may even need to grab the wii remote and give video games a try. If you want to hang out and relate with your son, you will need to do it in a way he understands and desires.

2) Go to Movies. This gives you time together, but you don’t need to talk. Then when the movie is over, you’ll have something to talk about. But again, you may have to go to a movie that is out of your comfort zone, let him choose and love it no matter what.

3) Take him out to Dinner. Let your son choose where you eat and make have fun! Whether it is an impromptu dinner or one that is planned for weeks, food is always a good hit with boys.

4) Go to a Sporting Event Together. Boys usually love sports and it’s a perfect time for father and son to bond over a favorite sport or team.

5) Keep Talking. Most boys aren’t as verbal and chatty as girls which can make them hard to talk to. But ultimately, everyone loves to talk about themselves so if you ask questions and keep the conversation going, your son is sure to let down his guard and talk with you.  

6) Invite his Friends Over for Pizza. Nothing gathers teenage boys faster than food. If you are willing and able to provide, the boys will come. You may not get the one-on-one time with your son you were hoping for, but you will get to see him in his natural environment. Plus, his friends will probably strike up conversations with you which will give you a glimpse into your child’s life.

7) Turn off the Electronics in the Car. Don’t allow your teen to bury his face in his phone while you are driving around. He can put the phone down for 15 minutes. If conversation doesn’t come easily, turn on the tunes and bond over music. Car rides are a fantastic time to catch up and converse with your kids.

8) Don’t take it Personally. It can be hard when your son chooses to hang with his friends instead of you, but try not to get too bent out of shape over it. In truth, your nagging and pestering will only drive him away more. Understand that he wants to be with his buddies and let that happen.

9) Be Vulnerable with Him. Let your teen know what scares you, what you like, mistakes you’ve made. If you seem like a “real person” to him, he is more likely to hang out with you.

10) Don’t Give a Guilt Trip. “Guilting” your son into hanging out with you will not result in quality bonding. Instead you’ll have a child who resents you for making him skip something fun to hang with his parent.

Sincerely,

Daddy Nickell

Robert Nickell, aka Daddy Nickell, father of 7, offers his “5 cents” worth of advice to expectant and new parents.  Daddy Nickell is the founder of Daddyscrubs.com, delivery room duds and daddy gifts and apparel, and the DaddyScrubs blog where he covers topics about parenting all from a Dad’s perspective.

The post Tips for Bonding with Your Son appeared first on AKAMom Magazine.

Yes, as our budding musicians near the end of school, it is time for one of the most difficult of parental obligations: attending annual spring band concerts.  Because of all of the hand-wringing instances where our kids are placed in the spotlight, listening to their first performances is by far the most painful.

Of course we can’t blame our kids for this.  Musical instruments are very difficult to learn.  Any one who has heard a beginning violinist knows exactly what I am talking about.  A few minutes with the long, ear-piercing squeal of a violin can make water-boarding look pretty good.

Fortunately, there is a fundamental law that applies to all beginning instrumentalists:  the degree of listening pleasure is inversely proportional to the relation to the performer.  It works like this.  The instrument always sounds best to the performer.  It sounds pretty good to the performer’s closest relatives.  It sounds politely passable to friends and acquaintances.  And to everybody else, it sounds like an endorsement for earplugs.  If this law were not true, orchestras would only consist of drums and harmonicas.

This is what I was thinking as I sat in the school auditorium on a warm spring evening listening to my son’s concert band warm up with rousing renditions of the B flat and C major scales; which I think were played simultaneously.    Eventually, the conductor ticked his baton on a music stand and the audience of proud parents grew silent.

My son lifted his horn with anticipation, and just before the downbeat filled the entire auditorium with music. Great, big, beautiful music.

It’s a fundamental law, you know.

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But, I suppose, it does have its uses.  For example, if you take a big roll of the stuff and pass it under and over a bed many times while someone is still sleeping you can easily create a giant cocoon from which there is very little chance of escape.  And if you wrap up an alarm clock really tight you can see the time even though you can’t depress the buttons.

It’s pretty strong and transparent too.  Especially when stretched across a cold shower stall.

Until last year when my alarm inexplicably went off at full volume on April 1st, I would never have thought of such creative uses for cling wrap. But it turns out my wife and kids are very clever with the stuff.   And here I thought it was just to keep food fresh.

Needless to say, I felt pretty foolish when I saw the empty tube of cardboard next to the bed.  Especially since it was only March 32^nd.  At least this is what I innocently told my kids.

When they heard this they rolled their eyes and scoffed.  They think just because I was born yesterday that I was born yesterday.  “Dad,” said my son sarcastically,  “did you know the word gullible was inadvertently omitted from the Webster Dictionary?  It’s true! Go ahead, look it up!”

I did.  He is wrong.  But he won’t feel so smarty pants when he opens his lunch at school this year.  Saran Wrap also keeps Play-Doh really fresh.

John Christmann is a freelance writer and all around good guy. He lives in Summit, NJ with his very tolerant wife and three children. His favorite color is plaid and he is afraid of machines and small dogs. You can check out his unique take on parenting at www.dadinthebox.com or fill up his inbox at john.christmann@dadinthebox.com.

The post Wrapping March appeared first on AKAMom Magazine.

Like many kids, ours began their art careers when they were old enough to sit at the table and brandish small weapons,
sometimes referred to as crayons. I refer to these years as their Tableist period, and it incorporated a variety of techniques including decoupage, woodcuts, and monotypes washed in emulsions of crayon wax and milk. Their artwork is permanently preserved in our house, primarily because we still need a place to eat. It is my theory that much of the primitive cave art in existence today was created by children: I believe that most parents aren’t inclined to carve stick figures of horses on the walls of their homes. The problem is, my kids are too prolific. I can put a large sheet of paper on an easel and another under their feet, and in two minutes I will have a Picasso and a Pollock ready to hang, as well as a T-shirt suitable for a Grateful Dead concert. Since I have three children, over the course of a school year I accumulate approximately 900 pieces of art, all of which competes for gallery space in our galley. These pieces are in the form of sketches, paintings, and an assortment of sculptures made of cotton balls, felt, paper plates, misplaced cell phones, and other loose objects that accept Elmer’s glue.

Before I became a ruthless philistine, the likes of Joseph Stalin or Simon Cowell, our kitchen was continually plastered in manila poster paper boasting blobs of paint, smeared handprints, and random scribbles. It got so bad that I started spotting flyers for lost kittens and local garage sales. And then one day I cleared the kitchen completely. I was surprised to learn we had wallpaper. My wife was incredulous. “How could you do that?” she asked in the same tone of voice she used the day I threw out the wad of expired coupons she had filed in our junk drawer.

Maybe I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure twenty years from now when I look at a yellowed painting of an extraterrestrial hanging on my refrigerator I will think back and say, “Which of the children made this and why is it here?” Call me sentimental. And so my resolve to remove clutter remains firm. Bracing for a major collection triggered by the start of the school year, I again purged our kitchen. The kids were upset. “Hey, where did my picture of the horsie go?” my daughter asked tearfully. “I am replacing it with your newest master work,” I told her, quickly grabbing a crinkled watercolor from atop a large heap of her summer projects and holding it out in front of her. “The more painterly representation of a watermelon floating in air is reminiscent of Renoir or Dali in their early years. Notice the cross hatching and the artist’s use of pointillism to depict seeds. The brush work is brilliant.” “Really Daddy?” she said with shining eyes. “Really, sweetheart. It is worthy of the Louvre.” She seemed puzzled, but smiled proudly. “I louvre you too daddy,” she said wrapping her arms around my legs. You can see this exciting new work on our refrigerator. The World’s Harshest Art Critic has sentimentally placed it on permanent display.

John Christmann is a freelance writer and all around good guy. He lives in Summit, NJ with his very tolerant wife and three children. His favorite color is plaid and he is afraid of machines and small dogs. You can check out his unique take on parenting at www.dadinthebox.com or fill up his inbox at john.christmann@dadinthebox.com.

The post Dad and Art – The World’s Harshest Critic appeared first on AKAMom Magazine.