Here technorati.com. Here is my validation code: RGZA45A6NP73 I feel quite validated now, thank you very much.

Recently, I boarded my first cruise ship. It sailed from Galveston, Texas and made the loop down to Mexico. I did it to attend an seagoing conference related to my profession and I did it in spite of my nearly 100% certainty that the experience was going to be pretty creepy. I won’t name the cruise ship company. I mean, it really doesn’t matter, right? Let’s just say it was more economy than first class. Which begs the question are there any cruise ships that don’t look like dilapidated 1980′s discos? Are there new ones? Ones that look like fairly modern shopping malls vs....

My father left when I was six years old. The age my son is now. I don’t remember my father leaving. Did he walk out with a suitcase? Did they engineer it so he left while we were at school? I remember an argument, in the back bedroom with the door closed. I remember doing my little-child Saturday chores as the spring wind blew through the house, I remember that. But his exit, days or weeks afterward, is not something I recall, forty five years later. I don’t remember a day when he was suddenly gone. There are things I do recall about my father. And I have the luxury of knowing where and...

My son is six. He has a thing he does lately where he puts his wide-open mouth about a tenth of an inch from my nose. Then he just freezes there, panting on my nose. It’s pretty annoying. After the 500th time, I’m just trying not to go ballistic on him. He’s a sweet kid. I love him more than I love my own life. He’s very smart and very thoughtful most of the time. But he does this nose thing because he knows it drives me crazy. He knows its my personal crazy-making thing. Kids find out your crazy-making thing, because, of course, you tell them. Its part of the cosmic...

Recently I posted one of my early articles about seeking to maintain my family even as I divorced over at the Good Men Project. A remarkable conversation came out of that post. Its well worth reading. Take a look here.

I’m happy to announce that my son Gus(age 6) and I have completed our newest illustrated children’s book. It is directed at wonderful kids (age 4 to 7) who might push or grab others. It’s about a boy who is trying to understand his impulses and how they affect others. Once he does see how his impulses affect others, he is unsure of what to do. Ultimately, an unusual set of friends come to his rescue. Gus and I are seeking reviews and feedback from people in the therapy community as well as parents of younger children. But I am happy to hear from anyone who would like to see the book...

  About 18 months ago, Saliha, my son and I did this drawing called the Button Game. No doubt there were hundreds of conversations that let up to this drawing. As with everything in life, we arrived at this moment by taking a million tiny steps over time. But it is this kind of creative culmination that results when life lessons are purposefully marked and made accessible through artistic expression. In this case, illustrations of visual symbols. Sam was five years old at the time. Like most parents, I was wrestling with a complex range of issues including his developing social skills, the ever...

I ran across a post written this summer by stay at home dad @ChrisRoutly from his site the Daddy Doctrines. Chris was writing about whether or not parenting makes people happier which Chris says is actually a misnomer. Chris says parenting is about living a fulfilling life. Chris writes some great stuff, so go have a look. This all got me thinking about what makes Chris sit down and write. And he’s not alone. Many many parents are asking questions about the nature of a fulfilling life, and going public with their thoughts on all of it. My parents would have thought all this self-examination...

A couple of years ago, my four year old son Sam and I were leaving a big box bookstore in upstate New York. It was winter, close to Thanksgiving. I held him in the crook of my arm, his face next to mine, his small arm confidently draped across my shoulder. It was around 6PM. The sun had set. Lights on passing cars sparkled. The traffic sounds were perfectly clear in the crisp night air. The stage was set to see and to hear. As if the world had decided to create this giant stage and light it dramatically just for our benefit. We heard the sound of geese calling, growing louder, very quickly. They were...

Ah, the joys of parenting when you’re just a panic stricken guy in way over his head… ———————- This morning I got Gus up, found his clothes for him, fed him, talked with him about which colors match which levels of emotions (his choice of conversation not mine), made his lunch, and took him to school on the C train. Feint echos of some bad old emotions hit me sometimes when I spend the morning being a Dad. I recall the panic I felt when I first became a full time, all day parent. As kids get older and start school and other activities, they move out...

I titled my site MEGA SAHD, as a tongue in cheek play on the unfortunate sound you make when you speak the abbreviation for Stay At Home Dad (SAHD). As in, “You are a stay at home dad. How SAD for you.” So I pretty much had to add MEGA, which is some kind of children’s animated fighting toy reference. Its meant  to conjure brightly colored body armor and a big glowing sword while doing the dishes. Anyway, I went with it. As we stay at home dad’s know, being a SAHD is not really sad at all. Its insane. Its alarming. Its exhausting. Its hilarious. It generates a MASSIVE amount...

Psychotherapy Networker Magazine has published the Sadness Ghost in it’s January, 2012 issue. — In the summer of 2011, here in New York City, an eight year old boy was murdered. He got lost walking the few blocks home from day camp. It is a chilling story. Even more so for parents of young children. When I read about it, my first response was, “I have to get Sam away from the city. This place is not safe. We have to go somewhere SAFE.” Close on the heels of that thought, came the question of how to get Sam to NOT TRUST STRANGERS. My son Sam is six years old. He’s a sweet kid. He...

I’m the divorced parent. Some parents stay married. I didn’t. I get up in the morning and make my son breakfast. I pack his lunch. I walk him to school and I pick him up. I schedule play dates. I watch cartoons with him. We talk about being “unmarried” and having two houses. In the beginning, shortly after the collapse of my marriage, I made a point of speaking glowingly of my former spouse. Especially around my still-married friends. I would march into parties and lead with lines like, “Joanne and I are working hard to co-parent Sam”. “It’s all going well”....