Tag Archives: dadbloggers

Metaphor For Life

27 Feb

Metaphor header     letter A few Saturday mornings ago Episode IV and I were snuggling together in bed talking about her upcoming birthday: “So you’re going to be nine pretty soon” I said. “That’s pretty cool, huh?” “You know what that means, Daddy.” “What?” “That means I’m half way done with living in your house.” *input the sound of a grown man getting punched in the solar plexus* Before I go on any further, watch the video below. The reveal happens at about 0:09. I promise it isn’t what you think it’s gonna be. That’s how it’s always been with her. One day when she was 16 months old she just decided “Today is the day I’m going to start walking”. No lead up. No rehearsal. No preparation. Just *BOOM*. Off she went. “See ya, folks! I’m out’a here!” When she learned how to ride a bike it was pretty much the same thing. When this girl decides she’s going to do something, there is absolutely nothing in the world that can tell her she can’t do it. My mother likes to tease me that it wasn’t my academic prowess that got me into dental school. I got in on pure moxie. She’s probably right. It’s no mystery where Episode IV got it. If you knew her, the fact that she asked for a unicycle for Xmas wouldn’t surprise you… in the big picture. In the moment though, sitting there over raviolis and mashed potatoes when she made the request, I’d be lying if I said that UnDorkMommy and I weren’t a little shell-shocked. We exchanged looks as if to say “WTF?!” because seriously, what 8yo girl asks for a unicycle for Xmas? Apparently mine does. So courtesy of Grandma and Grandpa, a unicycle is exactly what she got. in the store I was convinced it was going to go one of two ways. Either she was going to try it once or twice, figure out that it was too hard and move on, or it was going to be 6 months of Saturdays at the elementary school basketball court while my little drama queen got mad at the unicycle for not doing what she wanted it to do.   As it turns out it only took 4 practice sessions. That’s it. Done. Off she went.       I love that my girl doesn’t accept the notion that there are things in this world she cannot do. When she makes up her mind how things are going to go, there is no discussion. That’s just the way it’s going to be. That will serve her well in life, in this world that is tougher for women than it is for men. I am especially proud of the fact that, as opposed to her slacker father, she is willing to put in all the hard work necessary to make it impossible for anyone to tell her “no”. So consider this a warning: If you happen to sit on the admissions board at Stanford University in about nine years, be advised. My daughter is coming for you, and she won’t take “no” for an answer.   -Dork Daddy

Spending Season

9 Dec

spending season header

 

letter Tis the season when it feels like there’s money constantly going out the door and relatively little going in. Between end of the year expenses, property taxes and Xmas gifts and all the little unforeseen incidentals, it’s easy to feel a little financially deflated at the end of the year. As my dad used to joke when we were kids, as long as there are checks in the checkbook there’s money in the account, right?

This is a subject that’s been on my mind a lot lately. The debt-load you need to take on to become a dentist is nothing short of crushing, let alone a practice acquisition loan and a mortgage if you’re lucky. Weighed down by all that red ink it’s tough to look past the nose on your own face. Debt-reduction becomes something of a desperate quest and although my accountant assures me that paying off debt is exactly the same as building savings, I am acutely aware that I’m basically in survival mode — which is to say I’m paying off my debt, but my savings account isn’t anything I would call “comfortable”.

I’m just a few days away from turning 41. At best I’ve got another 30 workable years in me… if I’m lucky. My oldest is about to turn 9. That’s the 1/2 way point. The years we have to get her ready for college are just as few as the years we’ve had since she was born, and those years FLEW by.

I have realized that there are things a responsible member of society must do no matter how painful: Pay taxes, take care of your health (re: exercise), and financially plan for the future. That means it’s time to stop living week-to-week like we did in our 20’s and 30’s and start thinking about our 70’s and beyond. It’s time to start thinking about things like 401-k’s.

In short, it’s time to start saving.

18aw8da4s6axzjpg

When you’re a moderately successful blogger *snort* sometimes opportunities present themselves to you. Recently I was invited to attend an event put on by ScholarShare, an organization that runs 529 accounts (I know… my eyes glaze over too with talk like that. But I have pledged to make this sort of knowledge part of the new “responsible” me… just like exercise.) 529 accounts are essentially the same thing as 401-k’s, only where 401-k’s are retirement accounts, 529’s are college savings accounts. Essentially, just like with 401-k’s, you invest your money with higher risk for larger gains in the beginning, and then as you get closer to the time when you need the money it gradually moves into lower risk investments. What particularly strikes my fancy is that for three kids that have more toys/junk than they can ever appreciate, during the holiday season family members and friends can contribute to an existing ScholarShare account or create one for a child as a holiday gifting option for as little as $25.

 

73060_456869897703141_2000646497_n-445x600

ScholarShare treated a bunch of bloggers to a fancy dinner to talk about 529’s and even offered a little compensation thanks to One2One Network (that was nice of them) if we shared the experience on our blogs. In truth, this is a talk I would have gone to whether or not there were blogger incentives. Saving for college is something I need to get serious about and I wanted to hear what they had to say.
The short story is the people from ScholarShare came off as very genuine and honest. I was wary of walking into a timeshare-pitch sort of evening. There was no salesmanship, nothing pushy, no used-car-salesman vibe at all. In fact, since they partner with TIAA-CREF they are a non-profit, so they don’t pay their bills with transaction fees like other financial planners. All they wanted was to get the word out that 529’s are the best way to plan ahead for college savings, and that they would love to be considered by anyone looking into one.

For my money, they seemed like a legit outfit worthy of consideration.

**********

That said, I’d like to try something a little different with this post.

For the sake of getting my head around how to financially prepare for my kids’ college, I’d like to start a little conversation in the comments below. How are you preparing for college expenses (or how did you prepare)? Do you think college is even an investment worth making in today’s world? (There’s a good argument to be made that it isn’t). What are your fears about saving for college/retirement? What do you know now that you wish you knew then?

In the comments below share your knowledge. Share your fears. Share your questions. Maybe we can help each other out.

 

-Dork Dad

Healthy Dad

21 Oct

Healthy Dad   letter My wife asked me if I liked it.

“No. Who the hell likes getting up at 5:00 am to get bossed around and beat up before going to work?”

My wife asked me if I feel better.

“No. My trainers are incredibly effective. They hit a different muscle group each time so I’m sore EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.”

My wife asked me if I’m going to keep doing it.

“Yes. I’m going to keep doing it.”

The truth is I do feel better. I can get up and down off the ground more easily when I’m wrestling with the kids. I can pick up Episode VI and throw him on my shoulders now without feeling like I’m on the verge of collapse. I’m don’t seem to be losing pounds or inches, but I can feel my arms and shoulders are thicker and my core is more solid… or at least it doesn’t jiggle as much.

I plan on bitching and moaning every step of the way. I’ll never be one of those people who enjoys exercise, but it’s still got to get done. It’s one of those things that responsible people have to do… like paying taxes. Here’s to being a #HealthyDad. Thanks to Anthem Blue Cross, who sponsored the campaign, for including dads in this important discussion about family health care. My views are based solely on my experience as a parent, and not as a medical professional.

-Dork Dad

Holding Hands

9 Sep

hands header

 

letter The other day I had Episodes IV and V loaded up in the minivan running an errand to who-can-remember-where in order to get who-can-remember-what accomplished when we came upon a large gaggle of middle school students just leaving the school, walking across the intersection where we were parked. Two of the students were lagging behind the pack, and my kids quickly picked up on the slightly different behavior they were exhibiting:

***

Episode V: “Daddy, why are those two big kids holding hands?”

Episode IV: “It’s because they’re brother and sister, or maybe it’s because they’re best friends!”

Episode V: “Aha! Just like me and Macayla!!”

***

Yeah, kids. That’s exactly it.

batmanlove

-Dork Dad

(Editor’s note: Macayla is the little girl from Episode V’s kindergarten class whom he informed us he would be marrying. She’s the same girl who just wrote a bunch of I-love-you’s all over his birthday card. We are currently in negotiations with Macayla’s parents regarding a dowry.)

All right. All right… FINE!!

23 Aug

header

 

 

 

T-shirty AWESOMENESS — Blogging For Good

18 Aug

shirts header

 

 

OHMUHGERD!!!

This is the post that has all my geek-buttons lighting up.

Are you a proud dork yourself? Do you have a giant dork in your family? Here is your chance to stand up loud and proud and show the world that the dorks have inherited the Earth.

For TWO WEEKS ONLY, exclusively from Dorkdaddy.com these hardcore, dorktastic t-shirts will be available through our partners at Teespring.com. But it gets even better. Teespring.com has generously agreed that 100% OF THE PROFITS GENERATED WILL BE DONATED TO BENEFIT THE FAMILY OF OREN MILLER, a fellow blogger and father who was recently diagnosed with stage IV cancer. (for more about how this came to pass, see below)

So feast your eyes on the nerd-candy below. Remember, they will only be available for two weeks. Grab ’em while you can. Buy some for your friends. And please, for Oren and his family, SHARE THE HELL OUT OF THIS POST.

“Dorkdaddy And Proud Of It”

 dorkdaddy
Admit it, there is no swagger like the swagger of knowing exactly who you are. There is no shame in pouring everything you’ve got into your family. Sure, you may still get a little tingle when you walk by the action figure aisle at the toy store. Sure, you may have more superhero t-shirts than dress shirts. Sure, you may have very strong feelings about the sequence you show the Star Wars movies to your kids. Your wife may have perfected the eye-roll when you quote every line from “The Goonies,” or when you obsess over the slightest statistical minutia for your favorite sports team. But at the end of the day it’s about sharing the things you love most in life with the people you love most in life. For that, you make no apologies.
Are you a Dorkdaddy? Own it.
Do you have a Dorkdaddy in your life? Own it.
Now there’s a “Dorkdaddy And Proud Of It” t-shirt. Own it.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

“Stay On Target”

 stayontarget
Remember that time when you were speeding down the trench to blow up that giant space station? Your dad was hot on your trail, trying to blow you out of the sky and your boss was all up in your face screaming “Stay on target. STAY ON TARGET!!” Of course you do. Who could forget an experience like that. Emblazoned on this shirt is the image seen on your targeting computer in the moment just before you destroyed the home-improvement project your father had been working on for years. Wear this shirt with pride. Been there? Sure. Done that? Of course. But now you can say “bought the t-shirt.”
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

“Don’t Get Cocky!”

dontgetcocky
Remember that time you slipped out from right under your father’s nose and ran off with your scoundrel buddy in his souped-up hotrod for some serious hijinks? Your dad was so ticked he actually sent out a couple of local henchmen to apprehend you and bring you back in. Little did he know your buddy’s dog could handle the driving while you and the scoundrel manned the turrets and told your dad’s lackeys exactly what you thought of them. Lucky for you your targeting computer grabbed a screenshot of the action. We’ve printed it for you here on this shirt, along with the words your buddy had for you when you got a little too excited. “Great kid. Don’t get cocky!”
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

“Dork”

dork
Are you a Master-Builder? Are you “The Special”? Do you have an appreciation for little Danish interlocking plastic blocks that exceeds what some people would call “normal”? To heck with “some people.” Walk tall with the confidence of knowing exactly who you are and what you’re all about. You may be a “dork”, but that word doesn’t mean what it did back when The Breakfast Club was doing detention. The dorks have inherited the earth, and you are proud to count yourself among them.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

“Dork” (ringer)

ringer
In your day you and your buddies roamed the neighborhood in a wild pack of Schwinn bikes with banana seats and nobody wore a helmet. In your day video games cost a quarter. In your day you sat in the back of the station wagon with the groceries, where there were no seatbelts. In your day cartoons only came on Saturdays, Hulk Hogan and The Macho-man were unstoppable and “knowing” was “half the battle.” In your day the coolest kid at school was the one who had the t-shirt with the sweetest iron-on. Now that kid can be you, only the iron-on is a righteous silk-screen proclaiming to the world you know exactly who you are. You’re a dork, and you’re damn proud of it.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
Here’s the history:
 
The entire reason I got into blogging in the first place was to meet/find/create a community of like-minded dorky dads. I found that community in the Dadbloggers Facebook group, founded by dadblogger Oren Miller. All the members of the Dadbloggers group have come to think of Oren as our founding father. When he was recently diagnosed with stage IV cancer, we were all rocked to the core. You can read Oren’s heart-felt feelings on his diagnosis here.
 
A fundraising site was set up in his name. We knew we couldn’t do much to help Oren’s condition, but we still wanted to make a difference. What could be more important for his family moving forward than memories. That’s what we wanted to do for them. So we are raising money to give Oren and his family as many awesome memories as possible.
 
When the good people from Teespring.com came to me looking to partner up, I knew I’d found a way to turn this blogging adventure into something good. As I stated above, 100% of the profits made from these t-shirts will go towards the fundraiser for Oren and his family. So please, if there’s a dork in your life who you think would appreciate one of the shirts above, pass the word along.
 
Remember, the shirts will only be available for 14 days, so SHARE THE HELL OUT OF THIS POST.
 
Thank you for your continued readership. It means more to me than I can say.
 
-Dork Dad
 

Finding Comfort In Fatherhood

14 Aug

Fatherhood Header

 

letter I remember being a youngster, old enough to stay up late enough to be in the room when the adults were watching the evening news on TV. It was the Regan-era and although it wasn’t the height of the Cold War, the sabre rattling and the ideological posturing between super powers was as fevered as ever. Although I was too young to appreciate the nuances, I could certainly appreciate the gravity of what was being reported. I knew what a nuclear bomb was. I knew we were pointing ours at them and they were pointing theirs at us. I knew exactly what nuclear war meant, and it scared the shit out of me. There were at least a few nights as a young boy where I remember staying up in bed unable to sleep, too anxious and afraid of what would happen if… *if* somebody pushed that “button.”

Since then I can’t remember ever letting the “news” du-jure effect my mood. Sure, I cried when the Challenger exploded, but in my defense I was in 6th grade at the time and I was convinced I was going to be an astronaut when I grew up. Beyond that, I am too much of a relativist by nature to take the “news” to heart. Newscasters sensationalize stories to look important and networks pander to narrow-minded ideologies to sell commercials. I like to think I float above all that stuff, avoiding getting caught up in the weeds… but damned if I didn’t find myself in a funk yesterday.

Sometimes it seems like the entire world is on fire. Russia is again making trouble, this time in Ukraine, and daring the world to do anything to stop it. ISIS is beheading children in Iraq. The genocide/civil war in Syria has become so old-hat the media has stopped reporting on it. Israel and Palestine have decided that they like bombing one another more than they like talking to each other. Unarmed teenagers are being shot and killed by police officers right here in the US. Children are coming across our borders, fleeing violence in Central America, and we’re trying to send them back. CHILDREN! Two friends of mine have recently been diagnosed with cancer, one of them terminal. Ebola is running unchecked through Western Africa in a way that mirrors every disaster/plague/zombie movie we’ve ever seen. And of course earlier this week every website in the world was talking about depression and suicide and Robin Williams

Ugh.

My entire 2-hour commute was awash in those news stories yesterday morning, and after duking it out with the big city commuter traffic I was in a dark mood when I finally arrived at my destination. I pulled into the parking structure and checked my phone quick before I went in to work. When I turned it on this was the image I saw:

 774362_4422974058091_2117383338_o

It’s a picture I snapped of my daughter at a local beach more than a year ago. THAT was precisely the image that I needed to see… that the WORLD needs to see. Yes, we may live in a world that sometimes seems to be falling apart all around us, and as a responsible citizen of that community we are obligated to be aware of what is happening in that world.

But that world isn’t my life.

You see, I am a father – and there is no greater joy in the world than the joy of loving your family. When I saw that picture I immediately thought of the young lady, just on the cusp of entering the “tween” years. She loves legos and all things Harry Potter. She conquered a task in the heavy surf this summer that would make a grown man think twice. Her biggest concern in life right now is whether or not she gets the 3rd grade teacher she wants when school starts up on Monday. She bosses her brothers around, has drama with the boys on the playground and still likes me to do the voices when I read to them at night.

*SHE* is my life.

Then I thought of my oldest son. He has recently turned a corner in his skill with a soccer ball and a baseball. He boldly tries any meat he can order on the menu (much to my vegetarian wife’s disgust). No animal is too esoteric. He just lost his first tooth and he requested fish, crab and BBQ’d shrimp (and beer!!!) for his 6th birthday party. He can build a Lego set faster than anyone I know and he has a special relationship with his grandmother. Although he’s the youngest kid in his class he loves the fact that he is also the tallest (by far). He loves to figure out multiplication problems in the back of the car. He loves guessing the movies for the film score music I play and he still likes me to do the voices when I read to them at night.

*HE* is my life.

10603578_10152654794175909_8101206507323671274_n

Then I thought of my youngest son. He loves getting grownups to smile by being silly in any way he can. He loves naming the Star Wars characters he sees in books or on t-shirts (and he knows them all). He loves putting on his brother’s/sister’s/mother’s/father’s shoes and clomping around the house with the declaration “I’m wearing tap shoes.” He puts the poor dog through more trials than any dog deserves and he pleasantly says “OK” when you tell him to clean up his mess. He loves steamed tofu (plain, yuck!) and is happy to point out all his body parts to anyone who will listen… yes, ALL of them. When you ask him how old he is he either says “ten” (he’s 2) or “I’m a big boy.” He’ll sell his siblings for an M&M and he hates it when I read to him at night “No Daddy get me ni-night. MOMMY get me ni-night.”

*HE* is my life.

1493124_10152134203285909_1986340951_n

Then there’s my wife, who is so far beyond my station in life words fall utterly short. I could blog for 100 years and still not say enough about how lucky I am to have her. She is neat where I am messy. She’s organized where I’m cluttered. She’s calm where I’m obnoxious. She’s strong where I’m weak. She is the rock-solid center of my universe…

…and she still looks damn good in a bikini.

*SHE* is my life.

You see, the world may very well seem like it’s burning, especially when you’re paying attention to what’s going on around you. But my life? My life is big and beautiful and brilliant and wonderful…

 

…because I’m a father.

ERWSTSc

 

-Dork Dad

 

%d bloggers like this: