Tag Archives: dadbloggers

Breaking News!!

16 Aug

Do you have a school-age kid? I do. The list went up today. How was “the scene” at your elementary school this week?

public schools

-Dork Dad

Life With A 5 Year Old Boy

13 Aug

Life with a 5 year old

Episode V: Hey, Mommy. Come here, quick!

UnDorkMommy: Just a second.

Episode V: Mommy, hurry!

UnDorkMommy: Honey, I have to take care of your baby brother. Just a moment.

Episode V: Mommy! Mommy! Quick! Come here! Hurry!

UnDorkMommy: OK. OK. **walks across the room to Episode V** What is it, honey?

Episide V: I just made a really big toot. Can you smell it?

UnDorkMommy: Oh. Ugh. *gag* Oh my gosh!

Episode V: **smile on his face** I know. It’s a really stinky one, isn’t it?




Is it wrong that I want to give him a high-5?


-Dork Dad

Humble Pie

12 Aug

letter So what use is social media if not for bragging about your kids (or fomenting revolution)? In general I’m not particularly calling for any revolution — except perhaps against dental insurance companies. Seriously people, you have no idea how much you are being taken advantage of; even those of you who think you have “pretty good coverage.” But I digress. That means the only thing I have to offer the internet of any value is bragging about my kids.

I make no apologies about it. Heck, I’ve got an entire blog dedicated to them. They are the only thing I have given the world that has made my time here worthwhile. They are my life’s work and the metric by which I measure my success and value as a member of the human race. They are amazing kids, all three of them, and I am justifiably proud of them. And ultimately that’s what keeps me coming back and wasting so much time on social media.

It isn’t the “Candy Crush” time wasters, or the fast-track to news on the latest Batman casting rumors. It’s sharing with the people in my life (past and present) that which I am most proud of – that which is quintessentially me – that which consumes my every thought and informs my every decision: my family. Because let’s get real – I really have no life, and therefore nothing to offer, outside of my family.

So share I have since the first day I set foot in Facebook back in 2008. I’m the obnoxious, in-your-face guy spamming your newsfeed with pictures “Look at this awesome picture she drew. Isn’t she amazing?” or “Look at them on the roller coaster. Aren’t they amazing?” or “Here he is wearing his sister’s clothes. Isn’t he amazing?” or “Check us out posing outside the gates to Skywalker Ranch. Aren’t my kids amazing?” For those of you who only follow this blog’s FB feed, you may think it’s bad. Trust me. My personal feed is ten times worse.

This weekend was nothing different. We went up to visit my parents at the lake for Episode V’s 5th birthday, and I fully expected to spam all my FB followers with scads of obnoxiously cute pictures of that weekend’s activities, chief among which was an hour spent with Episodes IV and V on jet skis, something we’ve never done before. We mounted our jet skis and I went out of my way to get just the right shot of us ready to head out. I posted the picture with the title “Episode V’s 5th birthday of awesomeness” and we headed out for an hour of thrills on the water.


When we got back and the kids were all packed up in the car I thumbed the FB app on my phone to obsessively see what had happened while we were out. A comment under my recently posted picture grabbed me.

“I am jealous. You give your kids things I couldn’t even dream of.”


Maybe my FB friend thought we frivolously bought and now owned two jet skis just for the sake of my son’s 5th birthday. I wanted to make it clear we don’t roll like that.

“Rentals. Rentals,” I replied.

“Still, it’d take nearly three months of paychecks to get that done”

That short little exchange stuck with me all weekend. I went to bed last night thinking about it, and it was on my mind when I woke up. All I wanted to do was share my joy with the people in my life, and in so doing I had inadvertently made someone else feel marginalized.

The last thing in the entire world I want to do is make someone else feel bad.

I’ve known these people for the better part of seven years. They are good people, all-in parents (and hardcore dorks to boot). They pour everything they have into raising their kids. They work very hard to make ends meet and they deserve all the dignity and respect that comes with that kind of commitment.

…but when you’re excited about something, as I am about my family and was about our little jet skiing adventure, it’s easy to lose sight of just what a luxury it is to “have” anything at all to pour into raising your kids.

Being a dad doesn't suck. But flaunting it might.

Being a dad doesn’t suck. But flaunting it might.

I am very, very cognizant of how fortunate I am to be in the position I am. My career affords me more free time than most, latitude with how I use that time, and the ability to rent two jet skis on short notice should the opportunity present itself. In fact, that’s precisely why I chose this career over others that I might have enjoyed more but didn’t provide the fringe benefits that this one does. Every day I am aware of how lucky I am, and I never ever take that luck for granted. It gives me the ability to revel in what gives me joy (my family) and I want to share that joy with the people in my life. For crying out loud, I’ve got an entire blog dedicated to sharing that love.

But perhaps, in my enthusiasm, I’ve lost sight of how that same enthusiasm can come across to other people. There are people in my newsfeed who I know would love more than anything to have a family and children, but for whatever reason it just hasn’t materialized. The last thing I want is for my constant “I love my family!” posts to be a droning reminder to someone else about something that they want but don’t have.

There are people in my newsfeed who would kill to go to Comic Con… even once. Perhaps my “*Sigh* Comic Con isn’t what it used to be” posts are the sort of 1st world problems Veruca Salt would complain about.

There are people in my newsfeed who would love to take a little mini vacation on the weekends. The last thing I want is for my “look at this Optimus Prime costume we made” or “check out what I brought home this weekend” or “build a hovercraft in your backyard for around $200” posts to bring someone down because making ends meet doesn’t leave room for those sorts of extras.

What I don’t want to be is that guy who says “Look what I got. Neener, neener, neener!”



As with anything, moderation is always the best way to go. There’s no shame in being proud of your family. There’s no shame in proclaiming your love for them. I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong, necessarily.

But as with all things, I’ve got kids to bring up. If you subscribe to the argument that the best way to teach a child is to lead by example, then it can’t hurt for me to stop down before I do something and think about how that might come across from someone else’s perspective.

I suppose the lesson here is that turning the dork-volume all the way up to 10 really isn’t necessary when 9 will get the job done just as effectively.

-Dork Dad

humble pie

Why It’s Awesome To Be A Nerd

1 Aug

letter At a recent convention, child actor and well-credentialed nerd ambassador Will Wheaton sat on a panel attended by conventioneers. During the question-and-answer period one convention-goer (with a video camera) told Mr. Wheaton about her recently born daughter and asked him to describe for her daughter what was awesome about being a nerd.

The answer Mr. Wheaton gave was profound. In my opinion it was dead-on and touched the very zeitgeist of the feeling I try to get across in this blog. No matter what it is you love: Dr. Who, classical composers, Star Wars, architecture, animation, parenting… it’s all about loving those things as much as you can, and finding other people who love those same things as much as you do.

The convention-goer put the video up on YouTube and it is currently making the viral-rounds in nerd-circles (which I thoroughly travel). Of course you can just watch the video below if you like. But I think some things are so profound, so important, they are worth writing down.

Here are Will Wheaton’s words on why it’s awesome to be a nerd:



“So there’s going to be a thing in your life that you love… The way you love that thing and the way that you find other people who love it the way you do is what makes being a nerd awesome.”

-Will Wheaton

Hi, Violet. My name is Will Wheaton. It’s 2013 and you’ve just recently joined us on planet Earth, so welcome.

I’m an actor and I’m a writer and I’m a dad and your mother asked me to tell you why it’s awesome to be a nerd and that’s an easy thing for me to do because that’s who I am. I don’t know what the world’s going to be like by the time you understand this. I don’t know what it’s going to mean to be a nerd when you are a young woman. For me, when I was growing up being a nerd meant that I liked things that were a little weird, that took a lot of effort to appreciate and understand. It meant that I loved science and I loved playing board games and reading books and really understanding what went on in the world instead of just riding the planet through space.

When I was a little boy people really teased us about that and made us feel like there was something wrong with us for loving those things.  Now that I’m an adult I’m kind of a professional nerd and the world has changed a lot and I think a lot of us have realized that being a nerd, or being a “geek” is another word you’ll hear and I sort of use the terms interchangeably, it’s not about what you love. It’s about how you love it.

So there’s going to be a thing in your life that you love and I don’t know what it’s going to be. It might be sports. It might be science. It might be reading. It might be fashion design, it might be building things. It might be telling stories or taking pictures. It doesn’t matter what it is. The way you love that and the way that you find other people who love it the way you do is what makes being a nerd awesome.

The defining characteristic of us, the people in this room – and I’m going to ask your mom to turn this camera around in a minute. Go there, go mom. **camera pans around to show a convention hall chalk-full of enthusiastic nerds** The defining characteristic that ties us all together is that we love things. Some of us love Firefly, and some of us love Game of Thrones, and some of us love – these are things you’ll be able to go see. They’re in your nerd history book. Some of us love Star Trek or Star Wars or anime or games or fantasy or science fiction. Some of us love completely different things, but we all love those things so much that we travel thousands of miles – which is probably easy for you but we’re still on fossil fuels. I don’t know what you’re going to be on, but it’s difficult. We come from all over, in some cases all over the world, so that we can be around people who love the things that we love the way that we love them. And that’s why being a nerd is awesome.

Don’t ever let anybody tell you that that thing that you love is a thing that you can’t love. Don’t ever let anyone tell you you can’t love that, that’s for boys. You have to love this because you’re a girl. You find the things that you love and you love them the most that you can. And listen, this is really important, I want you to be honest, honorable, kind. I want you to work hard because everything worth doing is hard. And I want you to be awesome. And I’m going to do my very best to leave you a planet that you can still live on. Have a great life.


Below is the YouTube video if you’d like to watch it for yourself. The lesson here is that whatever kind of nerd you are, celebrate it. It’s all about love. In the comments below share with us what kind of nerd you are.

-Dork Dad


Venn Diagram

25 Jul

toddler toilet poop

Notice where “poop” lives in the equation.

-Dork Dad


Unexpected Gathering

23 Jul

letter by now my kids’ Lego prowess is well-established around here. No doubt if you follow the blog’s facebook page you’ve noticed the occasional pictures of my smiling children in front of a completed Lego project in your newsfeed at one time or another. One of our favorite projects was “The Shire” (as my kids call it), released in conjunction with “The Hobbit” at the end of last year. As always, when the project was done I snapped a quick picture (pics or it didn’t happen) to document the construction before the inevitable destruction.

"Sorry, dude. You aren't old enough for the movie. Please accept this as a consolation prize."

“Sorry, dude. You aren’t old enough for the movie. Please accept this as a consolation prize.”

Last week while at Comic Con, my friends and I decided to take in the sites outside the convention center (if for no reason other than to get away from the crushing throngs of people just for a moment). Although I did not bring my children, they’re still too young for Comic Con to be appropriate, I spent most of my time keeping an eye out for what might be appealing to them, rather than myself (a topic I’m kicking around for another blog post). As we walked around outside, breathing the fresh air and enjoying the sun on our faces, we came across a display in an open, public space that I immediately knew would resonate with my kids. There for everyone to see was a professionally made version of “The Shire”, only 20x the scale of the version Episode V and I made together months ago. It featured both the interior and exterior details exactly as the were in the store-bough set, including all the accessories, details and characters… only 20x bigger.

Naturally I had to take a picture and text it immediately back home for the kids to see.



I’ve seen these sorts of builds before. Most Lego stores have something like this on display, purely for the WOW-factor. The Lego store at Disneyland has some pretty impressive constructs, as you might imagine. But I’ve never had the opportunity to inspect them close up… to run my hands over them. As it turns out, this construct wasn’t a styrofoam mock-up. It wasn’t sculpted out of plaster to look like it was made of Legos. This was *ACTUALLY* built from the itty-bitty Legos parents with kids of a certain age have all over the house. As I took in the workmanship the thought occurred to me, “Man. Someone actually had to build this. This was someone’s job. Someone got PAID to build this. We’ve all had those fantasies before:

“If only I could be a professional shopper.”

“If only I could be paid to play video games all the time.”

“If only it was my job to travel the country and sample chocolate chip cookies.”

There before me was the realization of someone’s dream along those exact same lines. “If only I could build Legos for a living.” Lego actually employs “Master Builders”. Their entire job is to create… sometimes on a micro-scale, sometimes ginormous. They travel around to expos, store opening and special events to show off Legos and all the amazing things they can do. These are the people who dream up the ginormous builds that spread virally on the internet, as well as the more practical builds that get sent off to retail stores.

Needless to say, those jobs are very hard to come by. You have to be incredibly talented, the screening process is grueling, and you have to be in the right place at the right time. As I looked at that gigantic Shire build out in the middle of a San Diego public park, it seemed to me that for every rockstar Master Builder there has to be dozens of mid-level engineers… guys and girls who may not be rockstars, but are still incredibly skilled and can handle plenty of creative heavy lifting. Those jobs would be just as rewarding, and probably a little easier to come into.

As coincidence would have it, earlier this afternoon this YouTube video came across my feed and connected all the dots. Check it out.

It’s no secret, I’m rather bearish about the advice I’ll give my children when it comes to following their dreams. But if one of them told me they wanted to go work as a Lego Engineer for a career, I suppose that’s a decision I could get behind — just so long as they let me come over and play with their toys.

In fact, now that I think of it, to hell with this dentistry. If I could get a job building Legos all day, I’d sell this damn dental practice in a heartbeat.

-Dork Dad


Dork Industries 2000

14 Jul

letter what do you do when your blog has entered its 4th season, readership is down and your stories are getting stale?

What do you do when your kid darts off down the street and you realize you’re too out of shape to stand a chance of catching up?

What do you do when you have to roll up in your beat up old jalopy to the PTA meeting with all the keeping-up-with-the-Jonse’s soccer moms?

What do you do when it’s time to trade your Porsche in for the family wagon?

Dork Industries has the answer for you!

dorkindustries2000 knight rider minivan


That’s right. Sit back and take in the awesomeness.

Now taking orders.


-Dork Dad

super pursuit mode


What Would You Tell Him?

12 Jul



letter This week fellow dad blogger Adam Dolgin at Fodder 4 Fathers (credit where credit is due) published a blogpost that, frankly, moved me. It started out innocently enough, a little experiment he ran on his blog’s Facebook page where he asked his followers “If you could go back in time and tell your father one thing before he had kids, what would it be?” The results were quite surprising, and moving — so much so that I’d like to try the same experiment with the DorkDaddy.com readers. (Try not to read Adam’s post until after you do the experiment. We don’t want to influence the results.)

In the comments section below this blog post, please answer the question:

If you could go back in time and tell your father one thing before he had kids, what would it be?

Be as open and honest as you can. You don’t even need to identify yourself if you aren’t comfortable doing so. But think back and imagine who that man was, or might have been. What is the one thing you would want him to hear before he had children? I will make sure that the comments section remains a safe place to share.

I am very interested in where your thoughts take you, and what you would have to say.


-Dork Dad

Surfer Girl

2 Jul

letter every once in a while when we were kids, my dad used to crank up his old man music and do his own version of the DorkDaddy thing. Usually it was either folk music from the Kingston Trio, or The Beach Boys – turned up loud enough to make the dog leave the room. I do the same thing to my kids today, only these days the “old man music” is Def Leppard and Bon Jovi.

30 years ago when the Beach Boys album was pumpin’ and the dog was hiding under the bed, “Surfer Girl” would come on and my dad would swoop up one (or both) of my little sisters. He’d put them on his toes and dance with them in his arms, singing the lyrics (falsetto and all) as if the song was written just for them.

Ever since she was in Jr. High, my baby sister always maintained that whenever she got married and it came time for the father/daughter dance, it was going to be to “Surfer Girl”. I don’t know that my father ever heard of her plan – he might have. But the plan might also have been one of those conversations between siblings that we all remembered and just never brought up again.

In any case, that day finally came this weekend. My baby sister got married. Episode IV got to be the flower girl and Episode V got to be the (Lord of the) ring bearer(s). Episode VI was still too little for an official part in the ceremony, but he was listed in the program anyway as “Cutie-patootie” and got to walk his Booboo down the aisle along with his equally adorable cousin. As it was he managed to steal his share of thunder when he finally decided he was finished with being a crawler and wanted to be a walker – at the rehearsal dinner – around a pool!

The Lord of the Ring Bearers and Cutie Patootie

The Lord of the Ring Bearers and Cutie Patootie

The ceremony went off without a hitch – perfect weather, no major SNAFU’s. The party moved on to the reception where there could be found all the typical wedding traditions: speeches from the Best Man and Matron of Honor, cake cutting, toasts, yadda, yadda…

The star of the wedding, and the bride.

The star of the wedding, and the bride.

When most of the guests were done eating, it was time to dance. As expected, the bride and groom got the first dance to the song of their choosing, with all the requisite “awww”s and camera-phone shots from the guests you would expect. Dance/smooch/hug, dance/smooch/hug. Typical wedding fare. The dance ended to the applause of the guests.

And then it happened…

That baritone scale progression, followed by the lilting falsetto melody – so familiar it’s practically written into my family’s DNA, “Surfer Girl” started up as the DJ announced that it was time for the father/daughter dance. My dad lost it. My sister lost it. All the guests in the room lost it. And that one moment that my sister had been planning since Jr. High finally came true. She was dancing with her daddy to the perfect song after the perfect day.

Father/daughter dance.

Father/daughter dance.


It is a strange quirk of life that I tend to look at these things through the lens of fatherhood these days, rather than as a brother, or a husband, or even just plain old me. The last time I watched my father in a father/daughter dance at my sister’s wedding, I didn’t have a daughter myself. Things are different now. This weekend I didn’t see my baby sister up there dancing with her daddy, I saw a father having his last dance with his last child, his youngest daughter, his little baby (surfer) girl. I saw that awful, inevitable, inescapable moment where a father has to finally admit that although she may have been a grownup for years and years, his little girl is no longer his. In moments like those, your mind starts to wander.

I have a daughter.

I have a daughter I love so much it hurts. I have a daughter I love so much, sometimes I lose it just looking at her pictures on my screensaver. I have a daughter who’s growing up the way daughters do. At every major life event I see the girl going off to the first day of kindergarten, or the little girl riding her bike for the first time, or the little girl who mastered reading in a week, or the flower girl at my sister’s wedding… but I also see that little baby, only seconds old, that I held in my hands. I walked her to school on her first day of kindergarten. I ran behind the bike, steadying it as she found her balance. I helped her sound out the hard words. I painted her fingers and toes to match her dress for the wedding…

nails ala DorkDaddy

nails ala DorkDaddy

Sometimes all I can see is that little, newborn baby daughter.

Someday that daughter may want to get married.

Someday she may have a wedding, with a dress and a flower girl and a reception and everything.

At that reception there will very likely be dancing.

Before the dancing there will likely be a father/daughter dance.

She will walk up to me, after dancing with her husband, and take my hand to lead me to the dance floor.

What song will she pick?

Of course I know what song she’ll pick. We have a song. It’s our song. We will dance to our song and I will have to admit to myself that she is no longer mine, and I will totally lose it.


I know what you’re thinking right now. You’re thinking “Holy crap, man. Your daughter is seven. You’ve got DECADES before you have to worry about that sort of thing. Get a grip.”

You’re right, you’re right. I know you’re right. But this is what it means to love a little person so much you’d swear your heart will explode. This is what it means to look down in silence at your sleeping baby, filled with panic at how fast it’s all gone by and with terror at what is to come. This is what it means to be the father of a daughter.

Game. Set. Match. FML

Game. Set. Match. FML

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go back into the office and give myself oxygen for the next 23 years.

-Dork Dad

surfer girl

Terrible Twos

25 Jun

letter And just like that, DorkDaddy.com is two years old. Much like my daughter finishing 1st grade, I did a sort of double-take and thought “Really? Where did that time go?”

As we finished the last day of school this year I found my thoughts drifting to my daughter’s teacher, and to how profoundly I appreciated everything she had done to make my daughter’s experience so wonderful. There are plenty of parallels there with DorkDaddy.com. To every one of you who has ever taken the time to read one of my posts, please know how extremely grateful I am for the time you spent on these pages, and even more so if you took the time to leave a comment or share what you read.

Holding hands.

Holding hands.

Every piece I write is written with a little voice in the back of my head saying “Why are you doing this? Why are you investing all this energy? Nobody really cares.” I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to convince myself otherwise, even if the predominant theme of the year suggests otherwise. But before I get into all that, I need to ask a personal favor of each and every one of you.

If you have ever read and enjoyed this blog it would mean the world to me if you could take a moment and leave a comment at the bottom of this post

Much like last year, I intend on taking this entire year’s collection of blogposts and publishing them in a hardbound coffee table book for posterity’s sake – DorkDaddy.com Vol. 2, as it were. If you have ever read and enjoyed this blog it would mean the world to me if you could take a moment and leave a comment at the bottom of this post – to be saved along with all this year’s posts and comments in the hardcover volume. It can be as long or as short as you like, it can say whatever you like (sappy adoration, righteous indignation, scathing criticism) but it would mean the world to me to hear from you your thoughts/reflections looking back on another full year of DorkDaddy.com. Please don’t forget to identify yourself in the proper field, or your comment will be attributed to “Anonymous” and 30 years from now I’ll have no idea who wrote it.


Reflections on Year 2 of DorkDaddy.com:

As much as I joke about nobody caring and nobody reading, the truth is this has been an incredible (and unexpected) year of growth/expansion/maturing (notice I didn’t say “maturity”) for the DorDaddy.com. After the first full year of blogging, DorkDaddy.com’s Facebook page had precisely 70 followers. On Twitter there were 131 (Twitter still sucks by the way). Today the Facebook page has 581 followers – still pathetic by blog-standards, but geometric growth in a single year by statistical standards.

Blew past 500 without even looking...

Blew past 500 without even looking…

There were a few posts over the past year that really seemed to resonate with people.

20thingsdaughterFar and away, the biggest post of the year was “20 Things A Father Should Tell His Daughter.” In hindsight it really does play like linkbait to soccer moms. It’s short. It’s sentimental and it’s attached to a particularly cute picture that’s easily shared on Facebook or Pinterest (especially on Pinterest… sheesh). In all honesty the idea for the post wasn’t entirely my own. It was a reaction to another picture/meme “20 Things A Mother Should Tell Her Son” that had gone viral on Facebook at the time. I couldn’t let something like that go unanswered from the dads out there, so I quickly whipped out the post titled “20 Things A Father Should Tell His Son”. That same day after publishing “Father/Son” I figured I’d better also write “20 Things A Father Should Tell His Daughter”. I worked out the bullet points while doing a filling and quickly cobbled it together on the blog between patients. I certainly did not expect the post to go viral itself, but some pretty fun things came from the viral experience. You can read about them on the post “Virality”. Of interesting note, the “Father/Son” post hasn’t enjoyed nearly as much attention, despite having may of the same bullet points as the “Father/Daughter” post.

It’s Just Sex, Dammit!” was a post I wrote early in 2013 to exercise the demons I felt from a nasty breakup between a couple my family was friends with. Someone at WordPress.com noticed it and featured the post on their “freshly pressed” section. Needless to say it struck a chord with the people who read it, as evidenced by the tidal wave of comments that followed. They are as compelling to read as the post itself. My only regret is that I couldn’t keep up with them as they were flooding in, so I wasn’t able personally respond to each.

Then, most recently WordPress.com featured some of their favorite Dadblogs on Father’s Day, and look at which blog they featured at the very top of the list:



I’m still flattered beyond words. The blurb the editor wrote describing DorkDaddy.com was nothing short of moving. I still get all verklempt when I read it. I reached out to the editor to thank her, but I didn’t have the heart to point out that she mislabeled my UnDorky wife as “DorkMommy”. Faithful DorkDady.com readers will spot the error quickly.


As the blog has grown this year it’s also attracted the notice of entities (advertisers) looking to widen the visibility of their product through the blog-o-verse. With no small amount of apprehension I was able to dip DorkDaddy.com’s toe into that universe this year as well. T-Shirts.com approached me first, which lead to “The Great Super Suit Giveaway”. Then, some months later, I was approached by an advertising exec. representing Pringles. They were looking for bloggers to help promote their “Force For Fun” campaign in conjunction with Star Wars. The incentives were legit, and the material seemed to be in keeping with the theme I set up around here, so I went for it.

Black And White

Black And White

To all of you who participated in those events, thank you. All in all I’ve been underwhelmed with the whole endorsement/giveaway aspect of blogging. What I don’t want is to alienate readers with a bunch of material that obviously comes from someone else. If I do that sort of thing again I’ll make sure it doesn’t distract from the usual DorkDaddy.com zeitgeist.


396049_150723075077634_981225626_nAs I’ve mentioned before, my original vision for this blog was to build a community of likeminded dorky dads to share their love for their families, and their dorkisms. It didn’t exactly happen that way and the blog is the better for it, but connecting with other dads was always at the heart of why I do this at all. I’m happy to say that group of dads actually exists…

…they all just happen to have blogs of their own.

This year I am thrilled to have found the dadbloggers community on Facebook. It’s a great place to commune with other dads/dudes. There we bounce ideas off one another, collaborate on projects (see the collaborative piece “When To Expose Kids To Star Wars – A White Paper”), refine our dick-jokes, and make fun of SDL (no I won’t tell you who “SDL” is). It’s been a real shot in the arm to have this bunch of guys to commiserate with. I’d love to link you to their blogs, but there are just too many to be practical. Instead, go to the Dadbloggers page on Facebook and follow it to get the best stuff from the group in your newsfeed.




…which leads me to this year’s final reflection: Facebook.

Since going public, Facebook has been under incredible pressure to monetize. To that end they try to incentivize Facebook pages for personal blogs (like mine) to “promote” posted material. Essentially, they choke off how much of the stuff I post that actually gets to your newsfeed. They have complicated algorithms for figuring out how much content gets out and to whom. But the long and the short of it is, I’m posting stuff all the time on the blog’s Facebook wall, and most of it isn’t getting to you. If I want everyone to see it, I have to pay them real $$.

Like hell.

Thankfully, if you actually want to get DorkDaddy.com’s Facebook updates, there’s a workaround. The little infographic below should make it clear what you have to do to release the chokehold:

Workaround for DorkDaddy.com's Facebook page.

Workaround for DorkDaddy.com’s Facebook page.


And with that, I’ll end the year of blogging by thanking a couple people.

To anyone who’s ever shared a DorkDaddy.com post on their Facebook/Twitter page – I can’t tell you how much that means. Ultimately we write for ourselves, but it gets really tough really quick if you don’t feel like your stuff is getting out there.

To Emily at “The Waiting”, Courtney at “Stay At Home Trauma” and Larva225 at “Adventures In Babyknitting”, you guys never seem to miss a post, and never seem to miss a chance to comment. Thank you so much. It doesn’t go unnoticed or unappreciated.

Jeff Reisdorfer – DorkDaddy.com’s #1 Facebook follower. Again, don’t think it doesn’t go unnoticed or unappreciated. I’ve never met the guy, have no idea who he is beyond his comments on the Facebook material, but like me he has a smokin’ hot wife and three ridiculously beautiful kids. Jeff, you have a standing invitation to submit a post as a Guest Dorkdad anytime, brother.

To my father, for being the standard I set myself against in the parenting arena.

To my children, for being the inspiration behind the blog and entire reason I exist on this planet.

To my wife, for letting me share on this blog way more than you’re comfortable with.

And to all of you, some who have stuck with me from the beginning and some who came along later, and some who only drop in from time to time – I’m sorry you’ve wasted so much time reading my drivel. I’ll try to do better next year.

Here’s looking forward to putting together Volume 3… but definitely no more episodes.



-Dork Dad


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